The Huntress ✓

38. The End, Again

The next day dawned with new promise.

Bronte, Sam, and Lucien rode out to the Huntress, anxious to reclaim her.

As they rowed to the ship, they passed several dripping guards hastily rowing for shore. When they stepped onboard, they were surprised to see most of the old crew smiling back at them.

Cuthbert stood in the forefront and explained. "We tooked back yer ship for ya, Cap'n."

"What?" Bronte asked incredulously.

"We sneaked aboard and threw the guards overboard ... only then we felt bad so we sent down a boat for 'em."

She could see Sam chuckling out of the corner of her eye. "You dolt! The ship was already ours!" Bronte scolded. She'd never let them know how much the action meant to her.

"Oh." Cuthbert scratched his head in confusion.

Bronte narrowed her eyes as she scanned the crew, waiting for the outlash. "You men willing to sail under a female captain?"

Various members shrugged and nodded, some spoke affirmations. Black, standing in the shadows, smiled.

Kinney said directly, "Ain't no captain ever got as much riches for a crew as you!"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. They didn't mind her being a woman at all. "But, Cuthbert? It's not bad luck to sail under a woman?" she asked him doubtfully.

He scratched his head. "Would be if this were a fishin' boat." Then his face lit up and he held a finger aloft as he turned to the others. "That's why I could never catch no fish! It weren't my fault at all!"

Sam laughed and Bronte stared, pleasantly amazed. Lucien looked confused.

"From now on, I'll be known as Captain Bronteandra Farrow." Bronte glanced at Lucien and was pleased to see him smile and nod his approval.

The crew toasted their 'new' captain heartily and often as the day went on. Soon they decided to take the celebration ashore. Bronte stayed aboard, unwilling to chance the trouble it would make for Lucien if she were recognized. Lucien stayed with her and at sunset, they stood at the prow of the anchored sloop.

Lucien had been preparing himself to say goodbye all day and knew time was running short. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though he knew it wasn't God's will he be involved with an unbeliever, he wanted her so badly. Standing beside her, alone, was only making it harder. At last, his anxiety became unbearable and he steeled himself for what he must do.

He turned toward her and cleared his throat. As he opened his mouth to speak his courage failed him. "What are you thinking of?" he asked instead.

Bronte, without turning her gaze from the sunset, sighed. "When I was dueling that Frenchman, I wanted to kill him. Badly. But I couldn't. I've never felt like that during a fight before."

Lucien studied her face as the sun threw warm pastels over it. "Felt like what?"

"Well, like it wasn't my place to decide when he died. Like maybe God had something different in mind. But then, he died anyway."

"Perhaps it wasn't for the Frenchman's sake your hand was stayed. Perhaps it was for your own."

Bronte turned to face him. "Earlier, there was this voice, almost like it was in my head, but not. It told me I should be merciful."

Lucien narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. "A voice? Like 'the voice of God' kind of voice?"

Bronte shrugged and leaned against the rail. "I suppose."

Lucien leaned in toward her. "Bronteandra, is there something you're not telling me?"

Bronte pulled her chin to her chest. "Aye. There's something. Something happened to me in prison. I—I understood what you were trying to tell me before. About His love and Him wanting me for His own."

"Are you telling me you've given your life to the Lord?" Lucien's voice was strained. "Why didn't you tell me? Do you know how I've been agonizing these last weeks?"

"Hold up! There's no need to shout!" Bronte said defensively.

Lucien combed his hands through his hair. "I've spent hours trying to figure out how I could ever say goodbye to you! At some point, you need to realize that these secrets you keep don't just affect you! They affect the lives of everyone who loves you!"

Bronte was beginning to get angry at the way he was carrying on. "I wasn't keeping it a secret! And besides I—did you say love?"

Lucien, who'd lifted his face toward the sky as if asking for heavenly intervention suddenly dropped his eyes to her face, taking note of her perplexed expression. "Didn't you guess? Don't you know? Bronteandra, rascally pirate and rogue that you are! I love you!" Lucien reached his hand toward her.

Bronte took a step back, unwilling to believe he meant what he said. "How could I know? Didn't you say a moment ago you wanted to say goodbye?"

Lucien shook his head repeatedly as he answered. "No, I never wanted to. I—Bronteandra, do you ... do you love me?"

Bronte stared back, her expression frozen. She almost looked afraid.

He cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her stormy eyes. He could see the truth. "Bronteandra," Lucien cradled her face, rubbing her cheeks gently with his thumbs, "I don't think I've ever wanted anything so such in my life. Would you be my wife?"

Bronte stood silently as she heard the words—heard them, but wasn't sure she could accept them. She never thought—never hoped—she'd ever hear them. So much had changed. Could she marry this man? She searched his face. She tried to think of some reason to say no. But she didn't want to say no. This man knew her before she'd known herself, and he loved her—knowing who she was—who she'd been.

She put her hands over his and pulled them down. Lucien suddenly looked doubtful. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bronte didn't want to hear anything he had to say. She pressed her body against his, pulled his face close, and kissed him. A kiss of fiery passion that gave him the answer he'd been looking for.

The sun set the sky ablaze, the vibrant oranges and reds creating the illusion of fire on the rolling waves.

At last they broke apart and as they looked into each other's eyes they both thought—not of sunsets—but of sunrises, and what the new dawn would reveal; what new adventures lie waiting for the morrow.

Adventures they'd face together.