knife. When she’d finished with that task, she’d have to gut and fillet the creature. Would she ever want to have fish for dinner again? she wondered, frowning down at the silvery contents of the bucket. Lars’s beans certainly smelled better at the moment.
Standing at the stove, the old man was busy overcooking a boiling pot of mixed red and black beans while he took swigs from a cheap bottle of rum. A pan of mushy white rice sat on the back burner. As far as Caitlin could tell, Lars hadn’t added pepper, salt, or any other seasoning to either dish.
No wonder the crew was unhappy with the meals. Only Thomas had spoken up at lunch, however. For a pirate crew the men were amazingly quiet and well mannered. Although they’d given her a few curious glances, none of the men had made any of the raucous, bawdy remarks she’d expect of criminals.
But then, their captain may have warned them away from her. Gritting her teeth when she thought about Bryce, Caitlin scraped even harder at the fish she held. Too bad there wasn’t any poison around. Imagining herself as a Mata Hari character again, Caitlin visualized mixing arsenic into the captain’s food. Then, when he was dying—probably in her arms—Caitlin would tell him her only sorrow was that he’d been so handsome.
“Hey, watch the weapons!” grumbled Lars, awakening her from her daydream. “What are you planning to do—scalp that fish down to its bones?” Startled, Caitlin looked down at the mess she’d made by not paying attention to her task.
“Give that one to Calico Jack. He’s not particular. And since we’ve got enough fish for tonight, I’ll throw the rest overboard. Fish, wish, they slide off their dish…and a yo ho ho…”
“What shall I do next?” Caitlin asked after washing her hands thoroughly at the sink.
“You can help me cook, I guess.”
“Would you like me to mix some seasoning into the rice or the beans?”
“Seasoning? What do you want to do that for?”
“Seasoning makes food taste better,” Caitlin told the old man, and-then wondered if she were insulting him. “Not that your cuisine isn’t already excellent, I’m sure.”
“Do what you want. I’ve got plenty of bottles and cans of stuff around here.” Lars took another swig from his bottle. “Want some rum? It’ll make you relax. One time I gave it to Captain Flint to make her settle down.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather have a drink some other time,” Caitlin said, opening cupboard doors. Soon she’d found black pepper, dried red pepper, jalapenos, onions, and a variety of spices. Wondering what seasoning mixture would be best with beans or rice, she came up with a great idea. “Does Captain Winslow like hot, spicy food?” she asked Lars.
“Hot and spicy? I don’t know.”
“I think he should try it,” said Caitlin with a wicked grin. But how was she going to flavor the captain’s food without changing the taste for all the rest of the crew? “Do you fix a separate plate for the captain?” she asked hopefully.
“Sometimes he eats in his quarters, but of late he’s been sitting down with the crew. He likes to talk to his men and help himself out of the pot like everyone else.” Lars frowned. “You know, missy, I heard the talk before, and there aren’t any real thieves or murderers around here. Captain Winslow wouldn’t allow it. Why, he’s one of the best men I’ve ever served. And I’ve been a sailor for sixty years.” When Caitlin was silent, Lars continued, “See these tattoos? I got them in all the ports of the world. I’ve seen a pack of humans, and I surely know the good ones when I see them. You’re lucky Captain Winslow got a hold of you off that cabin cruiser. You were in with the wrong people.”
Lars began singing again in earnest, slowly dancing around the galley with a broom as he swept the floor. After removing the bean pot from the heat, Caitlin mixed salt and cayenne and black pepper to its contents, then added
Standing at the stove, the old man was busy overcooking a boiling pot of mixed red and black beans while he took swigs from a cheap bottle of rum. A pan of mushy white rice sat on the back burner. As far as Caitlin could tell, Lars hadn’t added pepper, salt, or any other seasoning to either dish.
No wonder the crew was unhappy with the meals. Only Thomas had spoken up at lunch, however. For a pirate crew the men were amazingly quiet and well mannered. Although they’d given her a few curious glances, none of the men had made any of the raucous, bawdy remarks she’d expect of criminals.
But then, their captain may have warned them away from her. Gritting her teeth when she thought about Bryce, Caitlin scraped even harder at the fish she held. Too bad there wasn’t any poison around. Imagining herself as a Mata Hari character again, Caitlin visualized mixing arsenic into the captain’s food. Then, when he was dying—probably in her arms—Caitlin would tell him her only sorrow was that he’d been so handsome.
“Hey, watch the weapons!” grumbled Lars, awakening her from her daydream. “What are you planning to do—scalp that fish down to its bones?” Startled, Caitlin looked down at the mess she’d made by not paying attention to her task.
“Give that one to Calico Jack. He’s not particular. And since we’ve got enough fish for tonight, I’ll throw the rest overboard. Fish, wish, they slide off their dish…and a yo ho ho…”
“What shall I do next?” Caitlin asked after washing her hands thoroughly at the sink.
“You can help me cook, I guess.”
“Would you like me to mix some seasoning into the rice or the beans?”
“Seasoning? What do you want to do that for?”
“Seasoning makes food taste better,” Caitlin told the old man, and-then wondered if she were insulting him. “Not that your cuisine isn’t already excellent, I’m sure.”
“Do what you want. I’ve got plenty of bottles and cans of stuff around here.” Lars took another swig from his bottle. “Want some rum? It’ll make you relax. One time I gave it to Captain Flint to make her settle down.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather have a drink some other time,” Caitlin said, opening cupboard doors. Soon she’d found black pepper, dried red pepper, jalapenos, onions, and a variety of spices. Wondering what seasoning mixture would be best with beans or rice, she came up with a great idea. “Does Captain Winslow like hot, spicy food?” she asked Lars.
“Hot and spicy? I don’t know.”
“I think he should try it,” said Caitlin with a wicked grin. But how was she going to flavor the captain’s food without changing the taste for all the rest of the crew? “Do you fix a separate plate for the captain?” she asked hopefully.
“Sometimes he eats in his quarters, but of late he’s been sitting down with the crew. He likes to talk to his men and help himself out of the pot like everyone else.” Lars frowned. “You know, missy, I heard the talk before, and there aren’t any real thieves or murderers around here. Captain Winslow wouldn’t allow it. Why, he’s one of the best men I’ve ever served. And I’ve been a sailor for sixty years.” When Caitlin was silent, Lars continued, “See these tattoos? I got them in all the ports of the world. I’ve seen a pack of humans, and I surely know the good ones when I see them. You’re lucky Captain Winslow got a hold of you off that cabin cruiser. You were in with the wrong people.”
Lars began singing again in earnest, slowly dancing around the galley with a broom as he swept the floor. After removing the bean pot from the heat, Caitlin mixed salt and cayenne and black pepper to its contents, then added
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