The Emerald Tartan by Patricia McGrew

Author:Patricia McGrew [McGrew, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patricia S.Z. McGrew
Published: 2017-04-25T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Images of exotic coconut fronds and blue-green water with small white caps beckoned. This one dream should never be allowed to stop, mused Lydia. She just could not let herself wake up, even though she could feel someone tugging at her arm.

“Go away,” she mumbled softly. The tugging did not stop. In fact, it became more insistent. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Just let me sleep a little bit more. Then I’ll get up.”

“Lydia. Lydia. You must wake up.” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Who would have the audacity to take her away from such pleasant, warm thoughts and feelings?

She tried to roll over onto her side. Just as quickly as she had rolled over, someone rolled her onto her back again.

“Soon. This is such a good dream. Please, just a little more sleep.”

“Nay, Lydia. Now! Lassie. Wake up!

As much as she wanted to be angry, she also wanted to go back to sleep so the nagging pain at the back of her head would go away.

“All right! I’m up.” She attempted to throw back the covers and sit up all in one motion. As she swung her legs over the side of the bunk and pushed herself up, blackness and stars whirled past her eyes. Just as quickly, she felt strong support of arms holding her securely.

“Whoa, lass. I want you awake, but you need not bound out of bed quite so fast. You’ve had a nasty head wound, so you’re going to have to take it easy. Slow down a wee bit and take some deep breaths. Just let me hold you in an upright position for a few minutes, until the circulation returns to the rest of your body. There now, is that a bit better?”

“Good grief. What happened to me? I feel woozy.”

“Do you not remember?”

“Remember? Remember what?”

“Do you have any recollection of being on a ship?”

“Ian!” Lydia’s eyes struggled to fully open. His image was hazy at first, then gradually, she could see his warm hazel eyes looking back at her.

The words just poured out. “It is you! Oh Ian. I have ruined everything.” She rubbed her eyes and sat on the edge of the bunk, allowing bits and pieces of her memory to come together like a puzzle. “Wait a minute. Now I remember. When the crew got thrown in the brig, and Whittier put me in that closet, I thought I’d never see you again. It was all my fault. I am so sorry. The crew hates me. If it hadn’t been for me…”

“Lydia! Stop this nonsense. If it hadn’t been for you, none of us would be here right now! Don’t you remember any more details?”

She massaged her forehead and tried to recall what occurred.

“I remember finding a wooden mallet and crowbar in the closet. I don’t even remember how I got out of the closet. And then, I think I tried to open the door to the brig, but after that the picture gets fuzzy.”

“Well, there was nothing fuzzy about your efforts, that’s for sure! One of the mutineers came below deck.

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