The Guardian's Wildchild (28 page)

Sam wondered if the man in her life truly loved her. He was perhaps going mad with grief, believing she’d been executed. He wondered why the man would let her go on such a risky mission. But then, Sam had let Joy follow her own path too.

Sam directed his gaze at the ocean’s horizon. He knew without a doubt that he had to change course. But he was at a crossroads with no directional signals. The only thing he knew with absolute certainty was that he wasn’t going to continue along the path he’d been on.

“Sidney, I think I’ve just been put through a test.”

She grinned. “Did you pass?”

“Don’t know yet. I don’t think the test is over yet.” He looked back at her. “Got a few big hurdles ahead, and I think you’re going to help me get over them. If I pass the test, I might get my sons back, and if I survive that, you might get to go home. How does that sound?”

“What do you mean, ‘get your sons back’ and ‘if you survive’?”

“That’s a long story. You still game for that picnic?”

Sidney stepped closer. “You name the place and time and I’ll be there.”

Sam’s first reaction was to step away, but he resisted the urge and found the closeness with Sidney more comfortable than before.

“‘Course, you know, Captain, there are rules.”

Sam’s eyes opened wide. “Rules? You? That’s hard to believe. Okay, what are
your
rules?”

“Well, first of all, no uniform. No hint of your rank or connection with the navy. I want to talk to Samaru, not Captain Waterhouse. Second, unconditional trust — both ways.”

“Uh huh. What else?”

Sidney studied him briefly. “You know, I’ve got this feeling I could ask for almost anything right now and you’d agree to it, even the candle.”

Sam knew she was right. He felt so good, he’d agree to almost anything she asked for. The impending insanity had vanished. He’d had a taste of a Darkness he thought only existed in the minds of the criminally insane. He vowed he’d no longer be the admiral’s puppet. Sidney was now
his
ace in the hole. She didn’t know it, but she was going to get him out from under the admiral’s death grip.

He tried to put on an authoritative tone in his voice. It barely qualified. “Don’t push your luck, Sidney,” he said, playfully tapping her nose. “You’re still a prisoner — for the time being anyway.” Then, still feeling elated, he teased. “What’s your schedule like for tonight? Care for a picnic on my veranda?”

“See — you
can
have a picnic on a ship. Shall I dress up or down?” She grinned.

“My rules are ‘come as you are.’”

“Wow! That’s a relief. Any other rules?”

Sam thought for a moment. “You’ll answer all my questions.”

Sidney hesitated. She looked thoughtfully to the horizon. “Yes, Captain. I trust you’ll use the information wisely.” She looked back at Sam. “I do trust you. I hope you trust me.”

“I have to, Sidney. My sons’ lives depend on it. You see, there’s a method to my apparent madness. It’ll be risky. We may both end up dead. You’d better understand that right up front.”

Sidney shifted her gaze from Sam’s eyes to his forehead and followed his hairline down to folds of his ears, followed his strong jaw line and down his throat to the hollow spot just above his breastbone. She noted how the neatly pressed shirt hugged the muscles of his chest and arms. His left hand rested low on his hip.

“All morning I was preparing to leave this world. Instead, I’m going to a picnic and may eventually return home. Perhaps I’m just too grateful to waste my time worrying about what may or may not happen tomorrow. The present moment, Captain Samaru Waterhouse, is all I need.”

Sam wasn’t sure if he understood her meaning, but she appeared radiant and quietly joyful just to be alive. He’d never so clearly noticed her beauty until then. He stepped away.

“Come back to my office and have your lunch. When you’re done, you can spend the rest of the day on the deck again, if you wish.”

After her lunch, Sidney returned to the deck. In the hot afternoon, even the ocean seemed to roll lazily under a cloudless blue sky. The
Nonnah
quietly surged ahead through the waves. The few seamen outside leaned on the ship’s railing and watched the endless horizon. Sidney found a shaded area on the deck and sat, under the ever-watchful surveillance of Bridges and Moore. She closed her eyes.

Once again, she clearly heard her mother’s scream as her body fell from the cliff, saw her vacant eyes and bloody face. The childhood trauma had followed Sidney and refused to release her from the prison she’d built around her heart — until today. Today, with a touch of Sam’s hand, her heart was free of its bonds.

Each day she’d wrestled against the feelings that had begun to grow since the day Sam had told her about sailing
Tears of Joy
. She’d felt his passion and pride for his sailing ship. She’d seen his joy in challenging the tides and wind. She’d admired the way he hadn’t felt defeated, even when the island had refused to grant him safe passage to its shore. She’d heard his resolve to one day stand on the island’s shore.
Could it have been my island?
she wondered.

Sidney had no illusions. Sam had revealed not a glimmer of love for her. Nevertheless, the love she felt for him surged with a longing to be near him. She immersed herself in this new energy that swirled around and through her. It carried her effortlessly higher and higher to a dimension Greystone had talked of but had never been able to describe as vividly as she felt it now. She understood why.

She shifted her consciousness and searched for Danik. Telepathically, she called out to him, inviting him to join her. In a flash, he appeared before her in their cosmic dimension, grinning like a puppy who’d just buried a bone and was proud of his accomplishment.

“Danik! Pay attention. Sam, I mean, Captain Waterhouse, is in some kind of trouble. All I know for sure is that he’s no friend of Admiral Garland. His kids are involved somehow. We might be able to help him.”

Danik fought for control of his impetuous nature. “So it’s ‘Sam’ now?”

He stepped away and paced around her once before drawing near again. Offering his hands to her in the Guardian’s symbol of unconditional trust, she placed her palms on his. All barriers of their telepathic world evaporated. Their spiritual energies merged. The union was brief, but it was all that was necessary for Danik to receive the details of Sidney’s dilemma.

“I’m going to New Seattle,” he stated.

“No, Danik. It’s much too dangerous for you. You’ll be recognized. Badger’s people will be on the watch for you. You mustn’t. Let Ryan and the underground handle it.”

Danik’s boyish demeanor gave way to his underlying tenacious warrior spirit. “Sidney, that ship you’re on is bound to return to New Seattle, and you’ll be on it. When it arrives, I’m getting you off of it. Besides, Greystone’s decided that Frank Butchart has to come back to the island. I’m the lucky one who gets to deliver that package.”

Sidney opened her mouth to speak, but Danik held up his hand to silence her.

“I’ll be there, Sid. In New Seattle. Me and Ryan and whoever else we can dig up.”

Sidney knew it was no use arguing with him. She reached out and touched his face. “I love you, Danik.”

Sidney returned her consciousness the ship’s deck. It was late in the afternoon, and she told Bridges she’d like to return to her cell. It was time to prepare for her picnic with Sam.

Moon reported to the captain before he began his shift.

Sam, sat at his desk. “Have a seat, Rhett.”

“Sir, I understand the prisoner’s execution has been postponed. Has the admiral changed his mind?”

Sam thought for a moment. Just how much should he reveal to Commander Moon? It still rankled him that he had information about his personal life, information that Butchart would’ve been privy to. It was disappointing to discover that Moon may have been collaborating with Butchart. But for now, Sam planned to continue his relaxed relationship with his first officer.

“Rhett, my report concerning the prisoner will be sent to the admiral in the morning as usual. You have command of the
Nonnah
until zero-six-hundred hours tomorrow. This evening, I’m going to be occupied picking the prisoner’s brain.” Then he set the baited trap. “She’s promised to reveal information concerning Captain Butchart. Apparently, they have a history. I don’t want to be interrupted unless there’s an emergency.”

If Moon was truly collaborating with Butchart, Sam would soon know.

“Captain, are you saying Captain Butchart is under suspicion? Should I expect anything unusual, sir?”

“You and the officers are to focus only on getting the
Nonnah
to Pearl Harbor. Do you have any other concerns, Rhett?”

Moon shifted in his chair. “No, sir. Permission to resume my duties, sir?”

“Permission granted, Commander. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

By the time Bridges returned to Sidney’s cell to deliver her to Sam’s office, she’d bathed and freshened up the clothes Lorna had bought for her. She’d brushed her hair until it glowed, and its waves danced freely over her shoulders. All that remained was to find a way to quiet the butterflies in her stomach.

Following Bridges to Sam’s office, her heart raced. Her mind was filled with a cascade of questions: What was he going to ask her? Would she have the courage to tell all her secrets as she’d promised? What would he be like without his uniform? Would he touch her face the way he had this morning?

16. Revealing the Crystal’s Power

Afternoon, July 10, En Route to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

When Sidney stepped into Sam’s office, she was pleased to see he had on a short-sleeved white shirt and khaki trousers. Even casual, though, he was still meticulously starched and neatly pressed. She wondered if he could he ever relax and be just Sam.

“
Buenas noches
, Sam.” She winked, testing his resolve to remain the starched naval officer.

He smiled briefly. “Good evening, Sidney. Let’s go through my quarters and sit on the veranda.”

Sam opened the door to his private quarters and stood to the side. Sidney’s heart quickened its pace again as she stepped into his personal space. It contained a minimal amount of furniture, and what was there was simple but of fine quality. She wanted to see more, but he’d placed his hand on the small of her back and urged her to continue out onto the veranda through French doors.

The veranda was grand — it was originally intended to host private parties for cruise ship officers and wealthy guests. It extended thirty feet to the ship’s railing and was enclosed on both sides by a high wall. A roof extended twelve feet out from the French doors to partially cover the veranda. It was a very private place. Sidney was pleased to see potted flowering plants and evergreen shrubs scattered about, giving the terrace the appearance of a garden. The floor even had artificial turf to resemble a lawn. It almost fooled her except for the feel of it on her bare feet.

She watched Sam as he busied himself with pouring a drink for her.

“This is a special blend of teas, lemon, and spice. My own concoction. Do you like it?”