"We need to tend to her wound, first," Chase snaps.
"Aimee, the Chen came, and …they burned your shop," Bronnah sobs.
Aimee gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. "No!" She spins rushing to Allen, who catches her in his arms. "No… not my shop, it's all I had."
"I'm so sorry, Aimee, it's all my fault. If you hadn't helped me…" Bronnah starts to say, but Aimee whirls on her.
“This is not your fault, Bronnah. You didn’t ask for any of this. Just like those other girls didn’t. They are responsible for their own actions. I’m sorry, I just need a moment.”
Aimee runs from the room and climbs down a ladder into a small cabin where she can cry in privacy. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Allen asked softly. His brown eyes flicker with fury as the woman he loves sobs in the bottom of his ship.
“We will, but first we need to leave,” Chase demands.
“No one tells me what to do, Marshall. I don’t care who you are,” he growls, and they stand face to face.
“I can commandeer this ship in the name of the Federal Government, Captain,” Chase snaps in a lethal voice. Bronnah watches in shock and then leaps to her feet.
"Oh, for feck's sake, we need ta leave. Aimee's in trouble, Captain. The Chen burned her shop, and we fought them off, but they know she's involved, and they were not above killing her." Her Irish accent flares and they stare at her stunned by the switch.
Exasperated and hurting, Bronnah stomps out of the room, leaving them to sort out their differences and goes after Aimee. A sign above the opening reads, “Go down backward,” and points to a narrow ladder. It leads below deck. Bronnah follows the instruction and is surprised to find herself in a hallway with doors. She follows the sounds of Aimee’s sobs and knocks on the door. “Go away,” she sniffs.
"Please don't cry, Aimee. I'll make it up to ya, someday." Aimee opens the door and plops down on a single bunk bed. Bronnah steps inside a small bedroom with a low ceiling that has barely enough space to turn around in. A single window that overlooks the water, with a small mirror and hooks on the wall.
"Bronnah, I need to process this. I put every penny I had into my shop, and now it's' gone. I've lost everything all at once. Forgive my selfishness."
"That's nonsense," Allen says from behind them. He stares at Bronnah, "Could you give us a moment, please." Bronnah smiles and moves outside into the hallway. "Thank you," Allen says, "Help yourself to some tea in my quarters." She nods and starts up the ladder.
Allen steps inside the room and closes the door before turning to Aimee. “This is not how I had planned this evening, my love. I wanted to wine and dine you and turn your head with beautiful words, but it was not to be.” Allen drops to his knee and holds up a wooden box.
“What’s this?” Aimee gasps.
“This is a trinket box, meant for you to keep special memories in. I made it from the scrap wood of this ship. Open it.” Aimee’s hands are trembling, and she lifts the small wooden box and gasps.
Inside resting a white lace handkerchief is a small golden band. "It's not much, but I would be honored to call you to call you mine for as long as we walk this earth. Aimee Lancour, would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"
Aimee drops down on the bed and stares at him with tears streaming down her shocked face. She whispered, “Oui, je t’épouserai.” Allen stands up and walks over to her.
"I sure hope that's a yes," he laughs when she throws herself into his arms.
“Yes!” He kisses her, and they laugh. In one moment, she loses one dream and discovers a new one.
“Now tell me, Wife, why I have a U.S. Marshall threatening to commandeer my ship and Chen warriors trying to kill you?” Aimee’s head drops to his shoulder.
“Mon Dieu, it is a long story.”
Chapter 19
Bronnah hurries to the ladder and climbs up ignoring the stinging and burning in her side as the wound reopens from the strain. She hisses and drops her forehead to the rails, resting for a moment. Two strong hands reach down and lift her up as if she weighs nothing.
“Oh!” She squeals and Chase smiles as she clutches at him. “Warn a girl next time,” she snaps.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said grinning down at her. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Why don’t we take a look at that injury?”
“We? That’s very kind of you, Marshall but…” she pushes away from him and glares when he interrupts her.
"Call me Chase," he gently glides her into the Captain's quarters and closes the doors behind them. They stare at each other in the yellow glow of the kerosene lanterns. The room seems to grow smaller the moment the door closes, and she has to fight back the urge to back away from him. Trust is difficult to give after everything she's been through, and he's much larger in tight spaces.
“From this moment on, Miss O’Dalaigh you are in my custody. We must work together if you wish to survive.” Chase grabs a rag from the tea service and presses it roughly to her side. She hisses and steps back only to bump into a chair. “Sit down.”
"Marshall Rivers, I'd like to warn ya against man handling me. I don't care for it," she glares and pushes against his chest only to find a wall of steel. His hand covers hers, but his grin doesn't quite
