It was her own fault, Trixie decided. If only she'd stood up to her mother and refused to cut Bobby's meat for him until he went away to school, this never would have happened. An inability to stand on his own two feet and a resentment of all those who could seemed to be the root of this fresh evil, after all.

But as she glared at the agonized, cherubic face of her youngest brother she felt her heart soften, as it always did.

"I gather that's your brother Bobby," Dan said, joining her in staring at the gangly young man stumbling across the deck toward Roberts. He was taller than she remembered and his face had lost most of the baby fat that had plagued him well into his teens, but he still retained the boyish charm that had saved him from his endless scrapes. She rather doubted, however, that it would do him any good in the current situation. Roberts did not appear to be a man swayed by round baby blue eyes.

"Yes," Trixie sighed. "That's him."

"Ye had to ask?" Esau chided. "They're as alike as two peas in a pod!" At Trixie's outraged "hmph" he hastened to clarify his statement. "Only yer much prettier," he said, wisely backing two paces away.

"It's fine," Trixie muttered, knowing that it was pointless to take offense. She'd spent years fielding comments about the family traits of blond curls and blue eyes. "But you ought to see me with my almost-twin brother."

Esau made a face that would have sent her into gales of laughter at any other time. As she watched Bobby take his place beside the pirate captain, however, all she could do was remember the little boy who had tugged at her skirts, begging to be included in her adventures with Jim.

Well, he was definitely included this time, she thought with a grimace. Though she had no doubt that they would all come to regret it.

"But what is he doing?" Dan asked, even though he'd voiced the same question several times in the last few minutes without receiving an answer.

Trixie shrugged helplessly and pressed her lips together, willing their ship to edge closer to the vessel carrying Bobby. The men at the oars, however, seemed unable to budge the craft no matter how much they sweated and groaned. Was it an effect of being trapped in the Pool? Trixie wondered. Because if so, their chances of escape were severely diminished, no matter what the outcome with the pirates and the French captain.

"Enough!" Jacobs called, giving voice to Trixie's thoughts. "We haven't all day."

Once again, Trixie was struck by the impression that Jacobs was not as invested in the skirmish as Roberts, or even Bouchard, appeared to be. Roberts was easy to read, his vitriol practically dripping from his mangy moustache. Captain Bouchard was more difficult, but Trixie suspected that this was due to the fact that English was not his first language. She could practically see him translating the conversations in his mind and storing them to be dissected at a later date. Bouchard, she realized, might be silent, but he was every bit as dangerous as Roberts.

Jacobs, however, exuded a sense of fulfilling his duties and nothing more.

And that, Trixie thought, was something that they might be able to use.

"I want to see my brother," Trixie demanded, holding Roberts' gaze and demanding his attention.

Roberts spat over the side of the rail. "And I want an easy life filled with easy women," he sneered. Dan's grip on her waist tightened. "We dinna always get what we want."

Realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with the bitter man, Trixie turned her attention back to her brother and winced at his condition. His clothes were filthy and torn, but worse than that was the expression on his face. She recognized the air of petulance—he'd worn it since birth, after all—but the edge of bitterness it was now tinged with was new.

And turned her baby brother into a man she could barely recognize.

"Bobby?" she questioned, hoping that the bitterness was only her imagination; that when she heard her brother's voice she'd be reminded of who he really was.

"I go by Robert now," he informed her, and it wasn't in the tone of a teasing brother, but of an irritated man.

Trixie's mouth moved but didn't produce any sound. She'd thought it couldn't get any worse when she'd realized that her baby brother was in the hands of pirates. Seeing said baby brother treat her with malicious disdain was infinitely worse. Not because she was offended for her own sake, but because she couldn't imagine what had happened to harden and sour him to such a degree.

"Ye'll address the lady with respect," Esau growled, and she heard a rumble of agreement from the rest of the Straight Arrow's crew. Trixie flushed, both from surprise and embarrassment.

In a gesture that Trixie had seen many times before, Bobby rolled his eyes and moved closer to the rail. "A lady?" he questioned. "Really? Would a lady wear her brother's breeches?"

Trixie looked down at the serviceable breeches she'd nicked from Bobby's pile of too-small clothes before she'd stowed away on the Straight Arrow. She'd worn them for so long that it was difficult for her to acknowledge that they'd originally belonged to someone else.

"She's a lady no matter what she wears, just as you're about as far from a gentleman as you could be, despite your clothing," Jim said, and Trixie saw that he'd been holding himself back, attempting to keep his temper checked. He hovered on the edge now, his face slowly reddening, his hand squeezing into a fist.

"Stop it!" Trixie cried. Tensions were high and the men were looking for a reason to begin the fight. She had no intention of letting the state of her clothing be that reason. "Bobby?" she questioned. "Bobby, what's going on?"

"It's Robert!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. "Weren't you listening?"

And just as had happened countless times when they were younger, Trixie lost her temper. "Yes, Robert, I was listening. I was listening to what sounded like a spoiled brat sulking! And I have no idea why! If I'm to help you, hadn't you better explain what's happened?"

"Help me? Help me!" Bobby's voice rose in pitch. "You still don't understand! I don't need your help!" he proclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

"But you're on a pirate ship," Trixie pointed out in a voice that she commended herself for being so reasonable. "A pirate ship!"

Bobby threw his hands in the air. "And you're not?"

Well, yes. But that was completely different.

Wasn't it?

Not to Bobby, she supposed. Or the rest of the world, really. In fact, the majority of the crew of the Straight Arrow had no idea that their captain was working for the British Navy, and that pirating was merely a cover.

Mostly.

"Are you saying you're on a pirate ship of your own free will?" Trixie quizzed, sounding just as confused as she felt.

"'Course he is!" Roberts exclaimed. "Ye think I'd spirit the lad onto me ship without his say so?" With a scornful glance at the youngest Belden, he muttered, "Damn stowaway."

Stowaway? Trixie's mouth fell open. "You stowed away on a pirate ship?" she asked, her voice rising with each word. "What were you thinking?" she demanded. "You had a job as a look-out—"

"A look-out!" Bobby scoffed, glancing up at the crow's nest of the Straight Arrow with utter disdain. "For three years I've been a look-out. Three years, Trixie! A look-out!"

It did seem an inordinately long time to hold the position, Trixie realized. In fact, the position was often manned by the young sons of captains or others of high rank in the Navy. Bobby had been older than most when he'd assumed the position, and if he hadn't been promoted she supposed it was halfway understandable that he'd looked elsewhere for advancement…

"It wasn't my fault I didn't get the knots exactly right," he continued. "I'm sure they taught me wrong. It wasn't as if I wanted the sail to fall off, was it?"

Trixie could feel the grudging sympathy the crew of the Straight Arrow had extended her brother dissolve in a wave of contempt. It was bad enough that Bobby had failed to properly learn his new duties and had been demoted back to look-out. It was infinitely worse that he hadn't taken responsibility for his failure, and no crew would be quick to forgive him. It was no wonder that he'd stowed away on Roberts' ship—he'd most likely been made unwelcome on his own.

Why Roberts hadn't thrown him overboard was a question Trixie thought it wiser not to ask.

Unless…

"Oh, Bobby," she groaned, realizing that her brother had been taken advantage of by the very people he'd inconvenienced with his uninvited presence. He'd been made a pawn in a game he didn't fully understand.

At least she hoped he didn't.

"You can imagine me surprise," Roberts said, a gold tooth flashing as his face twisted in a parody of a smile, "when a lad with useful information stowed away aboard me own ship." The smile changed to a malicious sneer. "Even more so when I realized how eager he were to part with it."

To Bobby's credit, he did flush. "It wasn't anything you didn't already know," he muttered, but by the scuffling of his feet, Trixie knew he was lying.

"Oh, but I were certainly unaware o' the fact that Gingerbeard's interest in Miss Belden were more than that of a childhood friend."

Trixie flushed and refused to look toward the Ten Acres. It was bad enough that Jim's crew knew that she'd chosen to stay with Dan on the Straight Arrow instead of accepting the offer of rescue from Jim and Ten Acres. To have it publicly broadcasted and used against him was a blow she would have spared him if at all possible.

Bobby, apparently, had not felt the same way. "It's not exactly a secret," he muttered.

"But why?" Trixie asked, struggling to figure out why any of this even mattered. What had Bobby hoped to accomplish? What had Roberts hoped to accomplish, for that matter? And why were Jacobs and Bouchard involved? They'd barely even spoken!

"Why?" Roberts raised an eyebrow. "Because I've been lookin' fer a way of takin' down the mighty Scourge o' the Sea fer years. But he ain't never had a weakness 'til now." He sneered at Trixie, his gaze travelling up and down the length of her form. "T'aint good luck to have a woman aboard, as ye well know."

Before Trixie could spout off the caustic reply on the tip of her tongue, Roberts continued. "And I mightn't a done a thing other than toss the whelp overboard, but when I realized young Belden were acquainted with Gingerbeard, and that his sister was consorting with a well-known pirate, I knew of another who'd welcome the chance to make life difficult fer 'im."

Bouchard cleared his throat and spoke in perfect, if heavily accented, English. "My uncle was the captain of the Fleur de Lis," he said, his cold gaze fixed on Dan. "And it is past time we discussed the matter."

Trixie winced, remembering the routing of the Fleur de Lis and its sailors. Dan hadn't been more cruel or violent than was necessary, but he had conquered the ship quite thoroughly.

"And I am here to fulfill a debt to Roberts," Jacobs said, his tone making it clear that it was the only reason that he was there, and that he'd be more than happy to sail away without another word.

"And a fine help ye've been," Roberts muttered. "Iffen I didn'a know better, I'd a thought you were here as a neutral party."

Jacobs facial expression didn't change one iota from vaguely uncomfortable indifference, but Trixie suddenly felt certain that Roberts had the right of it, and that Dan had more allies than he realized.

Even if those allies did happen to be a ship full of mercenary pirates.

Well, she supposed, those were probably the best allies to have, all things considered.

"So, let me get this straight," Trixie said, turning her attention back to Roberts before her suspicions about Jacobs were plainly stamped on her face. "Bobby stowed away on your ship when he lost his position in the Navy."

"Aye," Roberts agreed, sounding almost as if he'd have preferred never to have met the boy.

"And you discovered that he had information on Captain Mangan."

"Aye."

"And Captain Gingerbeard."

"O' course," he snapped, shifting his weight and running his hand over the hilt of his sword. Trixie was close enough that she could see the muscles in his arms clench and release, as if he were restraining himself from cutting them all down where they stood.

"He needs to solidify his image," Dan surmised, addressing Trixie but letting his voice carry to reach the other three ships. "Even within the pirating world there is a hierarchy, and Roberts wants to move up another notch or two."

"And he thinks he'll accomplish that by banding together with another pirate and a French captain?" Trixie asked. It was obvious to her that Dan had a plan and that he needed her to question him so that he could give the other ships the information they needed.

"Not at all," Dan disagreed. "In fact, I rather believe that he's hoping that Captains Jacobs and Bouchard will fall in this skirmish. After helping to defeat Captain Gingerbeard and me, of course," he added, as if it were an afterthought.

"Of course." Trixie nodded in agreement. "That would leave him in a much stronger position. What with cutting out the two pirates who are more successful than he is, and improving his image by taking out a British captain." She paused. "I wonder how his crew will feel about being cut adrift, though…"

Dan shrugged. "Dead men tell no tales, and he certainly can't keep a crew that knows how he sacrificed his allies. Doesn't make for good morale."

"No, I imagine not," she sighed.

"Enough!" Roberts bellowed, but it was too late for the other captains and crews to unhear the words. "Ye know nothing of what me plans are!" His eyes tracked apprehensively to his own crew, only to find them regarding him with suspicion.

"I rather suspect that Captain Mangan has the right of it," Jacobs said, his tone mild. "I wonder, how did you think to dispatch with me crew? Set 'em adrift? Or was that too slow and uncertain a death for you? Would ye have cut 'em down in the heat of battle?"

There was a moment of potent silence, and then Bouchard's and Jacobs' crews roared in unison. Before Trixie could quite see what had happened, the battle began. With astonishing agility, men swung from ship to ship, and Trixie wondered if the Pool had moved them all closer to each other without her noticing. The crew of the Straight Arrow waited for instructions from Dan, who held up one hand.

"Let them fight," he advised, watching as Jacobs' and Bouchard's crews made quick work of Roberts and his men. "Step in only if we're needed."

The men nodded obediently, though it was obvious that they longed to be in the midst of the fray. When Trixie managed to drag her attention away from the vicious battle on Bouchard's ship, she saw that Jim must have given his men similar instructions, because they, too, were watching the action, poised to join in if Roberts' crew managed to gain the upper hand.

But Roberts' crew wouldn't be gaining the upper hand any time soon, she noted smugly. They were outnumbered and outclassed, though she suspected that they would have fought harder if they weren't suddenly suspicious of their own captain. Whether Dan had guessed correctly or not, the seed of doubt had been planted and the loyalty of the crew was weakened.

"This is working out perfectly," she breathed, barely even wincing when the cries and groans of the fighting men swelled into a dull roar.

"T'isn't over yet," Esau cautioned, and as if to prove his words, Trixie's eyes grew wide with horror as she noted the tall, blond figure poised on the railing of the ship.

"Bobby!" she screamed, having momentarily forgotten him in the excitement of the fight, but it was too late. Abandoning ship, the youngest Belden threw himself overboard in the direction of the Ten Acres.

It was as if the Pool had been waiting.

Before Bobby's head could reappear above the water, the churning that had brought the five ships within feet of each other began anew, this time separating the vessels and sending them hurling away from each other. The skies unfurled and a torrential downpour attempted to drown them, driving the crews to man their ships as best they could.

It was a losing battle, Trixie realized at once. No matter what the crew did, they could not control the relentless course of the ship as it teetered on the circumference of the Pool.

"Bobby!" she screamed again, knowing that she had no hope of spotting him in the water now. Had there been enough time for him to make it to the Ten Acres before they'd been pushed apart? She didn't think so, but she couldn't let go of the hope. He had to be okay. He might be a complete and utter idiot, but he was family, and—

And she wasn't letting him go without a fight.

While the crew scrambled to control the Straight Arrow as it listed to one side, Trixie slid and stumbled her way across the deck, ignoring the elements and concentrating on her goal. It seemed to take forever to reach the set of lines she regularly climbed to reach the crow's nest, but she continued with doggedly determined steps, pressing harder against the elements when they conspired to slow her down.

And then, somehow, she was scrambling up the lines. But the farther she got the more she realized that she wasn't climbing so much as crawling parallel to the water, and she saw that the Straight Arrow was listing even more dangerously. The ship wouldn't be able to right herself, she realized with horror. At least, not without a strong gust of wind hitting it at exactly the right angle. And since the Pool seemed intent on luring them to a watery grave…

"Trixie!"

She tried to turn, but couldn't. She was frozen in place, her hands clenching the lines in a desperate attempt to keep herself from being flung to the sea.

And then he was beside her, and she felt an incomprehensible swell of relief. He couldn't save her. She knew that. It was enough that they were here, together, at the end.

"Dan," she breathed, and though he shouldn't have been able to hear her above the creaking of the ship and the cries of the men, she somehow knew that he did.

She wasn't sure if she had managed to move or if he had, but she could see him, and the mix of desperation and devotion in his eyes did more to pierce her soul than the threat of death could.

"I love you," he vowed, and she knew that it was the only promise he could give her that wasn't empty. He couldn't tell her that they would make it through the squall or that they would be rescued. Instead, he promised her the only thing that was true and that still mattered.

She opened her mouth to cry her own promise, but the line they clung to plunged and she felt the sting of cold water on her back. She tightened her hold and clung with a desperate strength that she knew she wouldn't be able to maintain for long.

An ominous groan filled the air and Trixie felt as well as heard the lookout pole splinter. The world moved in slow motion as the line she still clutched went slack. She felt the lack of support and had just time enough to take in a deep breath before she was submerged, the icy water covering her from head to toe.

The cold was a shock. She had known that the water would be frigid, but the reality of the muscle-constricting, bone-jarring temperature was infinitely worse than she had imagined. And yet, she didn't have time to dwell on the shock. While freezing her limbs, the cold seemed to clarify her thoughts, and she knew that she had to fight. Fight to break the surface. Fight to stay above the surface. Fight to somehow, against all odds, survive.

She scissored her legs, but the tremendous force of energy resulted only in sluggish motion and negligible progress. She could feel herself sinking, the water around her growing darker as she drifted farther from the light.

No.

She hadn't stowed away aboard the Straight Arrow just to lose her life in the temperamental Pool. And if the Pool thought she was going to give in without fighting with everything she had, it had another think coming. Lungs aching, she trained her eyes on the surface of the water and kicked with every last ounce of strength.

The cold, she realized, had numbed her sensations. She could barely feel herself kicking, but she could see the surface growing closer. Not quickly enough, though. Trixie's eyes grew wide as she struggled to hold on to the last of the oxygen in her lungs, but her vision was growing dim with black spots, and the lighter patch of water was moving farther away rather than growing closer.

With the strength of desperation she reached for the light, knowing that it was well out her grasp.

But then the light moved toward her, and she felt a firm tug on her wrist.

And then she was in the light, and she could see black eyes, and green eyes, and blue eyes hovering above her, their expressions anxious. Oxygen flooded her starved lungs and she gasped, gulping in as much air as possible.

"Trixie?"

The voice seemed to come from a great distance, but she could still see the black eyes and their concerned expression.

"I'm okay," she panted, her voice rough, her lungs still burning. "I'm okay. You got me out in time."

"Okaaay…" What Trixie had thought was concern was sounding more and more like confusion mixed with amusement. "What exactly did I get you out of?"

"The Pool! Don't you remember? We were sailing the Straight Arrow and—" She stopped abruptly, eyes fully open for the first time. "We're not on the Straight Arrow, are we?"

"We're in your family room, Trix. Don't you remember? You conned us all into having a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon."

Sure enough, instead of washed up on an island or aboard the Straight Arrow or the Ten Acres, Trixie recognized the familiar furniture of Crabapple Farm's family room. "Where's everyone else?" she asked, frowning. She might have fallen asleep during the movie fest, but she was fairly certain that Brian, Mart, Honey, and Diana had been watching with them.

"They packed it in after the second movie," Dan informed her. "I think Brian was driving the girls home, and Mart went along for the ride."

"You mean he went along to steal some smooching time with Di," Trixie teased.

He shrugged. "I thought that went without saying. They should be back soon, though."

Soon being a relative term when it came to Mart and Brian saying goodnight to their girlfriends, Trixie knew.

Nodding, she tossed aside the hand-crocheted afghan someone had tucked around her and looked around the room. "We should probably clean up," she said reluctantly, observing the empty bowls that had held popcorn and chips, and the dirty glasses cluttering the coffee table.

"Your mom said not to worry about it," Dan replied. "Something about Bobby needing to work off some bad behaviour?"

"Oh, yeah," Trixie groaned, thinking of the catastrophic mess Bobby had made of the family room earlier in the day when he'd decided his firemen needed a new coat of red ink. "Moms spent the entire afternoon trying to remove ink stains, so she decided that Bobby was in charge of tidying the family room for the next month." Brightening, she said, "We should have every movie night here!"

Dan smiled but didn't agree. Instead, he grouped the cups at one end of the coffee table and stacked the popcorn bowls. "Better not push him too far," he advised. "He won't learn anything if he's miserable."

Trixie's shoulders slumped as she remembered her dream. Had it been trying to tell her something about her brother? That she needed to tread carefully to make sure Bobby grew up with a sense of responsibility, and without a chip on his shoulder?

Nah. Dreams didn't actually mean anything other than the fact that she'd eaten too much and fallen asleep during a movie. And it had been such an odd dream… She frowned, wondering about the conversation that she'd overheard in the galley of the Straight Arrow. Had there been traitors aboard the Straight Arrow? Though they'd divined the motivations of Roberts, it was still unclear how he'd accomplished the waylaying of the vessels. The dream felt curiously unfinished, and it was disquieting.

Of course, that was not the only disquieting aspect of the dream. Not by far. Why in heaven's name had she been with Dan in the dream? She had feelings for Jim, not Dan! She pushed the thought away, though she couldn't help remembering how absolutely content she had felt in Dan's arms, how she'd never in her life felt anything else that was so right. No. She wasn't going to think about that at all. Resolutely she turned her thoughts back to Bobby.

At the end of the dream she'd seen three pairs of eyes waiting for her. Surely the blue ones had belonged to Bobby? Surely, deep down, her brother still loved her, even in the dream that was surely the result of too much popcorn and pop?

She flushed, thinking about the other two pairs of eyes. Green and black. Why had it been the black eyes she'd searched for? The ones she'd been most anxious to find?

She'd been dreaming about green eyes since she'd been thirteen.

No, dreams didn't have to mean anything at all, she told herself, and scooped up the popcorn bowls as she led the way to the kitchen. Not a thing.

"Leave the glasses on the table," Trixie advised, glancing over her shoulder as Dan followed her. "We don't want to make it too easy on the little imp, do we?"

Dan grinned and left the glasses where they were. "Of course not. He still has to learn somehow." He leaned against the kitchen counter as she shook the unpopped kernels into the garbage. "Say, Trixie…" He paused. "Did you say your dream was something about the Straight—" He shook his head. "Never mind. It couldn't be." And before Trixie could figure out why Dan looked so confused, he was shrugging into his warm winter jacket and tugging on a knitted hat.

"Thanks for the movie night," he said, and gave her a fleeting smile before slipping out the kitchen door.

Trixie smiled at his retreating figure, banishing the last of her confusing thoughts about the handsome pirate who had stolen her heart. It really had just been a dream, after all.