“Now, now, Child.”Omphile took her hand.“No need to hurt yourself.Looks like de babe be coming soon.”
The thunderous roar of a cannon shook the ship, trembling the cot on which Gabrielle lay.Please, God.Please.If you still care at’ll for me, please deliver my baby safely.’Twas her first prayer in years and one said in between screams of agony.
Moses must have brought the supplies, for by the time the last pain subsided slightly, a piece of sailcloth had been placed beneath Gabrielle’s legs and Omphile was dribbling rum into Gabrielle’s mouth from a rag.
“Do you know how to do this?”Gabrielle panted out.
The woman smiled nervously.“Better dan anyone else on board dis ship.’Sides,” she added, “women been birthin’ babies for thousands o’ years without any help at all.”
An overwhelming urge to push consumed Gabrielle.“He’s coming!”she shouted, sending Omphile to the end of the bed.
“Push, Miss!Push wit’ all your might!”
???
Raising the spyglass to his eye, Cadan focused on the smoke spewing from Allard’s ship.He smiled.
“Good work, Soot!”he exclaimed.“A direct hit.”
“’Twere by yer command, Cap’n,” the gunner replied with a smile and a shrug.
Indeed.Cadan had timed it perfectly, taking in the direction of the wind and the rise and fall of the waves, waiting…waiting…until that precise moment when he’d shouted “Fire!”
The broadside raked theNightblood’sstern, crushing her timbers at the water line and shattering her bulwarks.Smoke gushed from below deck, where a fire must have started.
Pirates dashed back and forth across the ship, lowering and raising buckets into the sea to put out the rising flames.All the while, Allard’s commands sent men to the tops to raise all sail and flee as fast as they could.
The villain had the audacity to leap onto the quarterdeck, remove his plumed hat, and sweep it before him in a mock gesture of deference.
Cursing, Cadan gazed up at his damaged mainsail.Even if he raised the remaining sails, he’d never catch up to Allard’s smaller sloop.Aye, theNightbloodwas on fire for now, but her sails were intact.
Cadan could only stand there, hands fisted at his waist, wind whipping through his hair, and groan in frustration.How many chances would he get to battle this blackguard?
“Orders, Cap’n?”Durwin shouted from the main deck.“Should we try an’ catch ’im?”
“Nay.”Cadan plowed a hand through his hair and cursed.“Another time.”
Dark clouds retreated on the horizon.As quickly as it had come, the storm passed.
“Anchor in the shelter of the island and make repairs on the sail and mast.We’ll have another chance at Allard.”
“I hope yer right, Cap’n.”Durwin spit to the side before he turned and began ordering the men to task.Smity nodded and went to work, avoiding Cadan’s gaze.
If the man hadn’t made that error, Cadan might have had the advantage quicker and not allowed his mainsail to be damaged.He’d talk to him later.For now, he must check on the wounded.
And on Lady Fox.
Leaping down the companionway, he stormed toward his cabin.He needed rum.Lots of it, but he needed to know how the lady fared first.
Stopping at her door, he listened.No moans of pain, no screams came from the cabin, though he’d heard plenty during the battle.
He knocked.
The door creaked open and Omphile’s face appeared.Surprise swept over it at the sight of him.
“How is she?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she opened the door further.“See for yourself.”
