Northern Star

Chapter 30

Hunter worked hour after hour with his men to keep the ship afloat. The storm gradually wore itself out and the ocean settled into a fitful sleep. As he relaxed at the wheel, the first ribbons of light whispered dawn on the horizon. The men slowly crawled off in exhaustion, leaving Hunter and Cap alone on deck.

"The storm seems to have blown us in the right direction," the captain said between puffs of his pipe. "We weathered her without much damage."

Hunter was impatient to return to Perry, now that the storm didn't demand his full attention. As he watched the old seaman he knew the storm had taken its toll on the man. Cap would have retired years ago, but he couldn't leave the sea he loved. He'd contributed his share during the storm, but now his energy was spent.

"Why don't you go get a few hours sleep, Cap," Hunter ordered. "I'll sail her for a while."

The captain moved away and Hunter smiled to himself. He'd give Perry a few hours more sleep before awakening her. All night, even in the midst of fighting the storm, she'd never been far from his thoughts. He could almost feel her body now. He remembered her soft full breast in his hand and the way she'd grabbed his head, forcing his kiss down to her. He'd never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. Women had always been an extra in his life. After his mother died and he'd seen what love had done to his father, he made up his mind never to be bothered by such feelings.

He kept telling himself he was infatuated with Perry. She was so small, like a fragile china doll. Yet the fire within her surprised him. He'd have to handle her with care, but handle her he would. What did Abram's and Molly's warnings matter once she was in his arms? She responded with zeal to his every move, with a fire equal to his own. They were both two starving peasants at a banquet. Today they would have their fill of one another.

The two hours passed slowly as Hunter thought of the lady who waited below. He almost bolted and ran from the wheel when Cap appeared to relieve him, not even noticing the captain's smile as he dropped below deck.

A moment later Hunter turned the door handle to Perry's room. He'd hoped to find her still asleep so he could study her beauty in the morning light. To his surprise her bed was neatly made and she was nowhere in sight. He stepped across the hall, thinking she must have spent the night in his bed. But again, to his disappointment, there was no one in the cabin.

Hunter moved rapidly down the small corridor to the galley and dining area, impatience showing in his stride. He stepped into the small dining room and in frustration snapped, "Perry!"

"Yes?" Her musical voice drifted from the galley as she stepped to the door. Her blue dress was almost completely covered with a large cook's apron. Her hair was pulled neatly to the back of her neck by a long blue ribbon. She held both flour-covered hands palms up in the air as she looked at him.

"Hunter," she answered in a low voice, "sit down and I'll finish cooking your breakfast. It seems the cook needs sleep, so I volunteered to make breakfast for anyone awake."

Hunter sat down at the end of the long table. Food was not foremost in his mind, hut he was polite. Through the open galley door he watched her as she moved skillfully around the kitchen. He could smell the hot biscuits and ham she was cooking. Five minutes passed before she set a plate of food in front of him. The appetizing aroma surrounded him, and Hunter suddenly realized how hungry he was after a hard night's work.

When she handed him a cup of coffee, their fingers touched and he smiled up at her. Without responding, she moved to the other end of the table and sat silently, drinking her own coffee. She'd spent most of the night thinking of what she would say, but now, as she watched his gray eyes caressing her, she was speechless. His hair was windblown and half covered his forehead. He looked younger, and his smile came quickly and easily as he glanced up at her between bites.

She felt herself tearing apart at the seams. Half of her demanded she stand by her principles. She had little left but her standards, and if she cast them away, her pride in herself would be tarnished. Yet watching him, she so wanted to close the distance between them. Even in the morning light she could still feel his warm hands moving slowly over her. But she must have his love, not just his loving. For without love their physical union would be cheapened.

Hunter pushed his empty plate aside and lifted his coffee mug. "That was a very fine breakfast." He smiled, willing to play her game for a time. After all, they had all day.

"Thank you," Perry whispered as she stood and removed her apron. She folded it neatly and began her planned speech. "About last night…"

If Hunter had known more about women, he might have hesitated instead of rushing in. "Perry, come here," he demanded in a low voice seasoned with passion. "Come closer." He pushed away from the table and opened his arms, indicating she should sit on his lap. He'd waited long enough for her to be near him. Whatever she had to say could be said as he held her close.

Anger fired within her. He was ordering her around as if she were a child. He wasn't asking but telling. Every fiber within her rebelled. Why was it men always treated women as children, to be coaxed and pampered?

Perry stood her ground. "About last night…" she tried again as he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I realize there were many factors contributing to what happened. The storm, my fright, your anger." She hesitated. She must finish what she had to say without looking into his eyes. "I want you to know I don't hold you entirely responsible. However, today is another day, and we can start again as if last night never happened."

The front two legs of Hunter's chair fell to the floor with a thud as he stood. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Perry?" He moved toward her. "Are you saying you wish to forget what we both felt last night?" If he could but touch her, he'd make her little speech worthless.

Stepping around the table, Perry widened the distance between them. "Last night never happened, Hunter. I hold you to your word as a gentleman." She lifted her chin in pride and stubbornness.

"Damn the promise!" he shouted as he shoved a chair out of his path. "I want you." Passion filled his voice. "And you want me!"

Perry's eyes widened at his frankness, and she could find no way to deny his statement. Yet anger flared once again. He spoke not of love but of need. "You said you'd not touch me until I came to you. And need or no need, Hunter Kirkland, I'll not come to you." Her hands balled into fists at her side as she backed away, keeping the table between them.

He moved closer. "Perry, you couldn't have been so warm in my arms a few hours ago and now be made of stone. I-"

Shaking her head, she cried, "I'll not listen to you!"

"If I can touch you," Hunter answered, "you'll hear me.

Perry matched his every advance with retreating steps. They moved as fixtures on a merry-go-round with the table always between them.

"You'll understand my promise was folly when…" He couldn't believe she was shattering his dream.

"Need I carry my pistol to keep you away? For I assure you, I'll not hesitate." Anger flashed in her eyes. "Are you so like your cousin that I must fight or bend to your will?"

Straightening, he backed away. Perry's comparison of him to Wade stung like a slap. He pushed his eyebrows together and studied her. "I'm not like Wade." His voice was cold and firm. "You wound me, madam, even to make the comparison. You shall have your wish. Last night never happened, and I'll make no advance toward you." He stared at her with icy, pain-filled eyes. "You've no need to carry a weapon. Your demands injure me far more than a bullet."

Hunter opened the door. "If you will excuse me, I must get a few hours sleep. I find my dreams much less painful than present company. Good day."

With a slam of the door he was gone, and Perry was alone. She'd won, yet where was the victory? She'd talked him into making no more advances toward her. She'd erased his smiling, confident manner to watch a cold, controlled mask return. Perry slammed her fist on the table in anger. "Why do I have to love such a man?" she whispered. "Why couldn't he just once speak of love and not of need?" She had to be more than just a woman he bedded. She'd settle for nothing less than being the one he loved.

Perry wiped tears from her flushed cheeks. Let him sleep, she would busy herself in the small kitchen. She might know little about sailing, but she did know how to cook. Attacking her job with an energy born of frustration, she stayed in the galley all morning. She was relieved when the cook finally awoke to serve a late lunch that she'd prepared for the crew. As the men gathered around the table she wandered above deck for some fresh air. The morning's work had dulled her anger.

A cool breeze greeted her as she opened the hatch. She welcomed the fresh air to clear her thoughts. Casting her gaze around, she met a sky that mirrored her mood. The clouds hung low as rumors of rain whispered in the wind. She climbed up to the open deck where the captain stood idly smoking his pipe. He smiled a greeting before continuing his study of the sky.

"Are we in for more storms?" Perry asked in an effort to make conversation.

"Appears we might be. But I'm figuring by the way those clouds are moving over yonder"-he pointed with his pipe-"that we are just skirtin' the storm. If we're lucky, a little rain is all we'll have to worry about."

The captain reminded Perry of a piece of driftwood. He was weathered and wrinkled beyond his age, yet there was a solidness about him. He stood watching her with wise old eyes, as though he were reading her as he did the weather.

Perry blushed slightly under his stare but welcomed his company. "Do you and Hunter sail often?" she asked.

"He has another ship-a fine, big lady. We've sailed on her many times but not lately." The old seaman wasn't accustomed to idle conversation. He'd spent a lifetime at sea and felt ill at ease around womenfolk.

She liked the old man and felt a need to be honest. "I'm not Hunter's cousin," she stated, wondering what he would think of her.

"I know," he commented without hesitation.

"Did Hunter tell you?" Perry asked, wondering.

"Didn't have to." The captain smiled. "No man looks at his relative like he looks at you." Perry's cheeks burned as he continued. "This is a small ship, and when voices are raised, everyone on board hears."

Perry lowered her head to stare at the sea. "Thank you for the warning, Captain," she whispered.

"What warning?" Hunter's voice sounded from behind her.

Perry turned in surprise as he stepped onto the small deck to join them. Though he was smiling, there was a tiredness in his eyes. She wondered if he'd slept at all this morning. He had changed into a clean white shirt and dark brown slacks, but he hadn't bothered to shave. His whiskers formed a light brown covering over his strong jaw.

Since Perry seemed deaf to Hunter's question, the captain stated, "We been talkin' of ships and weather." He dumped his cold pipe ashes out, tossing them to the wind. "I think I'll go have a bite while you're up top." He nodded to Hunter and moved away.

Perry and Hunter stood for several minutes, as if they were frozen statues. He watched the wind whip at her hair. He'd spent the morning thinking, finally deciding that the pain of being with her was no greater than the pain of not seeing her. Now, as he watched her standing proudly before him with her chin high, he wasn't sure his decision was correct.

Moving a step toward her, he rested his back casually on the railing. From this angle he could watch her closely as she seemed to be studying the waves. "I can answer any of your questions about sailing, Perry."

She didn't miss the change in his voice as he said her name. There was only the barest hint of passion in his tone. Perry knew he was holding himself closely in check.

"I have no more questions, thank you," she answered curtly. "Except, when will we arrive?"

"Can't wait to be rid of me?" Hunter asked, an odd smile forming on his face. He realized that his presence bothered her as much as hers tormented him. He stepped closer and studied her as he added, "In a few days you'll be rid of me and never have to see me again."

Perry glanced up and saw his smile. He must be counting the hours, she thought. Aloud she stammered, "G-good. I'll not have to be manhandled by you or your cousin again, once I'm under the protection of my brother."

Hunter moved back a step. "You need no protection from me. Your barbed tongue lashes like a whip."

"And you, sir, are as true to your word as a Yankee snake."

"And you, madam, are a poison in my blood. Would that I could cut myself and bleed until I am rid of you." Hunter's gray eyes turned stormy.

"You wouldn't bleed long, for you have no heart! You carry your needs like a banner, completely void of feelings!" Perry shouted. She knew others on the ship could hear her, but her anger wouldn't allow her to stop.

"And you, Perry, you feel? Tell me, what do you feel?" Hunter was within inches of her now.

Perry stared wide-eyed at him. His gray eyes looked into the very core of her. "I feel, I feel…" She could not continue. She whirled around to face the sea, gripping the railing tightly as if choking back words. How could she tell him she felt anger and love for him at the same time? How could she say to him how much she wanted and needed him, when his words would not be of love?

Hunter placed his hands on either side of her, yet he didn't touch her. She could feel his body only an inch behind her. His voice was low as he whispered, "What do you feel, Perry? Do you feel within you the same longing I feel? Does the temperature in your blood rise just a little when I'm around? Do you long for my arms to hold you as dearly as I long for you?'' Hunter knew his words were tormenting her. He knew she was as aware of his nearness as he was of hers.

"I'll hear no more." Perry whirled and pushed him back a step. She would have run, but his movements were swift.

"Wait, Perry." Hunter stepped to the ladder, blocking her path. He took a long breath to clear his thinking. He knew he'd chosen the wrong path and now must retreat before all was lost. "I didn't plan to fight with you." His voice was low and serious. He'd planned on being polite and distant to her, yet after only a few minutes they were shouting again. Hunter set his jaw in determination. "Hear me out."

Perry nodded, unable to trust her words.

"We must be together for a few more days. For the sake of my sanity, could we declare a truce?"

"You will hold true to the truce?" Perry questioned, raising her eyebrow in doubt.

"I will," Hunter answered. "If you will agree to stay below in bad weather."

Perry thought for a moment. She couldn't endure much more fighting. "I agree."

"Then for the next few days we won't fight but relax and enjoy each other's company." Hunter stepped away from the ladder and swept his arm across it to allow her to pass. "I'll see you at dinner, Miss Perry."

She walked to her cabin, her mind eased somewhat by Hunter's truce, but she couldn't help wondering how long this lull would last before another storm erupted between them.

And the next storm might drown them both in its fury..