Page 67 of Scourge of the Shores
He brushed off his coat. "Make sure ye figure out which one ye are before it’s too late. But ye best be careful, boy.”
His tone was even but edged with a chill. "The men ain’t blind, and they sure ain’t stupid . . . the ones that matter.”
Robert’s grip tightened around the salted meat.
“Ye ever seen a man gutted slow, just ‘cause he let his heart do the thinkin’? I seen it. If Rosa or Blackwood, Damien, one of the lot, catch wind that ye got more than just a bargain on yer mind,”—he dragged his thumb across his throat—“They’ll carve her up first and slit her pretty lil’ neck, just to watch ye break before blastin’ yer belly full of lead.”
Robert’s blood turned ice cold as his gaze drifted to the fire. His jaw clenched. He wanted her, and if they ever laid hands on her, he’d haunt them out of Tophet. “How do I fight for her without them killin’ her?” he muttered more to himself than Frank, since whatever happened with Frank’s lass left him a man who only gave warnings instead of taking risks.
But Frank chuckled and shook his head anyway, answering his question. “Ye’re the son of Robert ‘The Ruthless’ Jaymes. If ye’re even half the pirate he was, ye’ll figure it out. Love makes men weak—but the ones worth followin’ make it their strongest blade. Prove ye can wear yer father’s hat, and the world’ll be at yer feet.”
Then, without waiting for a reply, Frank stood up and walked off toward his tent, leaving Robert alone with nothing but the fire and a new ache in his chest.
CHAPTER 15
The Warrior's Duty
Danna stood with her hands on her hips, examining the barrels of tar and pitch. Cain hadn’t returned for the past two months. They had worked shifts through the night and day just as the pirates had. Cain was off somewhere healing, and every day meant he grew stronger. Time was of the essence.
Robert appeared on the shoreline, reporting to her the day’s count of logs cut and the status of repairs, as he always did. The guards stopped escorting him soon after the agreement was made to help the pirates in return for their aid with Cain.
The corners of her mouth upturned at his presence. They’d only been able to sneak away a few times since their kiss on the Northern Boulder, usually inland. Her smile faded, knowing she’d never return there if he left. The boulder had been her favorite place on the island, but at this point in her life, it only held sorrow from a late father and the fleeting memory of loving a man who would leave.
She had returned to the village with a glow about her that day of their kiss. She denied everything, but Lucas knew. He always knew. And worse—he was always right. It was because of him that she was a respected leader. It was because of him that she had no choice but to be.
The thought crept in—could she leave the island in Lucas’s care after they killed Cain? But Ma would die without her. Ma had no will to live, and leaving would be an unacceptable regret.
Lucas stood beside her, echoing her silent worry.
“I see yer smile when ye see him, Danna,” he said. “Don’t let him take yer heart. He’ll leave with it.”
Danna nodded with a pinched mouth. She let the words sit with her, as unwelcome as they were true. But knowing it and stopping it were two different fights. And part of her knew her heart was already in Robert’s hands.
“I know, Lucas.”
Before she could think better of it, she walked to Robert under Lucas’s stern glare.
Danna stopped short of Robert, whose joyous beam danced on his face when he met her.
“Captain Chadwick,” he said with a dip of his chin. “We’ve cut all the wood we need. We’ll need help repairing the ships with the tar and pitch ye’ve made. We should be able to sail to Cain’s lair in the next month.”
Danna dropped her chin to her chest. “That’s good,” she said, realizing they only had a month left to see each other. She peered back at Lucas, who silently watched her and Robert. Curse that man for always being right.
“Is all well?” Robert asked with a gentle grasp of her arm. He glanced at Lucas. “Did something happen?”
Danna shook her head. She shifted her weight and put both hands on her waist. “No,” she said, answering both questions at once. “I’ll see we’ve got enough tar and pitch for our own needs. After that, we’ll lend ye a hand—if ye send over them eighty-four logs we be needin’.”
“Aye,” Robert said with a soft squeeze of her arm. He glanced up at Lucas once more. “Meet me by your centuries-old tree tonight? Rosa and Blackwood haven’t slept, and I’m sure they will be out cold this evening. I’ll sneak away.” The circles under his eyes meant he hadn’t slept either. He wore the same confident grin, but there was a tightness to it, a weariness just beneath the surface.
Danna nodded. “I’ll be waitin’.”
The word clung to her tongue, heavier than she meant it to be. Waiting for him tonight. Waiting for Cain’s return. Waiting for the day she’d have to say goodbye—and hoping, foolishly, that maybe she wouldn’t have to.
The day’s toil drained Danna. Twice, hot tar bubbled up and burned her arm, but both camps succeeded in transferring materials. To celebrate the accomplishment, pirates and islanders decided to sleep and start fresh in the morning.
The night was still, but the air tasted of brine and ash as if Cain watched from somewhere beneath the waves. Danna hoped the sea beast wouldn’t attack at night or in the morning; let them go to him.
She lay in the centuries-old tree branches with an arm behind her head, waiting for Robert. The other arm lay across her belly with bandages from the tar.
