His crew responded with swift desperation, lines hissing through blocks, sails fluttering.The battered ship obeyed…barely.
Desi held her breath as theSentineleased past a set of sharp, craggy rocks emerging from the sea.Just a few yards to the right or left, and they’d slice through the ship like those icebergs had theTitanic.
“Stand by the larboard anchor!”The captain’s voice cracked the wind.
Desi spun to see men manning the capstan.A cloak of intense focus fell upon the entire crew.She had been on ships before, but nothing run so precise, so raw.Caleb didn’t just issue commands; he bent the ship’s will to his own, reading every shift of wind, every sigh of water against her hull.
“Strike the tops’l!Leave her under fores’l and mizzen!”
The smaller sails filled.The ship slowed as it passed the jagged rocks and entered the harbor.
The lead line splashed into the calm waters again as more soundings were taken.Desi glanced over the railing, spotting colorful fish flitting about in the turquoise waters.Fish meant reefs, and reefs meant certain damage to a ship like theSentinel.
Still, the captain shouted orders with calm confidence.
“Trim the mizzen tight.Keep her head to the wind!”
TheSentinelanswered sluggishly, her bow easing toward wooden docks stretching into deeper water.
Beyond the docks, a bustling town appeared.People who were as tiny as ants moments ago now formed into human beings as they hurried about their business.Carriages and wagons rumbled down Cobblestone streets, servants and slaves carried loads on their backs.Shouts, the clang of a bell, and the snap of a whip reached her ears.Desi stood mesmerized.
“Fenders out to starboard!Hands to the capstan.Stand by to let go anchor!”
The anchor dropped with a rattling roar.TheSentinelswung gently in the jade-green water, coming to a rest, battered, bleeding.But not beaten.Caleb finally stepped back, scanning the cliffs as though he expected an army to descend upon them.An expression claimed his handsome features, one that seemed foreign to the man—apprehension, fear, even dread.
She followed his gaze to the tree-lined hills.Movement caught her eyes along the craggy tops—fleeting silhouettes, dark against the morning sky, there one moment and gone the next.Too far to make out faces.She glanced at Caleb.Had he seen it too?Probably, since he suddenly gripped the hilt of his sword.
A sense of foreboding tightened around Desi as she scanned the island again.Ridiculous!She was a modern, educated woman who didn’t believe in bad omens or superstitious nonsense.Yet as the crew leapt onto the dock to tie off the ship, an icy wind swept across theSentinel, flapping sails and startling gulls.Desi hugged herself, unable to shake the sudden feeling that they’d just sailed into a harbor that would close around them like a trap.
♥
Caleb gazed across the island he had hoped never to see again.Île Du Crâne, a fitting name for what happened here, whathehad caused.A vile brew churned in his gut, shame, guilt, anger, hatred, and even fear.“Help me.Lord,” he whispered his final appeal to the Almighty.Three simple words—words that if he had uttered them two years past, might have saved many lives.Ifhe had put aside his pride, vanity, and self-reliance.
But there was naught to be done for it now.
He was older, but was he wiser?He had changed, but would God risk using him again?He patted his pocket.Oddly, the Ring felt warm beneath the leather.A sign he was meant to have it?To use it in case he should stumble yet again?
His crew finished securing the ship and awaited his command, their bodies fidgeting, their expressions anxious to go ashore.Yet as tired as they all were, it was he who must assess the brig’s damage, make a list of repair supplies, and then send men into town to procure them.That way, they could start work first thing tomorrow, and with God’s grace, set sail the following day.Just a few days.That’s all he needed.But was it long enough to avoid the Marquis de Montverre, especially his daughter, or worse… any survivors who remembered him?
Three hours later, Caleb stood amidships, smiling at his exuberant crew as they clambered down the ladder and sped across the docks into town.He’d given orders to three of his most reliable men to gather the supplies they needed from the ship chandler, the sailmakers, and the shipyard.Once they returned, he’d tasked ten of his crew to move the ballast to the port side of the ship and work through the night to repair the rent in the hull and sails.To the rest, he’d given shore leave until the morning when they would return and relieve their fellow crewmen.
An icy breeze wafted about him, etching a chill down his back.Beyond the town, jagged green hills rose toward a gray afternoon sky, their peaks swallowed up by a black mist that seemed to pulse…to breathe as if alive.
Caleb forced down his rising terror.He hated this island.Nothing good dwelt here.Hence, the sooner he could repair theSentineland be on his way, the better.
Liam approached, jarring Caleb from his morbid thoughts, and showering him with the scent of Bergamot and cloves.A salacious gleam shone from his eyes as he rubbed his hands together.“I’ll be off then, Cap’n.I intend to change some lucky wench’s life tonight.”
From Caleb’s other side, Alden quirked a brow.“Faith now, the question begs, for better or worse?”
“I’ve ne’er had any complaints.”Liam grinned.
Emerging from the main hatch, Dr.Brandt limped toward them, cane in hand.“You don’t stay long enough to hear any.”
Caleb chuckled.“The doc’s got a point.”He’d tried more than once to talk to his bosun, tell him that his philandering would not only never satisfy but would lead him to hell.But the Irishman would have none of it.Another blight on Caleb’s mission to save the lost.
“Nevertheless, a wise tactic, Liam,” Alden said, a sarcastic lilt to his tone.“No complaints, no commitments, no real love, nothing but emptiness and futility.”
Brandt chuckled.
