Aside from the large oak desk, shelves bolted to the wall contained various navigational tools, artifacts, and books.A wooden sea chest with iron fittings sat at the foot of the cot, while a handwoven mat covered the deck before it.And oddly, carved into the bulkhead above the sea chest were the wordsWith God, All Things Are Possible.
Two unlit oil lamps were mounted on the walls, while one hung overhead, swaying with the ship.Candles in brass holders littered the room on both desk and shelves, along with various carafes and glasses and even what appeared to be a silver tea set.To her right, a weapons rack held three flintlocks, another cutlass, and a musket.One velvet stuffed chair was bolted to the deck beside where she stood.
Her gaze returned to the only thing that seemed out of place—an open leather-bound book perched atop a slew of charts on his desk.A Bible?She took a few steps forward for a better look.A wavering ray of sunlight shifted over the wordPsalmsat the top, the sight giving her hope this man-pirate was not as cruel as history dictated.“A nobleman pirate who wears a cross and reads the Bible?”
He faced her.A slow smile spread over his lips.“Reformed pirate.In truth, my family helps round up pirates while we spread the Gospel and help the poor.”He gripped the silver cross at his neck.
If he had said he was part dolphin, she wouldn’t have been more shocked.All the pirates and privateers she’d read about in history were ruthless, violent, greedy, sea-hardened men.And though some were religious, none were philanthropists, and especially not evangelists.Could such a thing be true?Or was this all a part of a crazy dream she was having, and she was actually curled up in her bed aboveOcean’s Echo?If so, she must figure out a way to wake up.
And soon.
Before this man labeled her as completely nuts, if the look on his face was any indication, and he and his crew tortured and burned her like they did to those poor girls in Salem, Massachusetts back in…if she remembered, only a few years before 1718.
She swallowed down a burst of terror.
The black cat leapt from the window ledge onto the captain’s desk again, sidling up to him with a rumbling purr.Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but smile.
“Cats amuse you, Miss Starr?”
“I never expected to see one in this bizarre dream I’m having.”
“You believe this to be all a dream?”He cocked a brow as he picked up the cat and flung her over his shoulder.“I assure you, Miss.I am quite real.And so is Patches.”
“Patches?”
“She lost an eye when a shot splintered our mast,” he offered.“We tried to get her to wear a patch, but she would have none of it.”The handsome man who looked more pirate than preacher, wearing both cross and cutlass, stood there stroking the cat’s fur on a tall ship in the year 1718 in the most outlandish scene she’d ever witnessed.
Maybe shewasgoing crazy.
He set the cat down again and studied her.And for the first time, the hard sheen fled his eyes, replaced by a hint of kindness, prompting her to attempt an explanation.
“Listen, Captain, this is the deal.Either I’m having some crazy dream or somehow…somehow… I’ve been transported back in time.”
The hard sheen reappeared, along with anger and distrust.He crossed muscular arms over his chest.“Do not presume to take me for a fool!”
“I would nev—”
“I find the only plausible explanation is that you snuck aboard my ship at port.Hence, if you will not own up to your actions, I fear I will have to lock you up until I can turn you over to the authorities.”
And he would do it too.Here was a man of power, used to ordering his crew around and demanding prompt obedience.How could she get him to believe her?
The Ring!It was the only link between past and present.Wait.The last time she’d appeared on this ship, hadn’t she returned to her time when she dropped it?What a dimwit!Why had she not thought of that before?
Sliding her hand into the pocket of her wetsuit, she fished it out and instantly tossed it onto the deck.The clank of gold on wood rang through the cabin.She slammed her eyes shut.Soon, she’d feel the warm wash of water over her wetsuit, hear nothing but thegurgling muted peace of the sea.
Instead, the captain shouted, “Thunder and Flame!You thieving imp!”Withdrawing a knife that made her clutch her throat, he marched to the stern windows, stooped, and pried open a plank of wood that made up the seat.He reached inside but came up empty.Slowly rising, he faced her, his expression twisting with a fury that no doubt sent his crew scurrying.“How did you know where it was?Tell me now, or I’ll have your hand chopped off as per the penalty for thieving on this ship!”
Chapter 7: Mermaid or Nymph?
Drawing in a deep breath of salty sea air, Caleb braced his boots on the shifting deck and scanned the horizon.Naught but an azure sea, sparkling in the noonday sun, spanned out in all directions.He usually felt in control, at ease upon these waters, but not of late.The sea was in his blood, its salt sprinkled throughout his veins, waves and wind were his constant companions.He loved it all.The adventure, the freedom, and the beauty and majesty of God’s creation.Yet ever since embarking on this journey, his spirit had been restless as if he was searching for something.Something of eternal importance, something bigger than himself, yet something just out of reach.The sudden appearance of the strange woman only added more confusion and distress.
Beneath him on the main deck, Alden cupped his hands and shouted, “Lay aloft, and don’t dawdle like Sunday sinners.Trim those tops’ls afore the wind passes us by!”Then taking the quarterdeck ladder in two leaps, he approached Caleb.His quartermaster and friend always knew when Caleb needed a listening ear.
“You have that look in your eye, Captain.Is it the woman or something else?”
In truth, it was many things, but the woman most of all.“She baffles me like none other.”
“Did she tell you how she came aboard?”
