Saving The Pirate (Book Two)

43. A Changed Man's Christmas Feast

I wish I could tell you that I didn't care, but I did.

I wish I could tell you that I was capable of holding in my emotions and that I made it through the night without a single tear, but I didn't.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I held my face to my pillow and balled my eyes out. I couldn't stop myself, and I bet every bastard on that ship heard me. I bet Captain did too, but that next morning, I acted as if it never happened.

I put back on my mask.

The next morning, I dressed, made my bed, and walked out of that room and into the gallery with a brave face, no tears, and no quivering lips. I was Anne Rachels, an independent woman that didn't need anyone.

I got started on breakfast, making something easy, and called for the crew, who were instantly at the door, waiting for their order to come in. I proudly stepped aside.

"Have at it, boys!" I exclaimed and watched as the men filed in, grabbing plates and getting their fill.

I kept my eye on the line, looking for a particular someone whom I did not see, and when it came to Tristan (with Gata in his arms), who was at the back of the line, I gave up my search and smiled at them, wishing them a good morning.

"Ye seem oddly cheerful today," he said with a curious look. I reached out my hand to scratch behind Gata's ears.

"I guess it's that kind of morning, you know?" I said. Tristan laughed and put down Gata, who walked around between my legs, purring and rubbing her head against me. I smiled and grabbed the bowl of milk I had for her.

"Here you are, girl," I said and led her to the spot near the door where I kept her water bowl. I placed the bowl down and watched as she happily drank her milk.

Just at that moment, Captain showed up, and I froze, looking him over. Not only did he have bags under his eyes, but he was smiling like he was happy to be back from wherever he came.

And I would be lying if I said it didn't piss me off a bit.

He walked into the room, stepping on Gata's tail, who hissed in return. "Move it, fleabag," he snapped and watched as she scattered from beneath him and to Tristan, who picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

I scowled, but he ignored Tristan and me, walking to the food and grabbing a serving for himself. He then found an empty seat and plopped down in it, putting his feet up on the table as he had his meal in his lap.

"Morning, men," Captain said, looking about the room. "And Happy Christmas."

Christmas. I forgot it was Christmas.

The room snickered with the hearing of the holiday, and Captain took it all in, a great big smile on his face.

"Unfortunately, boys, I have already given you your presents, but Miss Rachels hasn't. Has she?" He then looked at me and rose a brow like he was daring me to do something.

What was he playing?

"So tonight, boys, she will be preparing you a feast," he said. He winked at me. "A Christmas to remember."

***

Christmas was supposed to be the time for merriment, and it was if you weren't the ones who had to cook everything for a bunch of men that ate like a pack of wolves.

I think you see where this is going.

I slaved away at the kitchen all day, silently cursing to myself as I had already burned myself for the fourth time trying to cook the salted turkey. It was no easy task; let me tell you.