“Aye, Aye, Cap’n.”The carpenter/surgeon gestured for the woman to follow him.
Setting Zada down, she rose, balanced her feet on the shifting deck, and followed Moses.She glanced at Cadan as she passed, and he saw terror in her eyes…yet something else, strength and courage.
After Moses shut the door, Cadan grabbed his rum, moved to the stern windows and stared at the dark, riotous sea.
He’d expected a cowering female, uneducated, immoral, foul-mouthed.A wench.He’d expected her to beg for her life, or at the very least, try to seduce him into gaining her freedom.
What he’d gotten instead was a witty, educated, courageous lady who even liked his iguana.Despite that, he must remember who she once loved…
Andwhose child she bore.
Chapter 4
The man called Moses escorted her onto the main deck, back down a ladder, then through a narrow hallway to a cabin similar in size to the cage she’d been locked in below.Not that she was complaining, for at least there was a bunk, a small table and chair, and a chest of drawers, all bolted down, of course.A small round window nearly out of Gabrielle’s reach opened to the dark sky and allowed a salty breeze to enter.
Moses hooked the lantern on the ceiling and turned to leave when a dark-skinned woman appeared in the doorway, a bowl in her hands.
Upon seeing Moses, she smiled up at the man who towered well over a foot above her.
“How are you, Moses?”
“Fine, ma’am.”He shifted his feet but remained in place as if the shock of such beauty held him captive.“Good dinner you made earlier.”
“I’s glad you liked it.”She smiled again.Several minutes passed as the couple stared at each other.“Now step aside, you big fool, so’s I can tend the lady.”She gestured toward Gabrielle.
Muttering, the poor man attempted to leave but kept stepping in the woman’s path.“Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am.”He backed into the cabin, knocking Gabrielle onto the bed.
Finally, chuckling, the woman squeezed past him and bid him farewell as he shuffled out and shut the door.
“I’m Omphile,” she said, setting the bowl on the table.
Gabrielle’s stomach lurched at the scent of some kind of stew.Was she to be fed or merely tortured with the smell?
“Gabrielle.”
Lantern light flickered over the woman’s fine ebony skin and long dark braids.Deep set eyes, a prominent nose, and full lips formed an attractive face.But there was also something in those eyes that made her even more beautiful…a light, a cheerfulness, a kindness Gabrielle would not have expected on a pirate ship.“I didn’t know there were other women on board.”
Water gushed against the hull as the ship tilted to larboard.
Sliding onto the chair, Omphile took the bowl and handed it to Gabrielle.“Jist me.And now you.”She smiled.
Gabrielle stared at the stew, unsure whether her stomach would welcome it or toss it back into the bowl.She couldn’t remember the last time she ate anything that smelled so good.
“Go on, now, eat.”Omphile nodded.“I knows you’re scared, but the babe needs it.”
So that was it.The captain’s motive for this small measure of kindness—to keep her baby alive.In that goal, she was quite in agreement.’Twas regarding the purpose of it, on which they parted.Drawing the bowl to her lips, she slowly sipped the savory broth, cold, but a tasty brew of pork, onions, corn, and something else she couldn’t place.Her stomach embraced it with a leap of pleasure.
“You are the ship’s cook?”Gabrielle asked, taking another sip.
“Aye, among other duties.”Rising, she opened a drawer and pulled out a small pillow and quilt.“These will do nicely for you tonight, Miss.”She set them at the bottom of the bed, then gripped the bulkhead as the deck shifted slightly.“Tomorrow, we’ll git you cleaned up an’ in some fresh clothes.”She began to hum a pleasant tune.
Fresh clothes?Clean?Suspicion rose at such kindness.“I thank you for the stew.’Tis delicious.”Gabrielle handed her the bowl, unable to finish it.In truth, her stomach was in as much turmoil as her nerves.
“You should eat more, Miss.”Omphile sat again and leaned forward, studying Gabrielle with curiosity.
Gabrielle would guess the woman to be in her late thirties or early forties, though ’twas hard to tell with such glowing, rich skin.“What does the captain want with my baby?”she blurted out.“What is he going to do with me?”
Omphile’s face scrunched as she waved a hand through the air.“Ah, never you worry, Miss.The captain’s more bluster than bite.He’ll do you no harm in de end.”
