The Pirate

9

Outside the gray-shingled cottage, an unrelenting wind whipped through the branches of the live oaks, sending up an eerie moan. Waves, roiling and ominously black, crashed against the narrow beach. In the sky above, the moon shone as it had the night he'd gone, the bright white light dimmed every few minutes by invisible clouds scudding across the night sky.

Meredith let the lace curtain drop from her stiff fingers and glanced at the clock next to the bed. Her heart skipped a beat. Eleven fifty-five. It was almost time. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, clutching the book to her chest.

"Please, please, let this work," she whispered, a desperate edge to her voice. "Send him back to me, safe and sound."

He wasn't dead. She'd spent the last month proving that to herself, searching every original source she could find-letters, journals, books-for any mention of his name. The day she found the name of the seaman mistaken for a pirate, she cried, for it wasn't Griffin Rourke.

Every night, from the night that he'd left, she'd stood on the beach and waited, hoping that by some miracle she would find him there. Some evenings, she would let the tears fall unchecked, allowing herself to fall prey to her emotions. On other nights, she would refuse to give in, knowing in her heart that they would be together soon. Sometimes, she'd even talk to him, as if he were right be-side her, telling him all about the baby and the wonderful future they'd have together.

With trembling fingers, she lit the lantern. Ben Gunn was already in his place in the closet, squawking in protest. She'd even put on the same clothes she'd worn the night Griffin arrived, just for luck. Meredith searched her mind for anything she'd missed. For all she knew, she might have only one chance to bring him back and she wanted to make that chance count.

All the lights in the house were out, the phone was unplugged. She reached over and flipped off the bedside lamp, then opened the closet door. "Come back to me, Griffin," she said as she stepped inside. "Come back to me now."

Meredith sat down on the closet floor, pulling her knees up to her chest to wriggle into the cramped space. Slowly, she ruffled through the pages of the book until she found the picture of the pirate. Drawing a deep breath, she focused her gaze on the delicate ink lines that made up his handsome face, a face that looked so much like Griffin's.

"Awk. Shiver me timbers!" Ben screeched. "Thar she blows!"

"Come back," Meredith murmured, running her finger lovingly across the page.

"Aye, matey." Ben flapped his wings, his shadow wavering on the closet wall.

"Come back."

"I takes my man Friday with me!"

"Come back to me, Griffin. Now. Please."

"Come back," Ben mimicked.

Meredith stared at the picture for a long-time, repeating her plea over and over again like a mantra. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but suddenly she was acutely aware that the wind had stopped blowing. Holding her breath, she listened and waited. Then, with a cry of relief, Meredith stumbled to her feet and shoved open the closet door. Ben followed her with a flap of his wings.

"Griffin?" Her shout echoed through the dark, silent house. "Griffin!"

She ran through the rooms, the book still clutched in her arms, checking each shadowy corner before she headed outside. Though the wind had stopped, the waves still roared against the shore. For an instant, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and Meredith thought she saw a flash of white on the beach.

"Griffin!" She ran toward the water's edge as the moon slipped behind a cloud again. But when she reached the spot, there was nothing there. Turning frantically, she looked for any sign of him, but the beach was deserted.

"Griffin!" Her voice died against the roar of the waves. "Oh, God, Griffin, please. You have to be alive. Please, don't leave me here alone." A sob tore from her throat and Meredith dropped to her knees.

She opened the book and searched for the picture. A flood of moonlight spilled over the lawn, illuminating the page of the book. "You can't be dead," she cried. "I'd know it. I'd feelit." She drew a ragged breath and watched as a tear dropped onto the yellowed page. "I love you, Griffin. I will always love you, wherever you are. I will always-"

A sharp crack of thunder obliterated her words. Meredith looked up, startled by the sound. A violent shiver rocked her body and she cried out at the sight before her.

The sky had turned an eerie, luminescent blue and the water below looked like liquid silver, glowing with its own light. Transfixed, Meredith watched as the ghostly images of three square-rigged ships appeared before her eyes, then faded again, behind a shroud of vapor.

Thunder split the silence again and Meredith jumped, her breath catching in her throat. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air and she realized that it was not thunder she'd heard, but cannon fire. She tried to crawl to her feet, but her legs refused to move. A cacophony of sound descended around her-men shouting, pistols firing and the unnerving boom of cannons.

From out of nowhere, the wind began to blow, swirling and screeching around her until her eyes watered and her ears rang. The book blew from her hand but she managed to grab it before it had blown too far. Meredith curled into a ball and covered her head with her arms, screaming in terror against the chaos.

And then the ground lurched beneath her and the noise grew more intense, more distinct. Panic was upon her, so overwhelming she felt as if she might be sick. And then the wind stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

Hesitantly, she lifted her head and risked a look around, squinting against a bright light. She still held the book clutched against her chest, but it was no longer night, it was day. And she was no longer in her backyard, but inside a small rowboat. Her gaze followed the length of a tall mast above her and her heart stopped as she came upon a familiar flag snapping in the breeze.

A horned skeleton, white on a black background, held an hourglass in one hand and a dagger in the other. "In league with the devil," Meredith whispered numbly, "and your time is running out." And beneath the dagger, a red heart and three drops of blood. "Surrender," she continued, "or blood will be drawn."

Shoving the book under a mildewed canvas at the bow, she got up and peered over the edge of the rowboat, only to find herself on board a larger ship. Blackbeard's ship!

And from what she could tell, she was caught in the midst of a battle.

All around her, a ragtag army of pirates swarmed the deck, gathering near the cannons that lined one side of the sloop. Many of the men held small wooden kegs under their arms and others hurriedly lugged cannonballs from one side of the ship to the other.

"We've cut the villains in half!"

Meredith turned toward the booming voice. A towering hulk of a man stood in the center of the deck, a man she'd only seen in her mind's eye and old illustrations. But now, the pirate Blackbeard stood before her. And he was alive!

Edward Teach cut a fierce figure, tall and broad-shouldered, his waist-long beard twisted into strands, his bushy black mustache covering his mouth. Over a ragged coat, leather belts crisscrossed his chest with a brace of pistols looped in each. He wielded a cutlass in his left hand and a cocked pistol in his right.

"Damnation," Teach shouted. "The cannons have put us aground!"

Meredith watched, concealed in the ship's tender as the battle of Ocracoke Inlet began to unfold before her eyes. The events were happening exactly as she knew they would. As the crew scurried to refloat the ship, Lieutenant Maynard's two sloops were reeling from the pirate's eight-gun broadside attack. Half of Maynard's Royal Navy contingent was already dead or wounded.

Frantically, Meredith scanned the deck for Griffin. Was he on board the pirate ship? Or had he sailed with Maynard's crew? All she knew was that she had to find him, for she had been dropped into this place and time for a reason. And in her heart, she believed it was to save his life.

Slowly, she pushed to her feet. But before she could get a good look around, the ship lurched again and she tumbled headfirst out of the tender and into a musty pile of wool blankets. The deck rolled beneath her. The Adventure had broken free of the sandbar.

With her head down, Meredith crawled to the rail and wedged herself into a secluded spot behind a coil of rope. Blackbeard's ship lay just off the southern tip of Ocracoke. And out in the Sound, on the other side of the sandbar, Maynard's two sloops were struggling to free themselves from a shallow shoal. The Rangerlooked badly damaged, but Maynard's other sloop was now afloat and closing the distance between it and the Adventure.

Meredith squinted across the water at the oncoming sloop. She could clearly see the men on deck, could even hear their shouts. Had there been no danger to her own safety, she could have called Griffin's name, but she remained silent, watching, waiting, fearing discovery.

And then her gaze fell on a familiar figure, standing at the rail of Maynard's sloop. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, then offered up a silent prayer of gratitude. He was still alive! Thank God, Griffin was still alive!

The breeze whipped his long dark hair around his face and fluttered the full sleeves of his white linen shirt. He, too, gazed across the water, his eyes fixed on the bow of Teach's ship. Did he know she was here? He couldn't possibly see her, but could he sense her presence?

With growing trepidation, Meredith watched as history happened before her eyes. Most of the men on board Maynard's ship had mysteriously disappeared, leaving only a few to be seen. Meredith knew they were waiting below deck, on the lieutenant's order, for Blackbeard's men to board. Only then, would they spring from the hold and attack. After what seemed like hours, the Adventurebumped alongside the deserted sloop.

"They were all knocked on the head but three or four," Blackbeard shouted in glee. "Blast you-board her and cut them to pieces!"

Emboldened by the order and armed with pistols and crude hand grenades, the pirates threw the grappling irons out across the bulwarks of Maynard's ship. Before they jumped the rail, they tossed the lit grenades onto the deck. After the explosions, Blackbeard boarded first, followed by ten of his pirates, all of them howling and firing their pistols at the slightest movement.

Through the thick smoke from the hand grenades, Meredith saw Maynard's crew emerge from below deck and engage the pirates in mortal combat. For an instant, she thought she saw Griffin again, but then he disappeared in the melee. Pistols flashed and cutlasses rang, and all around, men shouted.

The battle raged on, every man fighting furiously for his life, the wounded screaming in agony, and the dying shuddering with their last breaths. And in the middle of it all, Blackbeard swung his cutlass in a vicious slashing pattern, felling men all around him.

Again, she caught sight of Griffin, but then lost him. To board the sloop and find him would be folly. Without a weapon, she'd be dead before she took two steps. But she couldn't just watch as the man she loved fought for his life.

And then, she knew it was nearly over, for she had read the account of Blackbeard's final offensive over and over again. First, Lieutenant Maynard engaged the pirate. They both pulled pistols and took aim. Blackbeard's shot missed, but Maynard's tore through the pirate's body. Still, Teach fought on, the powerful blow of his cutlass snapping Maynard's sword at the hilt. The lieutenant fell backward, struggling to cock a second pistol. With perverse delight, Teach held his cutlass aloft, ready to deal Maynard a death blow.

"Rourke!" Maynard shouted.

A tall figure stepped out of the smoke, pistol drawn, sword at the ready.

With a howl of rage, Blackbeard turned on Griffin, the spy who had betrayed him. He swung his cutlass wildly and Griffin jumped back, throwing up his sword in defense, blocking the vicious blow. But the wounded pirate was crazed with fury, attacking like a man gone mad. As Griffin feinted and blocked each thrust of the cutlass, Maynard struggled to his feet to aid his friend and join in the fight. Crazed and bleeding, Blackbeard fought off the lieutenant's advances, as well.

Meredith scrambled out from her hiding place and made her way along the rail of the empty pirate ship. "Griffin!" she shouted.

For an instant, he turned away from the battle and met Meredith's gaze, his expression frozen in disbelief. "Merrie?" That was all it took for the pirate to take an advantage. He raised his cutlass over Griffin's head.

"No!" Meredith screamed. Griffin spun around, then ducked, fumbling for his pistol. He aimed blindly, firing at point-blank range. Blackbeard stumbled backward from the force of the ball, his cutlass dropping to his side, his hand clutching at his neck.

Griffin didn't look back. He fixed his gaze on Merrie and with relentless determination, he fought through the surge of pirates to reach the rail. Meredith waited, crying out with each blow he deflected. Suddenly, he was so close she could nearly touch him. She called his name as he leaped on board the Adventure, but as she reached out for him, she saw a pirate aim a pistol at Griffin's back. With a cry of alarm, she threw herself against Griffin's body and shoved him aside.

A searing pain shot through her arm. She stumbled, clutching Griffin's arm, then looked down to find blood slowly soaking her sleeve. She smiled. The pain didn't really matter. All she felt was overwhelming relief, for she knew that it was her blood and not his.

Slowly, her knees buckled and everything around her dissolved into darkness.

With a vivid curse, Griffin grabbed Merrie and quickly shielded her from the battle raging behind them. "God's teeth, Merrie, what the hell are you doing here?" he shouted over the noise. "And how did you end up on Teach's ship?" She didn't reply and he cursed again. But as he tried to steer her toward the far rail of the Adventure, she seemed to be fighting him, like a dead weight in his arms.

"Merrie?"

He looked down in confusion, only to find her limp and boneless, her eyes closed, her face pale and blood seeping through her right sleeve.

He closed his eyes and fought a flood of emotion. "Oh, Lord, no," he whispered. In one swift movement, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of harm's way.

Griffin's mind raced, fear for Merrie's life burning in his throat. He had to get her away from all this chaos, before the tide of the battle turned again. Though Blackbeard had fallen, his men still fought on. And one of them had shot Merrie.

The Adventure was deserted except for a few cowering retainers, servants who worked on board but did not choose to fight. He spotted the ship's surgeon peering out from behind a barrel.

"Come here!" he ordered. "She has been wounded. You must help her!"

The old man shook his head, his rheumy eyes defiant.

"You cannot just let her bleed," Griffin cried. "By God, you are a surgeon, man. Do your job!"

"Not fer a traitor, nor fer a traitor's woman. Let her bleed, fer I will not lift a hand to aid her."

Griffin drew his pistol and took careful aim at the man's head, but the pirate surgeon merely laughed.

So be it. If Merrie was to live, then hewould be the one to make it so.

Griffin glanced over his shoulder to see a pair of Teach's men retreating onto the deck of the Adventure. Considering the surgeon's hostile opinion of him, an armed pirate might pose an even greater danger to both himself and Merrie. He had to get her off this ship!

Griffin strode along the far rail. Lashed to the stern of the boat was a small tender the pirates used to ferry themselves to shore after dropping anchor. With single-minded purpose, he set Merrie down on the deck, drew his dagger from his boot and sliced through both ropes. He pushed the boat off the stern and it dropped into the water with a muffled splash.

"I will take you from this hellhole, Merrie, and make you safe again, that I vow."

Keeping one eye on Merrie, he snatched whatever supplies he could put his hands on-three moth-eaten blankets, a small sail, a burlap sack filled with fresh vegetables-and tossed them all into the boat. Two kegs of fresh water and a pair of oars went over the rail next, bobbing to the surface to float beside the small boat.

Satisfied there was nothing more to salvage, he gently hoisted Merrie's unconscious body onto his shoulder and stepped over the rail. Their combined weight and the height from which he jumped plunged them both deep beneath the water. Kicking strongly, he pushed for the surface, then broke through.

Treading water, Griffin quickly checked Merrie's breathing, then swam toward the boat. After settling Merrie in the bottom of the boat, he went after the water kegs and the oars. In less than a minute, he was rowing toward the southern tip of Ocracoke Island, to safety.

"You should not have come," he muttered, as if she could hear him. "I told you to wait and summon me when this was all over." She didn't respond, and he fought back another surge of fear. He'd been in the midst of the battle, yet had emerged without a scratch, only to see her, innocent and unaware, wounded by a pirate's pistol.

From the moment he'd left her in her own time, he'd regretted his decision. Damn his stubbornness. He didn't need to confront Teach to feel like a whole man! He felt that way when he was with Merrie. Every night since he'd landed back in his own time, he'd stood on the waterfront gazing out at the horizon, waiting for her to call him back, hoping she might not hold fast to their agreed-upon plan. She had, and now, she was in mortal peril. And it was all his fault.

He rowed hard, until he was drenched in sweat and his muscles burned in protest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt the sand beneath the boat. Scrambling over the side, he pulled it up on shore. In the distance, he could still hear sporadic pistol shots, but the battle seemed to be drawing to a close. He had no way of knowing who had triumphed, but he had to trust Merrie's history books.

The pirates would be captured and he and Merrie would be safe on Ocracoke until help arrived.

Gently, he gathered her in his arms and carried her onto the beach, then settled her at the base of a dune. Dropping to his knees, he held her close, cradled against his body. She was so cold and still. "Do not leave me, Merrie," he whispered against her cheek. "I traveled across time to find ye, and I will not lose ye now."

Bracing her against his chest, he tore the sleeve of her blouse away and examined her wound. The ball had grazed the fleshy part of her upper arm and the bleeding had already slowed. "'Tis not as bad as I thought," Griffin murmured, needing to hear his own words as comfort.

He hastily retrieved the sail and spread it out on the sand, then laid Merrie on top of it. With his dagger, he pried the plug from the water keg. The pungent smell of rum wafted up to his nose. "Damn," he muttered. He took a long swallow to calm his nerves. "We will use it to clean your wound, Merrie-girl, for 'tis not fit for you to drink." He snatched up the other keg and prayed that it would contain water. If Merrie grew feverish, he'd need fresh water and finding it on Ocracoke was near to impossible.

To his relief, the keg did contain water, stale but potable. He gently washed her wound and then poured a bit of rum on it for good measure. His linen shirt, torn into strips, made adequate bandages, and before long, he'd made her as comfortable as possible.

The afternoon sun was warm and the breeze gentle, so Griffin laid the wet blankets over a stand of sea grass, knowing they would be needed as soon as the sun began to sink below the western horizon. "Tomorrow morning, there will be fishermen and trading ships passing near this island," he said, pressing her against his bare chest for warmth. "But for tonight, we are on our own, Merrie."

Griffin lay down on the sail and pulled Merrie against his body, taking care not to jostle her wound. He pressed his lips to her forehead, relieved to find that she hadn't grown feverish. Her skin felt cool and smooth and he gave her a soft kiss. "Wake up, Merrie-girl. Wake up and look at me with those emerald eyes of yours. Come on, Merrie." He reached down and stroked her temple with his fingers, watching her face, drinking in the sight of her after so many days apart.

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She looked at him with a groggy gaze. "Griffin?"

He smiled. "Hello, Merrie-girl."

"You're alive," she murmured. "I've missed you so much."

"And I have missed you," he said. "More than you will ever know. How do you feel?"

She frowned. "I-I hurt. My arm. What happened?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. You will be fine. I swear I will let no harm come to you."

She gazed up at him sleepily. "Good. I'm fine…the baby… is fine. We're all… fine." Her eyes slowly drifted shut. Griffin pressed his palm to her forehead. She did feel a bit warmer. He cursed softly. The fever was starting and she was losing touch with reality. She was mixing up his past with her present, his dead child with her injury.

He grabbed what was left of his shirt and soaked it with water, then dabbed it on her forehead. "I will not lose you, Merrie. We will have a long life together, you and I."

While Merrie slept, Griffin built a fire at the base of the dune, big enough to provide some warmth, but small enough not to attract attention. There was no way of knowing whether any of the pirates had escaped the battle, and he was ill prepared to deal with them now.

As he bent over to throw another piece of driftwood onto the fire, Merrie cried out his name. She sat straight up, her glazed eyes frantically searching for him, her breath coming in short pants.

"I-I thought you were gone."

He returned to her side, gathering her into his embrace. "I am here. I will not leave you, I promise."

Her breathing gradually calmed and he felt her relax in his arms. "I'll never leave you," he said, tracing the perfect curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. "You taught me to love again. After I lost Jane, I was dead. All I cared about was finding a way to numb the pain, first with drink, then with women and then with my scheme to bring down Teach. You were right, though. He didn't cause my father's death. And I think I knew that all the time."

"But I felt empty for such a long time, and my thirst for vengeance seemed to make me feel again. Even though it was hate, at least I felt alive. And then I met you, and you saved my life, first on your beach and then on the Adventure, but most important, you saved me with your love."

"And slowly, all the hate seemed to drain out of me and I was filled with you. I should never have left you, Merrie." Griffin smiled and shook his head. "I loved you and I let you down. And someday, maybe I will be able to say this all to you again, so you might hear me and understand. But for now, know that I love you more than life itself."

Griffin touched his mouth to hers then buried his face in her silken hair. How could he have been such a fool? If he'd stayed with her as she'd begged him to, she would never have been hurt. But in his stubborn quest for vengeance, he had risked her life, and for that, he would never forgive himself.

During the night, Merrie's condition worsened. She tossed and turned, crying out in pain. She fought against the blankets, but as soon as he removed them, she began to shiver violently. He drizzled rum and water into her mouth with the rag and spoke softly to her of the life they would share and the love in his heart. She babbled of pirates and babies, begged for Kelsey and screamed at someone named Delia. And then she talked to her mother and father as if she were still a child.

Finally, she drifted off to sleep, the rum finally taking effect. Sleeplessly, Griffin watched her, listening to her ragged breathing, counting the minutes until dawn and cursing his inability to help her.

And sometime, during the darkest moments of night, he began to pray, begging God to spare the only woman he had ever loved. A woman who held his heart and soul in her very hands.

The words came to her in a haze. Go to sleep, Merrie-girl. And if I am gone when you wake, you will think this has all been a dream. A dream… a delicious dream.

Meredith slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light. For a moment, she wondered where she was, but then she nestled beneath the blanket and sighed. She'd just sleep a bit longer. Maybe if she was lucky, she could slip back into the fantasy again. The pirate… the battle… the bedroom. This time, it seemed so real.

But as she tried to go back to sleep, the rest of the world seemed determined to wake her up. A cool breeze chilled her face and the gulls and the waves were particularly loud this morning, adding to the nagging headache she had. She reached up to pull the blanket over her head and a sharp pain shot through her right arm.

"Ouch!" she cried, then opened her eyes. "What the devil is-"

"You're awake. How do you feel?"

With a cry of surprise, Meredith shaded her gaze and stared up at a tall shadowy figure that blocked the light. The silhouette was familiar, broad shoulders, narrow waist, muscular legs…and long hair that whipped about in the breeze. Her dream… could this be her pirate? Meredith slowly raised herself, bracing against her good arm.

"Griffin?" she asked softly.

"I am here, love."

"You're Griffin."

He squatted beside her and smoothed her hair back from her eyes, staring at her in concern. "Of course I am, Merrie-girl. Who did you think I was?"

Meredith shook her head, trying to marshal her jumbled thoughts. Her pirate was here. This wasn't a dream. He was real and his name was Griffin. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her. She glanced around, not recognizing her surroundings. She was on a deserted beach. Her eyes fixed on a small boat pulled up on the sand and she frowned. She'd seen that boat before… but where?

"Where are we?"

"On Ocracoke. My Ocracoke, not yours."

"Wh-what happened?" she murmured.

"You were wounded during the battle. You've had a fever, but you're all right now."

"I traveled back in time," Meredith said. "I was waiting for you on the beach and when you didn't come, I thought I'd lost you forever. Then, suddenly, the sky turned a strange color and I could see ships in Teach's Hole. And the next thing I knew, I was on the Adventure."

He kissed her softly. "When I saw you, I could not believe my eyes. Faith, but I was angry with you, Merrie. For disobeying me, for putting your life in danger."

"I didn't disobey you," Meredith said stubbornly. "I was on the beach at midnight, waiting, just as we'd agreed. Not that I don't have every right to disobey if I choose. You can be so domineering, sometimes."

Griffin tipped his head back and laughed. "I believe I have my Merrie back, sharp tongue and all. And perhaps I should be glad of it. Perhaps, without you there, I might have been torn asunder by a pirate's cutlass. Perhaps you have once again saved my life, Merrie."

"I had to," Meredith murmured. "I couldn't lose you." She tugged him down next to her and laid her head in his lap, losing herself in his nearness. "I never want to lose you again, Griffin."

"I am well aware that I do not express my feelings eloquently," Griffin said softly. "But 'tis Ithat could not bear the prospect of losing you."

She snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

He bent down and kissed the end of her nose. "But I nearly did lose you. You were feverish for so long and I could do nothing for you. And there was no help to be found. I had nearly decided to row you across the Sound, when you seemed to rest easier."

Meredith frowned, a sudden uneasiness assailing her senses. "How long was I sick?"

"Two days."

Instinctively, her hand fell to her stomach. "The baby? Is the baby all right?"

Griffin's gaze filled with worry. "Merrie, you were delirious. There is no baby."

"Of course there's a baby," she said. "Ourbaby."

He patted her hand sympathetically. "Close your eyes and get some rest. You are still feeling the ill effects of the fever."

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. "Did I forget to tell you about the baby?" She shook her head. "I can't tell the difference between what's real and what was part of the dream. I was sure I told you. We are going to have a baby, Griffin."

He stared at her, his expression emotionless save for a muscle twitching in his jaw. "A baby? You are certain of this?"

"I went to the doctor yesterday. Well, not exactly yesterday…" She paused and smiled, trying to hide her confusion at his cool reaction to her news. She was sure he would have been happy. "More like tomorrow, two hundred seventy-eight years in the future. You-you don't look pleased," she stated glumly.

He sighed and got to his feet, then began to pace in the sand beside her. "To be honest, Merrie, I am not. 'Tis not what I would have chosen for you."

"If you're worried about my reputation, don't be."

He laughed harshly. "I am not worried about your reputation. That can be solved easily enough by marriage."

"Why do all your proposals sound like direct orders? What if I don't want to marry you?"

He glared at her, his eyebrow arched. "You willmarry me, of that you can be certain."

"I will decide if I will marry you or not."

He continued to stare at her, waiting, a sardonic smile on his face.

"I can't imagine a more pitiful proposal," she muttered.

Griffin groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. "I do not mean to be dictatorial… or boorish." He knelt in the sand beside her and clasped her left hand between his. "Meredith Abbott, I love you, damn it. Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

A smile curled the corners of her mouth and she giggled. "You're forgiven, Griffin Rourke. And yes, I think I will become your wife."

His stern expression cracked and he chuckled, then kissed her palm. "I want to spend my life with you, Merrie."

"And the baby?" she asked. "Do you want our baby?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Of course I do. It's just that, I-I want to grow old, with you beside me."

"We can do that," Meredith cried. "Women have had babies for years, Griffin. I'm healthy and our child will be healthy." She paused and studied his tense profile for a moment. "But this isn't about me, is it? This is about Jane."

His head snapped around and he stared at her. "I could not have saved her, even if I had been there. Merrie, you mean more to me than anyone I have ever known. I could not stand to lose you. It would kill me."

She placed her palm on his cheek. "I'm not Jane and I won't die, Griffin. Not until we've spent at least the next fifty years together in this world, and eternity together in the next."

He looked out at the water, refusing to meet her eyes. "Things are different in this time, Merrie," he said, frustration edging his voice. "You know what the medical care is like here. I cannot help thinking that you would have been better off staying in your own time. At least I would have known that you, and the child, were safe."

"But we don't have to live here," she said. Her statement came right out of the blue, but she knew she spoke the truth. She blinked hard, then gazed over at the boat on the beach. Suddenly, it all came back to her. That's where she'd seen the boat, on Blackbeard's ship. And in-side the boat was the book. Meredith laughed out loud, her uncontrolled giggles causing a frown of concern on Griffin's face.

Griffin placed his palm on her forehead to check for fever. "I don't know where the book is, Merrie. I wish I did, for I would not force you to stay here against your will. Would that I could take us both back to your time."

Meredith drew a deep breath and stilled her laughter. "The book is in the boat," she said, pointing to the beach. "It's in the bow, beneath an old canvas."

He looked at her in disbelief. "How do you know this?"

"Because I put it there," she said.

Griffin stared at her for a while as if trying to judge her lucidity. Then he stood and jogged down the beach to the boat. When he returned, a smile curled the corners of his mouth. "We can go back," he said, his voice filled with relief. Suddenly, with a shout, he bent over and grabbed Meredith around the waist and pulled her up against him, lifting her feet off the ground. Just as quickly, he placed her in front of him and cupped her face in his hands, raining kisses over her face.

"We can go back," he repeated. "You'll be safe, the baby will be safe and we will live a long and happy life together."

She looked deeply into his pale eyes. "Is that what you want? To live in my time?"

"Yes," Griffin said. "I should have never left."

"You don't want to stay here?"

He growled at her. "On this, I know my mind. I love you, Merrie-girl, more than life itself. And I have come to realize this in so many ways since we have been apart. If living in your time will mean more time together, for us and our child, then that is where I want to be."

Meredith hugged the book to her chest and gazed at the man who had traveled across time to find her. He was right. They were meant to be together and nothing would ever separate them again. She raised herself on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Then I think it's time for us to go home, Griffin Rourke. We have a long adventure ahead of us and I want it to begin right now."