Page 76 of Rose
Chapter Twenty Nine
Rose gripped the portside rails of the forecastle and watched the waves rise and crash against a distant strip of land. “Which island is that?” she shouted to Tristan over the howling wind.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Islay.”
“Then we are not far from Colonsay,” she said brightly, despite the gathering clouds.
“We are near, but the wind is against us. This storm slows our progress.”
No sooner did the words leave Tristan’s lips than a bolt of lightning sliced the sky. An instant later, the heavens opened, and sheets of rain poured down.
“Jacob, man the oar,” Tristan shouted. He started down the stairs but called back to her. “Go check on Elizabeth.”
Rose shook her head. “I just did. Her nerves were rattled, but she assured me that she was fine.”
Tristan marched back up the stairs, determination glinting in his eyes.
She backed against the railing. “Don’t ye dare,” she warned. “Ye’re not stuffing me down below again.”
He lunged for her, and as effortlessly as if she were a sack of grain, tossed her over his shoulder.
“Tristan Thatcher, ye put me down this instant,” she railed.
He ignored her demand as he barreled down the stairs to their cabin. Throwing open the door, he deposited her on the bed alongside Elizabeth.
Rose scrambled up on her knees, reaching to catch the door before it shut, but she was too late. The door slammed closed.
“Tristan, don’t ye dare block that—”
The sound of his broad sword carving into the floorboard reached her ears.
“Door,” she finished under her breath. She blew out a frustrated sigh. And then she turned to Elizabeth who clasped a candle in her fist, her eyes wide.
“You actually want to be up there?”
Rose nodded. “Of course, I do.” Then she cupped her hands and shouted, straining to reach Tristan’s ears above deck. “I would rather help the crew than wait for the storm to pass down here.”
“Don’t be mad at him, Rose. You know Tristan is only thinking of your safety and the safety of his crew.”
“He is overly cautious,” Rose answered.
Elizabeth smiled. “Of course, he is. He loves you.”
~ * ~
“Jack, what are we going to do? We’ve scoured the isles, and still there is no sign of Rose.”
Jack pressed his lips together in a grim line. He had no answer for Rory. They had visited every port in the Hebrides. No one attested to seeing a woman who fit Rose’s description, or the skiff Ian had built.
“I feel yer despair,” Alec said quietly, drawing Jack’s gaze. “Ye will turn yer back on Rose if ye give into it. She is alive. I am certain of it.”
Jack straightened and steeled his shoulders. “Alec is right,” he said to his brothers. “We hold fast to hope. We need to decide where to search next.”
Quinn came forward. “We should get word to the Abbot. He can send out agents to search the mainland.”
Jack nodded. “Let us return to Colonsay. Rory, ye can take our message to the abbot. The rest of us will start searching the coast.”
Alec dug the steering oar into the water, changing their course for home. Before too long, the sky began to darken. Ominous clouds writhed with terrific life overhead, but the wind was on their side, barreling them south past the Isle of Mull. Jack was certain they would reach Colonsay before the storm unleashed its fury upon their heads. But then, in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminated a massive square sail.
