Back at Red's beach

The sail back was made at a more leisurely pace, Cindy no longer driving the skiff to reach its limits of performance, but even so, the afternoon sea breeze filled the sails nicely and they made good time. Brenan spent most of the trip describing the schooner he bought to Cindy between sloppy slurps of the sea apple. The fruits were at least 60% juice, each one had so much cool fluid encased in their tough green skin that sailors stranded on waterless sandbars were able to survive for weeks by diving for the nourishing fruit.

Brenan found that talking about his plans for the boat was far easier than any of the previous topics and by the time Cindy ran the skiff neatly up on the beach right at Red’s feet he found himself arguing with her about the advisability of changing the square topsails for more of the headwind friendly lateen rig.

“I see she met with your satisfaction.” Red’s voice felt cool and her face lacked the hint of smile that he had seen when they had spoken earlier.

“You were right about her Red!” Brenan told her as he jumped from the skiff eager to help pull the boat up the runners to its sheltered spot. “She’s got as much potential as any shiphand I’ve sailed with; she’ll make a fine addition to our crew.”

“Your crew Brenan.” Red responded flatly “I can’t accept your offer. You’ll look after her fine.” Turning away from the two startled faces, Red strode back most of the way to the cottage before turning and yelling back. “You can spend the night, if you don’t mind sleeping on the deck, but you’d best be leaving early in the morning so you can get back to town and find yourself the rest of your crew.”

“What’s eating her?” Brenan asked Cindy as he watched Red’s slam the cottage door behind her as she disappeared from his view. Even when she was angry there was something about the way red moved that appealed to Brenan.

“I think I might know - Captain Kilgore” Cindy hesitated for just a second as she used Brenan’s full name and title for the first time. “Can you finish up here while I go see if I can talk some sense into her?” He nodded silently in agreement and wondered why he wanted Red so badly to be his first officer. Women in general were a mystery to him, and Red seemed more complex than the fanciest Cryn puzzle boxes that he occasionally picked up in curio shops.

Cindy, he realized he could understand. Maybe it was because of the shared experience of being alone and unloved at the age of fourteen, or maybe because Cindy had all the best characteristics of her aunt, but for whatever reason the past hour spent with the blonde beauty was the most time he had ever spent alone with a woman that hadn’t involved sex. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, two simultaneous ideas fought for his attention. One was the memory of Cindy, her wet hair slicked back on her head and naked shoulders, as she licked the sea cock provocatively offering her toned body to him to sample. Two was the conclusion that Red must have made when the two of them sailed back to the beach laughing together with Cindy wearing his jacket over her naked torso.

“God I’m an idiot.” He murmured “A flapping dick brain with no more sense than one of the sea cocks that I have been so contentedly chewing on.” Brenan could, if need be, continue along this vein for as long as needed as he berated a crewman’s sloppy seamanship or clumsy attempts to board a prize. But the words failed him when he tried to describe to himself how badly he had played this particular hand of cards that fate had dealt him.

He should go explain to Red that nothing had happened, or maybe let Cindy try first. Brenan found himself wavering in indecision as he looked up at the cottage imagining what was being said behind the thick masonry walls.