Dove Island



  Dove Island

  By:

  Miss Mae

  Dove Island

  ISBN: 978-1-4523-1277-4

  Copyright 2017 by Miss Mae

  Cover Art by Miss Mae

 

  Dove Island, by Miss Mae is a work of fiction and is not a full-length book. It’s offered freely as a sample of her work to highlight the action, excitement, and intrigue that is a hallmark of her writing style and showcased in the pages of her award winning romantic mysteries.

  Though some actual towns, cities, and locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Any similarities of characters or names used within to any person past, present, or future is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Brief quotations may be embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  My books are also in print and slowly coming to audio. Catch Me If You Can is now available in audio produced by Roger Rittner Productions, using some of Hollywood’s best voice actors/actresses. You need to get the audio to experience this story at its finest. More information at the back of this ebook. (Percentage of sales donated to animal rescue and care.)

  ****

  His legs fighting the swirling current, he clawed at the floating wreckage to pull himself atop. A wave tossed the wooden crate almost upright, and he clung, barnacle-fast, to the knotted rope wrapped about the highest rung. As his newly acquired raft splashed back into the swell, saltwater stung his eyes, soaking his already drenched body. Flinging hair from his face, he reached for a loosened board and laying flat on his stomach, he used the makeshift oar to paddle from the sinking ship.

  Foam churned around the massive vessel as the once mighty warrior slid, heaving and groaning, to its watery grave. The whirlpool’s suction grabbed the closest victims, screams ripping from their throats before they plunged into the merciless vortex.

  Riding the cresting waves, he squinted against the stinging spray, searching the drifting, lifeless bodies. Fear worried his heart. If he couldn’t find her, he swore he’d pitch himself to the bottom of the ocean and join her in blissful eternity.

  Sunlight glinted red against the water and he peered for a closer look. Recognizing the stream as one not of blood, but of shimmering tendrils of fiery hair, he quickly maneuvered his raft and extended a helping hand.

  Her sodden skirts weighed her down like an anchor. Though she clutched at a half-filled bucket, her head slipped beneath the surface. Quickly, he clenched a fistful of hair and pulled her face free. He dared to extend his chest halfway off the raft, reaching out to slip his arms beneath her shoulders and drag her aboard. With a feeble pant, she collapsed, only the frantic beating at the base of her throat assuring him she still lived.

  He steered in the direction of the open sea, but a familiar sight caused his blood to run cold. The approaching dorsal fin signaled the imminent attack of a hunting shark.

  Swiftly, he aimed the fragile platform to the other side. But the bump that shuddered his little barrier told him that the shark knew he lived. As he watched the fin advance on a return swim, the man clenched one end of his paddle and rapped the other heavily on the creature’s head. The predator darted away, but not before its flicking tail struck his float, almost tipping it over.

  Breathing through chattering teeth, he gripped his weapon and waited. Three more dorsal fins headed toward him. He closed his mind to the terror of the predators’ jaws and hunched on his knees, tightening his hands round the club. That’s when he saw it. A rusted nail twisted from the splintered corner. As one of the monsters reached within range, he attacked, raking the nail the length of the inverted V. A red ribbon streamed behind the departing silver back. Encouraged, the man struck again quickly, slicing open the waving tail.

  Enticed by the blood scent of their comrade’s injuries, the other sharks attacked. Their feeding frenzy agitated the water, a deep scarlet coloring the foamy waves.

  The man paddled swiftly, expelling a shaky sigh of relief as he left the view of the dorsal fins farther behind. Gradually, the waves smoothed to a flattened plane that mirrored the sun’s rays. He shrugged off his coat and draped it protectively over the sleeping woman’s face. Lying beside her, he closed his eyes against the burning glare and yielded to overwhelming fatigue. How long they traveled in the baking heat he didn’t know. It took the cry of a sea gull to rouse him. Blinking groggily, he peered across the water, scrutinizing the squiggly outline before him. Hope swelled in his heart as the beckoning roar of a surf affirmed that he neared land.

  The woman stirred and pushed his coat off her cheek. With a start, she gazed up at him, a thousand questions rounding her eyes.

  “Hang on as best you can,” he instructed. “The current may be strong.” He picked up the paddle and steered the raft into the incoming waves. As he’d feared, under duress of the crashing blows, the waterlogged boards separated from the loosened rope. Before he could yell a warning, they split apart. He dropped like a cannon ball into the ocean’s depths. With a swift kick, he spurt upward. When his head broke through, he gulped a big breath of air and thrashed about, sweeping his searching gaze in every direction. Like a cork, she bobbed beside him. He latched onto her arm, heading them both into the foam. The current beat him back, his heavy arms straining with each stroke. Exhausted, he slipped beneath the water and his bare feet touched earth.

  Excruciating pain shot him upright. Numbing his mind to the torture, he picked her up and carried her, limping across the coral’s razor sharp edges. When he reached the hot sand, he collapsed to his knees and doubled over. She clutched his shirt and pulled him down with her where they both lay, spent and motionless. Sand pasted to his skin and glued to his mouth as he swallowed gulps of air. The surf’s strong breeze aided the sun to dry his burned skin and torn, bleeding body.

  Slowly, he rolled onto his back. Overhead, thick green fronds stretched across the sky, shading him. Large, multi-colorful birds squawked from lofty branches. He dug his fingers into the warm sand, balling his fist. The gritty granules that scratched his palm confirmed it: they’d made it ashore.

  Sending up a prayer of thanks, he turned his head. The woman watched him, a dazed expression on her face.

  “Roxanne.” Though hoarse, his voice sounded like his. “We have been spared.”

  She worked her mouth before managing a dry whisper. “Where do you think we are?”

  “I don’t know. But God has allowed us to be together.” He held her gaze, wanting her to understand his meaning.

  She looked away. “The pirates – they killed John.”

  “Yes.”

  “Will they search for us?”

  “Their ship sank as well.”

  “Oh.” Wincing, she pushed to an elbow. Her gaze riveted to the collar circling his throat. “Why were you on board?”

  He wondered how much to reveal, but then knew he would hide nothing. “John thought it would be amusing for me to perform your wedding.”

  Her green eyes stared into his. “Did you not agree to it?”

  “No.” Sliding his hand over the sand, he curled his fingers over hers. “Do you think I could marry my cousin to the woman who stole my heart?”

  Beneath her sunburn, her cheeks reddened more. “You are a priest. You can’t have feelings—”

  “I am a man, Roxanne.” He raised himself beside her. She made as though to draw away, but he tightened his hold on her hand. “Three months ago, after I met you, I knew I couldn’t complete my vows.”

  Her lips parted, the breeze blowing tendrils of half-dry hair across her mouth. He went on, “All the offici
al papers have been signed, releasing me. I am free to love. If—?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I only agreed to wed John because I had no hope of having you. Oh, Christopher.” She leaned towards him, a sob in her voice. “Is it possible?”

  He glanced at their surroundings, the lush green of the jungle and the white surf pounding the beach. He gave her a gentle smile.

  “If we find there is no civilization here and that you and I are the only two humans, I’m qualified to carry out the rites. We can become man and wife.”

  She gave a slow, understanding nod. “It’d be almost like Eden.”

  “Dearest.” With sand-sprinkled fingers, he brushed her tousled strand behind her ear. “Doesn’t God work in mysterious ways?”

  A movement in the treetops caught his eye. He glanced up, spotting one lone white bird sitting on a branch directly above. The dove cocked its head, cooed approvingly, and took flight, soaring into the sky.