“You always know just how to pick ‘em, Captain.” Sprat tipped his head. “Not sure how you know. But you see something in people before anyone else.” He rubbed his jaw as he held the ship’s wheel with one hand. “Maybe you even see something in them before theysee it themselves.” He let out a long whistle. “Now that’s something. Sounds deep. Maybe I should have been a philosopher instead of a privateer.”
“Sure, Sprat. I can see you now, cigar in your mouth, feet propped up, reading books all day and chatting men’s ears off at night.”
“Now, now. No need to rip into my dreams.”
“Didn’t realize you had any dreams beyond this ship.”
“Maybe I do.” He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Should I be looking for a new first mate?”
“Nah. Just yanking your chain. I’ll be here with you til the end. No need to worry your pretty little head.”
Jude barked out a laugh. “Good to hear.”
“Now get back to your cabin,” he shouted, “before you do something you’ll regret.”
And he might just do something regrettable. Now that he was up here, he had an excuse to distance himself from her. Which made the most sense to do. He had room for only one anchor in his life and didn’t want any deadweight hanging around his neck.
But then he heard in his head the soft plea she had made just before he left, and he felt her vulnerability resting in his hands. Not that she was something easily broken. No, not that. But a storm like this one could leave a nasty imprint on her. A scratch. A scar. A bruise. And that thought tore at his own flesh because in no universe could he imagine letting any harm come to her.
So what made the most sense in his head—to create distance because he wasn’t looking for a relationship—didn’t make any sense in his heart.
Jude’s eyes met Sprat’s. “I’m going back down.”
His first mate belted out a laugh that should have been drowned out by the rains; instead, it followed him all the way back down to his cabin.
Not clear on what he was going to do with Agatha, he burst through the door hoping his sudden movement would jostle something into place in his mind. When he entered the room, his gaze immediately landed on Agatha, curled up on his bed, and nothing else mattered except to go to her. To be with her.
He shed his outer layer, and as he climbed into the bed, it sunk hard and fast, rolling her into him. Wrapping his arms around her, he slid further under the coverlet and laid down with her against his chest.
“Sh…it’s alright.”
“I know.” Though her words were brave, there was a subtle quake in them. “I-I-I’m not usually afraid of storms.” Her teeth chattered. “B-but here on the ocean feels so different. If something happens to this ship, we’ll sink.”
“She’s been through worse.”
“But what if she decides to give up this time?”
Jude had faced death countless times, too many to recall each one individually. But he still remembered the first time, and he imagined it felt very similarly to how Agatha felt right now. Whenever Jude had come face to face with death, no one had been there to hold his hand through it. He was a man. A privateer. A captain, damn it. He had figured it all out on his own. He had faked so much confidence for so long that it had become his default demeanor. But he knew Agatha needed some reassurance.
“She won’t,” he rasped into her hair.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she does what I tell her to do. Anddo you know why?”
Just as he intended, he felt the curl of her lips. A small smile tickling his chest. “Because you’re the captain.”
“That’s right.” He pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head. “Now, try to sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep.”
“I’ll hold you until you do.”
“Is that supposed to be a promise or a threat?”
A grunt was the best he could do in reply because truthfully, he wasn’t sure which one it was. This woman had pushed, elbowed, and thundered her way into his life as swiftly as this storm had befallen them. It was impossible to decipher his feelings, let alone process them in full.
