Free A Captain's Destiny by Marie Caron Page A

why he had chosen the name. They’d set sail that very day to retrieve the gold he’d left behind, on the island where he’d lost his heart to the only woman he would ever love.
    Now, two weeks later, the Katherine was safely moored on the leeward side of the rugged island in a small cove, safe from a storm that had hammered the island chain during the night. They had been there since the previous afternoon, about twelve hours, when the lookout posted in the crow’s nest spotted what appeared to be wreckage floating ashore, about a quarter mile east of their location. The debris, which had washed up on the pristine, white beach, had not been there at sunset the day before. Jack, who had become tired of being cooped up on the ship with nothing to do but wait out the storm, was eager to go ashore and stretch his legs, so he decided to lead a group of his men down the beach to investigate.
    The wind was still gusting, but at least it was no longer raining. There were a few crates washed up on the sand, and here and there lay pieces of a mast, ripped portions of canvas sails, and other debris. It was a ghastly reminder of just how much damage a storm could do, and how lucky they had been to have taken shelter when they did.
    “The ship must ’ave run aground last night in the storm,” old Jim remarked, as he tried to lift one corner of what appeared to be a cabin door. But the solid old oak panel was too heavy for him to budge on his own.
    A piece of blue cloth stuck out from under one end, and the old man gasped, imagining the worst. “Here! Help me lift this,” he cried, and Jack and two other men came and lifted the door away. “Saints preserve us!” the old salt cried when they saw what lay under the door.
    *
    Back in the other direction, a man climbed out of the sea, slowly and painfully inching his way up the anchor chain of the Katherine .
    * * * *
    “I don’t know if she’ll make it, lad, but she’s as comfortable as I can make ’er,” a male voice declared sadly.
    His voice seemed to come from the bottom of a very deep well, and she had to try hard to hear him, to understand him. Somehow she knew that the voice was referring to her, and she forced her eyes open and tried to speak. But her voice was barely a whisper as her breath escaped from her sore throat. He turned to leave, and she panicked. No! She didn’t want him to leave. She had a million questions she needed to ask him, but it felt like she’d been eating sand. That distasteful thought caused her to recall the storm and the ship, and how she had been washed overboard. The last thing she recalled was getting hit in the head. The storm had been fierce, but somehow she had survived. But where was she now? Unless she was mistaken, this was not the same ship on which she and Anthony had set out for England. That thought reminded her of something else…where was Anthony?
    “Pardon me, Sir, but where is my husband?” she asked in her scratchy whisper. This time he must have understood her, for he turned and looked back at her.
    “Sorry,” he said, shaking his grizzled head meaningfully.
    He looked familiar, but Katherine couldn’t place him. She supposed it didn’t matter whether or not she knew him. What mattered was that she was alive…and safe as far as she could tell.
    “She’s comin’ around, Captain,” the old man said as he stepped aside. He managed to remain in one place, while the ship tipped back and forth.
    Another, much taller man stood braced in the doorway, his dark head bent down to one side, allowing him to see into the cabin. Katherine lifted herself on one elbow in order to get a better look at him. She wanted to thank him for rescuing her.
    He stooped a bit and entered the cabin, stopping just a few feet from the bed on which she lay. Her head began to spin again, and time seemed to stop. My God, it could not be. The second man was tall and lean and robust looking, and he was as familiar to her as her own reflection in