He was finally satisfied. He actually began to feel a little more peaceful. By the time he left the cabin he was convinced his wife couldn't possibly wreck anything else.
Besides, he reasoned, what more could she do?
She'd lulled them into a state of feeling safe again. A full eight days and nights passed without a single mishap taking place. The men were still wary of Sara, but they weren't scowling nearly as often. Some were even whistling every now and again as they saw to their daily tasks. Chester, the doubting Thomas of the crew, was the only one who continued to make the sign of the cross whenever Sara strolled past.
Lady Sara pretended she didn't notice.
Once the sails had been repaired they made good catch-up time. They were just a week or so away from Nora's island home. The weather had been accommodating, though the heat was nearly unbearable in the early afternoons. The nights continued to be just as chilly, however, and thick quilts were still needed to take the shivers away.
All and all, things were looking calm.
Nathan should have realized it wouldn't last. It was late Friday night when he finished giving directions for the watch. He interrupted Jimbo's conversation with Matthew to give them fresh orders for the drill and the firing of the cannons they would practice tomorrow.
The three of them were standing directly in front of the trapdoor that led down to Nathan's cabin. For that reason Jimbo kept his voice low when he said, "The men are beginning to forget this talk about your wife being cursed, boy." He paused to glance behind him, as if that action would assure him that Sara couldn't overhear, then added, "Chester is still telling everyone mischief trails in three. We'd best continue to keep a close watch on Sara until—"
"Jimbo, no one would dare touch the captain's wife," Matthew muttered.
"I wasn't suggesting anyone would," Jimbo countered. "I'm just saying that they could still hurt her feelings. She's a bit tenderhearted."
"Did you know she considers us all part of her staff?" Matthew remarked. He grinned, then stopped himself. "Lady Sara obviously has you in the palm of her hand, if you're so concerned about her feelings." He started to continue on that same topic when the scent of smoke caught his attention. "Am I smelling smoke?" he asked.
Nathan saw the stream of gray smoke seeping up around the edges of the trapdoor before the other two men did. He should have shouted fire to alert the others of the danger. He didn't. He bellowed Sara's name instead. The anguish in his voice was gut-wrenching.
He threw open the hatch. A thick black sheet of smoke billowed up through the opening, blinding the three men. Nathan shouted Sara's name again.
Matthew shouted, "Fire!"
Jimbo went running for the buckets, yelling his own order for seawater on the double, while Matthew tried to keep Nathan from going below by way of the trap.
"You don't know how bad it is," he shouted. "Use the steps, boy, use the—"
Matthew quit his demand when Nathan slipped down through the opening, then turned to run down the steps.
Nathan could barely see inside the cabin, tor the smoke was so thick it blackened his vision. He groped his way over to the bed to find Sara.
She wasn't there. By the time he'd searched the cabin his lungs were burning. He staggered back to the trap again and used the buckets of seawater Jimbo handed down to him to flood the flames out.
The threat was over. The near miss they'd all had made the men shake. Nathan couldn't seem to control his heartbeat. His fear for his wife's safety had all but overwhelmed him. Yet she wasn't even inside the cabin. She hadn't been overcome by smoke. She wasn't dead.
Yet.
Matthew and Jimbo flanked Nathan. All three men stared at the corner of the room to gauge the damage done.
Several of the planks under the potbellied stove had fallen through the floor to the next level. There was now a gaping, glowing hole in the floorboards. Two of the four walls had been licked black all the way to the ceiling by the scorch of the fire.
The damage to the cabin wasn't what held Nathan mesmerized, though. No, his full attention was riveted on the remains of Sara's parasols. The spokes still glowed inside the two remaining metal fittings of the stove.
"Did she think this was a hearth?" Matthew whispered to Jimbo. He rubbed his jaw while he considered that possibility.
"I'm thinking she did," Jimbo answered.
"If she'd been asleep, the smoke would have killed her," Nathan said, his voice raw.
"Now, boy," Jimbo began, certain that the boy was getting himself all worked up, "Sara's all right, and that's what counts. You're sounding as black as the soot on these walls. You've only yourself to blame," he added with a crisp nod.
Nathan gave him a murderous stare. Jimbo wasn't the least intimidated. "I heard Sara call the trap a chimney. Had myself a good laugh over that comment, too. I thought you set her straight."
"I don't suppose he did," Matthew interjected. Nathan wasn't at all calmed by Jimbo's argument. He sounded as if he was close to weeping when he bellowed, "She set my ship on fire."
"She didn't do it on purpose," Matthew defended.
Nathan wasn't listening. "She set my ship on fire," he repeated in a roar.
"We heard you plain the first time, boy," Jimbo interjected. "Now calm yourself and try to reason this little accident through."
"I'm thinking it's going to take him a few more minutes before he can think at all," Matthew said. "The boy always was a hothead, Jimbo. And Sara did set the fire. That's a fact, all right."
The two men turned to leave the cabin. They both thought Nathan needed to be alone for a spell. Nathan's shout stopped them in their tracks. "Bring her to me. Now."
Jimbo motioned for Matthew to stay where he was and then rushed out the doorway. He didn't give Sara any warning of the problem at hand when he found her in Nora's cabin but simply informed her that her husband would like to have a word with her.
Sara hurried back to her cabin. Her eyes widened when she saw all the water on the floor. A loud gasp followed after she noticed the gaping hole in the corner.
"My God, what has happened here?"
Nathan turned to look at her before answering. "Fire."
Understanding came in a flash. "Fire?" she repeated in a hoarse whisper. "Do you mean the fire in the hearth, Nathan?"
He didn't answer her for a long, long minute. Then he slowly walked over to stand directly in front of her. His hands were close enough to grab her by the neck.
He resisted that shameful temptation by clasping his hands behind his back.
She wasn't looking at him. That helped. Her gaze was still fully directed on the damage to the cabin. She worried her lower lip with her teeth, and when she began to tremble Nathan guessed she'd realized exactly what she'd done.
He was wrong. "I never should have left the hearth unattended," she whispered. "Did a spark…"
He shook his head.
She looked into his eyes then. Her fear was obvious.
He immediately lost some of his rage. Damn if he'd have her afraid of him. It was an illogical thought, given the circumstances, yet there it was, nagging him to ease his scowl.
"Sara?" His voice sounded quite mild.
He sounded furious to her. She forced herself to stay where she was, though the urge to back away from him was nearly overpowering. "Yes, Nathan?" she replied, her gaze directed on the floor.
"Look at me."
She looked. He saw the tears in her eyes. The sight tore the rest of his fury right out of him.
His sigh was long, ragged.
"Was there something you wanted to say to me?" she asked when he continued to stare intently at her.
"It isn't a hearth."
Nathan walked out of the cabin. Sara stared after him a long minute before turning around to look at Matthew and Jimbo.
"Did he just say that the hearth isn't a hearth?"
The two men nodded in unison.
Her shoulders slumped. "It looks like a hearth."
"Well, it isn't," Matthew announced. He nudged Jimbo in his side. "You explain it."
Jimbo nodded, then told Sara that the metal parts stacked in the corner of the cabin had been carted back from Nathan's last trip. They were to be used to repair the old stove in the Emerald Shipping Company offices. Nathan had just forgotten to take the parts off the ship when they'd docked, Jimbo continued, though he was certain the captain wouldn't be forgetting next time.
Matthew finished up the explanation by telling Sara that the trap was simply an air duct and nothing more. It wasn't a chimney.
Lady Sara's face looked as red as fire by the time the two men had given her their explanations. She then thanked them for their patience. She felt like an ignorant fool. "I could have killed everyone," she whispered.
"Aye, you could have," Matthew agreed.
She burst into tears. The two men were nearly undone by the emotional show. Jimbo glared at Matthew.
Matthew suddenly felt like a father trying to comfort his daughter. He took Sara into his arms and awkwardly patted her on her back.
"There now, Sara, it's not so bad," Jimbo said, trying to soothe her. "You couldn't have known it wasn't a hearth."
"An idiot would have known," she cried out.
The two men nodded to each other over the top of Sara's head. Then Matthew said, "I might have thought it was a hearth if I…" He couldn't go on because he couldn't think of a plausible lie.
Jimbo came to his aid. "Anyone would have thought it was a hearth if he wasn't used to sailing much."
Nathan stood in the doorway. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jimbo and Matthew, two of the most bloodless pirates he'd ever had the honor to work with, were now acting like nursemaids. He would have laughed if his attention hadn't wandered over to the fire damage just then. He frowned instead.
"When you're through beating bruises in my wife's back, Matthew, you might want to have some of the men clean up this mess."
Nathan turned to Jimbo next. "The planks went through the lower level, too. See to righting the damage, Jimbo. Matthew, if you don't get your hands off my wife, I'll…"
He didn't have to finish that threat. Matthew was halfway out the door by the time Nathan reached Sara. "If anyone is to comfort my wife, it's going to be me."
He jerked Sara into his arms and shoved her face against his chest. Jimbo didn't dare break into a smile until he'd exited the room. He did let out a rich chuckle after he'd closed the door behind him, however.
Nathan continued to hold Sara for a few more minutes. His irritation got the better of him then. "God, wife, aren't you through crying yet?"
She mopped her face on the front of his shirt, then eased away from him. "I do try not to cry, but sometimes I can't seem to help it."
"I've noticed," he remarked.
He dragged her over to the bed, shoved her down, and then felt sufficiently calm to give her a firm lecture on the one overriding fear each and every seaman harbored. Fire. He paced the room, his big hands clasped behind his back, while he gave his speech. He was calm, logical, thorough.
He was shouting at her by the time he'd finished. She didn't dare mention that fact to him, though. The vein in the side of his temple throbbed noticeably, and she concluded her husband wasn't quite over his anger.
She watched him pace and shout and grumble, and in those minutes when he was being his surly self she realized how very much she really loved him. He was trying to be so kind to her. He didn't know he was, of course, but there he stood, blaming himself, Jimbo and Matthew, and even God for bringing on the fire because no one had bothered to explain ship life to her.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him that even though she had always loved him, the feeling had become much more… vivid, much more real. She felt such peace, such contentment. It was as though she'd been on a journey all those years while she waited for him and was home at last.
Nathan drew her attention by demanding she answer him. He had to repeat his question, of course, for she'd been daydreaming and had no idea what he'd asked. He only looked a little irritated by her lack of attention, and Sara guessed he was finally getting used to her. God only knew she was getting used to his flaws. The man was all bluster. Oh, his scowl, when set upon her fully, could still give her the hives, but Nora had been right after all. There really was a good, kind man behind the mask.
Nathan finally finished his lecture. When he asked her she immediately gave him her promise that she wouldn't touch anything else on his ship until they were in port.
Nathan was content. After he left the cabin Sara spent long hours scrubbing the mess. She was exhausted by the time she'd changed the bedding and had her own bath, but she was determined to wait up for her husband. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms.
Sara pulled her sketch pad from the trunk, sat down at the table, and drew a picture of her husband. The paper didn't seem big enough to accommodate his size. She smiled over that fanciful notion. He was just a man. Her man. The likeness was remarkably well done, she thought, though she refused to put a frown on his face. She'd captured his Viking stance, too, with his muscular legs braced apart and his hands settled on his hips. His hair flowed down behind his neck, and she wished she had her colors so she could show the magnificence of his auburn hair and his beautiful green eyes. Perhaps when they reached Nora's home she could buy new supplies so that she could do a proper sketch of her husband.