A Heart's Masquerade by Deborah Simmons Page B

spoke softly, as if forgetting Cat’s presence, but then he looked down at her, his brow lifted. "And I think I’ve given you more than your fill of answers for one day, my lad."
    Recognizing the dismissal in his tone, Cat hurried off. Although she could not like what she'd heard, the fact that he’d shared such personal information with her made her steps - and heart - lighter.
    ***
    Cat tossed and turned in her hammock, assailed by thoughts of her captain. Finally, she flipped onto her back, opened her eyes, and listened for Ransom’s steady breathing. By the silence, she knew he was not in his bed. Sighing into the darkness, she crossed her hands behind her head.
    If this was love, why did all the poets aspire to it? Ever since her self-discovery, Cat’s emotions had been tossed about like flotsam on the waves, sudden elation swiftly turning to gloom. And she was beginning to get seasick. How on earth had matters come to such a pass?
    It had all started after the visit to Tortola. That’s when Ransom had slipped into her nightly dreams. Cat dismissed them, for she had no control over what went on in her head while she slept. Then the visions sneaked into her daylight hours, and she found herself imagining what would happen if she threw her arms around him or how it would feel to kiss him.
    These were dangerous notions, Cat knew, and her healthy instinct for self-preservation beat back her lovesickness. But still, the images came, unbidden.
    Surely he cares for me, Cat told herself in the darkness. What if I confessed all? You might be thrown to the sharks , she answered. And with a grimace, she rolled from the hammock.
    On deck she spoke briefly to the watch before walking to the bulwark, where she propped her elbows and took in the glorious night. The moon was a shining sliver, and the bright stars seemed endless, while the rest of the world faded to black. The roar of the sea, the groan of the timbers, and the flap of the sails sounded eerie in the darkness.
    "Beautiful, isn’t it?"
    Warm flooded her chest at the sound of the captain’s familiar deep voice. She sensed him nearby, and a shiver danced up her neck. But she only grunted. "Aye."
    "This is one of the reasons I stay at sea," he said, leaning into the rail. The two stood in silence for some time before Cat finally spoke.
    "What are the other reasons?" she asked. She felt, rather than saw, him shrug beside her as they faced the ocean.
    "It’s an honest fight," he said softly. "Can you understand that, little Cat?"
    "I think so, captain." Cat paused, carefully choosing her words before she continued. "The ocean’s not for you or against you. She’s just there."
    "Very good, lad," he said. "It’s all a fight, one way or the other, but out here, the fight is more elemental."
    Cat stood quietly staring into the night until she was struck by a sudden bolt of insight. "You don’t have a very high opinion of people, do you?" she asked.
    For a moment, she thought the captain had taken offense at her comment, but then she heard his low chuckle.
    "I’ll admit there are few in this world who win my respect," he said, wryly. "Take a lesson from me: you come into this world alone and leave it the same way, and the only one you can count on in between is yourself."
    Cat, ever optimistic, found his philosophy depressing, and she frowned down at the wood beneath her fingers. "Have you no family, sir? No desire to have babes of your own?" she asked, a lump lodging in her throat.
    She felt him stiffen in response. "No. I have no family, and I've learned not to grow too attached to anything or anyone."
    Cat turned only to see his dark figure striding away. Hurt at his rebuke, she wanted to call him back, to argue with him. But instead she tore her gaze away and blinked at the moon, disillusioned.
    Although she’d never thought it out coherently, in the back of her mind she had harbored the fantasy that somehow, someday, she would blossom into a beautiful woman, Ransom