Distant Dreams

by Jenny Lykins

  Conversation lagged when the food arrived, but once the three of them dug into their food they all chatted like old friends.

  Someone brought up the topic of children, and Shaelyn asked Faith if she and her husband had had any. She couldn’t believe Der Fuerher would condone a marriage to someone who had not had children in ten years of marriage.

  Faith glanced down at her plate and patted her lips with her napkin.

  “We had a son when we were first married. Little Thomas lived nine months before a fever took him.”

  Shaelyn could have kicked herself for asking.

  “Thomas was more devastated than I, if that is possible. He never got over the baby’s death and he...” Faith stared at her lap. “...he never wanted to take a chance on it happening again.”

  It took a few moments for the meaning of her words to sink into Shaelyn’s brain. The blush on Faith’s flawless cheeks assured Shaelyn she hadn’t misunderstood.

  “Did I tell you about the litter of coon cats in the stable?” Molly passed a slice of blueberry pie to Shaelyn. Shae could have kissed the dear girl for changing the subject. “The kittens are nearly full grown now, but they still want to nurse. Poor Dolly has to fight them off. She batted one away so hard it fell out of the hayloft, onto Irish’s back. Irish bucked so hard he kicked down the stall door, then Ned had to go chasing after him, all the while the cat clinging to Irish’s back.”

  By the time Molly finished describing the chase, her infectious laughter had all three of them giggling like teenagers. Shaelyn mopped tears from her eyes, then burst out in another fit of giggles.

  “I use to have this dog that belched like a human. Honest. And every time my boyfriend came over, she would sit beside me and belch when he wasn’t looking, and he thought it was me. I couldn’t convincing him I had a burping dog.”

  The three of them howled at the story like slap-happy children.

  “When...when Thomas and I were courting,” Faith struggled to catch her breath, “we went to listen to chamber music, but I refused to eat dinner so my corset wouldn’t pinch. Every time the music stopped, my stomach rumbled so loud it echoed through the room.”

  Struggling for breath and wiping away tears, they found each other’s stories unreasonably funny. With every quip and anecdote, they fell upon each other in fits of weeping mirth.

  It was during one particularly raucous bout of laughter when Alec walked into the room. He eyed them as if they were a three-headed calf, and approached them as if he didn’t want to catch what infected them.

  “I apologize for my tardiness, Faith. A problem arose at the office.”

  The three of them stifled their giggles, then took one look at each other and burst into howls of laughter again. Just as they started to die down, Molly snorted and sent them all into more fits.

  Alec gave an indignant yank to his coat sleeves.

  “If you ladies will excuse me, I shall go change.”

  They found this declaration terribly funny as well. Not until he’d climbed the stairs did they even begin to get control of themselves. Faith dabbed at her eyes and fought for breath.

  “Oh, I have so enjoyed this,” she sighed when she could finally speak. “Thank you so much for inviting me.” She scooted out her chair and rose reluctantly. “I suppose I should freshen up before Alec returns. Thank you, Molly.” She leaned over and gave the young girl a hug. “And thank you, Miss Sumner.” Before Shaelyn knew it, Faith hugged her with a little squeeze.

  “Call me Shae,” she said, somewhat stunned.

  “Shae,” Faith repeated. “Thank you.” She gave them one last smile, then disappeared toward the back of the house.

  Shaelyn turned and looked at Molly, who gave her an innocent smile before taking another bite of pie. Shae looked back toward the back of the house and shook her head.

  One thing was certain. There was no way in the world she could ever bring herself to hate Alec’s future wife.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Shaelyn grabbed Martin by the shirtfront.

  “Martin! Where’s Alec?”

  For the first time since she’d known him, a moment of shock crossed the butler’s face before he tucked his chin and stared down at her, his calm facade firmly back in place.

  “I wouldn’t know, miss.”

  She let go of his shirt with a little shove.

  “Don’t give me that bull. Nobody sneezes around here without you knowing about it.”

  He adopted an innocent look and spoke to the ceiling.

  “I assure you, I haven’t a clue - ”

  She grabbed his shirt again.

  “Remember who you’re talking to, Martin. I helped him out with Robert and Naomi. This could be worse.”

  In as few words as possible, Shaelyn told him what she’d discovered. Martin’s brows shot skyward, then he marched toward the back door.

  “He’s at the ship. I’ll take him the message.”

  Shae nearly stepped on his heels following him.

  “I’m going with you.”

  She had the feeling Martin would have argued under different circumstances, but he knew now was not the time to fight a losing battle.

  They ran to the stables, bursting in on Ned and startling him so badly half the bucket of oats he carried exploded onto the stable floor.

  “Saddle two horses, Ned. Quick!”

  He sat down the bucket. “Well, what’s the - ”

  “Do it!” Martin ordered.

  The coachman grabbed a saddle blanket and slapped it onto the nearest horse’s back, grumbling under his breath about all the emergencies and strange going’s-on recently. Apparently he’d been kept in the dark about some of Alec’s activities. Considering the mass communication system Ned was married to, Shaelyn was surprised.

  Once he’d settled the saddle into place, she nudged him aside and started tightening the cinch.

  “I’ll do this. You saddle the other one.” She looked up moments later in time to see him hoist a side saddle onto a gorgeous mare’s back.

  “Not a side saddle. I ride astride.”

  “But, miss!” he and Martin both yelped.

  “Astride!”

  Muttering, he dragged the saddle off and hefted another one. Shae grabbed two bridles and fastened them into place, gave her horse’s cinch a testing tug, then swung onto its back while Martin struggled into the other saddle. She thought she would scream before the formally-dressed butler settled his rear onto the fidgeting horse’s back.

  “Let’s go.” She shot out of the stables in a cloud of dust, then turned south at the road. The other horse followed, the proper Martin holding on for dear life. His legs flailed in the stirrups, his body bounced inches off the saddle.

  Shaelyn held back for a mile or two, stifling screams and a few choice curses. When she got her bearings and knew she could find her way to town, she let Martin bouncingly draw abreast of her.

  “I’ll meet you there!” she yelled over the sound of running hooves and Martin’s squeaks.

  “But, miss!” he squawked. By that time his voice was just a faint sound in the distance.

  She kicked her horse to greater speed, trying to remember how long it had taken them to get from town to Windward on that other fateful day. But they’d been traveling at a leisurely clip in a carriage then.

  Just as she started to worry that she’d missed a turn, the little harbor loomed into view.

  She finally clattered up the wooden dock amidst the cacophony of shouts and noises of a ship getting ready to sail.

  Racing up the gangplank, she scanned the deck and the busy sailors, all oblivious to her presence in their preparations to weigh anchor. When she saw no sign of Alec, she ran to the door leading belowdecks and stumbled down the stairs. Within seconds she burst into the captain’s cabin and found Alec and another man leaning over a chart on a highly polished desk.

  “Shaelyn! What the devil - ”

  “Alec, Samuel was in Canada researching the - ” She
stopped and glanced at the other man, then looked back and waited until Alec nodded for her to go ahead. “He was researching the underground railroad!”

  Alec straightened.

  “He wanted to do an exposé on it. He said too many lives were lost on both sides, and the slaves should be freed through legal channels. He found out that Franklin Tilburn has set a trap for the next load of slaves.”

  Alec’s face darkened. “Does Smythe know about - ”

  “No. We were just talking. I asked him what he was doing in Canada and he told me about the story. He doesn’t suspect us.”

  Alec paced for a moment, then looked at the man across the desk.

  “Captain Finley, we shall simply meet the ship farther out to sea. They will expect us to follow our old pattern. By the time they realize their error, we shall be well on our way north.”

  “Aye, Alec. ‘Tis a good plan.”

  The men studied the chart, oblivious to Shaelyn. Captain Finley pulled his pipe from between his teeth and stabbed a grid on the map with its stem.

  “We take them here. They’ll not be following us through these islands. Not a man alive can navigate those shoals better than Angus Finley.”

  “Let’s weigh anchor then. Shaelyn.” He grabbed her by her upper arms and squeezed. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the feel of his touch. “Thank you for coming. Now let’s get you off the ship and...”

  He and the captain raised their heads and looked about the room, as if it had suddenly changed.

  “No!” Alec exploded.

  “I’m afraid so, laddie.”

  “What?” Shaelyn squeaked.

  “We’re at sea!” Alec roared, then stormed out of the cabin in two strides.

  “We’re what?” she squeaked again.

  The captain rushed out of the room behind Alec.

  “Laddie, I told the first mate to weigh anchor when ready.”

  Shaelyn hiked her skirts to her knees and ran behind the two men. She burst onto the deck seconds after they did, then ran to the rail to gape at the disappearing dock. The tiny figure of Martin bobbing on the back of his horse could be seen just approaching the dock.

  “Damn and blast!” Alec slammed his fist on the polished wooden rail. “Give the order to turn about, Finley.”

  The captain pointed at Alec with the stem of his pipe.

  “You know as well as I that if we take the lassie back we’ll never meet that slaver in time to beat them at their own game.”

  Alec sputtered for a minute, then pointed to the rowboat hanging from the ship.

  “Lower the boat. We’ll send a man to take her back.”

  Captain Finley put his hand on Alec’s shoulder and turned him away from the rail.

  “Alec, son, you know we run these trips with a skeleton crew. The fewer hands, the fewer chances of injuries if we ever have to fight, and the fewer chances of information leaking to the undesirables. I hate to tell you this, lad, but you’re the only hand we can spare.”

  Alec glared at the captain, then dropped his chin to his chest and scrubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. After a few unintelligible mutters under his breath, he finally turned to Shaelyn.

  “You’re forced to sail with us, I’m afraid. I won’t ask the men to do this without me.”

  “No problem,” Shaelyn very nearly chirped, then she dropped her gaze and tried to look disconcerted. “Umm…I’ll…ah…I’ll make do somehow.” Surely Samuel was well enough for Molly and Faith to nurse back to health.

  “That’s a brave lassie.” Captain Finley patted her on the head as if she were three. “We’ve had nairy a bit of trouble in all our confiscations. Not with Mr. Griffin’s ship and ours flanking them with cannons pointed.”

  Cannons? There would be cannons?

  She jerked up her head and scanned the sea. Sure enough, another ship sailed on the port side, no more than half a mile away and closing.

  “You should get belowdecks.” Alec took her arm and guided her toward the passage. “Go to my cabin and stay there. I’ll bunk with one of the other men.”

  Shaelyn yanked her arm away and stopped in her tracks.

  “I don’t think so,” she said in her best nineties woman voice.

  “Do not choose now to be unreasonable. It is not safe - ”

  She snorted and raised both hands toward the ocean, turning a full circle and scanning three hundred and sixty degrees of horizon.

  “Excuse me, but I don’t see any warships out there barreling down on us. When we get within cannonball range, you let me know and I’ll go cower in your cabin like a good little girl.”

  Alec’s head dropped back between his shoulder blades as he stared at a china blue sky. He muttered something about a sense of humor and the fear of breaking a wing from the slaps, but Shaelyn couldn’t make sense of it. Finally he simply walked away, waving his hand in dismissal.

  The captain smiled around the stem of his pipe, winked at her, then strolled away toward the helm.

  *******

  Alec stumbled into the cabin long past dark, his stomach roiling, his knees shaky. He had no fear of embarrassing himself by puking in front of Shaelyn. He’d emptied every bite of food his stomach contained over the rail. Indeed, at times he feared he would lose his stomach as well.

  “Alec! Are you hurt? I didn’t hear any cannon fire!” Shaelyn appeared at his side with a book in her hand.

  He staggered to his bunk and fell across it. When he opened his eyes he saw the cheery, bright lantern swaying to and fro, to and fro, to and fro. He moaned.

  “Where are you hurt? I don’t see any blood.” Shae jumped on the mattress, rocking his stomach. She yanked at his clothing and yelled at him. “Answer me, damn it! I can’t help you if I don’t know where you’re hurt!”

  He shoved her hands away and tried to rise, which only sent the hot bile creeping farther up his throat.

  “I am not wounded, blast it! I’m seasick!”

  The cabin fell silent except for the nauseating groan of the ship’s timbers as they heaved through the waters. The lantern squeaked quietly on its hook as it swung to and fro, to and fro. He slammed his eyes shut.

  After several quiet moments, he thought he heard a very suspicious noise.

  There it was again.

  He pried open one eye, then the other followed at the sight that met him.

  Shaelyn sat back in the shadows of the bunk, her hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Her shoulders shook in silent laughter.

  There was that obnoxious snort again! Her eyes widened and her shoulders shook harder.

  “What the hell is so amusing?” he roared, then swallowed again.

  She gave up any pretense of trying to hide her mirth. Her laughter gilded the air of the cabin, bouncing off pitching walls and lurching ceilings. She fell back into the shadows and laughed until she snorted again, then grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it, doing little to muffle that irritating sound.

  “I’m so very pleased to be such wonderful entertainment for you,” he tried to snarl, but it came out more of a moan.

  Her giggles crescendoed as she elbowed her way to a sitting position.

  “You’re seasick!” she gurgled, then fell back again, holding her side. “A pirate who gets seasick!”

  “I am not a pirate,” he growled, successfully this time.

  It had no effect on her whatsoever. He closed his eyes and let her laugh, which went on longer than any sane, compassionate person would have allowed. Finally her mirth died to occasional, sporadic snickers.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you got seasick? So do I.” She got quiet for several seconds. He heard a strange sort of ripping sound, then she fumbled with something. “Here. Take this.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her out-stretched hand. She held two tiny, flat yellow pellets in her palm. A leather pouch lay open next to her on the bunk.

  He arched a suspicious brow and picked them up.

  “What do you sug
gest I do with these?”

  “Swallow them.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was swallow anything.

  “And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?”

  She sighed and looked at him as if he were a very dim-witted child.

  “Because they will help you stop being seasick.”

  He sighed at her nonsense and pointedly glanced at the minuscule specks in his hand.

  “These two little bits of nothing will relieve my nausea?”

  “Yes.”

  He conveyed his degree of belief with one jaded look.

  “Hey, I was right about Samuel, wasn’t I? What have you got to lose? Aside from that attractive green tinge.”

  He cursed under his breath, then tossed the pellets into his mouth. The things stuck to his tongue and started dissolving with a nasty, bitter taste. He crunched one between his teeth and nearly spit the blasted thing out.

  Shaelyn rolled her eyes, fetched a glass from the holder on the table, poured it full of water, then shoved it into his hands.

  “You don’t chew them. You swallow them whole.”

  He washed the pellets down but couldn’t control the grimace from the taste they left behind. Any minute now he expected them to come back up, but through sheer willpower he managed to keep the contents in his stomach.

  “Thank you,” he said with little sincerity. “Just let me get a change of clothing and I will leave you in peace.”

  She shoved his weak, trembling body back onto the bunk as if he were no stronger than a newborn kitten.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Lie down there and rest until the pills take effect.”

  He thought he detected a distinctly amused quaver in her voice, but he chose to ignore it. Truth be told, he was not at all certain he could collect his clothing and make his way to the first mate’s cabin without disgracing himself, staggering and puking his way there.

  With only token resistance, he leaned back into the heavenly, blessed pillow and tried to ignore the rolling of his stomach with each swell of the waves. He felt Shaelyn heft his booted feet onto the bunk. The last thing he remembered was hearing her hum an odd little tune, the likes of which he’d never heard.