Her eyelids fluttered before he saw those violet orbs that so dangerously drew him in. “Willie.” Neither surprise nor disapproval. Simply his name on her lips.
“Aye. So… you didn’t tell me.”
“What would ye have done? We’re on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic. No one is supposed to suspect I’m a girl. What could ye do?”
He came near the bed and enveloped her hand in his. “I could’ve shared your secret so you wouldn’t have been alone. It would have been our secret until we got to Ireland.”
“And what then? After we find my sister, you are off to sea again.” She pulled her hand back.
“No, you don’t understand. I—”
The door opened. The master and boatswain entered, closing the door behind them. “I hear we have a wedding to perform.”
Maybe pushed herself up, staring at each man’s face.
Suddenly Willie wasn’t sure getting married was the right idea.
“What do ye mean, a wedding? Sir, I confided in ye. Are ye sharing my secret with others?”
Boatswain Johnson stepped to the bed, so Willie stepped away. “I told one person, someone with the ability to make things right. The master can perform the ceremony. You will be married.”
“And what if I don’t want to marry Willie?” She straightened her back, tipping her chin a tad.
The master paled.
Willie froze, stunned.
But the boatswain chuckled. “You are telling me you do not love this lout?”
Maybe’s cheeks pinked. “He’s not a lout.” She stared at the bedclothes, picking at the blanket. “Aye, I love him.” Turning her gaze to Willie, she added, “But how do I know he loves me?”
“You know because anyone with a brain can see it.” The boatswain turned to Willie. “Tell her, man. Tell her what you told me.”
“Ye told him? But not me?” Maybe’s eyes glistened.
“It’s what I was trying to say when they came in.” Willie glanced at the other men and then swallowed his pride. Private would’ve been better, but he’d say it from the top of the main. “Aye, I love you, Maybe. Like I’ve loved no one else. I love you and am asking you to marry me.”
“Are ye now?” She sniffed and swiped a hand over her eyes. “Then I guess I’m saying aye. I will marry ye, William Crockett.”
The boatswain and master both peered at him.
“If my secret is out, then so is yers. And I’ll not be marrying ye with a made-up name. Elizabeth Boulay is marrying William Crockett or there will be no wedding.”
This was silly. The chuckle erupted like laughter in church. The men stared as if he’d lost his mind, but Maybe understood. “Aye, lass, William Crockett the Oaf is marrying Miss Elizabeth Boulay. I’m not about to let another man marry my Maybe girl.”
She held out her hands, he wrapped them with his own.
The master came near the bed and the ceremony began. No pomp. No sermon. Nothing but a few questions followed by a chaste kiss. But he was now a married man. Married to a lovely lass.
* * *
Married. She was married to Willie. The wonder of it left unfathomable thoughts whirling through her brain. What about the rest of the trip? How could she have a wedding night and the crew not discover she was a girl… woman? A married woman.
The master cleared his throat and nodded toward the door. Boatswain Johnson nodded back, and they stepped out, leaving her alone with Willie. Her new husband.
A shyness shrouded her, she pulled the bedclothes higher.
“No worries, wife. I’ll not be forcing myself on you.”
She glanced at him. Willie wore a pained look. Did he do it for the others?
He must have noticed something in her face because he reached for her hand. “We will figure this out together. This isn’t what we would’ve planned, but the result, being married, is what I wanted. Is it what you wanted?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Are you worried that the rest of the crew will learn our secret?”
He said “our.” The shyness, the fear, evaporated with that one little word. “I was.”
“I will say nothing unless you want it said. I believe the others won’t either. It makes it a little difficult for a wedding night.” His cheeks grew ruddier, and she loved him even more.
“Ireland isn’t that much farther. Can we wait for there?”
He nodded. “Aye. We’ll wait for as long as you say. I love you, Maybe.”
Oh, he made her smile. “I could do with another kiss, though.” She grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer.
He obliged.
Chapter Sixteen
No one else had uttered the word arson, but the way the justice of the peace and the constable kept the investigation going, Joseph was sure the idea had crossed their minds. Another neighbor shared information on the whereabouts of the judge’s family. Joseph had been willing to take the news, but the reverend volunteered. A much better idea, and it lifted a load off Joseph’s shoulders. Willing was one thing, wanting to do it was another.
The Turner boys fit in well, though it was obvious they missed being with their family. Joseph, along with his sons and the guests, joined with the rest of the men in the community to remove the damage and reframe the Turner’s new home. Within a week, the biggest part of the job was complete.
In two weeks, the Turners were in their home. Yet, there was still much to do. Community members donated everyday housekeeping things—pots, pans, utensils, linens, even furniture. It reminded Joseph of how the early church worked together, and it spoke to his heart.
A few days after their guests left, Henry Waddington and Thomas Miller stopped by the house.
Joseph was coming from his workshop and spotted them speaking with Sarah at the door. “Good day, gentlemen. How can I help you?”
“Ah, Master Crockett, just the man we need to see. Might we have a word?” The justice of the peace took charge. By all appearances, Thomas was not there on his own accord. Oh, well.
Sarah allowed the men to pass. “Come in, come in. Ye can talk in the parlor.”
They followed her. Joseph brought up the rear, closing the door. Sarah offered tea, but the men declined. “Then I will leave ye to speak in private.” She curtsied and left.
Joseph motioned to the chairs. “Please sit, tell me what’s on your mind.”
Thomas continued to glance about the room. Did he recall his last trip here?
Henry cleared his throat. “You are aware we are making investigations into the fire?”
“Aye.”
“Joseph, let me get to the point. I have an uneasiness, there’s more to this than the judge falling asleep with his pipe. It makes no sense. He was too careful. We had no storms in the area, no lightning to cause the fire. I, um, I hate to voice this without proof, but my rumbling stomach says the fire was deliberate.”
“But you have no proof.”
“That is correct.” Henry’s hands didn’t want to settle anywhere. First, they rubbed his breeches, then folded together, then slapped his knees. “But it roils in my gut, and you understand.”
Joseph nodded. “I’ve had an ugly feeling about this since the first day. But, like you, I have no proof.”
“I don’t want to make an unfounded accusation. So I’m at a loss on how to proceed.” Henry rose and paced. “Have you an idea?”
“Possibly, but it’s not a good one.”
Henry stopped pacing and stared him down. “Well, go on, man, what is it?”
“First, are we on the same page? Who might be behind this? Do you have someone in mind?”
Thomas harrumphed. “You might as well spit it out. You know good and well that you think Eleazar Ferguson is behind this.” He looked from Joseph to Henry and back. “It’s true.”
Henry nodded. “Aye, it’s true. The man is having difficulties getting even his basic needs met. No one will do business with him. A new community won’t help because of t
he brand. If he starves, it’s as good as if we’d hung him and less kind. A slow death.”
“But that’s not the whole reason.” Joseph wasn’t about to add his thoughts without knowing what they’d learned.
“No, that’s not all. You were there in the courtroom. Remember what he tried to do before they took him to the pillory? He screamed bloody murder that he’d get the judge, see him dead.”
“That would make him the perfect scapegoat for the crime, if someone else had planned it, wouldn’t it?” Though Thomas was the one to point it out, it also occurred to Joseph.
“Aye, that is true. You understand why this situation so difficult.”
“Then we have two problems. First, we need to learn if the fire was deliberate and two, somehow we need to meet Master Ferguson’s basic needs. It’s understandable why people won’t do business with him, but we cannot allow him to starve.”
Plopping in the chair again, Henry rested his hands on his knees. “So, what do you propose?”
“He won’t take charity from you or me, and I doubt there’s a money problem. Perhaps if, as part of your job as constable, Thomas, you stopped to look in on him. You could volunteer to check that stores are delivered to his door—if you had a boy take them and bring you the money? Could you get him to agree to such an arrangement?”
The constable shrugged. “I do not know. But what would people be saying about me if they see me associating with him? This job is thankless enough. I don’t need to be making enemies.”
“If it’s part of your job, it’s not anyone’s business to judge. The welfare of the community is your responsibility. If the man starves or, when the temperatures drop, gets too cold and commits a crime to stay alive, what would they say? You are keeping a community member safe. And, by extension, the rest of the community. If he has his basic needs, he’s less likely to do anything drastic—such as stealing out of desperation.” Joseph couldn’t believe the man was that dense.
Henry sat back, looking less worried. “That sounds like a good plan. And Thomas, should you learn anything while you are there, you are to share that information with us.”
“Spy? Me? I can do the good deed, but I draw the line at spying.”
Joseph shook his head. “We’re not asking you to spy. Your job is straight forward welfare. Should you, while doing your job, notice anything, you can tell us. But that’s not the reason for this assignment.”
Henry cleared his throat. “But don’t forget your first responsibility is to protect this community. Do not let something slip past you because you’re worried about offense.”
Thomas grimaced, looking trapped. Joseph almost felt sorry for him. If he wasn’t such a coward, perhaps he would. But he asked for much of the troubles he received.
“So, do we have a plan?” Joseph wanted the men gone. This was his home. He didn’t need his daughters walking in on such a discussion.
“Aye.” Henry stood, signaling Thomas to his feet.
Joseph rose. “This is too important to rush ahead. I do not think the judge ever considered letting the man starve when he made his judgment. Thomas, it’s obvious you are not pleased with this plan. If you have a better one, we’ll listen.”
The constable, hands shoved into his pockets, shook his head while staring at the floor. “No, no other idea.”
Henry took charge again. “Then we’ll be going. Thank you, Joseph.”
The men shook hands, he walked them to the door. Joseph was glad to be done with the ugliness. He watched them walk away and closed his mind to the questions.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he took a moment. The more he tried to protect his family, the more he got drawn into things. None of this happened before Willie left. So he couldn’t have anything to do with this. He wasn’t even here. But something about his leaving triggered something. All he had were puzzle pieces. Nothing fit together. Oh, Willie, when will you be home?
* * *
Eleazar Ferguson heard the sound and had to remind himself what it was. Someone knocked. Who would dare? He peeked between the closed draperies and spotted that dotty constable on his step.
A chill went down his spine. Did he suspect?
No, the man was a cretin. He couldn’t conjure his own thoughts.
But had someone sent him?
He let out his breath. The only way to find out required acknowledging the man. He could handle just that one man, if he must. Perhaps it wouldn’t come to that.
Eleazar pulled open the door. He remained silent, though, not giving him any help in his mission, whatever it may be.
Thomas Miller looked shocked. Perhaps he didn’t think the door would open to him. Well, normally it wouldn’t, but Eleazar wasn’t in the mood for more problems.
“Uh, Master Ferguson, sir. You’re home.”
“Where else would I be?”
“Right. I, um, might you use some food stores?” He indicated a crate in his hands.
Eleazar stared. Perhaps he misjudged the idiot, but that was doubtful. There was more to this. He must proceed with caution, and there was no reason to make it easy. “Why?”
“Well, I just thought…” The constable shrugged and turned to go.
“Wait.” Might he use the creature?
“Aye?”
Too much interest would tip him off, but if the fool had a reason to keep him coming back… “Would you be interested in a business deal?”
“What type deal?” Already his eyes glanced to and fro.
“Nothing wrong, I assure you. I would pay you if you would bring necessities on a regular basis? I’ll pay for the supplies and for your time. It is rather difficult to leave here these days.” The bitterness had to come out, it refused to be stopped.
The constable nodded. “Aye, that would be acceptable.”
Eleazar was sure it would be. “Perhaps I should check what you brought and then let you know what I still need? I’m happy to pay you for this delivery. Would you like to come in?”
The twit shook his head a bit too quick. Apparently, he wasn’t completely altruistic and still worried about his own reputation. No matter.
“Perhaps another time.” When no one might see him. “Let me take this crate inside. I’ll be back in a thrice.” Eleazar closed the door and took the food stuffs to his very empty larder. Nothing seemed left out at the moment. Besides, if he sent the creature away, he would have more time to ponder, to plan, to work this in his favor. A satisfied sigh escaped. Aye, he would turn this, and no one would see what he had planned until too late.
* * *
Later that night, as Joseph held her, Sarah sensed the tightness in his muscles. Earlier she noticed those little lines between his brows were deeper. Something worried him. She stroked the insistent curl that always claimed his forehead back into place and let her fingers glide along his temple and jaw. “Won’t ye tell me what has you so worried, love?”
His sigh warmed her neck. “I don’t want to burden you with my imaginings.”
She pushed back from him. “Since when do we not share our burdens? I can tell when you worry, and my imagination is good enough to construct worse things than what might be happening.”
His chuckle told her he was ready to open up to her. “Aye, you do have an imagination, love.” He pulled her close. “I am struggling with my thoughts. I have no proof but I think Eleazar Ferguson set the fire. I don’t know how to get proof. And if I am wrong, I cannot take it back. Already the man has become a pariah. No one will do business with him. He cannot even buy food. So, the meeting today was to figure out what to do. Thomas Miller will make it an official part of his business to see that the man won’t starve. I have no doubt of his guilt from the trial, but it almost would have been kinder to hang him rather than put him through all this.”
“But if he didn’t set the fire, and God uses this trial to save his soul, wouldn’t that be better?”
His nod brushed her cheek. “Aye, love. You would remind me of that. Sometimes God
must get us into the struggle where there’s no hope without His intervention. He used the Benefit of Clergy and could read the Scripture without pause.”
“But it is a struggle in ye, I can feel it.”
“Aye. If that had been Beth, I would have torn him apart. And now that Aphra is part of our household, I could do it for her. There’s a war inside me, that is sure. To do what is right, to show mercy after what he did. But I cannot stand by and let him starve to death.” His voice quavered.
“Yer a good man, Joseph Louis Crockett, Sr. I love ye for it, and I trust yer heart. Yer a godly man, one who listens. Ye will hear and obey. I’m sure.”
He kissed the top of her head and soon relaxed in her arms. Before long his breathing changed, telling her he slept. She lay there, fully awake, aware of the weight of his burden.
In truth, she didn’t know if she would be as charitable as her husband. She’d seen the physical scars from where Eleazar had beat and burned Aphra. The girl had come out of her shell only to revert back once he was sent home from the pillory. She still jumped at any strange sound, and it was Aphra who first made her consider arson as more than a fleeting thought. The girl was sure Eleazar Ferguson was behind the whole thing.
There was some good coming out of having the girl stay with them. Beth also made strides at coming out of her shell. In fact, Beth was very protective of Aphra, treating her in much the same way as Willie used to treat Beth. Sarah smiled in the dark as her heart warmed.
She must trust Joseph. He would do what was right for all concerned. She just hoped it wouldn’t cost them too dearly if he erred too well on the side of mercy.
Chapter Seventeen
Stuck in bed with a twisted ankle, Maybe reminded herself to be thankful it wasn’t broken. The memory of setting her stepfather’s arm rushed back while the surgeon wrapped her injured foot and calf—something he’d waited to do until after the ceremony—setting off a whirlwind of thoughts. She’d experienced enough these last four months to last a lifetime.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 74
