Uh oh, I'm a baaad little writer for leaving this story unattended for so long. Buuuut, all is not lost and I opt for rehabilitation with a new chapter!

Rhea

James:

"Mommy! Mommy, are coconut palms alive?"

"I believe so," Rhea answers a hundredth question of the morning kindly as she smoothes her son's hair. "They cannot walk like us and they do not speak, but just like people they grow up big from little. They need sun and water to grow as do we. So, they are very much the living things."

Perched on a fallen tree, the six year old listens to the explanation, dangling his feet and drawing conclusions from conversations he had shared with peers as well as from overhearing adults when they didn't know he had been listening.

"Does this mean they get married?" he asks, proud of his discovery.

"Who?"

"The coconuts! Jeremy said they're part of the palm family."

I swallow a chuckle, feeling it would be inappropriate to take light when the boy is so serious. He is turning a coconut found on the beach this way and that, which became a new source of inquiry.

"Palm is a type of tree. The coconuts are the things that grow on some palm trees," Rhea explains. "There are many different kinds of palm trees. Some have coconuts growing on them and some don't. All of these different palm trees are part of the family. The ones that have coconuts growing on them are called coconut palms."

"Oh," he says no longer listening, very much occupied by a butterfly landing on a flower.

Taking Josh on a date with us hadn't been planned. It was best to avoid confusing Rhea's children by introducing a stranger to them until the boundaries of our relationship were better defined. However, Josh decided whom he wanted to meet without the adults. Beaming a warm smile, Rhea explained that her nanny has been spreading some mythical stories about my bravery and uncanny ability to send a legion of pirates running to lock themselves in jail with one glare. Under superfluous influence of these fairy tales, the boy, so Rhea claimed, wouldn't have given her peace for months to come had she gone on a date with the Admiral without him. I wondered how it was possible to give into demands of such a small creature until the creature overcame his shyness within the first hour and commanded everything around him.

Rhea is a wonderful mother. Observing her care for Josh brings about a warm feeling and desire to hold them close, protecting from anything that may upset that loving bond. At the same time, I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of how much I must learn about children, especially should I enter a family with three of them. I wonder what Rhea thinks about my clumsy interaction with her son. Being a wise woman, she will entrust her family only to a good father.

Feeling that I'm thinking about her, she turns to me, spotting a slight imperfection and delicately adjusts my necktie disarranged by the wind. The action comes naturally like she's doing it for her children. In her company even the afternoon sun feels mild. I don't allow her hand to retreat and take it into mine.

The soft breeze is relaxing. I've done well to isolate this date from Theodore's prying. The boat has taken us across the horseshoe bay to a nearby beach, travelling to which by shore would take half a day. The sailors are to return in two hours.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she smiles. "A relaxing stroll by the sea is a rare luxury lately. Not that I'd trade my cares for the world."

I follow her gaze as it consciously returns to her son or at least to the spot where he used to be a heartbeat ago.

"Josh?" She looks around quicker than I can search the area. "Josh, please come to me. This is not a good place to play hide and seek."

"This way," I point at the small footprints in the sand, swallowing a comment that on the contrary this is an excellent place to hide as the short trail leads to a dense patch of greenery where my left hand cannot distinguish the right one. Rhea's pace is slowed as her dress gets assaulted by entangling obstacles.

"We will find him quicker by splitting up," she offers, knowing that I'd be reluctant to leave her. As much as her safety is also my concern, Josh is most important.

"Don't worry." A thin thread of propriety prevents me from imposing a reassuring hug. "I will find your son. No harm will come to the boy."

Unlike a troubled mother, I move silently, relying on ruffled leaves or a spooked bird to give away the boy rather than on his judgement to reply voluntarily. I am not entirely at the mercy of the savage plants. Military career in the Caribbean is not anew charges me with the responsibility of tracking down somebody in less than habitable places. It's the last thought that no one should be around that alerts me to the voices ahead.

The greenery separates abruptly like a door flung wide open to the sea. I must have waked through the narrow jungle streak to the other side of the cape that faces away from Port Royal. Fortunately, my sudden appearance goes unnoticed by two furiously arguing men whose roguish looks are to be judged untrustworthy regardless, had an undeniable proof that they were trouble not been tied up at their feet. I'm grateful his mother does not see her son kidnapped by two ruffians. Even my resolve is tested upon hearing them discuss the boy's life so crassly.

"You imbecile! Children don't wonder alone! Someone will come looking for him!"

"He saw the crates! He was going to tell! What would you have done?"

"Returned him without a fuss! Grateful parents don't suspect an ill play from anyone who helps them find their brats! Now, we got to dirty our hands to shut them all up somehow thanks to you!"

The threat is enough. I take them by surprise, with great satisfaction smashing the hilt of my sword into the back of the head of a man nearest to me. The other reacts by throwing a punch, neglecting to draw a weapon. I dodge and land a punch strong enough to knock the bandit into the sand where the tip of my blade finds his neck. My tone is just as sharp.

"Who are you?"

The man spits out a clot of blood. He eyes me with more hatred than fear. Prompt realisation why is still too late to fix my error. There is a third bandit in possession of a firearm, which he doesn't hesitate to point at Josh.

"That, filthy mongrel, is the question you'll be answering," he announces. "Right after you drop your sword."

I comply in consideration for the boy. As expected, my adversary is up at once eager for revenge. I do not avoid his blow and stagger into the sand as he had. "Please, I'm just a tutor working for Captain Johnson!" Feigning a greater injury, I cover my face. The man holding a musket had been seen around the docks as of late. During the brief fight he hardly had the opportunity to recognise me, but once I surrendered he studies me shrewdly. "I teach the boy fencing and riding."

Several months in the company of pirates and less than honest East Trading Company representatives must have left a long-lasting influence because the lie appears to be satisfactory.

"Couldn't you teach him elsewhere?" the bandit grumbles, fingering a rapidly swelling lip that tempts him to kick me for a good measure.

"My sound preference is to keep him close to home. The boy kept nagging and nagging to go somewhere after his father left on patrol. I thought I'd take him to a place near the port where he can pretend all he wants that he's having an adventure, so he'd stop bothering me. Unfortunately, he got away when we came here."

Another insult is thwarted as the armed man, I mark as the leader, suggests that their moaning accomplice who is regaining consciousness must be tended to.

"That's an expensive sword for a tutor," he notes, taking over the interrogation.

"It belongs to the captain. I use it sometimes when he's not looking."

An ill act makes an impression on him that it's a story to trust. "Lets pretend we believe you," he allows, though he's beaten companions seem in favour of shooting us. "What are we suppose to do with you?"

"It's not a kingly amount, yet I can pay you to let us go." The offer has to be tempting. Not that these men would hesitate to protect their interests, but they are low life thieves, not murderers. "The boy will not be a problem. I'm the only one who listens to him, but should he mention anything about your activities, I'll say we've encountered fishermen. The rest will be attributed to his imagination."

"How do we know you won't seek military on us instead of payment?"

"The captain will find out that I've endangered his son should the military get involved. I'll lose my job."

"Do you always have a perfect answer prepared?"

"Just let him pay up and shut up," his companion interrupts a lot less in favour of shooting once the coin is mentioned.

"I told YOU to shut up!" the leader snaps.

I discretely observe the jungle as they argue. The sailors should have returned for us by now with Groves leading them. Rhea is safe with them. It's only a question how long they will need to find this spot.

"The two of us will take them to town to receive our pay. Carl stays behind to guard the crates," the leader sums up the argument. His companion grumbles that he can accompany me without help, which earns him a poisonous comment how miserably he lost earlier confrontation. The leader observed me as soon as I made the mistake of abandoning the greenery cover and formed great suspicions upon seeing me act. A lucky coincidence that I've made up a profession linked to fencing saved us.

"We'll know where you live and come looking for you if you decide to tell on us after the exchange," he threatens, never lowering his weapon as his companion picks up another musket from one of the crates.

"I want to live and forget about this," I assure him. "Can I take the boy?"

Reinforced by a grudging nod, I kneel before Josh and whisper a request to remain silent as I remove the gag. The bandits don't give me the luxury of untying him.

"Just take him and start walking to your boat," the leader growls.

I follow his command, holding the boy firmly against my chest. I have what I wanted. The line of greenery grows closer. The startling effect of someone just a step ahead vanishing in it is fresh in my mind. Josh is perfectly still. Child's intuition prompts him to do nothing that would distract me. It helps that the pair is walking behind us. I swiftly disappear from sight pursued by a colourful profanity, but hurling words is all they manage. Despite having hoped for it, I'm startled when four armed men surround us and disarm the pair before the curse is complete.

"Temper please! We don't want children to hear bad words," a familiar voice announces gleefully.

"They're weapon smugglers," I inform my first officer. "There's one more on the beach nursing a headache in the company of very incriminating crates."

Groves takes the hint and disappears with one of the sailors to arrest the culprit. I trust him to make proper arrangements to transport the prisoners to jail and depart swiftly to return Josh to his mother who was left in the boat to wait for our return. There's much to explain.

"Don't feel guilty," she tells me once she checks every inch of her son. The child is much subdued, which is worrisome. To which she smiles and cradles him on her lap with a brief explanation that he's tired rather than afraid.

"Wasn't scared," Josh mumbles half-asleep as we head back to town. He looks at me so expectantly that I quickly confirm how admirably he behaved before the dreams claim him.

Rhea trusts me to pick him up as we leave the boat. I carry him to the waiting carriage. I have completely forgotten about the rose. Ignoring the expectation that Rhea was to depart without me, I claim a seat beside her.

"He'll be walking around all week describing how you've defeated all enemies," she speaks quietly. Josh is curled up on her lap and her hand rests protectively on his head. "You've made an unforgettable impression on my son."

"As much as he made one on me. As has his mother."

"Nonetheless, the rose will remain with you today."

"Yes."

I question whether I'll be able to fit in with her family, whether what I have to offer will be enough. Another woman would have pushed for connection because a marriage would remove many burdens from her while keeping her assured that her family will be provided for. While it's in her power to ring anyone, Rhea needs someone fifteen years older, someone rooted to land rather than prone to travelling across the seas.

"You doubt your ability to relate to children," she interprets all my thoughts correctly. "I've seen enough of your interaction with my son today to be confident that you will make a good father, just not for my family, not yet. You must grow into the role slowly with your own children."

"Allow me," I ask for permission, opening my hand. As she places hers on top, I kiss her hand with the greatest respect. "Please promise you will not hesitate to contact me should anyone ever poses a threat or a problem for you."

Rhea's smile is warm and her eyes are gentle. "I promise. God Bless You."