Page 51 of Rose
She shook her head. “Nay, I am all right.”
“It wasn’t a request,” he snapped. “It’s an order.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Ye can’t expect me to cower down below like a captured animal. Tristan, I can help. I can—”
Suddenly, he flung her over his shoulder.
“Have ye gone mad?” she shouted. “Put me down this instant. I am not yer sack of potatoes. Blast ye, Tristan. Tristan!”
She struggled against his strength as he barreled down the stairs.
“Nay,” she yelled. “Don’t do this. Please! Ye can’t shut me away.”
He opened the door and swung her over his shoulder onto the bed. “You will stay down here,” he commanded.
She scurried to her feet. “I will not,” she cried.
“You leave me no choice,” he rasped. Then he turned around and pulled a broad sword out from beneath his desk. She backed away as he came toward her. “By the Saint’s, ye’re mad!” She scurried up on the bed, pressing her back against the wall.
“It will be all right,” he said. Then he shut the door, leaving her in total darkness. Her breath caught at the sound of cracking wood.
“Nay,” she cried, rushing forward. She pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She knew he must have wedged the blade into the floor to block her way. She beat her fists against the wood.
“Come back,” she shouted. “Tristan! You cannot leave me down here!”
A crack of thunder shocked her ears. The sea no longer cradled the hull, it rocked and pushed and strained against the ship’s walls. She fell back on the bed. A breath later, sheets of rain battered the deck overhead. Waves beat the sides. She rolled back and forth, then scrambled off and sat in the small floor space, curling her knees to her chest. But she knocked against the table and then the door. The wind shrieked, screaming like a banshee across the moors. Above the din, she heard muffled shouts from the crew and the splash of waves on the deck. Water crept beneath the door, wetting her tunic. She pressed her feet into the door and her back against the bed, straining to keep her body from thrashing about as the boat dipped and swayed. The boards creaked and shuddered at her.
Hours choked past while she remained buried in twisting darkness. Fear of sinking to the dark abyss gripped her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut against the images that came unbidden to her mind: a rising wave sweeping the deck with its salty tentacles, seizing the men and dragging them below. Tristan’s body flung into the air and swallowed by watery jaws, lost forever to the deep.
“Nay,” she cried.
That wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t!
But a sob escaped her throat. She knew better than most that the worst could always happen. Her heart pounded as she prayed for Tristan and the crew of the Messenger.
Then, just as suddenly as the storm began, the pelting rain stopped. The wind continued to howl and toss the ship. But slowly the gale quieted, and her body no longer thrashed against the bed or the stand. She lit a candle to chase away the darkness the instant before she heard feet barreling down the steps, and the sound of the sword being wrenched free. Breathless, she pressed her hands into the floor and stood just as the door swung wide.
“Tristan,” she cried, as she drank in the sight of his strong shoulders silhouetted against the soft light slanting in from the open hatch. She flung herself into his arms. She coursed her hands over his shoulders, then up to cup his cheeks and back down his chest. “Are ye all right? Are ye whole?” she said, her voice as frantic as her hands.
“We are all fine,” he hastened to say. Then he cupped her cheeks. “Are you all right?”
She nodded as a knot formed in her throat. The weight of the last few hours came crashing down. Her legs gave way. He lifted her feet off the ground and crushed her to his chest. She sobbed, her tears loosening fear’s grip on her heart.
“We are all fine,” he crooned in her ear. “Philip, Davy, Piper, everyone. And your ship is fine, too. We’ll have to replace some of the halyards, but otherwise it weathered the storm.” He set her down and once more cupped her cheeks. She looked up at him, her heart still racing. “We are all fine,” he said. “Do you hear me, Rose?”
She fought for calm as the meaning of his words penetrated her fear. “We are all right,” she echoed.
“That’s right,” he soothed and held her close. “You must have been terrified alone down here.” He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze. “Forgive me, Rose. I did not order you below because I thought you incapable.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I can’t captain this ship and worry about your safety. I needed you to be safe.”
“I know,” she said. Her mind cleared. She took in his disheveled appearance. Black curls clung to his forehead. His tunic was torn at the shoulder.
“You were just trying to protect me.”
He held her close. “I needed you to be safe,” he said softly. “I need you.”
They locked eyes. His words echoed in her mind.
I need you.
