She thought she could see some specks in the distance, but experience told her that there was no way they could make them before tomorrow. She wished she could just stay up on deck, but letting the men know that she had been chased out of her quarters by that honey-tongued beauty would be detrimental to her authority. Morgan looked down at the piece of rope she was holding and sighed. Spreading her hands before her she studied them, noting the calluses built up from the last five years living at sea. Her wrists were much thicker than they had been when she had first set out with her father, and she could clearly remember the day they left their home on land for one at sea.
Morgan stood at the railing next to her father, her arm tucked in the crook of his, waving at their friends who had come to the dock to see them off. Her skirts spread out around her, just brushing the deck, and as she waved the wind fluttered the lace that trimmed her gloves. Her father stood tall and proud next to her, finally the captain of his own ship, sailing under the US flag. His first mate stood next to him and they discussed their route as the ship slowly sailed out of the harbor. Morgan knew that at nineteen years old her father should have made her marry, but he said that when she pouted at him she reminded him of her mother and he couldn't deny her anything either. So, here she was, at his side on his maiden voyage, everything they had invested in their ship.
Morgan scrubbed the heel of her hand across her eyes and shoved the memories down. A sound from below drew her attention to the stern of the ship, where she saw a scuffle between a couple of men. With a curse she swung herself down into the rigging and scurried down the ropes to the deck. Flying across the deck, she leapt up the stairs and bellowed at the two men, one a member of her crew, the other a member of the captured one.
"Alright you two, STOP!!" Her man immediately let go and backed away from the other, shooting a worried glance at her. The other tried to land another punch, but she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Jacob bounded up the steps and slid to a panting halt next to her. Glowering at the two men, he apologized to her.
"Cap'n, I'll take care of this for you," he got out between heaves of his chest. She remembered that he had been up in the rigging as well. Her man had already sat himself against the railing, hanging his head. The other looked around in confusion.
"Jacob, put them both on latrine duty, and when we get to port, get them off the ship. He," she pointed at her man, "is to get only half of his take, split the rest among the rest of the crew. Neither of them are to be allowed to serve on my crew again." Jacob nodded at her and led the two of them away. She stayed at the helm and checked their bearing, waiting for Jacob to send another mate up to take the wheel. She knew that shortly the captured crewmate would realize that his punishment was a lot worse that he thought, once the others filled him and the rest in on how she ran her ship. No fighting, no stealing, follow orders and you were rewarded well. Fight, steal, shirk your duties, and your take was cut in half, and you were never again allowed to serve on the ship. She had only lost five crewmen that way since she took over the ship, and that was why. She was fair, and they knew it, and they knew to follow her instincts. She never got them caught out in a storm, and had never lost a battle. Every trip out was profitable, and she knew without a doubt that filling the empty spots of her crew would take little time. Most of the spots would be taken by the crew from Allison's ship, if they chose to stay and they passed muster with the men, the rest would be filled by men waiting for jobs at port. Morgan locked the helm into it's bearing and walked down the stairs as she saw the first helmsman walking back across the deck.
As she passed him he grinned at her and advised her to "Get some chow, Cap'n, cook made up some good stew today!"
Morgan smiled at him and waved him on. She spent the remainder of the afternoon stopping and chatting with all of her men, getting their opinions of the men they had captured and whether or not any would want to stay on, and if they'd want them to. By the time the sun was halfway to the horizon she had a good feel of how all of them felt, and a good idea of how things would pass once they reached their destination. Finding that she could no longer avoid it, she headed for her cabin. She hadn't seen Allison up on deck once since the redhead had retreated that afternoon, and she'd found herself missing her. Shaking her head at herself, she stopped at the galley and asked the cook to bring her enough stew and bread for both her and Allison as soon as he got the opportunity. Stopping outside her door she listened for a moment, but all was silent inside. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slipped in, closing it quietly behind her.
Her cabin was dim, the light filtering in through the portholes throwing most of the interior in shadow. Making her way to her desk she lit the lamp sitting on the corner and turned to look around the room. The chair in the corner was empty, but Allison's dress and chemise were laid across the top of her trunk. She turned the rest of the way around and sighed softly. The young woman had donned Morgan's shirt again and was sound asleep in her bed. She lay partly on her stomach, arms wrapped around her pillow, her hair spread out round her. The shirt's wide-open neck had let it slip down off of her shoulder, and the bottom had slipped up over her hips. Morgan held her breath, afraid to disturb the scene painted before her. Slowly, she made her way back around her desk and sat down in her chair. Leaning back she closed her eyes to the bed and tried to quiet her turbulent thoughts. Allison murmured in her sleep and Morgan's eyes popped open. Morgan, you've got to be hearing things!! She did NOT just say your name in her sleep.
Morgan jumped at a soft rap on her door. Answering her soft call, the cook opened the door and lifted the tray up to her. Waving him in she motioned for him to set it down on her desk. The man obeyed, glancing at the figure asleep in her bed. Grinning, he started to congratulate her until she shook her head at him. Looking a little crestfallen, he frowned and left the room. Shaking her head, she could only imagine the stories he would spread. Looking back at the bed, she found her body aching to show her crew she was the amorous captain they pictured her as. Okay, so maybe her virtue isn't quite so safe in my company. Peeking at the tray she decided that the stew would hold and she could let the obviously exhausted young woman sleep a little longer. Sitting back down in her chair she pulled her log out and, dipping the tip of her quill, started to fill in the day's activities.
Allison felt her body waking up and resisted, her mind clinging onto the delicious sensations her dream had coursing through her. Powerful, yet gentle hands held her firmly while soft, sensual lips teased the tender skin of her neck. She sank her fingers into the dark, silky hair that poured down over strong shoulders and pleaded with her tormentor. Their bodies were twined together in a sensual meeting of skin and curves and she could hardly believe she was reacting so strongly. She murmured her lover's name and found her lips reclaimed in a passionate kiss. Reaching out to pull her lover closer she found herself suddenly all alone in the bed, her arms wrapped around a pillow. A soft scratching sound tickled her ears, and she blinked her eyes open to see where it was coming from. Peering out from behind her pillow she saw Morgan sitting behind her desk, writing. The captain had pulled a shirt on again, a fact that Allison found herself regretting, this one a white one that made the deep honey color of her skin show in stark comparison. Her skin still tingled from the effects of her dream, and looking across the room she could feel herself blushing furiously at its memory. Her skin felt tight and hot despite the fact that she could feel cool air on her thighs and hips. She watched as Morgan set her quill down and leaned on her elbow, her eyes flicking back and forth over the pages before her. Nodding to her herself she closed the log and tucked it away, glancing up at the bed as she closed the drawer. Allison's breath caught in her throat when Morgan's met hers, and she waited for a repeat of the confrontation earlier. Morgan cocked her head a little, her blue eyes staring into hers, before she spoke.
"Please forgive me for my behavior this morning, Allison," The huskiness of Morgan's voice pulled at Allison's heart and she pushed herself upright in the bed.
"There's nothing to forgive, Cap-Morgan," Allison replied, her voice rough with sleep. "I can completely understand you thinking that the crew from the ship would try to warn me."
"So they didn't try to warn you about me?" Allison watched as Morgan's eyes slowly slid away from hers to follow the curve of her shoulder as it peeked out from the neckline of her shirt. Her stomach tightened up in reaction as Morgan's eyes went smoky.
"Oh, yes, they certainly did try to warn me that my ...innocence was not safe in your cabin," Allison responded, letting her voice warm. Morgan quirked an eyebrow at her, got up and walked around the desk. She offered a hand to help Allison out of the bed. Allison took it and stepped down.
"Hmmm.
