Free The Ransom by MaryLu Tyndall

over the heaving deck. What was it about the sea—the wild, adventurous sea—that stirred his soul and heated his blood? He supposed he’d inherited that love from his father, who’d once been the greatest pirate on the Caribbean some twenty-five years past. In fact, his father had rescued his mother off a deserted island not far from where Alex now sailed. Rescued her, and together they had become missionaries to the pirates. But that was a story for another time. For now, Alex liked to picture his father, Captain Merrick, standing in much the same position Alex now stood, commanding his ship of pirates as they scoured the sea for treasure. That was before his father had turned to God and given up the pirate’s life for his namby-pamby religion.
    The Vanity pitched over a roller, sending spray over the deck. Alex shook the water from his hair, wishing he could shake the memories of his childhood as well. It wasn’t a bad upbringing. He and his two sisters had every need met, a good education, and the love of wonderful parents. When they’d been home. More often than not, his mother and father had been away on some godly mission, leaving Alex and his sisters in the care of wet-nurses and housekeepers. And of course, Mr. Whipple. Each charged on pain of death to keep the youngsters confined in a prison of religiosity and morality that had nearly strangled Alex. And though his parents espoused a loving God when they were around, Alex wondered if the Almighty was as absent from Alex’s life as his parents had always been.
    Lightning cracked the retreating dark clouds, followed by a low rumble of thunder minutes later. However, Alex had gained one valuable thing from his father—his ability to command a ship. When Captain Merrick had been home, he’d taken Alex out on The Redemption , taught him everything about a brig from keel to keelson: how to navigate, sail, determine weather, read the stars, smell danger in the wind. He’d even taught him how to load and fire a cannon, wield a cutlass, fire a flintlock, and make grenades. And Alex had fallen in love with the sea. For it was upon her waters—and only there—that he’d had his father’s full attention. During those countless hours together, Alex had come to know the honorable man who had sired him. Regardless of his father’s belief in a nonexistent God and his life’s useless devotion to the same, Captain Merrick was a brave warrior. A good man who cared for others.
    Alex smiled. Such fond memories. Albeit short ones. For no sooner would they make port in Charleston than his father would leave again on some mission.
    Movement broke his musings as Larkin appeared beside him.
    “There’s a ship off our starboard quarter, Captain.”
    Alex swung about, scanned the horizon, but saw nothing. Yet he trusted the sailing master, who seemed to have a talent for smelling a ship before it ever appeared. “I swear you’re either part fish or part bird, Larkin.” Alex plucked out his scope.
    Larkin grinned and snapped dark hair from his face as the ship bucked over a swell and a blast of briny air struck them. Dressed in all black from his leather boots, breeches, and billowing shirt to his silver laced jerkin, the only thing of color on the sailing master was a red cravat and his stark gray eyes. Tall, muscled, and in possession of an inherent charm, ’twas no wonder the ladies flocked toward him like birds to their favored nest. The best sailing master on the seas, Larkin had sailed with Alex for two years, yet a slight hesitancy, an insincerity in his eyes, forbade Alex to completely trust him.
    “A sail! A sail!” bellowed from the tops. Before the lookout announced the direction, Alex lifted his glass to the area Larkin had indicated. And there she stood, a three-masted, square-rigged Dutch Fluyt slipping through the turquoise water without a care in the world.
    “Three points off the starboard quarter!” came the direction.
    Alex shifted the scope to the