by Howe, Cheryl
“You are a good teacher and an intelligent woman.” Solomon paused. “I only wonder why you make such foolish choices.”
Felicity pretended to study the book instead of acknowledging Solomon’s comment. She’d rather assume Solomon referred to her entrapment in the armoire than any current mistakes he found her making. The dire words of the Holy Bible wouldn’t ruin her mood, and neither would Solomon’s ambiguous comment.
“Here. Let’s switch to the Gospels. I’m tired of Proverbs.”
Without further discussion, he did as she asked. His dry rendition of the gospel according to Saint Matthew encouraged her to go back to her daydreaming.
She would never agree the days and nights spent with Drew were a mistake. Even if Solomon had bluntly referred to her intimacy with Drew, she would neither deny nor defend it. The rational and moral reasons against their alliance were obvious. Yet she had never been happier.
Her father’s imprisonment always loomed in the background, but she had come to believe Drew would set things right. And when Drew touched her, she forgot everything else in the world. Linked in passion, they had no past...and no future. She tried to stop the unpleasant thought before it came, but it was too powerful to call back.
Her existence would return to its prior drabness when Drew sailed out of her life forever. His absence would leave a gaping hole where her heart resided. In all his kindness to her, he’d never mentioned any feelings beyond lust. Drew was not the kind of man to settle down—nor was she the type of woman to live on the run. After the scandal of her father’s incarceration, they’d be forced to return to Boston and live a quiet life in seclusion. Drew, on the other hand, would always be one step ahead of the law. He was as free as the wind that powered his ship, and just as elusive.
Knowing what she was to lose couldn’t make her regret her love for Drew. She could no longer deny the truth from herself. Every moment with him strengthened the emotion.
Hugh bounded into the room, interrupting Solomon’s dry reading and halting her slip into melancholy.
“My turn yet? I want to read out of the book too,” demanded Hugh.
“We’re going to do something better. I’m going to teach you a song today that will help you remember your letters.”
“Songs are for women. I can read out of the book. Let me try!” Hugh crossed his arms over his bare chest. Despite Solomon’s efforts to dress the child like a little gentleman, he always looked like a wild savage before noon.
“Hugh, do not question Miss Kendall. She’s doing us both a great service.” Solomon’s deep-timbered voice took on a sternness that reverberated against the walls without him even having to raise it.
“I’m sorry.” Hugh hung his head for a respectable half a second before perking back up. “Can you teach me how to be a doctor instead? Then I can help Mr. Sneed. He’s sick.”
“You’re a physician?” Shock and something else mingled on Solomon’s drawn brow.
She got to her feet and fluffed her skirts. “No, I’m not a physician. I’ve had experience with—”
“You are so. You told Captain Drew you helped sick people all the time and no one ever died. I heard you,” insisted Hugh.
“Calm down, son.” Solomon fixed Felicity with a serious stare. “Were you a nurse or a healer of some sort?”
“Well, I consider myself a midwife and an able nurse, but I’m certainly not qualified to train Hugh as a physician.” That she stumbled over her title as midwife, even to Solomon, aggravated her.
The matrons of her church had been outraged when she, an unmarried woman, showed an interest in the skill. She’d become attached to the notion after she realized she would never have children of her own. Despite their objections, Felicity assisted midwives who were not of the Puritan faith and in situations where no one else would help. She had even gone so far as to deliver a child by herself, sworn to secrecy by the unwed mother. It galled her, admittedly much more after her own fall from grace, that women always took the blame for men’s pleasures.
With her conviction bolstered, she met Solomon’s direct gaze. “Actually, I’m an excellent midwife. I never lost a mother or a child.”
Solomon stared through her, lost in secret thought. She doubted he had heard her.
“I don’t need a midwife, but do you think you could help a man with a musket wound in his midsection?”
“I’d have to see the patient to give an opinion.”
“Seeing the patient is out of the question. You can tell me what to do and I’ll render the treatment.” The way Solomon stiffened warned her that any trust she’d gained from him during their lesson was slipping.
“I could tell you the wrong thing and make it worse. I can’t suggest a treatment without seeing the injury. Bring him to me blindfolded.” Felicity wasn’t about to give up when she could finally be of some use.
“He’s unconscious. I think moving him would kill him.”
Hugh tugged on Solomon’s coat. “Papa, you can’t let Mr. Sneed die. He’s teaching me to throw dice, and no one else will play with me.”
Solomon ignored his son. A struggle showed in every strained line of his face. He was seriously considering letting her treat one of Drew’s crew. If she succeeded, Drew would be grateful. He’d remember her for that if nothing else. She’d be more than just one of the many women who passed through his life.
“You can’t let one of your men die without at least giving me the chance to save him.”
Solomon picked up the Bible, the only book they could find on the ship, and walked toward the door. “I’ll speak to the captain. The final decision will have to be his.”
“No.” She blocked Solomon’s way. “He’ll say no. If the man dies, he’ll blame himself.”
Solomon jammed his hands into the pockets of the embroidered long coat he always wore, despite the heat, to his lessons. He started to speak, then stopped.
Up until now, she’d never seen Solomon unnerved.
He studied her as if trying to make a decision. “If I take you, you must promise to obey my every instruction without argument.”
She pressed her hand over her heart. “You have my word.”
“We will see the patient. You will evaluate his injuries; then you will tell me how to proceed from the safety of your cabin. Understood?”
“Can I come too?” asked Hugh.
“Absolutely not.” Solomon spoke more harshly than she’d ever seen him address his son. The strain of disobeying Drew’s orders must have caused the outburst. “I have a more important job for you, Hugh.” Solomon instantly softened his tone. “You’ll be the lookout. This is a secret mission, and no one else can know.”
Hugh straightened and shoved out his bony rib cage. “Aye, sir.”
Solomon turned to Felicity. “Wait here. I’ll make sure the area is clear. And put one of Drew’s coats over your dress or you’ll stand out like a lit candle.”
Solomon exited the room with Hugh. She paced, fearing the quartermaster would change his mind before he returned. If she could not give Drew her love, at least she could give him the life of a crewman. She just hoped nothing went wrong.
***
The stench of rotting flesh smacked Felicity full in the face when she entered the small cabin. A brass lantern hung from the ceiling, casting a dull yellow glow. Shafts of sunlight the size of pinheads punctured the crevices in the planks above. Solomon followed on her heels. He crowded her into the room and shut the door behind them.
Felicity approached the makeshift bed. “He needs fresh air and sunlight. The wound is infected.” The bed was nothing more than boards balanced by crates. Blankets padded the hard surface and a clean sheet covered the patient.
“Hurry,” said Solomon. “If the sea picks up, I’ll have to lash him back in his hammock and you won’t be able to examine him at all.”
A quick glance at the injured man’s face startled her with recognition. At closer inspection, she placed him as her father’s driver from
Barbados. The man was one of Drew’s crew, and a trusted member at that if he knew of Drew’s double life. Her mission’s success took on new importance, strumming her already taut nerves in a discordant jangle.
She took a deep breath and lifted the sheet of heavy canvas. Avery’s midsection was wrapped several times with a clean bandage. She rolled up the sleeves of Drew’s borrowed jacket another turn and began to remove the bandage. Without a word, Solomon lifted the patient while she unwrapped the dressing. When she came to the last layer, she realized why the bandage had been so snug. “Has he been bleeding like this since his injury?”
“It stopped for a day or so, then started again. The bandage cut the flow considerably.”
“I’m sure it did. It cut off his circulation and caused the wound to fester.”
With the last layer of cloth removed, she discovered the wound to be not nearly so large as she’d feared. Luckily, the musket ball had penetrated his side, rather than his stomach. It was possible the shot had missed any delicate and irreparable organs. If she could stop the bleeding, he might have a chance. Though her experience with musket wounds was nonexistent, she believed Avery could survive the infection.
“Where’s the musket ball?”
“What musket ball?”
“The one you removed from the wound. A piece might have broken off and could be causing the infection. There’s no wound on his back so...” Her voice drifted off at Solomon’s perplexed expression.
“Our surgeon was killed. I don’t think anyone thought to remove the musket ball.”
“Did your surgeon leave any of his instruments?”
“They’re in that bag.” Solomon pointed to an unopened leather case tucked in a shadowed corner.
“Has anyone bothered to use it?” She seized the bag and began examining its contents. A handful of instruments lay scattered in the bottom, and fewer medicines in moldy bottles lined the sides. The lack of supplies and implements really didn’t matter anyway. She wouldn’t know what to do with them if she had them. She pulled out a sharp object that looked useful for cutting and another appropriate for probing.
“I’ll have to remove the musket ball if he’s to have any chance at all.”
“We have an agreement. You are to tell me what is wrong with the patient and I am to render the treatment.”
“I don’t know how to remove a musket ball, nor have I ever seen it done.” She patted the wound with a brandy-soaked cloth, cleaning away the dried blood.
Solomon watched her over her shoulder. “What if you make it worse?”
After cleaning the excess blood and puss from the wound, she poured brandy over the instruments. “If I do nothing, he’ll bleed to death.”
“This won’t do. You’re likely to be discovered if you stay. You need to get back to your cabin without further delay.”
She turned to him, shoving the instruments in his direction. “Fine. You do it, but it must be done.”
He jumped back and stared at the instruments as if she had just shoved a severed limb in his direction.
“Do it then, but be quick about it.”
She didn’t bother to tell Solomon how ridiculous his request was. Be quick about it? She had no idea what she was doing.
With her eyes closed and instruments poised above the patient, she paused to pray. Certainly the Lord had every right to turn a deaf ear to her request, considering her recent behavior, but surely Avery shouldn’t be made to suffer for her lack of morality.
“What are you doing?” Solomon’s hiss rattled her concentration. “You’re praying, aren’t you?”
“A prayer can’t hurt.” As ready as she would ever likely be, she gripped the surgical knife until her fingertips turned white.
“I’m not reassured.” Solomon moved so close she could feel his breath on her neck.
The wound had begun to close on the edges, but the new skin was puffy and red. To probe for the shot, she would have to widen the opening. A surprisingly steady hand lowered the instrument to make her first incision.
After carefully cutting the skin away, she gingerly inserted the long metal instrument with the flattened spoon on the end. Perspiration formed above her lip. Accidentally disturbing some vital organ terrified her, so her probes were purposely shallow. With no hint of success, she removed the instrument and breathed again.
An exhalation of air whooshed against her neck. Solomon must have been holding his breath too. “Try it again. Perhaps you didn’t go deep enough.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He looked as nervous as she felt. She nodded and turned back to Avery, encouraged by Solomon’s support. Avery, on the other hand, was not as agreeable. He moaned. When she tried to reinsert the instrument, he reached for her.
She jumped back. “Good Lord!”
Solomon grabbed Avery’s arms and pinned him to the table. “Hold still, Sneed. We need to get the ball from your side. Be a man about it, sailor.”
Avery Sneed thrashed more violently.
“Good work.” To stay out of his reach, Felicity backed against the hull.
Solomon didn’t appear offended by her sarcasm. In fact, his eyes shone with excitement. “This is the most active he’s been since his injury. I think he might be coming around.”
“Wouldn’t you, if someone was sticking a blunt object in your side?” She still had to finish the job, and Avery’s return to consciousness could make her lose her nerve.
When Avery was secured, she returned to his side. She touched the man’s fevered face, then bent to whisper in his ear. “Avery, go back to sleep. When you wake up this will all be over.”
“He’s not supposed to know you’re here,” interrupted Solomon.
To her relief, Avery calmed instantly. He probably had just used all the fight he had left. “If he remembers, which I doubt he will, tell him he dreamed it. Now, let’s get this over with.”
She still held the spoon like instrument in her right hand and returned to work without further delay. Drew would not believe Avery Sneed dreamed his encounter with a woman, but hopefully things would turn out well and she could tell him the truth herself. If she couldn’t tell him she loved him, she wanted to do something for him no one else could. Forcing her mind away from the distraction Drew always became when she thought of him, she focused all her attention on the difficult task at hand. She ignored Avery’s quiet moans and prodded deeper into the wound. After a few moments, her efforts were rewarded.
“I feel something.”
“You do?” Solomon sounded surprised at her minor success.
With all the concentration she possessed, she carefully scooped the round object from the wound. Her fingers ached from the strain of holding the spoon so tightly, but she feared her hand would shake if she loosened her grip. Just as she almost had the shot out, the door banged against the wall. She froze, holding her breath.
Hugh stood in the doorway. “Captain’s looking for you! Captain’s looking for you!”
Without letting go of Avery’s arms, Solomon motioned Hugh into the room with a jerk of his head. “Get in here and shut the door.”
Carefully, she guided the instrument out of the wound before there were any more interruptions. The spoon came up full of red muck, but closer inspection revealed the dull metal of a musket ball. She thrust the spoon in Solomon’s direction. “I did it!”
Solomon let go of Avery and picked up the blood-covered shot. He held the round object between his thumb and forefinger. After examining the ball carefully, he grinned. “It’s whole. My God, Felicity, you did do it.” Solomon grabbed Felicity and hugged her. As if regretting his impulse, he released her instantly. He stepped back as far as the tight quarters would allow.
Hugh pulled on his father’s coattails. “Papa, Captain Drew is looking for you. He almost went to Felicity’s cabin, but I told him you were in the riggings fixing a tangled line.”
Solomon’s smile sagged. “He knows I hate heights. Now I’ll actually have to climb one of th
ose things so he can see me jump out.”
Hugh shrugged, obviously unconcerned with his father’s dilemma. “I want to hold the musket ball.”
“No, Hugh, it’s dirty. Go on, Solomon, I have to clean and stitch the wound. I don’t want Drew to find us before I’ve finished.”
Solomon wiped his brow with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “I don’t want him to find out at all. I’ll occupy him with something so I can return you to the cabin without his suspecting anything. Hugh, sit by the door and keep a look out.”
Her care of Avery Sneed must have finally earned Solomon’s trust for him to agree to leave her without an argument.
“Don’t even think about leaving this room without me. Wait here if you finish before I get back,” he added before he and Hugh, who was still begging to hold the musket ball, left the room.
In the surgeon’s bag she found some curved needles specifically designed for her purpose and got to work. By the time she had Avery bandaged again, it seemed as if an hour had passed. She admired her work, then forced some brandy down the man’s throat for good measure. The dressing no longer needed to be so tight or thick to keep the white cloth from turning red. With nothing else to be done, she sat down to wait.
Unfortunately, patience was a skill she’d never mastered.
After a few more moments of struggling with her will to stay put, she crept to the portal and quietly opened it. A peek wouldn’t hurt. She could send Hugh to see what was keeping Solomon. Glancing down both sides of the dim passageway revealed that Hugh had deserted her. She stepped out into the empty corridor.
To the right was the way she had come. The left faded into darkness. A couple of steps in that direction showed a small opening that angled into a crease. By the way the walls met, she must be at the bow of the ship. Sacks of supplies and a few crates littered the cramped space. No wonder Solomon was anxious about bringing her here. Drew’s cabin resided at the stern, the opposite end of the vessel.
