Captain Playing Doctor

Six men, four four of them are Dutch ship crew members that she recognised, lay on cot, and the two pirate held the gallant Dutch Captain stretched on a cot, and a tall pirate Captain loomed over him. Already liberally spattered with blood and with one large smear on his cheek, Captain Fortune held a grizzly saw in one hand, a bottle of brandy in the other hand. There was a grim set to his lips, and the setting sun added a bloody red cast to the scene.

Her hands flew to her face. So strongly was she expecting to see a horrible scene of debauchery and torture, and so strongly did the scene fit her expectations that she almost screamed.

But there was a familiarity about the scenes. Rolls is bandages lay beside the Dutchman and on a nearby table, a surgical instruments were neatly laid out. The saw the tall pirate Captain held was from a doctor's kit, the brandy a means to ease the pain of the wounded. The blue eyes that lifted from his work to meet hers were clear and sober as her own. This was no torture chamber but a place for the wounded, both the Dutch and the pirate, from the battle.

For a moment she slumped against the door with relief. Even trembling with fear, she had been determined to try to stop the pirate's from torturing the Dutch crew members, even though she knew how important one woman powerless could be. But this was a different situation entirely from what she was expecting. A situation with which she had la long standing familiarity and in which she felt eminent confident. The saw meant someone needed amputation and she moved closer to examine the general situation.

It was the Dutch Captain, Captain Van Doorn. His arm was stretched out and badly wounded, the bone broken just above the wrist. A tourniquet has staunched the worst of the blood flow but the flesh was badly mangled. Sweats beaded Van Doorn's brows and though he had already been giving a liberal dose of the brandy, his eyes focused on her and he smiled weakly.

" This is no place for you," Captain Fortune snapped at her. Go back to the cabin.

She ignored his crisp command , though it was difficult not to hesitate beneath his uncompromising glare. Taking a fresh towel from a pile to wrap around her, she advanced to the cot. She was quite used to ordering men around in the surgery and to ignoring well intentioned, but misplaced commands, even from field commanders and generals in the army. Then why were her hands trembling so much that it was hard to tie a towel around her waist? Was it because she knew she was pirates prisoner, and could not expect the gentlemanly respect she was usually afforded? She drew a deep breath and took refuge in the knowledge that Jeffrey Fortune may be qualified to lead a scurvy crew of ruffians into battle but she doubted that he could equal her expertise in the treatment of battle wounds. I'm not squeamish, Captain Fortune. And I won't faint. If you will move aside, I will like to see if I can save Captain Van Doorn's arm. A trace of amusement crept into his cool blue eyes. But the trim, dark haired young woman with snapping blue eyes, standing there so quietly confident, made him hesitate uncertainly.

With difficult, she kept her gaze steady, though she had never before had trouble in meeting a man head on. Was it because her captor was tall, seeming to tower over her? She forced herself to hold up her head, to meet those cool, appraising eyes with her own as she said, " My father was an army surgeon, Captain Fortune. From the time my mother died when I was eight years old, I was his assistant. We were no stranger to battlefields and I have set many bones and sewed many a gnash. I may never studied formally, but I assure you that I am quite competent and there is no need to amputate Captain Van Doorn's arm.

The pirate Captain turned and asked a silent question to Captain Van Doorn.

Let miss Winthrop try, Captain Fortune. His voice was strained, hoarse whisper. " I don't think I will be much good without my arm. And I have a reason to trust the lady's medical skills."

With a last scrutiny that seems to penetrate the very marrow of her bones, Captain Fortune nodded and stepped back to allow her access to the patient. It was narrow between cots and her shoulder brushed against his chest as she passed, arousing within her the memory of being held against that rock hardness, of the safety and comfort she had felt there. But there could be no safety or comfort for her in the arms of Jeffrey Fortune, she reminded herself. Straightened her back to avoid any further contact, she edged into place beside the cot to examine the wounded Captain.