The look he gave her was one that clearly told her his thoughts.
No. In principle, the enemy was not out to commit murder.
But this was war.
And tempers flared and shots fired easily….
“Men die in the camps,” Richard said flatly.
“And men live in the camps!” Tara insisted.
“You should get out of here, now,” he told her.
“No.”
“You’re stubborn!”
“I know my own resources.” It was difficult to see the Union ship, but she could make out its ominous silhouette.
“Take the helm!” Richard told her.
She did, and he reached for his spyglass, looking over at the enemy ship.
“He should be over the reef any minute … grounding, I pray….” And then he swore, quickly looking at her apologetically. “He rounded it. He knows the game I’m playing.”
“You’ll outrun him,” Tara said with confidence—far more confidence than she was feeling. Few people knew these waters like a native son.
Save another native son.
“I’m heading for the channel. Maybe there …” Richard said.
“You will outrun him,” she repeated staunchly.
But the echo of her words had barely died when the sound of a cannon boom burst through the night.
The ball fell short of its target, causing the water in their wake to burst from the sea like a geyser.
“That was too close,” Richard murmured.
“Damned close!” Lawrence said.
“Aye, Grant. You and Lawrence, man the rear cannon!” Richard commanded. “Quickly. We must pray for a strike and hobble here on the reef!”
His men scurried to do as bidden. Before they could reach their posts belowdeck, a second volley came their way, closer this time. The Peace shook in the water, the waves rose and Tara quickly grabbed hold of the mast to keep her feet.
“Tara, do something to save yourself!” Richard said firmly.
“No! I’m not leaving you!”
Richard stared at her in frustration and yelled out to his men below. “Fire!”
A second later, their cannon fire boomed.
Tara stared out at the enemy ship, relieved to see a small burst of fire explode near her aft section.
“Direct hit, first volley!” she said.
Richard had his spyglass on the ship.
“She’s lamed, she isn’t dead,” he said flatly.
As he spoke, another volley exploded from the enemy ship.
“Hold on!” Richard roared to her, bracing himself.
The water exploded to their front aft side. A miss, though the Peace rocked precariously.
Tara held tight to the mast, weighing the possible consequences of the battle. It might be time for them to abandon ship, and use Richard’s knowledge of the islands and the water to survive. “Where are we?” she asked him quickly.
“Near the mainland,” he told her. “Just a few islands southwest of the mainland. And it’s time for you to go. Head northeast—”
“I will not leave you. You’re—well, you’ve a safety net in me, if we’re together. We’ll head northeast. By ship, or by foot. They will flounder in the channel—they’re floundering now! I’m not leaving you, so please don’t waste your time trying to get me to do so.”
He stared at her with exasperation. But even as he did so, he bellowed to his men below.
“Fire!”
THE UNION SHIP WAS ROCKING like a cradle in the water, ablaze in the aft section, and Tremblay was shouting orders to his men.
Finn balanced easily enough, watching as men hurried about, stumbling here and there, and turning a slight shade of green at the pitch and heave of the ship.
Tremblay was a seasoned captain. He held his sea legs steady, moving with the motion of the ship, a pitch and roll he probably knew far too well.
“Gunners!” he shouted out, his voice calm and powerful. “Stay your posts! Seamen, douse that fire! See if we’re taking on water!”
Tremblay swore beneath his breath. “She hit us! The lucky Reb actually hit us…. Keep us steady men! We’ll come apart on the reef! Gunners, fire! Take to the cannons, boy, and give her a long volley, one after the other, all ablaze!”
Finn turned to him. “Captain, we don’t want all aboard killed.”
“We’ll man the boats, and bring them in. We must stop her—before she stops us.” He stared at Finn. “We may be floundering already. If she scrapes coral now …”
“Demand her surrender,” Finn urged.
“Her surrender? We’ve been hit!” Tremblay said.
“Aye, but she is listing worse. Demand her surrender,” Finn insisted. “She can’t know that we’re taking on water just as badly.”
“Hold fire!” Tremblay called.
His order came just as someone fired a gun prematurely.
THE NIGHT WAS SPLIT again with a great boom of sound, and the earth itself seemed to tremble.
That time, the thunder in the air was followed by a shuddering explosion; they’d been hit again, and hard. The repercussion swept Tara off her feet. She fell and discovered that she was lying under Richard. She quickly eased from beneath and rose above him, touching his face. “Richard, Richard …”
He opened his eyes slowly, and then blinked rapidly. “We’ve been hit … we’ve been hit a death blow…. Take the helm and try to steady her until we can abandon ship. I’ve got to get below … to the others …”
“Richard, it’s burning. It’s—it’s too late!”
“Have to … have to get down there … My men …”
He staggered to his feet; she feared he wouldn’t make it to the deck below, but there would be no stopping him.
The night that had been so pleasantly dark and quiet was now ominous in its silence between small bursts of fire that ignited about the ship. Black smoke was heavy on the air.
“Richard, please,” she said softly.
He grabbed her by the shoulders; his eyes seemed almost blank. He was shell-shocked, she knew, but she couldn’t stop him.
“I have to see,” he said thickly. “You know I have to see … Someone could be … injured.”
No. She wished that it was true, but no one could have survived that explosion.
He thrust himself from her, heading for the steps below.
Tara staggered back and grabbed the wildly jerking wheel, using all her strength to steady the ship, trying to keep her limping forward. But another volley followed, and another. It was all she could do, just to hold tight.
Richard burst out from the deck below, his face covered in soot, his features twisted in a grim mask.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her around to face him. “They’re dead … the men are