*HELLO! Another short one. The next will not be, so keep your knickers on. But I have a question for my darling dearling readers: What do you think of this character? Reactions, please! I love you all. Thank you for reading. *
It was young Jimmy Christianson that woke Beth in the morning. His sun freckled face was etched with gentle concern. With worry in his brown eyes he turned the key to her cell door and spoke in a quiet voice.
"Captain?"
Beth opened her eyes, red and swollen from crying and slowly turned. She smiled softly at him and slowly rose to her feet. "You shouldn't call me that, you know."
He ducked his head, nodding slowly. Beth's brow furrowed and she stood up a little straighter, dusting off her trousers. Her voice was stern. "Don't you pity me, Christian. You know full well I can handle myself."
He took a step forward, reaching for her. "Then why don't you? The men all wait on your word, why will you not give it?" He ducked his head again, belatedly with an apologetic look. There was a subtle defiance in his voice, however, as he added "Captain."
"The word will never come. I am not the mutinous sort, Christain." Her look softened and she took his face in her hands, lifting his gaze to her own. "Have I ever led you astray? Any of you?" Jimmy eyes faltered guiltily at that, but before he could speak, she smiled and continued. "I have my reasons for surrendering the ship. You'll just have to trust me. All of you will have to trust me. Like you once did."
At that, Jimmy smiled. It was contagious. He and Beth stood there, grinning at one another as the sunlight streamed through the hatch above and shone off their equally golden hair. When the moment stretched a little too long, there was a loud wooden thud from somewhere overhead and Beth looked up.
"It looks like a beautiful day, Christian. Would you care to take me to it?"
He smiled and took her arm, leading her gently past the iron bars, up the steps, and into the blinding sunlight. Her grin widened as the smell of fresh salt and the raucous crash of the waves on the prow nearly drowned out the hearty voices of her men as they hollered at each other from across the deck. For they were her men. She could see that now, in each pair of worried eyes as they met hers as she took a step out onto the deck. Her heart, which had seemed to be missing since she first opened her eyes this morning, warmed a little at the way they surreptitiously glanced at one another, careful not to look too sentimental.
The Quartermaster, Peter Whitley, caught her shoulder, an apology in his eyes, and she smiled at him. The big man smiled sheepishly back and mumbled a quiet "Good morning". She cut him off with a tilt of the head before he could call her "Captain". "Remember what Jack said. You must call me Beth now." The men closest to her scowled, and she gave them all a stern look. A few looked away.
Her stomach growled and she looked down at it in surprise. The dull ache in her chest had for the most numbed the hunger clawing at her belly. Now she folded her arms across the offending organ and blushed, authority undermined by her own willful anatomy. Jimmy's voice was soft at her back.
"Captain's ordered a hold on your rations."
An ice cold fist wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed. Beth shrank visibly, shoulders slumping in a sad mimicry of the stooped figure of the night before. Her eyes flickered about the deck, finding no trace of the Captain. Her gaze drifted aftward, towards his cabin. There her eyes lingered, as she found herself wondering if he slept. Likely passed out in a drunken stupor.
Her eyes prickled with tears she told herself weren't there. Jimmy's hand fell gently on her shoulder, turning her away. There was concern in his warm brown eyes. And confusion. She drew herself up, smiled comfortingly at him, then grinned at her crew.
"Nevermind if he holds my rations for a month! I'll wager I can haul more line than any of you lot, even with an empty belly."
