Page 50 of Devil of the High Seas
Gavin was too weary to really talk, but he didn’t want the guilt of sending an old man away. He nodded.
“Let him in, Doctor,” Ronnie told Dr. Gladstone.
A moment later, the wizened old sailor Bartholomew entered, head bowed as he approached the surgery table. He appeared almost bashful.
“Cap’n. I’m right glad to see you awake. I wanted to thank you. You saved my life and nearly died for it. If it hadn’t been for you and your wife, well... Thank you. I’ve been at sea almost all my life. Figured I die out here sooner or later, but you gave me more time. That means a lot to an old man like me.” Bartholomew held out his hand and Gavin clasped it in his own, giving it a firm shake.
“Well, I’d best be getting back on deck. We’ve sails to mend.” Bartholomew grinned and left.
“Who are the men who were injured?” Gavin glanced at the second table, where one man lay with his leg splinted. He breathed deep and slow, still under the influence of laudanum. But Gavin saw no other man in the room.
“The other fellow has a broken arm. He’s bunking in his hammock right now. He’ll be fine.”
Gavin briefly closed his eyes, exhaustion creeping in. He had a vague memory of swallowing the entire sea and spitting it back up. Perhaps that was why it felt like the devil still sat on his chest.
“Ronnie, is Josephine...? I need to...” But fatigue hit him even as he tried to sit up.
“Whatever it is, Cap’n, it’ll keep, it’ll keep. Rest now.” Ronnie pressed a palm gently on Gavin’s shoulder to ease him back down. “No sense in wooing a lassie when you can barely stand.”
Gavin fell into darkness, but the dreams that followed were soft and golden, filling him with an ardent longing...
He chased a woman through a garden, the night air full of the heavy scent of flowers. He could see her, could almost catch her, if he ran just a bit faster... His hands closed on the back of her silk gown, halting her. She spun around and he saw that it was his beloved Charity, yet she wasn’t his. Her face was more beautiful in the way a woman in the bloom of life looked as she drew close to motherhood. This was not the Charity he’d met at seventeen, but the woman who had married his twin brother and built a life with him. This Charity had never been his. Her eyes were luminous beneath the stars as she gazed up at him. She reached up and cupped his cheek.
“It’s time,” she whispered, her smile bittersweet.
“Time?” He didn’t understand what she was saying.
Somewhere nearby a nightingale started to sing, and she glanced around at the sound before looking at him. “Time to let me go, Gavin.”
Her words broke something inside him, and he clutched her tighter, suddenly afraid, his eyes clouded with tears. “No, I don’t want to.”
She caressed his cheek. “I had my life. Now it’s time for you to live yours. I’m already gone... But she is the one fate always meant for you to find. Go to her.”
Charity pointed to a silhouette of a person sitting on a bench he hadn’t noticed before, a beautiful young woman. She looked lonely, and something about her called to his own lonely heart.
A wind stirred in the garden, and he felt that wind stealing Charity away even as he turned toward the other woman. Flower petals swirled around him, blinding him briefly of his view of the garden. Charity slipped free of his hold as the wind gently pushed him toward the other woman.
“I’m already gone...”
The words left a strange bittersweet hum in his chest as he slowly opened his eyes. The surgery was quiet. No sign of Dr. Gladstone. The sailor on the other table was still asleep, and Gavin guessed that several hours had passed since he’d first awoken. He sat up and let his legs drape over the side of the surgery table. Dried tear tracks tugged at his skin as he rubbed his face with a weary palm.
He feltempty, as though a mighty wave had washed through his heart and soul, leaving nothing but a barren shore.
Had he truly dreamed of Charity? The memory of that dream was hazy now, and it stung his eyes merely trying to recall what he had seen. Yes, he had dreamt of her. She had told him to let go. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized that he’d clung to her memory so fiercely. But now, without that old love to hold onto—or rather, without the memory of that love tethering him down—he felt lighter. A deep breath restored his clarity of thought.
The girl in the garden... Had Charity been right? Was Josephine the woman he was meant to love? The need to see Josephine, to touch her, suddenly overpowered him. He slid off the table and steadied himself as he got his bearings. Then he left the surgery and started toward his cabin.
As he passed sailors going about their duties, each man would stop, nod, or knuckle his forehead in a salute and murmur, “Cap’n.” He responded each time with a small nod before continuing on. When he reached his cabin, his chest tightened with nervousness at the thought of seeing the woman who’d saved his life and quite possibly his heart.
He opened the door and glimpsed her on the bed. She was still in her soaked clothes, just like him, although he could tell the fabric of her shirt and trousers was likely becoming stiff with salt as they dried. He crossed the room and quietly eased down on the side of the bed. Her face was turned toward him, and her brow was furrowed, as if her dreams were troubling. A wealth of tenderness suddenly overflowed inside him. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then stroked his fingertips over her brow until it smoothed and she relaxed.
“You saved me, lass, in more ways than you’ll ever know,” he whispered.
As if comforted by his voice, she shifted on the bed, moving closer to him. Even in her dreams, she seemed to seek him. Gavin didn’t want to wait any longer. He felt ready to open himself to this woman and claim whatever future they could have. Even if it meant fighting his own brother to keep her.
* * *
Josephine moanedas her sore limbs were gently bent and moved. She woke and blinked in confusion at the sight of Gavin bending over her. He paused in the process of removing her trousers. For a moment she was simply overjoyed that he was alive and well. She vaguely remembered someone escorting her to the cabin before she’d passed out. When his hands slid over the bare skin of her thighs, she realized he was taking her clothes off.
