Weary, sore, and concerned, Teach stood inside the captain’s cabin with his back against the door, surveying the chaos before him. The hopeful rays of the early morning sun broke through the last lingering clouds, tinting the windows with bright patches of light. It was a sharp contrast to the storm from the previous night. Maps and papers littered the floor.
In the midst of it all, Anne slept peacefully in the hammock, with her head tilted to the side. Her long lashes created shadows on her cheeks, and her lips were relaxed in sleep. That same mouth could curve up in the most beautiful smile, or a thin scowl when she was upset or angry.
The sight of her was knee-weakening, and sometimes it frightened Teach how much he cared for her.
He approached the hammock, wanting to reassure himself that she was all right. Reaching out to brush a stray hair off her face, he wasn’t prepared for the pistol pointed at his head. Startled, his eyes held hers, and she cursed beneath her breath.
“I’m beginning to think you enjoy pointing that thing at me,” he muttered, his pulse driving in constant spurts.
After a brief hesitation, Anne lowered the weapon. “I wouldn’t point it at you if you didn’t keep sneaking up on me.”
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Then what, exactly, were you doing?” she whispered, her voice fierce.
“Coming to see if you were all right. What happened here?”
“Someone came looking for something.”
Teach scowled. “Who was it?”
“Someone I didn’t recognize. He was built like John, but his hair was dark brown or black.”
“Most of the men on the ship are built like John. That’s why they’re sailors.” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended. They spoke in hushed voices, not wanting to draw any attention, but Teach couldn’t hide his unease. Her description of the man only narrowed his hunt down to half the crew.
Anne grimaced as she shifted slightly in the hammock. “I tried to look for any marks or scars that would help to distinguish him, but it was too dark.”
“Did he see you?”
“Of course he saw me.”
Damnation! Teach’s instantaneous response was to find whoever had entered the cabin and remove his head from his body. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his eyes running down the length of her. She was still dressed in breeches and one of his shirts, and aside from a thin scar on her shin, she showed no outward signs of abuse.
Except for her back.
“No. I think he was more surprised than anything.” Anne’s brow furrowed. “I just can’t imagine what he was looking for. When he saw the pistols, he almost took them, but I don’t believe that’s why he came.”
Teach could guess why the man had come in here. When Teach had spent the first few days of their voyage locked in the cabin, no doubt his crew had thought he was hiding something valuable. He was, but not quite what the men imagined. He didn’t think it had been anyone from the crew of the Deliverance. Those men trusted him and he had no reason to suspect any of them would be so bold as to break into the captain’s cabin. They’d been through too much together.
It was Kitts and his men Teach didn’t trust.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone about me?”
“A lot depends on if he could tell if you were a woman or not. If he didn’t see you clearly, he might wonder who you were and what you were doing in here. In which case, he probably will come back, because he’ll believe I am indeed hiding something in my cabin.”
“Aye, which I am.”
“And if he did notice that I’m female?”
“He might tell the others. And he might come back.” In which case, Teach would most definitely remove the man’s head from his body. He hated feeling out of control, especially when it came to Anne’s safety. There were too many unknowns in this entire situation. “It could be that Kitts sent one of his men to search my cabin. And if Kitts finds out you’re here, when we get back to Nassau, he won’t let you leave this ship without an escort.”
“Then I’ll have to leave the ship before we return to Nassau.”
“First let’s concentrate on finding Easton. We can worry about the rest later.”
“You men are very narrow minded. That’s exactly what John said to me when I asked him about Webb.”
“What about Webb?”
Anne clenched the pistol from Teach, her knuckles turning white. “He cannot be allowed to continue to destroy people’s lives. Someone has to stop him.”
“He’s the bloody governor of Nassau. How exactly do you expect someone to stop him?”
“I haven’t gotten that far.”
“All right. Well, while you’re planning his downfall, I’ll make sure you’re not left alone. Between John, Benjamin, and myself, we should be able keep you company.” He’d expected Anne to be pleased, but from the look on her face, it was clear that she wasn’t. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said.
Only then did Teach notice that Anne still lay unmoving in the hammock. “Would you like to sit up?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She was not fine. She’d barely moved since he’d entered the room. Even before the storm had hit, she’d stood at the window with John. There was no storm now.
“Would you like me to open the window?” Teach asked, watching her closely.
“I can manage. I’m sure you’re busy,” she said.
“Remember when I asked you to be truthful with me?” he asked. Anne nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m asking you now to tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing I can’t take care of,” she said, glaring at him.
“Is it your stitches? Because if it is—”
“Go away.”
“—I need to take a look at them.”
She squirmed beneath his gaze, but remained silent. Frustrated, Teach ran a hand over his face. “Do you want them to become infected? If they do, you’ll have the devil of a time going after Webb.” Teach had cleaned the wounds before he’d sewn her up, but it wouldn’t take much for infection to set in.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Teach opened the door a crack. John looked back at him, his expression earnest.
“May I have a word, captain?”
Teach stood back, shutting the door once John had entered.
“How are ye? Did ye weather the storm?” John asked, glancing at Anne.
She gave him a small smile. “Yes, thank you. Was it terribly difficult on deck?”
“No, nothing that I couldn’t han—”
“What do you want?” Teach snapped.
John’s eyes widened. “I thought you weren’t mad at me?”
“Why would he be mad at you?” Anne asked.
For the love . . . “I’m not mad. I simply want to know what you wish to discuss. It had to be important, otherwise you wouldn’t have left your position on deck,” Teach said pointedly.
“The men have returned to their watches. First watch is on duty while the rest sleep.”
“Good. You should go and rest as well,” Teach said dismissively. Since he’d just spent the past five hours on deck, he could bloody well spend the next half hour with Anne, making sure she was all right. “You pulled your stitches.” He didn’t know for sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that was precisely what Anne had done. Her next words confirmed it.
“Not on purpose.”
“They’ll have to be sewn back up.”
Anne shook her head, her eyes wide. “No.”
“Why not?” Teach demanded. “I did it once before.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t awake while you did it.”
Teach was astounded. She had endured a flogging. How could she be afraid of some stitches? “I’ll be careful.”
“If you come after me with a needle, I will shoot you. Just so you’re aware,” Anne said, tightening her grip on the pistol. As much as he liked the fact that she now favored the weapon he’d given her, he should have removed it from her grasp.
“I have a fine hand. I can sew her up,” John volunteered.
Teach shot John a dark look. “Then I’ll shoot you.”
“This is getting us nowhere. You’ve been awake for most of the night. You need rest as much as the others,” Anne said.
“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re in my hammock.”
Anne pursed her lips.
“Let me check your stitches. It’s too soon for them to come out, Anne. You have to be reasonable.”
The two of them stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. Looking between them, John shifted his weight uncomfortably. “He’s right, Anne. He should at least check them.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered at length.
Clearly pleased that she’d listened to him, John turned to leave.
“Bring me a bottle of brandy before you go up on deck,” Teach said.
John nodded and shut the door behind him.
Folding her arms across her chest, Anne speared him with a glare. “If you think I’m going to let you get drunk and then try to stitch me up, you’re mad.”
“The brandy’s not for me, Anne. It’s for you.”