Read Caution to the Wind for Free Online

She couldn’t make out the words, but they were reminiscent of the Gaelic she sometimes heard the Irish immigrants use on market day. Still, a curse sounded like a curse in any tongue. She didn’t need to understand the words to recognize an oath.
    Amanda shuffled toward the galley, gripping the heavy bucket with both hands. Tendrils of gray smoke snaked about the edges of the open galley door. A man wrapped in an apron that might have been white at one time, waved a towel toward the galley as though he meant to extinguish the fire with the breeze. Amanda shoved him aside, bringing more strangled oaths, this time directed at her. She ignored them and squinted into the smoke-filled room. Coughing, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand to keep the soot out of her lungs.
    A small flame licked around the sides of a blackened pan set on the edge of the stove. The contents within emitted a steady stream of noxious fumes. Amanda marched forward, heaved her bucket of seawater over the stove and emptied it into the pan.
    “Now what in the hell do you think you’re doin’, laddie!” The cook grabbed her shoulder and shoved her away from his stove.
    The force of his shove spun Amanda toward the door, and she stumbled. She reached out through the smoke, grasping for something, anything, to steady herself. Her fingers found stiff wool laid over a unyielding frame. She grabbed a fistful in both hands.
    Blinking to clear her vision, she stared at the fabric she held. Blue wool. A man’s coat?
    “Ahem.”
    The sound of someone clearing his throat came from in front of her, right in front of her. She had felt the rumble beneath her balled hands. Eyes burning and tears blurring her vision, she raised her chin to find a hard face just inches from her own. Amanda dropped the wool as though it burned.
    “That’s just what I want to know.” The captain’s golden eyes demanded an explanation.
    Her heart beat like a caged bird while she searched for the words to clarify the situation. Even if he hadn’t seen her dump water on the fire to save his ship, surely he could smell the smoke. Did he think she had caused the fire?
    Amanda opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the cook spoke up again.
    “Here I was, sir, cookin’ your breakfast, and this boy comes in here and dumps his bucket of dirty water on it.” He pouted and wrung his apron between fleshy hands.
    The captain reached around Amanda and yanked a towel off a hook on the wall. He wrapped it around his hand and pulled the hot pan off the stove. Frowning, he looked at the charred, wet remains of his breakfast. The blackened eggs had disintegrated and floated on the surface of the greasy water like a pair of charcoal dumplings.
    “And I was so looking forward to breakfast,” the captain said, staring at the unidentifiable remains.
    Amanda’s stomach churned. Even if his ship hadn’t been in any real danger, he would not have emerged unscathed if he had eaten those eggs.
    The captain leveled his gaze at her. “So what are you going to do about my breakfast, boy?”
    What did he expect her to say?
    Her heart threatening to break free of its prison, she suggested the only thing she could think of. “Make it for you?”
    The captain stilled for a moment, then gave her a look that made her knees tremble. Had her suggestion given her away?
    “You can cook?”
    His question did much to explain away the speculative look on his face, and Amanda’s heart slowed its frantic pace.
    “Well, a little bit, sir.” Her voice cracked on the last note.
    He folded his arms over his chest, and she shifted her stance from one foot to the other under the heavy weight of his gaze. Silence filled the small room, and he seemed to be waiting for an explanation. Amanda improvised again.
    “You see,” she licked her dry lips and did her best to control her wavering voice, “my mother wanted a daughter, but she never got one. I guess she figured I would do, so she taught