Usual disclaimers... but I want him!
This is the last chapter.
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Chapter 65 – Seven Years Later
Jack walked slowly up the hill to his home, glad that he was back in Tortuga. He had missed the place and most of all he had missed his family. It had been a long two months at sea - the Black Pearl needed repairs and he had a number of crew that needed Bessie's gentle care before they would be able to sail again. He was grateful for the crew quarters in the house, allowing his men to watch over his family without too much intrusion as well as giving them a shore-based home for those that were injured. Bessie and the children were never unguarded not even here.
"Papa!" A small seven year old blonde missile launched itself at him from across the street, Jem Harvey hobbling behind as he tried to keep up. Jack beamed.
"Pearl m' luv! What a greeting!" He scooped her in his arms noting her dress was rather muddy as he nodded to Jem. He had not been able to sail since his knee had taken a shot, but had gratefully accepted the duty of watching the house. "Where's yer mother?" Jack asked, turning back to his daughter.
"Mother's baking biscuits!" Pearl confided. "She knew you would be home!"
"Well I guess we'd better go an' see if they're done'." Jack suggested.
"That's if Jack hasn't eaten them already!" she pouted.
Jack smiled. His first-born son was a constant thorn in his sister's side and even at six years old seemed determined to live up to his infamous name of Jack Sparrow. "I'm sure he's missed a few..." Jack teased, putting her down on the step as he reached the house. He opened the stout door and walked in, smiling as he heard Bessie singing quietly to herself in the kitchen. He walked through silently, wrapping his arms about her as Pearl went into the garden.
"I've been expecting you," Bessie smiled, turning to face him. Jack grinned, his braids tickling her as he kissed her, pulling her towards him. He looked down, grinning at the faint curve of her stomach. "How far?" he asked, having not realised she was pregnant again when he had left. He may have gained a few grey hairs and his step might not be quite as sprightly, but he still could do what counted.
"At a guess... three months!" she sighed, automatically slapping Jack's young hand as he reached for a biscuit, thinking her distracted with his father.
"Where's th' rest of th' brood?" Jack asked, wondering why the house was unusually quiet.
"Most are in the garden," Bessie smiled. "I told them you had buried a chest of treasure down near the steps..."
"In the vegetable plot?" Jack frowned.
"Well, I needed the soil turned..." she shrugged, taking his hand and snaring the younger Jack with the other. Jack snatched a biscuit before she forced the two of them from the kitchen, sharing it with his son. "So you can go and be Captain whilst I prepare dinner!"
Jack walked into the garden, dropping her hand as a chorus of "Papa" greeted his arrival. He now saw why Pearl had been so dirty – three of his six children were up to their waists in a hole, still digging and dirt was flying everywhere. He presumed that his youngest two, Tabitha aged two and baby Frances were sleeping. He laughed at the muddy children, wincing as all but Pearl dashed towards him. Giggling, she decided to join her brothers and sisters as he disappeared under a pile of children – Pearl, Jack' twin sister Henrietta who was known as Hetty, and four year oldJohn. "Hold!" he shouted, shrugging them off as he removed his sword belt and pistol, handing them to Pearl. "Take these t' yer mother," he ordered, watching as she carefully carried the weapons towards the house. As soon as she had gone the other children jumped on him again and he fell to the ground, groaning in mock agony.
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Bessie took the weapons from Pearl, smiling as her eldest child ran back to the garden to attack her father. She sighed, reflecting for a moment how her life had changed since Jack had burst into it. On the whole, it had been a good life, if you discounted Archibald Hughes, her time in Port Royal and the loss of one of their babies in childbirth, Robert, who would have been three only a few days before. She put her hand to her stomach, praying that this child would be as blessed with health as the surviving six were.
She was happy here, more than she had thought she could have been. Constance had helped with her garden and now even Giselle and some of the other women would visit to share gossip over a cup of tea when they were not working. Jack had left her enough money so that if ever the worst did happen she would not be destitute, nor forced to remarry in order to feed the children, but she knew though that she would never remarry. How could any man compare to her husband? Finishing the last of the vegetables she wiped her hands and walked out into the garden, sitting in the shade of the large old tree.
She picked up the book that she had been reading. Jack had found her a copy of Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales and she was slowly working her way through it. There were still some words that she could not read, but they were getting fewer and fewer as she read further. She marvelled at his description the English countryside, never having been outside of the Caribbean her entire life, wondering what an oak tree looked like. She would ask Jack later.
She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment as she listened to him playing with the children. It was a good life.
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The End!
Or is it?
I have a follow-up to this half-typed... if anybody is interested. The reactions I get will decide whether or not I post it... so you have been warned.
Reviews girls?