These Tangled Threads

by Tracie Peterson

  “We’re setting sail any minute now,” the sailor called after him.

  William turned, his lips curved into a wry grin. “You gave me that same information fifteen minutes ago, and you still haven’t set sail,” he replied before stalking off to begin his search.

  “Don’t say you wasn’t warned,” the sailor bellowed.

  William didn’t reply, his gaze darting about the ship for some sign of the elusive Farnsworth. He made a wide turn to go down the steps and check the cabins when he spotted a tall man leaning on the ship’s railing facing the dock. Farnsworth! He moved forward, his focus steadied upon the tall lean figure with graying hair. As he grew nearer, a young woman with her skirts billowing in the breeze and a small child at her side blocked his path. He could no longer see Farnsworth, and by the time he’d gotten the woman and child out of his way, his quarry had slipped away.

  William hurried to the rail, his gaze flitting about as he surveyed the amassed passengers. He caught a glimpse of Farnsworth going below decks and followed at breakneck speed. However, a sailor was coming up the steps as William approached. “Best slow down, sir. The steps are wet and we don’t want you falling.”

  William gritted his teeth. Who did this insolent tar blocking the stairway think he was? He wanted to shove the sailor aside but knew he dared not lose his temper. “I’ll do my best,” he said, forcing a smile.

  The moment the sailor stepped aside, William fled down the stairs. Farnsworth had once again eluded him! He walked through the ship’s passageway and then slowly retraced his steps. He heard the orders to cast off, and the ship lurched slightly as it began to move away from the dock. Mounting the steps two at a time, he reached the deck and once again his gaze locked upon Farnsworth at the railing. This time he headed straight for his prey and in a swift, calculated motion, William grasped the man’s arm and pulled it back in a painful twisting motion.

  Yelling in pain, the man attempted to turn toward his assailant as the ship lurched unexpectedly. Breaking Thurs-ton’s hold, the man gave a shove and pinned Thurston against the ship’s railing.

  The man appeared incredulous. “What are you doing?” he screamed while staring into Thurston’s bulging eyes.

  “I thought you were someone else,” Thurston hoarsely whispered.

  The man shoved William away from him. “Next time you decide to accost someone, make sure you’ve found the proper person.”

  “My sincere apologies,” William said. “If there’s anything I can do to—” “Just stay away from me for the remainder of the voyage,” the man said in a warning tone.

  “I’m not making the voyage to America. I merely came on board to find a man who’s hiding on board—he’s done me a grave injustice. In fact, you resemble him, and that’s why I acted in such haste. Once again, I do apologize.”

  The man shook his head. “It appears to me you will be making the journey,” he said while pointing his thumb toward the dock, which was growing more and more distant as they talked.

  Forgetting his apology, Thurston rushed toward the ship’s railing. The sailor who’d forced him to purchase passage nodded toward land with a smug look etched upon his face. “Guess you’ll be sailing with us, Mate,” he said with a snigger.

  “I want off this ship,” Thurston angrily commanded.

  “Unless you plan on swimming for land, I’d say the next time you get off this ship you’ll be setting foot in Massachusetts.”

  “You go and tell the captain I must return,” William insisted.

  The sailor bellowed a loud guffaw. “Tell him yourself, mister.”

  William watched the sailor walk away, an insolent swagger in his step. “I’ll report you to the captain,” he hollered.

  The sailor pulled his knitted cap from his head and waved it in the air. “You do that. Tell the captain I wasn’t willing to bother him with nonsense about dropping anchor for someone who knew we were setting sail. If I know the captain, he’ll toss you overboard,” he replied in a loud voice.

  Many of the passengers had stopped, listening to the barbed exchange, their gazes flitting back and forth between the two men as they argued. William felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He disliked being made the fool in front of one person, much less a crowd.

  He glanced about the group and then gave them a dismissive wave. “You’d just as well go on about your business. There’s nothing more to see or hear.” A few passengers walked away, but most remained, staring at him and waiting for the next lick of excitement he might send their way.

  Wending his way through the curious assembly, William’s anger continued to mount. Why won’t they just go away! A seaman was in front of Thurston, but when he didn’t move rapidly enough, William gave him a hefty shove and continued off toward the stairway. He held his shoulders straight and head high until he was securely inside his cabin. Then, behind the closed door, he vented his rage, yelling in anguish as he hurled the few unbolted furnishings into the walls.

  When his anger had finally subsided, he picked up the husk-filled mattress and threw it back across the ropes attached to the wood frame bolted to the wall. He’d broken the only chair in the room. Disgusted he now had no place to sit, he flung himself onto the bed, weary from a day that had gone amiss at every turn. He was on a ship with little money and no personal belongings, not even a change of clothes. Soon he would be in Boston—a place he dare not be seen. If even one of the Boston Associates should gain knowledge he was back in the country, there would be a manhunt to see that he was placed behind bars. Of that fact, there was no doubt! He would have to carefully lay his plans before the ship docked.

  A soft knocking at the cabin door caused Taylor to look up from his reading. “I’ll answer,” he said, placing his book aside. “Uncle John,” he uttered as the older man slipped through the open door and then leaned against it, his breathing rapid and his complexion a pasty white. “You look as though you’ve seen the devil.”

  John loosed the checkered kerchief from around his neck and wiped the sweat from his brow. “If not the devil, then one of his faithful followers,” John replied.

  Bella set her stitching aside and stared at John. “You’re not making any sense. Whom are you referring to?”

  “William Thurston.”

  “On this ship? Surely not,” Taylor replied.

  John narrowed his eyes. “I know William Thurston, and he is on this ship. He pushed me out of his way only minutes ago.”

  “He’s seen you?” Taylor asked, his voice tinged with concern.

  “No. He was too busy attempting to get below decks to his cabin. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s behind this whole charade of having me arrested by those hooligans who pretended to be police. I’d venture to say that those men with the captain this morning weren’t truly policemen, either. They’re probably a couple more of Thurston’s hired thugs.”

  Bella frowned. “Exactly what is Mr. Thurston hoping to gain through all of this?”

  “I suppose he’s seeking to earn himself a place of prestige among propertied Englishmen since he’s no longer welcome in America. If Thurston has successfully convinced them I’m a traitor and can hand me over to these men, he’ll gain gratitude and respectability.”

  Taylor nodded. “I agree, Uncle John. He’s likely told them a pack of lies in order to persuade them you’re a traitor and has probably promised to deliver you as a token of his goodwill. I can just hear him telling all those stiff-necked aristocrats how much he loves the homeland.”

  “Not to mention the fact that he’s probably counting on a tidy sum for capturing a treacherous villain such as I.”

  “But it appears his plan has gone awry. Surely he didn’t plan on sailing to America.”

  John moved away from the door and seated himself. He had finally regained some color in his cheeks. “You’re right, but he waited too long and was unable to disembark. Now he finds himself in a quandary. Taylor, you’re going to have to talk with the captain. Explain what occurred back
in Massachusetts, including the fact that William Thurston escaped a couple years ago, evading just punishment for his heinous crimes. And since the captain believes those men were truly the police, you’ll need to be at your most eloquent.”

  Taylor smiled broadly. “I’ll do my best. Perhaps it would be wise to schedule an appointment with the captain. Arranging a definite time to meet would ensure an adequate period in which to explain our dilemma.”

  “Excellent! You’re already planning a strategy. I believe you’ll be able to handle this matter in fine fashion. As for me, I believe I’ll go and visit with Addie in our cabin. I’ll await word from you.”

  “No need postponing matters. I believe I’ll go and see the captain now. Perhaps he’ll have time to visit with me today,” Taylor said while straightening his cravat.

  Bella picked up her stitching, her lips turned upward in an endearing smile as she gazed at her husband. “I think that’s a prudent decision,” she agreed.

  While mounting the steps and striding toward the captain’s quarters, Taylor began formulating his plea. His argument must be incisive, for without the captain’s assistance, they would be helpless in gaining control over Thurston and having him placed under arrest once they arrived in Boston. Surely the captain would be willing to assist in bringing his reluctant passenger to justice once he realized the fact that Thurston had been the primary architect of kidnappings and thievery in Lowell.

  Taylor knocked on the cabin door and then waited a few nervous moments until the captain shouted for him to enter. “Good day to you, Captain. I’m Taylor Manning, one of your passengers.”

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Manning?”

  Taylor met the commander’s gaze. “I’ll need an hour or so of your time to totally explain my dilemma,” Taylor explained. “I wanted to see if you might have that much free time available today or tomorrow.”

  The captain cleared his throat and leaned back in his leather-covered chair. “Must be a mighty thorny issue if it’s going to take you an hour to state your case.”

  Nodding in agreement, Taylor said, “It’s complex, and I don’t want to leave you with unanswered questions.”

  The captain gave him a lopsided grin. “You’ve managed to rouse my interest. I’ve got time right now. Why don’t you take a seat over there and begin telling me your story.”

  Taylor’s lips twitched nervously. “Now?”

  The captain pointed to the empty chair. “No time like the present. Sit down.”

  “You’ve already talked to the captain?” John asked in an incredulous tone.

  Taylor smiled at his uncle, unable to hide his pleasure. “Yes. And he’s agreed to help us.”

  John pulled Taylor into a husky embrace. “I’m proud of you, my boy. Has the captain secured Thurston in chains?”

  “No. He explained that Thurston had taken to his room, and since there was no place for him to go, he’d wait until we docked to take him into custody and place him in irons. If William remains unsuspecting, there should be no problem; at least that’s what the captain believes.”

  “I’d prefer he be placed in shackles right now,” John replied.

  Taylor nodded. “I attempted to convince the captain. However, he feared the passengers would be unduly upset by the tumult. He thought it best to wait.”

  “Well, we’ll abide by his decision. I’m just thankful you were successful in winning over the captain. You performed admirably.”

  Taylor beamed. “Thank you, Uncle John.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Boston Harbor

  May

  Taylor moved away from the crowd of passengers beginning to gather on deck. The sun was shining brightly as the Liberty Queen neared Boston’s harbor. He wanted to ensure William Thurston was detained before the ship docked. The captain clenched an unlit pipe in his fist as he moved about the deck of the ship shouting orders to his crew.

  “Good morning,” Taylor greeted as he approached the captain. “I was wondering if it might be wise to take Mr. Thurston into custody before we docked.”

  The captain turned his attention to Taylor. “Glad you reminded me. I had nearly forgotten our unwelcome passenger.”

  With no more than a nod of his head and a wave of one hand, several sailors scurried to the captain’s side. He issued their instructions and soon they were all outside the door of William Thurston’s cabin. The captain knocked, waited, and then knocked once again. When there was no sound from within, he unlatched the door.

  “He’s gone,” one of the swabbies announced. He spoke the words as though the others would not realize the cabin was empty without his verbal declaration.

  “Search the ship. I want him found,” the captain commanded.

  Taylor stared after the sailors as they scurried from the cabin. He dreaded taking the news to his uncle, but the older man was awaiting word of Thurston’s detainment. No doubt he would grow concerned if Taylor didn’t soon return.

  He entered John and Addie’s cabin and gave his uncle a feeble smile. “It appears Thurston has eluded us. He’s obviously hiding on board somewhere, but he’s not in his cabin.”

  John rubbed his forehead while listening to the news. “Just as I feared. That scoundrel should have been placed in shackles when he was first discovered on board.”

  “We’ll hope they locate him before we disembark,” Taylor replied.

  “I don’t hold out much hope they’ll be successful,” John put in.

  “If not, we’ll notify the authorities here in Boston when we go ashore. Perhaps if we offered a reward, the sailors would continue searching for him after we dock,” Taylor suggested.

  “If the crew doesn’t find him before we dock, ask the captain if he’ll notify his men we’ve posted a reward, and if found, Thurston should be delivered to the police,” John replied. “I’d much prefer to remain in Boston until he’s arrested, but I know the women are going to want to be on the first canal boat to Lowell. Once we’ve talked to the authorities, we’ll depart.”

  Lowell

  Daughtie edged her way down the spiral staircase of the Appleton and into the mill yard, anxious to return home to supper and a quiet evening. Perhaps there would be a letter from Bella waiting for her. During the noonday meal, Mrs. Arnold had mentioned that she would stop and check the afternoon mail. The thought of a letter caused Daughtie’s step to quicken as she passed through the gate and turned toward the boardinghouse.

  “A message for ya, ma’am.” The young Irish girl who had once before come to fetch her now impatiently tugged at Daughtie’s arm. The girl’s wary gaze darted about in every direction before finally settling upon Daughtie. With deliberate determination, she shoved the piece of paper into Daughtie’s hand and hurried off in the direction of Liam’s house.

  “Was that an Irish girl?”

  Daughtie startled at the sound of Ruth’s voice. “You frightened me. It’s impolite to sneak up on people,” she chastised while continuing her rapid pace toward home.

  “Sneak up? I walk home with you three times a day, six days a week. I would think you’d be expecting to see me,” Ruth rebutted. “What did the girl want? I saw her say something to you. She was over here begging, wasn’t she? We ought to turn her in to the overseer or tell Mr. Gault down in the office. Those Irish vagrants aren’t permitted to come over to this side of town and beg. You didn’t give her any coins, did you? If so, she’ll be waiting outside the gate for you every day.”

  “No, I didn’t give her anything,” Daughtie tersely responded.

  “There’s no need to become haughty. I was merely looking out for your best interests. I know how you tend to take pity on every pathetic creature you encounter, and I don’t want the girl taking advantage of your kind nature.”

  Daughtie ascended the steps leading to the front door of the boardinghouse. “Thank you, Ruth, but I do believe I can take care of myself. And it’s not my nature that causes me to take pity on the less fortunate; it’s the love of God. The
Bible says we should be kind to one another.”

  “But she’s not one of us,” Ruth said sternly as she pushed open the front door. “She’s Irish.”

  “I am quite certain that I’ve never yet seen a verse in Scripture telling me to be kind to everyone but the Irish.”

  Both girls were met with the inquisitive stares of half a dozen people. The parlor was filled with Dr. Ketter’s patients, all of whom appeared immensely interested in the girls’ conversation. Daughtie ignored the obvious interest, her gaze focused instead upon the candle table near the foot of the stairway, where she spotted a letter. Moving quickly, she picked up the missive and read the inscription. It was a letter from Bella.

  “Oh, Daughtie, I’m pleased to see you. I’m running behind with my patients. Could you possibly assist me?” Dr. Ketter inquired expectantly.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible, Dr. Ketter. I’m going to have a quick bite of supper and be on my way—errands. I’m sure Ruth would be most pleased to help, wouldn’t you, Ruth?”

  Ruth appeared surprised by Daughtie’s suggestion. “I thought you planned to stay in and do your mending and read this evening.”

  “My plans have changed,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to read Bella’s letter and be on my way within the hour.” Without waiting for a response, she raced up the stairs and unfolded the note delivered by the Irish girl.

  As she’d expected, the missive requested she come to Liam’s house at the earliest possible moment. Tucking Bella’s letter into her reticule, she hurried back down the stairs and into the kitchen, and with Mrs. Arnold’s permission, helped herself to a piece of ham and a slice of thick, warm bread.

  “Cut yourself a slice of apple pie,” Mrs. Arnold instructed considerately.