Captured in the Caribbean

by Sara Whitford

  “And you just went along with it?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “I disagree,” said Adam.

  “Well, you are entitled to disagree, but I chose the least destructive path I could. I thought in this way the only one who would suffer would be me.”

  Adam took a deep breath and looked across the room, staring out the window at the ships in Taylor Creek. “And you never would have told me?”

  Emmanuel shook his head.

  “Never?”

  “No. I would have taken that secret to my grave, just as I promised her I would, but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you what a tremendous relief it is to me that you now know the truth—all of it.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this on the trip back home, and there’s one thing I wonder,” said Adam.

  “What’s that, son?”

  “If you knew all this time that I was your grandson, why did you never try to meet me or get to know me before you took me on as an apprentice last year?”

  Emmanuel looked like he was pondering how he would answer the question. He sighed and said, “I’ve always had an eye on you, my boy. I never once questioned your mother’s love for you and her ability to raise you up well.”

  “How did you even know about my mother and father? From what I heard, they didn’t really tell anybody. Only Valentine knew.”

  Emmanuel tipped his head forward. “Let me explain. When Santiago first came here and explained that he was the son of Isabel and Juan Diego, I knew he had to be my son. I knew she must have sent him to me.”

  Adam listened intently.

  “Well, I admit that I always kept a close eye on him after that. I knew, for instance, that he had taken a room there at the tavern. I also knew that he stayed around here in Beaufort much longer than he needed to, and there must’ve been something keeping him here. I knew who your mother was, of course. I also knew that later that summer he was gone, but her belly was growing. I asked Valentine about it one day, and he only told me that she had eloped with a sailor from Cuba, but that after the Spaniards attacked the town, he ran him off. I was suspicious of his story, of course, but I felt sure that he was referring to my son. I never told him that, though.”

  “How did you know it was your son and not one of the other sailors on his vessel?”

  Emmanuel laughed. “My son was the most handsome one, of course! And he was also the only one who took a room at your tavern. It didn’t take much for me to put two and two together. And then after you were born and as you started growing, my suspicions were confirmed. You looked so much like your father.”

  Adam smiled and looked away. “Everybody was saying that down in Havana. I never noticed it until somebody pointed it out.”

  “Well, you look very much like your mother. You’ve got her smile for sure, and she has dark features as well, but that wavy hair and those eyes . . . Those are your father’s. And I want to tell you something else: I also have known Valentine since before even your mother was born, and I’m sure he knew that I knew your father, since I had done business with him while he was here. Valentine always knew I would ask about you and I would offer to help financially if there was ever any need for it, but of course you know Valentine. He’s far too proud to take any help.”

  Adam nodded. “That he is. Still, I don’t understand why you never tried to get to know me earlier.”

  “The reason why I never tried to make your acquaintance before I took you on as an apprentice is because quite honestly I think it would have been too difficult for me. That’s a poor excuse to you, I’m sure, but it’s the truth. I told you I intended to keep my promise to Isabel, but knowing you personally as a little boy, watching you grow up and being in your life—well, it would have made it very hard to keep that promise. You are my grandson, after all.” At that, Emmanuel got choked up again.

  Adam rose from his seat on the settee and stood so he could hug Emmanuel in his chair. “Well, thank God we don’t have to worry about keeping secrets anymore.”

  “Indeed,” said Emmanuel. He composed himself quickly and patted Adam on the shoulder. “You hurry over to the tavern now and go see your mother. She’s been worried to death about you since the Gypsy left Taylor Creek. She might’ve even sprouted a few gray hairs as a result of it!”

  Adam chuckled. “Alright. I’m going now.”

  He started to leave but then turned back. “Everything will be different now. You know that?”

  Emmanuel smiled. “I do.”

  ADAM WANTED TO RUN ALMOST the whole way back to the Topsail Tavern. Now that he had told Emmanuel what he knew, he would be glad to see his mother and put her fears to rest, and to see Valentine and tell him all about his adventures in Cuba.

  He could hear music coming from the tavern before he even got inside. It was a welcome surprise, since Valentine had temporarily banned hiring musicians a couple of years earlier after a bar fight broke out between sailors from two different ships over which song the musicians should play. In the two years since, the only time the Topsail had music was when a patron happened to come in with a fiddle or a guitar, which didn’t happen often.

  Thanks to the heat on this bright and sunny Saturday, the heavy oak door to the tavern was propped open with a brick, and all the windows were open. Adam wondered if anyone inside would spot him before he stepped across the threshold.

  As it happened, when he came through the door of the tavern, everything was exactly the way he left it—with the exception of the lively tune that was being played, of course. Valentine was sitting in his usual spot behind the bar, and tavern patrons were eating, drinking, and making merry.

  Adam stood there for a moment just to take it all in. When Valentine looked up and noticed it was him, he strode over to the bar to greet him.

  “Welcome home, son,” said the ruddy-complected, middle-aged barkeep. He walked around the bar to shake Adam’s hand.

  “I’m happy to be back,” said Adam. “I’ve got plenty to tell you about, but I’ve gotta see Mama first. Is she here?”

  “In there.” Valentine tipped his head back towards the kitchen and smiled.

  Adam walked past the bar and then pushed open the door to the kitchen and saw his mother getting some plates piled high with food to take to some hungry customers.

  “Hey, Mama,” he said as he stood near the doorway, smiling.

  Mary looked as if she was so focused on what she was doing that it took her a couple of seconds to register her son’s voice. As soon as she did, she put the plates down on the huge butcher-block table in the middle of the kitchen and ran over to hug her son.

  “Oh, thank you, Jesus, thank you, Jesus, thank you, Jesus,” she said over and over again, holding her son tightly and crying tears of joy. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back.”

  “Mama!” said Adam in an attempt to comfort her. “Why in the world would you worry that I wouldn’t come back?”

  She held him out at an arm’s length so she could get a good look at him. “You look alright, healthy and all . . . Oh thank you, Jesus!”

  “I thank Jesus too, Mama, but you didn’t need to worry so much. I promised you I’d be back, and here I am.”

  “Yes you did,” she said, grinning at him as though she was in utter disbelief.

  “And I promised you I’d bring you back gifts.” He reached into the little sack he had brought with him from the warehouse and handed her the locket he had bought for her on the day he left Havana. As she held it in her hand and admired it, he said, “I have you a few other things too, but I wanted you to have this first.”

  “Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “But it looks so expensive! How could you afford this?”

  She put it around her neck and looked inside.

  Adam didn’t answer. He just smiled at her.

  “Oh, look! There’s a tiny portrait of you inside!” She marveled at the likeness.


  “Believe it or not,” said Adam, “that was painted by a fellow on the Gypsy—Ed Willis. He’s a real good artist and did a lot of that to pass the time on the way back.”

  “You shouldn’t have, you know,” she said. “I’m sure this cost way too much.” She gave him a jokingly stern look. “But I’ll always treasure this.” She hugged him again.

  “Let me fix you something to eat,” she offered.

  “I’d love that.”

  Mary delivered the plates she had prepared earlier to the customers in the dining room, then came back into the kitchen to fix something for Adam to eat. As she did, Adam told her all about the sea voyage, how he didn’t get sick, and how beautiful it was down in the Caribbean, but he didn’t say one word about what had happened to him in Cuba. And he wasn’t sure that he would.

  He knew he’d have to tell her at some point that he had finally met his father, and also that he had learned Emmanuel was his grandfather. Nevertheless, he figured he would spare her the details of his ordeal with the kidnappers.

  Adam knew that he would tell Valentine all about what had happened . . . eventually. Not today, though. Today he was just glad to be back home.

  <<<<>>>>

  Adam Fletcher's adventures continue in Murder in the Marsh.

  Click here to learn more.

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  For more information on the Adam Fletcher Adventure Series, visit AdamFletcherSeries.com.

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  Acknowledgements

  AS ALWAYS, MY GRATITUDE GOES, FIRST AND FOREMOST, TO GOD for allowing me to write and publish another novel. I’d also like to express my appreciation to Capt. Horatio Sinbad of the MEKA II, as well as to research historian and author Kevin Duffus, for offering their historical and technical expertise relating to tall ships and eighteenth century seafaring. Additionally, I want to thank Marcus Trower for his brilliant copy editing and great advice in the early stages of revising this novel. Finally, I want to thank all of you who read The Smuggler’s Gambit and expressed your enthusiasm for its sequel. I hope this new adventure was worth the wait.

  —S.D.G.—