Bound by the Buccaneer Read Online Free

frightened of the enormous man who had such proficiency with a hatchet. But she would never forget her initial terror at watching him in battle. Over time she had grown fond of Hatch, and though she knew he’d never harm her, she was always mindful of what a fierce warrior he was.
    “I make necklaces,” he said showing her several loops of shells he’d strung around his neck.
    “Oh, those are beautiful!” she said.
    He lifted one of the necklaces over his head and draped it around Frederica’s neck. She felt her eyes round as she held out the tiny shells to get a better view. “Oh Hatch, how lovely. How did you make it?”
    He dipped a hand in his pocket and pulled out a handful of small shells, the majority of them oval-shaped, round and smooth on one side, but when you flipped them over the brown and white striped shells had a horizontal opening that looked like two lips with a purple slash down the middle.
    “What kind of shells are these?” Frederica asked.
    “Pretty ones?” he said with a shrug.
    She laughed. “I love them. But how did you make a necklace from them?”
    He pulled a roll of fishing line from his other pocket. “Sit. I will show you.” He motioned to a sand dune and they went and sat down on it.
    Hatch showed her how to take a sharp needle, which had been pinned to his pants leg, and pierce the shell. Then he showed her how to thread the shell onto the fishing line.
    Frederica tried, but could not get the piercing at first. She broke the first shell she attempted to spear and made a face.
    Hatch laughed. “You can do it. Must practice, missy.”
    With a sigh Frederica picked up another one and tried again. “How did you learn to do this?” she asked.
    “My sister. She was always making a chain of this or that. Daisies, buttons, whatever she found.”
    “I never knew you had a sister, Hatch. Where is she now?”
    In a fluid gesture he pointed at the sky.
    “She is no longer with us? You mean she’s dead?” Frederica asked, not bothering to hide the concern in her voice.
    Hatch nodded slowly and continued to work with his shells.
    Frederica laid the shell and needle on the sand next to her and looked at him, “What happened to her?”
    He waved her question away. “Missy don’t need to concern herself with that.”
    She realized Hatch knew a lot about her, but she knew next to nothing about him, and she pressed on. “Tell me.”
    He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “You are not going to leave this alone?”
    She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I’m not.”
    With a sigh, he began. “My sister and I were born on a sugar plantation.”
    “In Jamaica?”
    “Yes.”
    “I think Gaston mentioned that.”
    He nodded. “Our mother was a slave. She’d been captured somewhere in Africa and sent to Jamaica to work on a plantation. My father, he was an Arawak Indian, a tribe native to Jamaica. My mother fell in love with him when he came to barter with her owner.
    I do not think that my sister and I had same father. Her skin was lighter, but my mother never talked about it. When we were coming up I worked in the fields, and my sister, Hattie, she worked in the house. She was good with the white folks and they liked her.”
    Frederica nodded, encouraging him to continue.
    “A Spaniard and his wife owned the plantation until I was almost grown. Then the English conquered the island and all hell busted out. The Englishman who took over the plantation was an evil man. Our Spanish owner had always treated us well, but the new master was a bad man. He liked to abuse the slaves. We were used to much better care and this led to an uprising. I escaped, but my sister was killed.”
    Frederica’s heart clenched and sorrow welled up inside her. “Oh that’s terrible,” she said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
    Hatch nodded. “She was such a bright light, brought joy everywhere she went. A part of me died back there with her.”
    Frederica’s throat tightened. “What did you