BookThree
By
CandaceOsmond
Copyright © 2018Candace Osmond
All rightsreserved.
ISBN-13:978-1-988159-53-9
FirstEdition
DigitalVersion
Cover Design byMajeauDesigns
The characters,places, and events portrayed in this book are completely fictionand are in no way meant to represent real people or places.Although the province ofNewfoundland is an existing location, the use of it in the book isfor fictional purposes and not meant to depict true historicalaccuracy.
Tableof Contents
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
ChapterSix
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
ChapterTen
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author
ChapterOne
Nearly three months at sea with your best friendand a crew of burly pirates sounds like an adventure until you’resecretly fearing for your life in the dead of night. I wrapped myred coat tightly around my shift, blocking out the chilly night airas I stood on the deck above the stern.
I leanedagainst the thick wooden railing as I peered down at themesmerizing midnight sea below and watched the dark tones of jadecrash together while my ship trailed along on our never-endingjourney to England. I found myself in that same spot, night afternight, worried for… everything. My crew, my mother, the childgrowing inside of me.
And Henry’ssanity.
I led us onthis potentially doomed mission and my friends followed blindly.Now I laid awake every night, obsessing over everything that couldgo wrong. Who was I to lead a crew of pirates? Who was I to thinkshe could sail across the ocean and take down the most ruthlesswoman to ever exist? I knew very little of this era aside from whatI’d been exposed to and I often found myself making decisions onthe fly. Like saving Henry from Kelly’s Island. I’d replayed thewhole thing in my mind a million times and entertained all the manyways it could have gone so horribly wrong.
I was lucky, atbest, and I worried when that luck would begin to run out.
“Ithought I’d find you up here,” spoke a voice from over myshoulder.
I turned tofind Lottie and smiled. Our three months at sea brought us closertogether and our friendship had grown into something I took comfortin. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”
“Again?”She sidled up next to me and rested her forearms on the railing.“You may be able to evade sleep,” she reached over and placed her palm against myslightly curved belly, “but that baby cannot. Go to bed,Dianna.”
“Why areyou up?” I asked, dodging her demand.
She shrugged.“I worry about you. Ever since–”
“Don’t,”I told her and mindlessly reached up to touch my fingers to mythroat, the skin still tender from the remnants of bruising I hidwith a scarf. “Forget I told you about that.”
Sheopened her mouth to protest but I shot my friend a look that saidit was over. Lottie then sighed and looked up at the twinkling stars above us. “Augustusis worried about Henry.”
“Why?What did you tell him?”
I caught aslight roll of her eyes. “Nothing. You know I’d never speak a wordof sworn secrecy, Dianna.”
“Yeah,I’m sorry,” I replied, immediately regretting my words. “You’reright. I shouldn’t have said that.” I inhaled deeply. “I’m justbecoming stir crazy.”
“Finnsays we should be there soon.”
“God, Ihope so.” I folded my arms tightly across my torso and gazedup with her. “I lovethe sea. But I’m ready to step foot on some land for awhile.”
“I wouldsell my soul for a warm bath,” she spoke dreamily.
I found myselflaughing, something I hadn’t done in a while. Not sincerely,anyway. “And a fresh pot roast.”
We sat on awooden crate and listed the many things we’d delight in once wemade landfall. Clean clothes, a long bath, a comfy bed, favoritefoods. The list went on until the faint orange-red glow of therising sun began to seep through the low clouds on the horizon. Mysignal to head back to my quarters. Where Henry slept, unaware ofwhere I spent most of my nights. Lottie and I parted ways and Iturned the old brass knob to my room, careful to be as quiet aspossible.
But it didn’tmatter.
“Up earlyagain, I see,” he spoke solemnly. I turned to find him standing atthe window, gazing out at the same ocean I’d been staring atearlier. He spun slowly and met my eyes, his full of regret andpain. I looked away, as I often did. Ignoring it.
“Lottiecouldn’t sleep,” I lied and went straight to my bed.
“Oh?”Henry mused and walked toward where I sprawled out across theblankets.
His largeframe cast a shadow over my body and a chill crept up my spine. Hethen kneeled next to the bed, allowing the morning sun to shineover his shoulders and warm my face as he placed a carefulhand on my growingbelly.
“Is shealright?”
“Yes,” Icontinued to fib. My white lies were beginning to pile up, and I feared when they’dturn black. “Just restless. Eager to get off the ship.”
He noddedmindlessly. “Yes, as we all are.” His wide hand fanned over theslightly curved shape of my stomach and the hint of a smile foundits way to his lips. “How is baby today?”
The lifegrowing inside of me had become the only topic we could comfortablytalk about. Something we both shared and loved fiercely.
“Quiet,”I told him and mirrored the tiny smile. “We should probably thinkof a name, something besides baby.”
His browfurrowed. “But we don’t know whether it’s a boy or a girl.”
“We couldpick a gender-neutral name,” I suggested.
Henry’s facewarped in confusion. “Gender-neutral?”
“Uh,yeah, sorry.” I laughed. “That’s a term from my time. It meanssomething that works for all genders. Male, female, or anyother.”
His faceremained twisted in thought as he processed my words. “Anyother?”
I laughed againand leaned over to smooth the surface of his scruffy cheek with myhand.
“Yes, butthat’s a conversation for another time. I don’t want to overloadyour old-world brain.”
Themoment was light, but I immediately took note of how his bodyrelaxed into my touchas if he’d been too scared to touch me first. The thoughtstruck a chord in my heart. I pulled at the collar of his whiteshirt and brought his face to mine.
“Kiss me,Henry.”
His bodywas tense, unsure, but did as I asked. The warmth of his soft lipsmelted
