“It’s September now so I’d like to leave as soon as possible before the colder weather sets in. Once we get to the Americas we will have warmer temperatures than we usually have in England this time of year. We’ll scout around and see what’s in the area. We’ve got some supplies to deliver and I want to find my son, Ronald. Sound good?” He rested his hands on his hips.
“Yes, sir,” Daniel replied.
“Good,” Captain Finley said. “Now, you two go help with the hull repair. I think they need a hand with the sanding.” He regarded the two of us after Daniel slapped me on the shoulder, enthusiastic about working together.
“What is it, Uncle?” Daniel asked.
“Charlie here won me over with his sail repair yesterday,” the captain said, “but what in the heavens did he do to de-grouch you? Don’t tell me I’ve finally found someone—”
“I can tolerate,” Daniel finished. “Yes, maybe you have.”
“According to Daniel, I’m not an idiot,” I said.
Captain Finley let out a laugh that sounded as if it had come from deep inside him. “That’s the only compliment you’re going to get from him. Take it and run, Charlie.”
He shooed us toward the door. “When you finish sanding, go for a dunk in the sea. Cool off and clean up.”
We exited the tent, and I cast a wary glance at the sea. I loved her. That was true enough, but the mention of a “dunk” in her had my hands growing clammy. Charlotte could swim. Swim well.
But Charlie? He couldn’t swim. Not with all these men around. No way.
****
Sanding was hard work. I had shed my sweater and rolled up the sleeves of my brother’s tunic. The pillow hiding my femininity was soaked with sweat and about five pounds heavier. Daniel had relieved himself of his shirt as well, and I couldn’t help glancing over at him from time to time.
He straddled a wooden board resting across two barrels. In his left hand he held a stone wrapped in coarse paper and rubbed it with long strokes across the board beneath him. When his arm sanded back toward him, fine looking muscles bulged in his arm and along his torso. He was long and lean, solid and powerful.
Handsome.
I had seen Benjamin shirtless plenty of times. He was well put together too, but seeing Daniel’s chest was a different experience somehow. Benjamin was like a brother to me. I had always known him. Daniel, on the other hand, was new, a little mysterious, a little older.
Shaking my head clear from my wandering thoughts, I returned to my own sanding. A mild burn in the muscles of my arms simmered beneath the sweat that soaked a good deal of my body. I didn’t mind though. The work kept me busy, each moment bringing me closer to my intended destination. I increased my fervor in sanding the board, and in a short time, I had smoothed out all the splintery edges. Running my palm along the surface of the board, I was pleased at the results of my labor. I wasn’t the only one.
“Thatta boy,” a sailor everyone called Woody said as he walked the length of my board, running a finger over it. “Smooth as a newborn’s bottom you’ve gotten it.”
“Thank you, sir.” I pulled the board off the barrels and handed it to him. As soon as he had his hands on it, another crewman plopped a second piece down in front of me. The look on my face prompted a laugh from Woody.
“That’s the problem with good work, Charlie. When we see it once, we be wanting it again and again.” He cuffed me on the back, harder than I had expected, and his hand made a loud smack against my soaked tunic.
Woody scrunched up his nose as he shook off his hand. From what I saw of his filthy palms, my sweat was the least of his problems, but still, he seemed repulsed.
“Rid yourself of that shirt, chap, ’fore it overflows.” He wiped his hand on his own sweat-soaked breeches.
“I’m all right, sir.” I picked up my paper-covered stone and tackled my next board.
“Suit yourself, but I ain’t touching you again.” He headed toward the careened ship.
“Fine with me.” The less people touched me, the better.
I contented myself with the soft scritch-scratch of sanding until Daniel jerked away from his board and said, “Ouch!” Across from me, he sucked on his finger.
“What happened?” I put down my sanding stone and walked over to him.
“Just a sliver.” He flicked his thumb over the small piece of wood wedged in his middle finger. He fiddled with the end of it, trying to push it out of his skin, but couldn’t get a grip on it.
“Do you need some help?”
My eyes met his, and the tensed muscles in his jaw said he didn’t like needing help.
He drew in a deep breath. “I guess so.”
I offered him a smile and focused on the splinter. Using my forefinger and thumb like a pincer, I removed the shard of wood. Daniel jolted his hand back a bit at the sting, but it hardly bled.
“You’ll live,” I said. “At least for a little while longer.”
“Very funny.” Daniel sucked on his finger again to relieve the rawness.
As I stood in front of him, I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering to his right shoulder and the area where his arm should have been. The skin there, though tanned from hours working outdoors and on the sea, was puckered with scar tissue. Zigzagging lines crossed back and forth like a stitching pattern on a quilt below the shoulder where about six inches of upper arm still remained.
“It hurt, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He picked up his sanding stone and ran it back and forth along the board. “But the worst part was the nasty infection I got after the surgeon removed my crushed arm. Nearly died, I did. Guess it wasn’t my time yet though, because I got better and here I am.”
“That’s what counts.”
We both resumed our sanding, a scraping hush filling the silence as unasked questions filled my head.
Chapter Eight
“All right, chaps,” Woody hollered as he stole the fifth board I had finished from beneath my sore hands. “You two can call it quits for today. Go cool off. Especially you, Charlie.” He stared at me for a moment then shook his head.
By this time, I could barely stand the perspiration that coated my entire body. I had never felt so utterly disgusting. The early September sun was reminiscent of mid-July and had scorched down on us all afternoon.
Daniel scooped up his dry shirt from the sand and started walking to the shore.
“Let’s go for a swim.”
“Ahh… I’m… tired. I think I’ll take a nap instead.”
“Aw, come on,” Daniel half-whined, sounding much younger. “Aren’t you hot?”
Soaked with perspiration, there was no denying I boiled in my own skin.
“It’s not that. I just…”
“Can’t you swim?” He turned to me and paused as we neared the sea.
“Well…” I hated lying, but I didn’t see another way to save myself. “No, I can’t.” I looked down to my feet as if I were embarrassed by the confession.
“Maybe you aren’t as good as I thought,” he said. “Found something you can’t do.” Although his tone was taunting, the grin on his lips told me it was friendly teasing. “That’s all right though. Swimming is easy. If I can do it, you can. I’ll show you.”
Cripes, his sudden enthusiasm was charming. Maybe it would have been easier if he still didn’t want to bother with me.
“You don’t have to, Daniel. Others have tried, but I can’t get the hang of it.”
The lies spilled out easily now. In truth, my brother, Eric, had pushed me into a lake when I was a little one. My father had dropped what he was doing and plunged into the water after me only to find I was floating without any struggle at all. He had stopped a few paces in front of me, and I had paddled my way to him. No lessons necessary. I was a natural born swimmer.
“Maybe you haven’t had the right teacher yet.” Daniel shot me a smile, his warmest yet, and it hit me right in the chest, making something quiver behind my ribs.
“I�
�m too awkward.” I tried to sound frustrated. “My arms and legs don’t listen to me. They do whatever they want, and I end up sinking.”
Did I look hopeless enough? Perhaps a little on the verge of being upset?
Daniel paused, seeming to make a decision.
“All right. I won’t force you. I hate when people do that to me.”
“I find it hard to believe anyone forces you to do anything,” I said.
“They don’t now so much.” He motioned at the crewmembers around us. “Most of them know it’s not worth the effort of arguing with me. My uncle will still try though.”
“Well, he’s the captain. Don’t you have to do what he tells you?”
“Yes, but sometimes his orders aren’t so much captain-driven as uncle-driven. Like him hiring new fish.”
“Like me.”
“Not like you it turns out. You’re different.”
Cripes, that was true.
“Anyway, the other younger chaps he hired were all a part of him trying to force me to get out of my mood which only put me in a worse mood.” He stopped walking toward the shore. “I have to admit he won this time. You’ve managed to make me laugh enough times over these two days that being in a good mood is starting to look promising.”
Daniel dropped his shirt onto the big rock I had eaten dinner on the night before. He waded into the water and dove under, disappearing beneath the blue surface. Several other sailors swam and wrestled about in the water.
I climbed onto the rock and sat on the edge. After removing my boots and stockings, I dipped my feet in the ocean. That little contact with the cool, fresh sea relieved some of the heat blazing inside my body. I shuffled my feet around and sent a spray of water up to my knees. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the cold streams that trickled down my calves to my ankles and back into the sea. Some shouting from the swimming crew made me open my eyes again.
I picked out Daniel among the others. He clearly enjoyed the break from our work and the cool temperature of the water. The sinking sun cast its pinkish rays on his hair, revealing some golden streaks amongst the brown.
One of the older sailors splashed Daniel with a generous blast of seawater, and he retaliated with a gushing wave of his own. In no time at all, the sailor had his arm around Daniel’s waist and was dunking him while the others roared in laughter.
I expected Daniel to come up from the water, scowling and hurling insults at his assailant, but he didn’t. When he emerged, a wide grin was smeared across his face and his laughter joined in with the others. More splashing ensued and I soon realized this crew was Daniel’s family. While he didn’t like newcomers—especially ones that his uncle forced on him—he did share a bond with the older crewmembers.
Would I ever feel that kind of bond to them? Would I ever be one of them like Daniel?
Drawing in a deep breath, I realized I was looking him over much too closely. Again. Focusing back on my own feet, I clenched my teeth. I had to be more careful. I had never been around anyone like him. I couldn’t put my finger on why he intrigued me just yet, but there was something about him. Something I liked. Too much.
I stole another glance in his direction, and his eyes met mine. He waved, a wide smile stretching from ear to soaking wet ear. I waved back, reminding myself, if only half-heartedly, to be cautious.
****
After a basic supper of fish and biscuits, the crew gathered around the cook fire. Most of the men sat on water barrels that awaited loading onto the Rose. A few bottles of rum circulated among the men and as they took long swigs of the brew, Captain Finley wove through them. He took a seat close to the fire, his features looking a little ghastly in the flickering light. Long shadows played off his nose and cheekbones. His eyes took on the rusty glow of the flames as he scanned over his assembled crew.
“He’s getting ready.” Daniel sat beside me.
“For what?”
“A tale.” Daniel settled deeper into the sand and stretched out his legs in front of him. He leaned back on his left arm and turned his attention to his uncle.
Two small boys I hadn’t seen yet amongst the crew caught my attention. One of them sat like Daniel and the other had his legs crossed in front of him. I crossed mine and that seemed rather comfortable although part of my mind pictured me sitting as such in a dress.
Captain Finley cleared his throat, and the light chatter among the crew ceased. All eyes turned to him.
“Tonight is a good night for a tale, don’t you think, mates?”
Several “ayes” emanated from the gathered.
“Then a tale you shall have.” He pulled a dagger from his belt and peeled the skin off an apple. He seemed lighthearted this eve, jovial almost. Earlier in the day, some of the crew had said we would be setting off sooner because preparations had gone so well. Excellent news for me. The longer we stayed, the more likely my father or brothers were to come looking for me. By now, my father would have gone to Lady Elizabeth’s and would have realized I was gone. I hoped he didn’t blame Lady Elizabeth. I also hoped he or my brothers didn’t badger Benjamin about where I was. He wouldn’t tell until I had left, but what would my father or brothers do to him if they thought he was lying to them? Would he crumble under their pressure?
No. Benjamin would protect me no matter what. That much I was sure about.
“This tale begins with a lass who was in love.” Captain Finley’s voice plucked me from my paranoia. He focused on the apple and the long curl of skin that fell to the sand at his feet.
“That’s the way all your tales begin, Cap’n,” one of the crewmen called out.
As the men laughed, Captain Finley smiled, softening his features in the firelight.
“Aye, that they do,” he admitted. “This lass was named Janie Sheridan and she had hair like fire, skin like porcelain, and eyes like emeralds. Another maiden like her, you could not find in all of Ireland to be sure. She was the daughter of a simple farmer, but her beauty was regal. Though she was not of noble birth, many princes volleyed for her attention, such was her loveliness. She had the voice of an angel as well, and when she sang there wasn’t a man in Ireland who could resist her charms.”
I stole a glance around at the crew. They stared at the captain in rapt attention, hanging on his every word and looking like children listening to their father.
After a bite of apple, he continued. “Well, Janie, she toyed with most of her suitors until one day someone caught her eye. Caught her heart is more like it, I should say. Aidan O’Roarke was the lad’s name.”
Captain Finley finished his apple and tossed the core into the fire. It crackled and hissed as the flames rose higher, illuminating the faces of all who listened. The captain scratched his beard and paused for a long moment.
“Now this Aidan O’Roarke was a fine gentleman but just a fisherman by trade like his father and grandfather before him. Janie’s father had seen wealthy and powerful men look at his daughter and hoped to marry her off to someone of position so he too could benefit.”
Captain Finley paused again and rubbed at his beard.
“Of course, Janie fell in love with simple and poor Aidan O’Roarke. One of those once-in-a-lifetime-loves. One she could not deny or abandon. Her father was furious and forbade Janie to accept Aidan’s hand in marriage when the fisherman asked.”
Another pause hung over the men as one of the rum bottles made its way into the captain’s hands. He took a long gulp of it and passed it to the sailor closest to him. As I waited for him to continue the tale, I was amazed at the silence. Not a sound came from the men. The only noise was the fire popping occasionally.
“Now everyone here knows a woman in love cannot be stopped.”
A few of the men nodded in agreement. “Forbidden or not, Janie planned to marry Aidan and live with him on his boat as his wife. Her father refused to see possible wealth and comfort for him sail away with this foolish fisherman who had somehow stolen his daughter’s heart. While he puzzled out a scheme to kee
p them apart, another suitor, Lord Ian McShane, happened by. Janie’s perfect features and voice enchanted him as they had every other man. McShane approached her father and offered him an enormous parcel of land along with other valuable items if he could have Janie for his wife.”
“She can’t marry him!” the smaller of the two boys squeaked. He was seated at the captain’s feet and listening closer than any of us.
Tousling the lad’s hair, Captain Finley continued, “You’re quite right, Timmy. She couldn’t possibly marry Lord Ian McShane.”
“She loves Aidan O’Roarke,” the other boy next to Timmy said.
“That she did, Jonah,” the captain agreed, winking to the sailors nearest to him. “So, Janie’s father didn’t tell his daughter of Lord McShane’s proposal. Instead, he tampered with fate to make things turn out right for his own self. He told Janie she could marry Aidan if he proved his love for her. Now, she quarreled with her father saying she needed no proof of Aidan’s love. She knew with her whole heart that Aidan loved her.
“Her father insisted he needed the proof. She was his only daughter, he told her, and he wanted to make sure Aidan was worthy. Janie agreed if only to satisfy her father. Triumphant, her father issued a challenge to Aidan. He was to sail out to the farthest tip of Africa and bring back a bagridae, a fish similar to a catfish. Only too willing to prove his love, Aidan accepted the challenge.
“Though it pained Janie and Aidan to be separated while he sailed to Africa, they knew when he succeeded they would marry. Nothing would make them happier. Bidding Janie farewell, Aidan set off.”
The captain shifted his legs and rested his hands on his knees. Lowering his voice a bit, he said, “Janie waited each day and well into the dark evenings by the seashore for Aidan to return. While he was away many other men vied for her attention. She ignored them one and all. Secretly, her father got word to Lord McShane that Aidan had accepted the challenge and was en route to Africa. McShane immediately sent out a trio of his own ships.”
“Were they going after Aidan?” Timmy asked, wide-eyed.
Sail With Me (A Discovery Series Book) Page 6
