Keep My Heart- 31

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"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."

-James A. Baldwin

Hey readers! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter!! I totally squealed while writing it! I'm sorry I haven't been faithful in updating, I've had a bit of writer's block. 

But, I am updating now! I would really appreciate some votes and comments! Also, a shout out to miss Bribelle! She's amazing! I was thinking of her today, and let me say- if you like historical fiction, go check out her ongoing series, which starts with Fight! It's one of the finalists in the Watty Awards! :) Go read it and vote!

Happy reading here!

Adam held his breathe, closing his eyes at the incessant hammering in his head. 

The sun blared on the waves on the sea off the shore of Mexico. There was suddenly a roaring among the other men, a loud instance of voices. They rushed across the deck, all to one side like a crowd of ants, and the great ship did not move beneath them at all. 

"It's flying an American flag!"

With that, the Commodore Kingsleigh barked, "Man the deck!"

He roared a few more things, but Adam felt his sickness gluing him to the fine wooden deck beneath his shining black Hessian boots supplied to him by the British navy. He felt the sun burning his scalp as he stood there, as the other men began to systematically hurry about the ship.

The sun glittered off the ocean water, bright, not yellow, but an illustrious and nameless color. He did not avert his eyes, but stared only at the ship. He knew he must be moving, he must defend the country to which he was grateful- the country which had, in due time, supplied his lovely wife. Incidentally, it was this same country that had protected him for her.

Th enemy ship inched forward, flying it's American flag- in a manner that he supposed, to the British men on this ship, was audacious and ostentatious and challenging. But he saw it, watched it, and the manner it flew, so liberating, gave him a strength that ascended from a recondite plaza in him.

There was an entity about this coming ship that was so strangely unusual.

And for a very long moment, as the ship loomed closer, in his state of illness, he could only watch, pondering his mind for the answer as to why this American ship stood-

He recognized it, in a docile quietness. The Sun Goddess.

It was as regal as the day he had seen it last, as he had rowed away to an island.

In a moment, he was mobile. He strode across the deck, long legs carrying him gracefully, with a divine purpose, to the place where the imperial Commodore Kingsleigh stood, ever tranquil and without a trace of worry. He knew, doubtlessly, that they escape victoriously from this scrap. He knew, obviously, from his chilly eyes, that every remnant of the enemy ship would be nothing but floating toothpicks in the Gulf of Mexico.

His mind screamed, no. If he lost the Sun Goddess again, everything representing what he had worked for, was gone. He could not risk that. He could not risk it. He rushed, before they destroyed his ship. And he would regain control, of his ship, and he would go home to his wife. He would return where he was needed.

He wasn't certain how he would do it. But he would. Something told him, it would happen.

This was the most inopportune blessing of her life. 

The priest, who also practiced as a physician, had performed the examination, and confirmed to her what she had thought.

Indeed, she was expecting a child. He said, according to the examination, that her pregnancy was still very early, and that her baby should be born in autumn, most likely in September. She could hardly believe it. In fact, she was in denial for the first few hours.

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