Page 65 of The Pirate's Daughter

“Gave us a scare that one,” Mr. Quiggly complained in a gruff tone that belied him wiping at hiseyes.

“She’s fit to sail,” Devinconfirmed.

“Aye, but is she fit to shoot me?” Mr. Asher asked, reminding Devin it was he who’d helped chain Mia to theship.

“I’d not worry too much Mr. Asher. If she’s a mind to shoot anyone, it’d be me and I believe all isforgiven.”

“Besides, Mrs. Winthrop seems more the kind to drop you on a shoal and let you die slow like and all of heat and thirst,” purser Dickson commented cheerfully. Everyone but Mr. Asher laughed. Mia was turning his entire crew into pirates. Such tactics were not above board with navymen.

Again, Devin cleared his throat. “All right, men. Let’s sail her into port. And pray we find our orders home waitingthere.”

The men scattered as Lieutenant Coventon stepped up. “Mrs. Winthrop is truly on themend?”

“Seems so. I’m sure by the time we reach port she’ll be fighting to go ashore.” Devin said, walking back to the helm to wait for a meal to be taken in toMia.

“Are you going to take her ashore?” the man askedincredulously.

“I think I have to,” Devin said with a chuckle. “But I might be a wiser man to have us shackled together when wego.”

The man’s bark of laughter rang out and turned heads even as he tried to cover it with a cough and prevent another from escaping. “It’s always good to know I’m learning from a man who considers all the options.” Again, he tried not tolaugh.

“Indeed, Lieutenant,” Devin said and took the helm. He sailed the ship into port at Cartagena under the remains of the old fortress brought to ruin almost a century ago. A testament to how such tumultuous times could damage so much but still leave enough of a reminder of what was there before if anyone was so willing torebuild.

That Mia stood at his side as the ship dropped anchor and that she took his hand as they disembarked said she was so willing. He couldn’t help his own pride walking down the streets with her at his side. Or laughing when she quarreled bitterly with a shopkeeper over the price of things or even his gratitude at her remembering the bill of supplies he needed to give to the man at the chandlery. The ship would be at port this time long enough to take on a full load of supplies and have the bilge pump repaired properly. This time when they sailed out it would be across the Atlantic heading for home—heading forEngland.

* * *

Mia hesitated again to ask,but she knew it could well be their last day in port and given Devin held the documents telling him to take theIron Roseback to Portsmouth, she might not get this chance again for a long while. Still, shehesitated.

“Was there any last thing you wanted to do, Mia, before we set sail?” he asked, smiling at her so her heart pounded a bitharder.

“Aye,” she hesitatedagain.

“Are you going to tell me, or do I guess?” he teased, smiling as he brought her hand to hislips.

“I wonder might we go up a bit to Santo Domingo?” She saw him hesitate. “It’s not but an hour by horse, a little more by coach,” she rushed on, hoping to gain hiscompliance.

“Can you even ride?” heasked.

She hoped he’d melt at the look she gave him. Papa made sure she was capable of such things. He should knowthat.

He only laughed. “Well, I’m not sure I can, but if you get a coach we can make the trip,” he said and opened his arms when she came to sit in his lap. "What'sthere?"

“My mother,” Mia said, reveling in how his arms tightened around her. “One time more before I leave here is all Iwant.”

“Mia,” Devin snapped, cutting her off. “Of course, we’ll go.” He softened his tone and lifted a hand to her head, bringing it down to his shoulder. “I’d not deny you such a thing,” he said and squeezed heragain.

“We can, but will we?” She didn’t think so. They were heading to his home. They were exchanging these beautiful warm islands for his cold and dark one, and she didn’t think he’d be inclined to leave again oncesettled.

He didn’t answer her. He was in his own thoughts as they took a coach further inland to the lovely church with the well-kept graveyard. He held her hand again as she led him to the half-finished stone carving of a life-size angel, arms outstretched and face tilted up. Kneeling down, she pulled the few weeds that dared to grow there and hide theengraving.

Molly Cadley—read the first line. The second—June the Fifth 1787 to August the Ninth 1815and the last the only quote she’d not been able to put her own mark on, chosen by not just Papa but by all the crew. From the patron saint of all maritime—Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown. St. Brendan TheNavigator.

“Such a beautiful piece, Mia,” Devin said and she looked to see him admiring the statue. “It seemsunfinished.”

Mia smiled sadly at him. “Like her life, I think,” she said and saw him flush a bit. “It was the piece she was working on when she was killed. That’s what she did. Most all the pieces here are her work, as are many through the city as well. Some were in private homes, but I think Papa bought most of those back when she died. I don’t know where theyare.”

Devin looked around. It was clear in his expression when he spotted one of those pieces. Her style and talent were verydistinguishable.

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