The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  “You did, and you were the only one.”

  “You’ll do well with him. When’s the wedding?”

  “Christmas. You’ll come?”

  “I would love to, but you know I can’t commit to anything but the ships.”

  She gave a sad moue, “I know, we’ll have to see. So do you know what you want to order?”

  He rattled off a whole list of things and I sat with my head propped on my interlaced hands watching the exchange with fascination. When she left he looked over at me and explained, “She’s like a sister to me, Frieda’s father’s one of the cooks. She used to do her homework here after school while her father worked and her mother served the food.”

  “So you’re the only one who knew he’d come back? Who is he?”

  “A tourist she met and fell in love with last year.”

  “So how did you know he’d come back when no one else thought that he would?”

  “He was Irish. He’d given her a claddagh ring and put the design facing in.”

  “I think I need a little more information. What’s a claddagh?”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen it, it’s a popular jewelry design, a heart with two hands clasping it, usually with a crown on top?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “The heart means love, the hands friendship, and the crown, loyalty. Taken together they mean let love and friendship reign. There are many traditions associated with the wearing of a claddagh ring. The ring on the right hand with the design facing out indicates friendship, not a serious thing going on at all—facing in on the right means the heart has been captured, that it’s a solid relationship. Worn on the left, on the ring finger with the design facing away, means the wearer is engaged, facing in—married. He gave her the ring and put it on her left hand facing it away from her body. So despite him leaving, I knew he’d be back for her. Turns out he had to finish his last semester of law school and take the barrister’s test. I suppose she’ll have to move to the U.K. now, I think he hailed from Sussex or thereabouts. Goin’ to kill her folks—they’re a close family.”

  “I imagine it’s hard to have a relationship when you live so far away from each other.”

  “I do have some experience with that. Twice in fact.”

  “Were you the one who wouldn’t budge?”

  “Budge, as in move to the other side of the world?”

  “Well, yeah. Where were they from?”

  “Sydney and Denmark.”

  “They have harbors there.”

  “Spoken like a woman.”

  “Well, I am a woman.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and smiled at me over his drink. “Yes, unquestionably.” He took a deep swallow. “But that’s not what I meant. A man would never equate one harbor with another. Do you think that any harbor pilot can lead a ship into any harbor? ‘Cause it’s just not so. It takes years to learn the ins and outs of any harbor, seven or eight minimum to get certified for most. Boston Harbor, New York Harbor, most of the ones in Asia, all require extensive knowledge and experience. I couldn’t just move to Sydney and become a pilot there. Sure, I know the ships, but that’s just a tiny part of the job. The most crucial part of the job really is knowing the intricacies of the harbor, river or waterway. I could no more navigate the St. Lawrence River than I could fly a rocket to the moon. And a river pilot from say, the Cape Fear River close to where you’re from, could not bring a ship in safely here.”

  “So you’re certified for this harbor only?”

  “No, actually I’m certified for several Caribbean ports as well as two in Europe, and interestingly enough, one just south of you, Charleston, South Carolina. But this one is my homeport. This one I could do in my sleep I’ve done it so many times.”

  “So tell me what it is you do exactly.”

  Two waiters came and brought our food and as they began dispensing it onto plates, Roman smiled over at me. “I take ships in and out of the harbor, it’s as simple as that.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s not all that simple. Tell me more.”

  “You’re sure? This is pretty boring stuff.”

  “I’m fascinated, I want to learn more.”

  “Okay, but first what do you think of the soup?”

  “It’s great, delicious, what is it?”

  “Conch. So now you’ve been indoctrinated. Only one thing that comes in a pretty pink delicate shell tastes better.”

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  “I’ll show you later.”

  I blushed furiously as I realized what he was referring to.

  “I love it when I can do that to you,” he chuckled as he dipped his spoon back into his soup. “You blush like a maiden.”

  Chapter Seven

  A night of magic & spice After dinner he took me by the hand and led me down a backstreet until we came to a small wrought-iron gate set into a high stone wall. It creaked when he opened it and then because he guessed I wouldn’t go in first, he backed through it, and taking both my hands he pulled me along with him. Almost immediately we started going uphill and he turned me with his large but gentle hands on my hips. From there a waist-high stone wall meandered on each side so it was a cramped area and there were no steps, just slabs of stone erratically placed allowing us to climb toward a sky that was a panorama of stars.

  “I used to come here years ago when I was first learning the island,” he said, his lips close to my ear. “It’s a magical place, it’s a lot like flying.”

  “How?”

  “Just wait, you’ll see.”

  After a series of high steps, one so tall he had to lift

  me on to it, we came to a curved arch made out of the same rough fieldstone. As soon as we stepped through it I realized we were at the top of a hill looking down. Rough-hewn cliffs surrounding a waterfall that danced in the twilight made me think of Cornwall. Houses were built around the perimeter but could only be seen from the diffused golden light that lit them from within. Shadows of low bushes bobbing in the breeze and silhouettes of majestic trees swaying gave everything an ethereal glow. It truly was magical. The mist from the waterfall created halos around everything, especially around the lights at the bottom where a tiny stone bridge was lit for effect. “Can anyone say Thomas Kincade?” I whispered, acknowledging the reverence one needed to have when invited to such a special place.

  He stood behind me, his hands caressing my shoulders while his lips nuzzled the back of my neck. The way my bones turned to jelly, I thought I might just roll down the hill but his hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me close. “Oh no, you’re not getting away from me that easily.”

  I was pulled tightly against his chest and snuggled between his hips. I felt the hard ridge of him prodding between the cleft of my bottom. His other hand, on my thigh, slid my dress up until the hand holding onto my waist could grip it. My nether region was naked, my womanhood exposed to the air of the night and to the valley below. And I suppose to anyone who might have been in one of those houses with a pair of binoculars. I felt his fingers playing over me, stroking and teasing, telling me that he loved my “baldness,” and spreading my labial lips wide with the fingers of one hand. It was so erotic. It was about the naughtiest thing I think I have ever done. He was proudly showing me to the world and I was loving it.

  A fragrance wafted on the breeze and assailed my nose and although I was familiar with it, I couldn’t readily recognize it. I drew in a deep breath, and so did he. “Ummm, Rosemary and your delightful musk, a tantalizing aroma if there ever was one. I’m afraid you have no choice but to let me eat you right here, right now, this very minute.”

  He leaned me back against the ancient stone arch, facing the waterfall and the valley below. He knelt between

  Jacqueline DeGroot my legs, holding my gown high in tight fists well above my hips. I watched the world below twinkle as it beheld this masterful man licking and clamping his mouth on me. Looking down I could see his black and white streaked hair billowing out as if coming from my very
core while he took me to heights I had never been to before, heights I had never even dreamed existed.

  While his tongue dabbed and licked and slid into my center, his fingers held me open to his gaze and questing tongue. When he removed his mouth and used his thumb to press tiny circles just above my clitoris, I thought I would die. He looked up at me and in a hoarse voice commanded, “Bare your breasts, I want to see them while I take you to Valhalla with me.”

  I didn’t know where that was exactly, but if he was going, I wanted to go too. I pulled my dress down off my shoulders and bared my breasts. The cool night air pebbled my nipples and I felt them elongate and reach for the stars. I watched as his eyes took in my nakedness. I could see the green-gray shards glazing and darkening with passion. He looked down at where he was caressing me and stopped his thumb from making tiny circles on my bony ridge. With what had to be innate precision he slowly slid it down and pressed it against my eager, thrumming clit. He held it there and I felt the pulse transfer from him to me as I shattered.

  Before I was able to return to Earth and discern what country I was even in, he had me up against the wall, his cock buried deep inside me and his lips tugging on a grateful nipple. His hands held the back of my thighs so he could lift me away from the wall and protect my skin from the coarse stones underneath. I could hear guttural grunts paired with powerful thrusts and hard, uneven gasps and then with one full surge he tossed back his head and cursed. It wasn’t a language I understood, but it was hard not to get the full meaning. I reveled as he ejaculated deep into my core. This was a man who was very pleased with the woman he had just taken up against a century’s old hand-hewn fieldstone wall.

  “Beggar it, Tessa,” he said as he hung his head on my shoulder, “What you do to a man. I was just mindin’my own business, showin’ you a waterfall . . .” He chuckled, “Wow, what a ride. I think I need to sit down.” He slid from me and somehow we both managed to end up sitting in the grass with our backs against the wall. “Magical, eh?” he whispered as he leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “The place or the man?”

  “Maybe a bit of both, eh?” he said quite obviously pleased with himself. “I’m gettin’ to know your body and I kind of like the things I’m figurin’ out about it.”

  “I kind of like the things you’re figurin’ out, too,” I said and then I laughed. I had never done anything like this in my whole life. Hell, I was sitting in the grass, topless, my breasts jutting proudly as the moon came up. I loved the freedom it gave me, it felt marvelous.

  After a few minutes, he reached over and cupped a breast, and then bent to trace light kisses across the top curve. “Much as I hate to say this, we have to get back. I must have at least a few hours sleep and I’m determined to have it with you in my arms.” He stood, offered his hand to me, and then helped me pull my sleeves up over my arms and the dress over my hips. “I do love that dress on you, or mostly on you anyway,” he said with a smile. I watched as he tucked himself back into his briefs and trousers and then he took my hand and he led me back through the arch. I took one last, long inhale, Rosemary, a fragrance I would never have a hard time placing again, permeated the heavy night air. I looked over my shoulder at the waterfall and could have sworn it winked.

  Chapter Eight

  Sleeping in a man’s arms again We made our way down the flagged steps, through the creaky gate and down a series of dark alleys to his Jeep. As he drove us back up the mountain road to his house high atop the hill I looked over the side into the valley below. Heavy mists were forming in all the dales and since the lights that had lit our way down the mountain were no longer lit, everything was shrouded in shadow. It was the darkest part of the night and I marveled at how he was able to find his way home. As we went higher and higher, I held my breath longer as he made each turn into what seemed to be nothingness.

  “I can pilot a 44,000 ton vehicle that’s as long as three football fields through a narrow three-mile channel, turn it a hundred and eighty degrees and back it into a slot with only a hand’s width to spare in the pourin’ down rain when it’s dark as pitch outside; I dinna think ya need to worry ‘bout me careening over the side o’ this mountain.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t,” I lied. But he heard my audible sigh of relief when his house came into view on the next turn.

  He chuckled and reached over to grip my thigh. “No, I don’t suppose ya were.”

  After parking beside the door, he lifted me out of the Jeep and carried me into the house. Once in the bedroom, he set me down, stripped me of my dress and laid me on the bed. In the dim light I watched him remove his, set his watch and turn off the light. He turned on his side and pulled me to him. My back was snuggled against his chest with his arm circled around my waist. There was just enough pressure to let me know that I wasn’t going anywhere until morning.

  Which arrived way too soon. Neither of us were anxious to move when the incessant chirping of his watch on the nightstand began mere hours later. Within seconds I was tugged into his body by a splayed hand on my belly. His lips kissed the nape of my neck and a hard ridge pressed persistently at my bottom while words, grumbled in a language I didn’t understand, indicated that he was strongly against the idea of getting out of bed. I murmured my assent and thrust my bottom against the prodding invader. A hand came up and firmly cupped my breast at the same instant I was entered from behind. Frantic thrusts accompanied deliciously slippery fingers and we both groaned our pleasure together just as the backup alarm on his Breitling watch sounded again. With a groan that was as miserable a sound as I’d ever heard, he pulled out of me and flipped the covers off of both of us. “Be ready in forty-five or you’re gonna be here for a while, which wouldna displease me atall.”

  Graciously, he grabbed what he needed and left the master bath to me. Blinking at myself in the mirror, I had to laugh. My hair was standing on end; my lipstick coloring only one side of my mouth, and my eye-liner was only rimming one eye. What kind of man made love to a woman who looked like this? One who was still asleep or one who didn’t bother to turn her to face him!

  Chapter Nine

  Parting is such sweet sorrow Roman left me at the airport in the capable hands of Captain Smythe Gallagher. He held me against him as twilight started to morph into daylight. The tropical breeze ruffled my skirt and he smiled down at me. “If we didna have an audience I would kiss you good-bye good and proper.”

  I knew exactly what he was alluding to and felt myself blush in the darkness. “I think you did a fair amount of those types of kisses last night.”

  “I’ll miss you, sweet lady, and the amazing taste of you.”

  “And I’ll miss you, too, you charming man.”

  We both heard the changes in the prop noises and knew it was time for me to get into the plane and for us to begin taxiing to the runway.

  Roman bent his head and kissed me thoroughly. Then with an arm around my shoulder, he and I bent low and he led me over to the airplane, easily lifting me into it when we got to the door.

  “Take care of her for me Smitty, she has a very special place in my heart.”

  “Aye, I’ll do that. Best be gettin’off, they’re directin’ me to get to the runway. You go get your boat parked.”

  Roman laughed heartily at that, then closed and latched the door, patting it with his flat palm as Smitty pulled away.

  I looked out the window and waved until we made the turn and then he was behind us. Within a minute we were in the air, leveling off and the cabin was filled with the loud, droning sound of an engine going at full tilt. Not an hour later I was deposited at the airport, directed to a taxi, and then mere minutes after that, left standing at the security desk waiting for someone on the bridge to approve of me getting back onboard ship. A handful of security clerks asked some questions, all of which I’m sure they knew the answer to, as I could practically feel the smirks behind my back when they finally allowed me to board.

  I went to my cabin, dropped everything I was
carrying and collapsed onto the bed. I was asleep as soon as my eyes closed. It was early afternoon before I lifted my head and in a fog, began to blink my eyes. Had the last two days been a dream, or simply the best days of my life? An erotic fantasy that a lonely woman would dream up to wile away the nighttime hours was high on my list.

  I stood and helped my dress slip off my shoulders and made my way to the shower. Passing the mirror on the closet door, I looked down at my chest. There, on the inside curve of my right breast was a small purple love bite. I touched it with my finger then brought my finger to my lips. No, it hadn’t been a dream. No one could dream of having sex as good as that, certainly not I.

  I took a longer shower than usual and in a melancholy mood, found my way to a pasta buffet and had a late lunch. Then I meandered around the shops, bought a few things I needed and headed back to my cabin. I wanted to be alone; I was mourning something wonderful that was now over and I did not want company. I did not want to idly chitchat about how beautiful the islands were when inside my heart was shattering with each breath I took. I felt it splintering and poking me in my most vulnerable places every time I inhaled.

  Summoning a cheerful mien a few hours later, I decided to do something outrageous, something that would give Cat and Viv a belly buster of a laugh. Standing naked in the bathroom, I read the instructions for the Neutrogena self-tanner I had bought in one of the ship’s boutiques. After reading the directions and vigorously exfoliating my skin with a loofah, I applied an even coat and rubbed it into my skin, every inch of it. I waited ten minutes for it to dry, helping it along with the blow dryer that was attached to the wall. I did this five more times, layering each successive coat on top of the other, hoping to achieve a deep beautiful tan before getting off the ship in Charleston in the morning. I could hardy wait to see their reaction to my Halle Berry, chocolate brown skin. I was giggling, imagining their reaction as I applied each successive coat.