* * *
I have no choice but to leave her, Curtis reasoned, seated at his desk in the captain’s quarters of his ship. Who was he to think he could offer protection to anyone? It was his stupidity, his arrogance, which had cost the life of his best friend…
“You’re sure you boys are eighteen?” The man who’d introduced himself as Lieutenant Polson raised a dubious brow from behind a wide burgundy desk in the North Carolina, Confederate Army Recruiting Station
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant!” A tall, lanky man wearing a Major’s insignia loped importantly across the recruiting hall. “I hope you’re not discouraging our recruits.”
“No, Major Fielding. Just ensuring these here boys are of age.” The recruiter placed heavy emphasis on the word boys.
“Would you look at this tall strapping lad?” The Major slung an arm across Curtis’s shoulders. “Of course he’s eighteen. Sign your name to that roster Private, Private who exactly?”
“Langston, Major Fielding, Curtis Langston.” He eagerly lifted the pen.
“It’s Private Curtis Langston now, son, and don’t you forget it. What about you, son?” The Major turned to the second young man. “Are you ready to serve the great state of North Carolina and fight for our rights?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
Watching his friend gulp in obvious nervousness Curtis felt a brief twinge of guilt for convincing his friend to lie about his age, the two of them were just seventeen.
“Name’s Billy Cole, sir.”
“Well, then, Private Cole, you get your name on that roster too. This regiment needs a few more young go getters to chase them blue-bellies back where they belong!”
Curtis awoke with a start, slumped across the scarred oak desk in his quarters. Rubbing a thumb and forefingers across heavy lids he glanced toward the dark porthole. Would his mind never let him rest, or was he doomed to forever relive that portion of his life?
Four
September 21st, 1867
The waves licked lazily against the wooden hull keeping a rhythmic time for the singing of the hands as they expertly swung cargo up on to the ship’s deck for transport. The Heavenly Mistress couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day to set sail. The winds were favorable and now all the ship awaited was the out-going tide to assist with departure.
Huddled beneath a large crate, Cadence held her breath, sure that at any moment someone would come lumbering into the hold and discover her presence there. Her entire body shook with such fear she was sure the teeth would rattle out of her skull. This was either the stupidest thing she’d ever done or the surest means to her salvation.
As yet it was impossible to tell.
“Prepare to make way!” The call echoed throughout the ship as crewmen made final preparations.
Hurry, hurry, hurry, she chanted silently as her desire to flee the confines of the hold was surpassed only by the fear of premature discovery. It was only a matter of time before the ship’s captain and crew discovered the presence of a stowaway, but she hoped to be well away from port before said discovery was made. To be found now would squash her quest for escape before it had begun, and any hope for a life of freedom. The thought plunged her senses into a cold pool of dread. No! She shoved the idea from her mind! Whatever punishment the captain of the vessel chose for her would be far preferable to the alternative of the noose or prison. The noose might even be preferable to whatever horrors awaited a woman in prison.
The ship began to rock more freely.
Her heart in her throat, Cadence froze with a combination of horror and excitement as the realization of being swept into the open ocean dawned on her. She could actually feel the ocean current and a thrill of nerves shook her to the core. Starting now the Heavenly Mistress would put leagues behind the nightmarish turn of her life. With a tremulous sigh she stuffed an errant strand of hair back into the tweed cap confining her golden locks. She’d chopped her hair to an inch or two above shoulder length, but hadn’t the strength to shear the strands to boy’s length. Perhaps it had been a mistake not to disguise her femininity more carefully, but vanity could be powerful. That, and the knowledge she would need to look like a girl again once she reached new shores.
Cadence mouthed a silent prayer.
Her plan for escape had been hastily conceived and she knew it. Mulling over her limited options she bit into a piece of the bread she’d stored in her cloth satchel, desperate to distract herself from the events of the last day. Mentally she ran through a check list of the meager belongings she’d managed to procure for the journey: there was the shirt and pants she wore, one other change of boy clothes, and the pink dress which could be termed her best. She felt more than a little guilty. Both sets of boy clothes had been swiped from Mrs. Coven’s clothesline, but if the woman was batty enough to hang clothes in the rain she would never miss a few items. The supplies amounted to painfully little but that and the few coins she’d secured would have to be enough for a new start in London. What she would do upon arrival was yet a mystery. Her primary concern was fleeing Charleston. Dressed as a cabin boy she’d slipped aboard the Heavenly Mistress without anyone giving her a second glance.
Choosing the Mistress as her means of escape had not been an accident. Curtis Langston was a kind man. He would sooner help a wayward lad found in the hold of his ship than clap him in irons.
At least she hoped so…
Time dragged. It was impossible to measure in the darkness below decks, but at long last Cadence noticed that the sounds of the crew had quieted. Doors closed and footsteps all but ceased upon the wooden planks as the night watch took over. Tentatively, Cadence crept from the refuge of the oversize crate and stretched her aching muscles. The ship rolled suddenly, catching her off guard. She thrust out an arm bracing herself against the ship’s hull and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t fall into the precious cargo. Running the tips of her fingers along the heavy timbers she took a few unsteady steps. I’ll get my sea legs soon.
Reaching the hatch, she peered cautiously up and down the companionway. Finding no sign of another presence she crept to the ladder on tenuous feet. Hesitantly she ascended past the lower deck where the crew had slung their hammocks, creeping past snoring sailors, and up another ladder until at last the starry expanse of the sky loomed above. The sight was surely something to be revered…
Poking her head through the hatch she quickly glanced about the darkened deck. She spotted the helmsman, then a lookout. Drifting silently into the shadows Cadence was fairly certain she could avoid discovery and slowly made her way to the rail, feasting her eyes upon the nighttime sea. The stars spattered across the black sheet of night, sparkling with an intensity one could never experience from shore. The black water rippled endlessly around the vessel kissing the hull with a gentle splashing of lacy white foam. The air smelled rich and salty, a poignant reminder of Curtis and how he smelled of a mixture of salt and cool ocean air.
The sound of retching interrupted her musings and snapped her attention to a man heaving over the rail a mere ten feet from her. Shrinking into the inkier shadows it was a moment before she realized the tall figure of a man striding purposefully across the deck was none other than Captain Curtis Langston. “Are you alright, Mr. Bowen?” he asked. Her pulse quickened and Cadence gazed in awe at the easy manner with which he negotiated the ship. He walked as though born to the sea, as if the deck of the ship were solid ground beneath his feet.
“I will be soon, Cap’n, sir. Bit too much of the rum before sailing. Wouldn’t do to have the lads seein’ the first mate heavin’ his guts over the side, now would it?”
“No lads around, Mr. Bowen,” Curtis said with a chuckle, then, as if to be sure, he turned to stare directly into Cadence’s shroud of thick shadows. With a silent, sharp intake of breath she shrank down to hide behind a stack of deck cargo and whisked silently to a hatch and down a companion-way to evade his shrewd instincts. Scampering back to the deepest hold Caden
ce resolved to be more careful. If she were found out now the captain may very well turn The Heavenly Mistress back to Charleston!
* * *
Over the next few days Cadence learned every nook and cranny of the vessel, finding ways to travel through the ship without detection. Through careful observation she learned the general routine of the crew and reveled in a newfound sense of adventure. The meager food stores she’d packed waned and ended after the first week of the venture, and under cover of night she crept through the softly groaning vessel to the galley. The ship’s kitchen was impressively stocked and after a quick survey of the goods Cadence selected a few items which she hoped would not be missed. She quickly stored them in the battered cloth satchel.
“Well, what do we have here?” Cadence froze instantly as a deep voice broke the silence of the galley. Turning guiltily she found herself staring into the face of the hulking black man who served as the ship’s cook. He crossed massive arms over a broad chest and cocked a dubious brow. “Have I captured meself a stowaway?”
“I—” Cadence had no idea where to begin or what to say. She’d been caught red handed. “Yes,” she admitted glumly. “I’m a stowaway.” She forced a husky quality to her voice and cast her eyes downward in disguise.
“Sit down.” The huge man commanded scraping a wooden chair scarred through years of use toward her. “I’ll fix you somethin’ proper to eat and we will talk about what happened.” Cadence instantly obeyed and his dark face broke into a wide smile. “What you like, boy?”
Cadence glanced nervously around the galley. “Anything will do, thank you.”
“You talk like a boy with some schoolin’. Why don’t you tell old Jack your name and how you come to be hiddin’ on this here ship.”
“My name is, uh, Cam, sir,” she cleared her throat apprehensively. Cameron James.”
“And why you be here, Cam?”
A slab of bacon began to pop and sizzle in the heavy cast iron pan, her mouth watered.
“Running away, sir.” She glanced down at her hands, relieved the man was yet to scream for her to be thrown in the brig or, perhaps worse, notice she was a girl. Old Jack was silent until the bacon had cooked and he sliced off a thick slab of bread. Wrapping the meat in the bread, he slapped it onto a plate and set the food and a mug of water in front of her. “Runnin’ away from what, boy?”
“My… father,” she bit out between oversize gulps of food and water. Self-consciously she moved a hand over the bruise still darkening her face, hoping he wouldn’t expect further elaboration. Glancing into the warm brown eyes Cadence had the distinct impression that the man could see into her soul. What would he see there? Her torment? The truth?
The beefy man nodded in understanding, covering her shoulder with a meaty hand. “We’ll tell the Cap’n in the mornin’ but ‘til then you can bunk in my cot over in the back.” Jerking his head upward he continued, “I’ll stay up on deck.”
Cadence let her eyes wander to the inviting hammock swinging at the back of the galley, but her heart stopped cold in her chest with the thought of Curtis learning about a stowaway on board his ship.
Would he know her?
Her eyes were an unusual color. It may be too much to hope Curtis would not notice and realize the truth of her identity. If he found the truth, what would become of her?
For all her reasoning that he was a man who would treat a needy, wayward boy kindly she really had no idea what code of ethics or honor existed at sea. Swallowing around the hard lump of dread in her throat Cadence nodded to old Jack, knowing now that she’d been found out, there was no means of escape.
* * *
Loud voices and a clamoring of heavy feet upon the deck intruded upon the peaceful respite Cadence had found after crawling into Jack’s hammock. She sat abruptly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The first hard sleep she’d experienced in days left her brain muddled and fogged with fatigue, but when Curtis Langston erupted into the galley looking every inch a forbidding sea captain, the fog dissipated, scattering her wits to the winds. Reflexively, she drew the blanket to her chin.
“A stowaway on my ship you say?” Shrewd eyes swept the small room. Cadence shrank from the azure blaze as his eyes settled upon her. Curtis stalked angrily across the galley and grasped her underarm severely, yanking her upright. “What are you doing here, boy?”
Quickly Cadence averted her betraying violet gaze groping for an adequate response, “I, uh—I...”
“This here be Cam, Cap’n.” The burly old cook came to her aide. “Said he be needin’ to get away from his pa. Been hidin’ out for nigh on a week.”
Slowly Curtis’ gaze softened, presumably as he’d caught sight of the ugly purple bruise marring her cheek, and then twisted into a visage of uncertainty. “Do I know you?”
Convulsively she swallowed. He’d recognized her already. She knew it. She could feel the heat of his eyes drinking in the feminine curve of her face. She could imagine the fiery anger she’d see in his eyes if she met his gaze, hear the fury of his words. This had been a reckless plan from the start. He’d turn his ship around and exile her from the safety she’d sought. Involuntarily she cringed away from the twitch of his hand. She’d been hit enough times to recognize the signs. “No, sir. You might have seen me around the docks. I came on board your ship because it’s said you’re a fair man. I can work for my passage.”
“You think so, do you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What can you do?”
“I’m a fast learner, and I can read, write, and do arithmetic. I can cook a bit too. Maybe help here in the galley,” she added on a hopeful note, still managing to keep her voice husky.
Curtis raised a brow —The captain, she reminded herself. Here he was not Curtis, not the man who’d kissed her, but the captain. And unless she could convince him she’d be of some use, she was lost. “Well,” he continued, “my last cabin boy jumped ship. Think you can keep my quarters, and the mate’s in good order, and take care of other jobs Mr. Bowen, the mate, might find for you?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“On shipboard, Cam, it’s ‘aye, sir.’”
“Aye, sir.”
“Very well then. If you prove yourself useful, you might even find yourself with a permanent berth. How do you feel about some honest sailor’s work instead of sneaking around stealing from my galley stores?”
Relief surged so profoundly through her veins she was sure to collapse in weakness. For the time being her secret was safe, she was Cam. “Yes, uh, aye, Captain.” She nodded curtly, careful to avoid direct contact with his, praying her cap hadn’t come dislodged as she slept. To be certain, she gave its brim a quick tug. It seemed solid enough. She still couldn’t bring herself to hack her hair past shoulder length.
“Good, then it’s official. You will be my cabin boy for this voyage.”
“Aye, sir,” she said with another brusque nod. “Thank you, sir.”
He clapped her on the shoulder. “Come along then, I’ll introduce you to the mate. Mr. Bowen will get you started learning your duties. Your bunk will be in the small cabin just forward of mine, where you’ll be close at hand if I need you.”
Five
The first important lesson Cadence learned living aboard ship was that sailors were a damned superstitious lot. No, make that the second important lesson. The first lesson was an acute awareness of the abominable hygiene practices entertained aboard ship. She shuddered to think of the stench permeating the lower decks. The first mate had been assigned the task of teaching the new cabin boy the ways and mores of shipboard life. The majority of their hours together consisted of the mate instructing her of the overall jinxes of seafaring. It was a known fact that sailors embraced superstition as no other culture throughout history, but really this was ridiculous. It wasn’t so much the superstition that was ridiculous as what they chose to be superstitious about.
“So let me get this straight.” Cadence lifted a heavy coil of line
over her shoulder, nearly staggering under its weight. “It is bad luck to have a woman on board, but good luck to have a baby born while at sea.”
“Aye,” Mr. Bowen nodded.
“Doesn’t a woman have to be on board for a baby to be born?”
The mate didn’t miss a beat. “Right you are, but the good luck of having a baby on board counters the bad luck of the woman. You see?”
“But would that be no luck at all since one count of good luck and one count of bad luck cancel each other out?”
“Aye, now you’re seein’ the way of it.” The mate grinned. “But no luck at all is better than bad luck.”
Her head spun around what seemed a never ending and unsolvable riddle. “What about when there is a woman on board, but no baby?”
“You’re sharp as a whip, Cam, sharp as a whip,” the man chortled. “You see having a naked woman on the vessel will counter the bad luck of having a woman on board.”
Cadence blinked at least twice before her eyes widened into saucers. “Naked?”
“You know the lady adorning the bow?”
“Er, the one shaped like a mermaid?”
“Aye, well,” Mr. Bowen leaned in as though revealing a big secret. “She is our naked lady to keep misfortunes at bay.”
“Are you filling the cabin boy’s head with all of your nonsense?” Curtis strode up behind them.
“I’m sure I don’t know what nonsense you’d be speakin’ of Cap'n.” Mr. Bowen winked toward Cadence. “We were just about to be makin’ the rounds, sir. Did Cam clean your cabin satisfactorily this morning, and deliver you breakfast in good time?”
Cadence (Langston Brothers Series) Page 4
