The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection

by Jennifer Lynn Cary

  Mother raised her head. “Do ye need something, Maybe?”

  She shook her head, sorry to have disturbed things.

  Mother patted the chair next to her. “Do ye ken how to knit?”

  Maybe took the seat. “A wee bit. I’m no good at it, though.”

  “Then let me help you. Making baby things is the perfect practice. Here, I have some extra yarn and needles. Do ye ken casting on?”

  “Aye. Thank ye.” Maybe tried her hand. It had been sometime since she’d tried to knit, and as she’d never been skilled with the craft, it was tough to get started.

  Mother set her project down and showed Maybe and then handed it back, giving her a chance to try. “There ye go, lass. Now do that about a hundred more times and ye can start a blanket for yer wee one.” She smiled. “And by doing it that many times, yer hands will remember.”

  Maybe had no doubt they would.

  * * *

  Eleazar had surveyed the tall man who paced back and forth in front of his house. He’d made a small opening in his draperies that allowed him to peek at the world without being seen. It amazed him the things one could view when no one knew they were under scrutiny. He’d walked to the door but never knocked. When past twilight and the man long gone, Eleazar opened his door. At first he saw nothing. But then he spotted an envelope. It stuck out along the hinge side of the door. He brought it in and stared at it for over an hour, trying to be analytical. Why would someone leave him an envelope? Was there something dangerous about it? Did one of his former assistants send him a message? He dismissed that idea as none of them were that tall.

  His curiosity grew, but the fear churning in his gut cried out for caution. Finally, his bed won out as curiosity and fear were at a stalemate.

  * * *

  Maybe had knit three rows, as neat as she could, by the time Willie returned. “Look what yer mother taught me to do.” She held up her needles with the small bit of yellow yarn. “Can ye see what it is?”

  His eyes squinted, and he scratched his head. “A very long baby scarf?”

  “No, silly man, ’tis a baby blanket.” She smacked his arm.

  He grabbed at his injury as if mortally wounded. “Ow! That was my second guess, honest!”

  The women laughed. It was Willie being Willie. Maybe loved this playful side of him.

  “May I take this to our room, Mother?”

  “Of course, love. Sweet dreams to ye both.”

  Maybe kissed her cheek, and Willie followed suit before entwining his fingers with hers. His touch still sent tingles everywhere. She returned a squeeze before letting him lead her to their private place. He still wanted her, desired her, even though she was growing rounder with each passing day. It was a miracle. She wanted to wrap it up like a precious gift and hang on to it forever. Because she knew, this was too good.

  Something would happen and ruin it.

  But, if she just sealed this good into her memory, she might still remember that once she held happiness in her arms and it loved her back.

  * * *

  Come morning, Eleazar washed and dressed, tugged on his long sleeves, dusted off his shiny boots, and polished the crystal of his pocket watch before coming back downstairs. The envelope still waited. Well, it could continue to wait until after his coffee and whatever foods the constable supplied for breaking his fast.

  Finally, he finished putting it off. His curiosity won. He lifted the seal and first noted the money. Thirty-five pounds. Who would give him money?

  He returned to the letter, but that left him more puzzled. It appeared as if a child wrote the note. Not the giant oaf who delivered it last night. Inspecting, he worked out the gist of the words. When the meaning became clear, he drew in a breath. Someone knew about the sale with O’Malley. What else did they know? Who was this?

  And then it hit him.

  Whoever wrote the note had information on where to find her. Money or no money, he earned that girl. None of this humiliation would have happened if she hadn’t run. She belonged to him, and he would find her if it was the last thing he did.

  * * *

  Willie noticed the men enter the shop before his father did, so he went to offer his help. “Welcome, how can we be of service?”

  Of the two, the first assumed charge, the other remained quiet. “Well, we’ve got this grab chain hook here that won’t last the trip to Puerto Rico, so we were wondering if you could fix it or fashion another.”

  Willie held out his hand. “Let me see.”

  The quiet man handed it to him.

  Willie recognized the piece. “You say you’re headed to the Caribbean?”

  “Aye.”

  Willie continued to turn it over in his hand, memories of being at sea splashing over his brain. “Then you want this fixed. We can do it. Off the mizzen or the main?”

  “Mizzen. You know ships?”

  “Some. Sailed on the Frances Pearl to Ireland and back.”

  “You did now. Sam Johnson’s the boatswain on her, right? Word is he runs a tight ship.”

  “Aye. He’s firm but fair. A good man.”

  “That’s what I heard too. Well, if you were good enough to sail with Sam Johnson, you’re good enough to sail with us. I need another crewman to fill the roster. What do you say, laddie? Tired yet of being a landlubber?”

  Willie laughed, and for a brief instant he thought about the wind and manning the wheel. But then he saw Maybe, standing at the rail, stunning even dressed as a boy. She was here. So was his heart. “No, sorry, I’m not interested. I have a wife, and she’s expecting. I’m staying put.”

  “If you change your mind, you can tell us when we come back for the part. When will it be ready?”

  Tossing the part in his hand, Willie put the last of his sea dreams away. “I can have it ready this afternoon. Say three o’clock?”

  “Done. We’ll be back then.”

  Willie waved as they left. Funny, he hadn’t thought about going to sea once since they came home. Not something he would choose again. However, if there was no Maybe, would he do it? Willie shook his head. He didn’t want to know.

  * * *

  Maybe straightened their room, made the bed. Standing in the doorway, she saw something crumpled in the corner. A piece of paper.

  She picked it up, thinking to toss in the trash, when her curiosity got the better of her. She pulled it open. Childish scrawl, with ink over pencil, stared back. Why would the younger girls…? Her breath came hard as she deciphered the words.

  Mastr Fergsn, plese find enclsd the pris of therty ponds for one grl purchsed from Danel O’Maly plus anther five punds for yor trubl.

  She sank on the bed. He did it. She said no, but he did it. What was she to do now?

  * * *

  Maybe replaced the last pot on the shelf, wiped her hands on her apron, and went in search of Eliza. They didn’t talk as much as she thought they would. Coming over on the ship, they had caught up with each other’s lives, though Maybe had lied, saying she and Willie married secretly in New York but had to hide it from the crew. She couldn’t face telling her sister the truth.

  But somehow, the lie became a wedge between them. Maybe feared saying too much in case she exposed her lie. Now Eliza even seemed to prefer Aphra’s company to hers. Well, they were close in age.

  But today she needed to talk with her sister. There was no one else. It wouldn’t be fair to burden Mother, she was really Willie’s mother. Even if it meant telling Eliza more than she wanted to tell her, she needed to find her sister. She needed someone to help her know what to say to Willie.

  Eliza wasn’t in the sitting room or kitchen. Upstairs, Maybe knocked on the girls’ door and marched in without waiting.

  Aphra was alone, washing at the basin. She gasped, spun around and grabbed her dress, holding it in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, Aphra. Was just looking for Eliza. Sorry.” Maybe retreated to her own room. Though Aphra had turned to face her, covering herself with her
dress, she wasn’t quick enough. The scars on her back, arms and chest—from burns and cuts—glared at her. All places modest dress would cover, but when revealed told the story of the tortures she endured at the hands of Eleazar Ferguson.

  That could be her.

  Maybe grabbed the chamber pot and lost her lunch.

  * * *

  Maybe was quieter than usual throughout supper. Willie tried teasing, whispering in her ear, but she pushed him away. He hoped no one else noticed, but he knew. Something was wrong.

  After things were clean and put away, she didn’t wait for him but went straight upstairs. He followed and closed their door behind him. “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong? I feel you are angry with me.”

  “Guess you’re not as stupid as I thought.”

  Stupid? She thought him stupid? His heart dropped to his gut. Had she always? “Why do you say that?”

  “Dinna I say no to sending that note? Just yesterday, dinna I say no?”

  Oh, no. How had she found out? Then he wanted to call himself stupid. The messed-up page. He’d left it on the floor. “I know you said no, but I had to fix this. We have everything else taken care of, but if the law becomes involved, I don’t know what might happen.”

  “What did your father say?”

  Willie stared at his feet, willing them to send up the right words.

  “Ye dinna ask him, did ye? We come back here so ye can learn from yer father, and when the most important thing we have to deal with at the moment rises, ye try out yer own idea without asking his opinion?”

  He sighed. “You are right. It was a stupid thing to do. I’m sorry.”

  Her hands straddled what was left of her hips. She still seemed angry.

  “Maybe, I really am sorry. Honest. Even when I mess up, I’m trying to do the right thing. Please.” He tried giving her the look that got him out of trouble with his mother. Not that Maybe was like his mother, but at this point he was willing to try whatever it took. “Come on, can’t you forgive your oaf?”

  She sighed. “Ye really are an oaf some days, Willie Crockett. But ye are my oaf.”

  “So you aren’t angry?”

  “Oh, aye, I am angry, just not as much.”

  He could live with that. “I say let’s change the subject. What shall we talk about?” He took a step in her direction.

  She didn’t move, so he took another. Three more steps and he had closed the gap between them. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms about her disappearing waist. “What did you do today wife?”

  “Besides the usual of helping with meals and lessons and working on the baby blanket?”

  He nuzzled her ear while his hands wandered to her growing belly, waiting for the little flutter. “Um”

  “Suppose ye tell me about yer day.”

  By now he was trailing kisses down her neck. “I was offered a position on a ship sailing for the Caribbean tomorrow.”

  She spun in his arms and pushed him away. “What?”

  “I said I was—”

  “I heard ye, I jist canna believe it? What of yer promises? What about ye would never leave me? Was that jist until another ship docked?”

  He stared at her. There were no words he could form. How did she jump to the conclusion that he took the job? The walls closed in more than they had since they’d returned. He shook his head and headed out the door.

  “Then away with ye! Go sail your ship! See if I care!”

  Each word stabbed him deeper. “Perhaps I will!” He headed outside for air.

  * * *

  Sarah grabbed Joseph’s hand as the angry voices floated past, followed by the sound of two slamming doors. He understood. He squeezed her hand and followed his son.

  Catching up before he turned toward the bluff, Joseph touched the boy’s shoulder. “Slow down a mite, son. Let’s walk to the commons.”

  Willie returned a brief nod and slowed his pace, moving in the direction Joseph suggested.

  Flashes of memory, recalling the last time they had made this walk, sparked in Joseph’s mind causing him to consider his words. He still thought he could have kept his son from running off to sea if he’d framed his advice different. Perhaps not, considering what he’d learned of Maybe’s situation. If he’d kept his son from the sea, what would have become of that young woman? Too many questions to answer. Tonight the ones to focus on now had to do with how to help his son and daughter-in-law.

  Joseph found the large rock he’d used for a seat the last time and sat watching Willie pace, as per his nature, and kick about oyster shells. Patience was his friend. He needed to stay patient until Willie was ready to talk.

  The pacing stopped. Willie ran a hand through his hair. “I’m lost, Da. I try and try to do things the right way, to protect her, to help her. She must realize that I love her, am here for her. Just when I start to get through, something always happens.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  “No. And yes. I need to explain, tell you stuff I don’t want to say. So you can understand. You won’t like me much. I don’t like myself much when I remember.” He ground the toe of his boot into the dirt.

  Joseph could guess, though he didn’t want to think of his son like that. It was too late for recriminations, though, so he remained silent.

  “Maybe told me you and Mama know who she is. What you don’t know is that O’Malley sold her to pay his debts. He sold her to Eleazar Ferguson. She found out and ran away. I found her, or rather she found me, up on the bluff. I wanted to help her, Da. So I came up with this idea. We dressed her as a boy, and I cut her hair. Then we signed on to the Frances Pearl and left. The plan was to get her to Ireland where I’d help her find her sister, and then leave, go back to sea. Only things happened. I guess I fell in love with her. But I realized if I acted on it, things would be more dangerous for her. No one could recognize she wasn’t a boy.”

  He began pacing again, his hands more expansive. “Then one night we went ashore in Boston. It is a long story, but I assumed I was man enough to try some ale. I learned later my friends substituted whiskey without my knowledge. It didn’t take much. I wasn’t used to it.” Even in the moonlight, Willie’s cheeks had more color, and it wasn’t from the chilly December air. “Maybe found me and my companions. There was a rule about coming aboard drunk. She didn’t want me flogged, so she hid me. From what they told me, I was pretty loud. There’s much I don’t remember. She kept trying to shut me up and as a last resort, she kissed me.”

  Joseph scooted over and made room to share his seat on the rock. “You don’t have to tell me.

  Willie plopped next to him. “I need to. You need to understand it is my fault. Come morning, when I tried to remember, the memories came back. It shocked me. I’d let my guard down, knowing I couldn’t get involved with her if I was protecting her. Then I took advantage. I was so ashamed.” He had yet to meet Joseph’s gaze.

  “Later we talked, and I apologized. I had already told her I’d stay until she found her sister, but in my head I planned to court her once in Ireland, and ask for her hand. Make things right, for her. While on ship, that was impossible.” He kicked a shell. “Well, we had some delays getting to Ireland, a few months in fact. Then Maybe fell from the Jacobs ladder. When the surgeon checked her, he discovered she was a girl and with child.” For the first time, Willie caught Joseph’s gaze. “I swear, I didn’t know until that moment.”

  “I believe you, son.” And he did.

  “The boatswain agreed to keep things quiet, for Maybe’s sake, but had the master of the ship marry us right then. We were less than two days from landing at Bantry Bay. Ever since I have done everything I can imagine doing, Da.”

  “Such as?”

  “I tell her how much I love her. I do everything to protect her, care for her. I even sent a note and paid Eleazar Ferguson thirty-five pounds so he has no legal recourse. She tells me she just wants to be herself. If she doesn’t have to hide from him anymore, that should help, righ
t?”

  Joseph stood, grabbing his son by the shoulders. “You did what?” He could shake that boy.

  “I paid Eleazar thirty-five pounds and wrote him a note.”

  “Oh, William. That man has no regard for legality. You have only told him she is hiding somewhere in the community. What if he saw you?” For the first time since Willie came home, Joseph felt worry gnawing in his belly.

  “Maybe asked if I had talked to you about the idea. She didn’t like it and told me not to, but I thought it was the best way to protect her.”

  “Who wrote the note for you?” How many others now knew about this?

  “I wrote it. Da, I know my writing it terrible, but I was careful. I wrote in pencil and then traced with quill and ink. I got a splotch on the first try so wadded it up and tossed it aside, planning to get rid of it later, but Maybe found it. That’s what started the fight. But I thought we had it worked out, that she forgave me.”

  Joseph sighed. There was more? “What happened?”

  “We began talking about our day. I told her some men offered me a position on a ship heading to the Caribbean, but before I could say I turned it down, she assumed I was leaving her. She yelled and screamed, saying she thinks I’m stupid. I guess I am, but I wouldn’t lie to her. I promised her I’d never leave her, I don’t want to leave her. Why can’t she just trust me?”

  Joseph shook his head. His son needed to hear some hard facts. “Willie, there is something I need to share with you that all expectant fathers should understand. Mothers-to-be carry two lives, sometimes more. That changes more than just their figures. It changes how they see the world, how they see themselves. It questions everything they ever took for granted. A woman runs a gamut of emotions that would make a man go mad. Yet, for the gift of a child, she does it.” He wrapped his arm about his son’s shoulders. “Maybe isn’t doing this on purpose. She feels out of control and scared, and in all that she’s terrified you will leave and needs reassurance of your love.”