Patrick clutched her bundle of belongings in both hands and tipped her head all the way back, looking up at the father she’d only met a handful of times. Captain Patty O’Tier was scowling, but the younger Patrick wasn’t frightened. She remembered well his jolly laugh and gentle hugs.
“Where’s yer mam?” he demanded, snatching the scrap of paper she held out to him. She watched his eyes open wide before his eyebrows dropped low and his scowl returned. O’Tier shoved the letter into his pocket. “Yer now a pirate, Pat. Come.”
Spinning on his heel, her father headed back down the beach to the boats, his long coat swinging out behind him. Patrick’s feet slipped sideways in the sand as she hurried to keep up.
“I’ll not be waiting all day!” her father called back when he’d reached the water. Patrick dutifully broke into a run, but her foot slipped again and she tipped precariously to the right. She instinctively dropped her bundle, throwing her hands out to break her fall. Sand covered her chubby arms up to her elbows.
Patrick stayed on her stomach, spitting out the sand from her mouth. Her heart fell when she noticed her father’s feet running toward her. A pirate did not need help to walk. Hastily, she jumped to her feet, gathered her belongings, and walked past her father with all the dignity she could muster.
O’Tier chuckled, lightly brushing the sand from her hair as she went by. “Ya’ll be having trouble finding yer sea legs, son, if ya cannot be staying upright on land.”
It seemed her mam was right; her father still thought her a boy. Her mam had also warned to her to never let any of the men discover the truth of her sex, though Patrick didn’t understand why. Her nostrils flared. She hated following rules when she didn’t know the reason.
Patrick slapped the hand away from her head and kept walking. “Damn ya to hell, ya bloody worthless blighter. May the Devil’s cat be eating ya and his feckin’ dog be burying yer bones.”
Her father’s resulting laugh seemed to shake the ground beneath her feet. From the sash at her waist, Patrick pulled the small pistol he’d sent her for her last birthday and aimed it directly at the man guarding the boats. Since her eyes were level with his cock, that is where the she pointed the barrel. “Step aside or I’ll be shooting ya.”
The man leaped to his left with satisfying speed amid loud guffaws from his companions. Patrick stowed her pistol and tossed her bundle into the first boat, climbing in after it. She settled herself in the bow and waited.
“My son, Pat,” her father announced to the group at large, clapping her on the shoulder. “He’ll be making a fine addition to the crew, I’m thinking. It seems he’s already knowing how to be cursing with the best of us and is he not after proving he’s got more balls than Sky, here.” Patrick’s chest puffed out with pride as her father took the seat facing her. The laughter fell from his eyes. “I’m sorry about yer mam, boy,” he whispered, picking up one of the oars and thrusting it into the waves.
Both father and daughter blinked away tears as they left the beach behind.
The End
***Little Patrick is all grown up and it’s time for her to take her first command in Hard to Starboard.***
