So Trust Can’t Sail
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“I can’t go. I’ll never be able to leave,” said Lucy, her face as white as a sheet. “Please don’t make me.”
He didn’t have time for this nonsense now. He’d spent the night thinking of ways to persuade her and was ready to let his temper get away from him if necessary. But when he reached out his hand to grab her arm and pull her up into the rigging, she turned so quickly that it startled him.
Her eyes were wide open, but he couldn’t tell what she saw in them. The deck was moving beneath her feet. She took one step back and bumped against the railing. She stared at him with frightened eyes, then stepped down onto the deck again without another word.
He watched her for a minute, not knowing whether to laugh or shake his head. He’d hoped for better results than this. At least he had convinced her to sail with him. Now he needed to figure out how to keep her on board once they arrived at their destination. And that was where all his good intentions came to nothing.
She’s too smart, he thought, shaking his head again. He wanted her here, but there was no way he could take care of her himself. If only he could hire someone else to watch over her while he slept below decks. That would give him more free time.
Or did he really want to be away from her for so long? It seemed like forever since he’d last been aboard a ship. And Lucy had already spent half a year traveling across the world alone. He knew he needed to get used to being away from her again—but maybe it wouldn’t kill him to have her along for a little while longer.
After all, the sooner he got her to her uncle’s house in Boston, the sooner he could return to the West Coast. And he needed to find a wife someday anyway. He couldn’t wait much longer.
When he looked up from Lucy’s retreating form, he found Mary standing next to him.
“What are you going to do with her?” asked Mary.
“I’m taking her to her uncle’s home,” he said. “Then I need to figure something out.”
Mary sighed. “That poor child.”
She didn’t sound sympathetic in the slightest, but he shrugged off her comment.
They sat quietly together for a few moments, looking out over the water toward the distant shore.
“You’re still worried about your family, aren’t you?” asked Mary, surprising him.
“It’s complicated.” He shook his head. “The truth is, we don’t know what’s happened to them.”
“Why not ask Mr. Fletcher?” she asked. “He could help you.”
“Mr. Fletcher won’t speak of them, and I don’t blame him for wanting to protect my siblings.”
“But they were kidnapped,” she pointed out. “And there’s no telling what those people will do to them.”
“I’ve told myself all these years that I don’t want to worry them any further by asking them questions,” he replied softly. Then he leaned toward her and whispered, “If I knew what they were doing, I might be able to rescue them.”
“We’re both worried about them,” said Mary, nodding slowly, as if trying to convince herself.
Lucy climbed back up on board without another word, and Mary went after her to check on the horses, leaving him alone with his thoughts. How many years ago had his parents died? He couldn’t remember exactly, but he thought it was before Lucy was born.
He wondered how they had met. Was Mary his sister, his mother’s younger daughter? It seemed possible because the two of them had similar features, including curly dark hair and hazel eyes. But why would the kidnappers have taken his brother, too? He hadn’t heard anything about a second kidnapping.
As the crew finished preparing the sails, he watched them work, wondering how Lucy had gotten into such a desperate situation. Why would anyone kidnap a child, especially a girl who couldn’t defend herself? Maybe they weren’t interested in money. They must have seen Lucy as an easy mark—a rich kid with little experience of life. She could probably buy whatever she wanted once she arrived in New York City.
The wind suddenly picked up, and Mary rushed back aboard.
“How’s our speed?” asked Tom, leaning out of the pilot house to see where the sails were pointing.
“Still going fast,” responded Jack, a tall young man who wore a captain’s hat and held a steering pole to control the ship. “Should make port around noon tomorrow.”
A sudden gust made the deck tilt under Tom’s feet. He grabbed hold of the railings and pulled himself up into the pilot house. “What’s wrong?”
The wind gusted again and blew a wave of water against the side of the ship, soaking Jack in an instant. The spray flew up past Tom’s face.
“Damn!” cried Jack, holding his cap above his head to catch some of the rain coming through the windows. “We’re losing too much speed.”
“Maybe the tide’s gone down,” suggested Tom, looking at the horizon.
“I doubt it,” said Jack. “There was a strong breeze this morning. This shouldn’t slow us down.”
Tom stepped outside again, hoping to feel some warmth on the cold metal railing. But all he felt was the bitter chill. It had turned colder than the storm they’d ridden out two days ago. What could have caused the sudden change?
He looked up to find the sun peeking out over the gray sky. There seemed to be more cloud cover today than there had been yesterday. And now the sky seemed darker, with heavy clouds moving in from the horizon.
Mary came out onto the deck carrying her coat. She took a seat on one of the stools beside him, pulling her gloves from her pocket and putting them on. “Where is Mr. Fletcher? We should be docking soon.”
Jack walked down the steps and handed a chart to Tom. “Look what’s happening to the weather,” he said, pointing to a red line drawn on the map.
Tom looked closer and saw the wind had switched direction.
“This is bad,” he muttered. He rubbed his gloved hands together, then glanced back out to sea. The sails were still flying full force. “We can’t stay here much longer.”
“Why not?” asked Mary, confused.
“Because the wind’s changing.”
“So?”
“It’s blowing out of the northwest,” he explained. “That means we’ll be heading north into the wind.”
Mary frowned. “Isn’t that what we’re doing already?”
“Yes, but now we have to tack back toward Port Huron.” He turned to Jack. “Can you sail this ship in these conditions?”
Jack shrugged and looked uncertain.
“Then we have no choice but to take shelter until the storm blows over.”
Jack looked relieved when the crew began tying ropes around the mast. They were lowering the sails, but only halfway to securing them.
“You can lower them all the way and bring them in,” suggested Tom. “That should save a lot of time.”
“But what if there’s no wind?” questioned Jack. “If the sails aren’t secured, they may blow away and we’d never get them back in place again.”
“They’ll hold,” said Tom with confidence. “And I want to be tied up before dark.”
Tom went below decks and told Lucy to go to her cabin for a rest. Mary followed him and sat at the table as he poured them both coffee. He handed her the mug and pointed to his cup. “Don’t drink all your own,” he warned, handing her the pot and refilling his own cup. “I need someone to help me steer.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust the crew?”
“No.”
“You mean the captain.”
“Mr. Fletcher knows exactly what he’s doing,” said Tom, stirring his coffee with the spoon. “It’s just the winds are so unpredictable.”
Mary leaned back in her chair. “Is the crew safe?”
“Safe as long as Jack knows how to handle the ship.”
“But what if something goes wrong?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Tom. “But I’m sure Mr. Fletcher will make good decisions.”
Mary nodded, though she didn’t look convinced.
As they finished their coffee, the wind grew stronger. Jack climbed back up on deck and brought the sails inside. They secured the anchor, and Jack ordered the men back on board to prepare for docking.
“I want everyone on duty,” he called as he entered the main cabin.
Lucy and Mary followed him to the pilot’s house where he stood at the window watching Tom guide the ship through treacherous waters. He pulled himself up behind the wheel, making sure to keep his eyes on the compass to avoid running aground. He had to fight hard against the waves and try to maintain a straight course.
“Keep steady!” yelled Tom over the roar of the wind, his voice barely audible.
The sails flapped wildly. Water splashed over the edge of the boat. Mary held onto the railing for dear life. The deck vibrated beneath her feet. She was glad she wore a sturdy pair of shoes, otherwise, she might have fallen off.
Suddenly, Jack reached down and grabbed her arm, yanking her back. He steadied her and guided her to the safety of the pilot house. “Are you hurt?” he asked, checking to see if her hand was wet with seawater. He shook it. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I’ve never been on a sailing ship before,” she said, looking out to the bow where Tom was fighting the wind with all his strength. “I thought you had to fight the wind, but now it seems like we’re going right into its teeth.”
“We’re getting closer,” explained Jack. “That’s why we have to slow down.”
“But it’s so cold, even with the fire blazing.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Will we have to sail all night?”
“Only if we need to,” answered Jack. “But we should reach land by sunrise.” He gave Tom another signal to turn the rudder. The wind continued whipping against the ship. Mary felt sick to her stomach and dizzy. She closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping still.
“Do you think anyone saw us?” she whispered.
“There’s no reason for concern.” Jack took her hand. “This is the quickest way to Port Huron.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He kissed her fingers and then turned to watch Tom steer through the storm. After several hours, he signaled Jack and Tom to take their stations again. Then they waited as the wind finally died down, though rain pelted down from above. It made it impossible to see the horizon, which seemed like a blessing.
“We’ll be tied up at Port Huron tomorrow morning,” said Jack, rubbing his hands together as if the chill had suddenly disappeared. “By then, we’ll be far enough north that I can send word home and let my family know you’re safe.”
She glanced over at him curiously. “You don’t mind me being with you?”
Jack grinned and touched her face with his warm palm. “I never imagined having anyone special to share all this with.” He paused as the wind picked up once more. “But you’re special.”
***
Lucy woke with a start when Mary jumped up and ran to the deck. She rubbed her tired eyes and looked over to Jack, who also looked exhausted. “Why did she come along?” he asked her.
“Because I needed help,” explained Mary. “And she doesn’t have anyone else.”
“So she has no family to miss her,” observed Tom.
“That’s true.”
“Don’t worry, Miss O’Connor, we won’t be here long,” said Jack. “Just until we get to Port Huron.”
Mary nodded. “What time is it?”
“Two-thirty A.M.,” said Lucy. “We should be arriving around dawn.”
Mary returned to the pilot’s house with a smile on her lips.
“Did someone say sunrise?” asked Jack, looking out the window at the clouds.
“Yes,” said Mary. “Port Huron is just ahead of us.”
He turned away from the window and walked over to the stove in the middle of the main cabin. He lifted a pan and filled it with boiling water. The kettle whistled loudly when it was done.
“We should be there by sunrise,” he added. “Then we’ll tie up and wait for morning.” He handed her the steaming cup of tea and then took one for himself.
As she sipped her drink, Mary couldn’t believe how much had happened since she’d stepped aboard the ship that first day. In such a short time, she’d experienced more than she could ever have imagined.
First, she went undercover to find out what John Wilkes Booth really wanted—not because of any personal reasons, but because of the people, he would harm. And after learning about the plot against Abraham Lincoln, she knew that finding Booth was the only thing that mattered. But now that it was over, she had no idea what to do next.
“Where will we go after Port Huron?” she asked. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Back to New York,” answered Jack. “It’s safer there.”
“Safe is not always better,” countered Mary.
“Maybe,” agreed Jack, watching the waves roll under the bow. “But for now, we’ll keep our heads down and stay off the streets.”
“How long will we have to wait?” she wondered aloud.
“Depends on whether or not the Union soldiers are still searching for us,” replied Jack. “If they catch us now, we might end up doing a lot worse than waiting.” He looked over at Mary. “But once we get to port, things will change.”
“Change?”
He nodded. “For starters, I have to let my wife know you’re alive.” He smiled. “I’ve missed you something terrible these past few days.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Mary confessed.
“Now that this is over, I plan on telling everyone about how good it feels to have someone to love.” He held out the teacup toward her. “Care to join me? Or do you want to sleep some more?”
“I’d rather stay awake,” said Mary, accepting the mug. “But I’ll take another nap soon.”
“Good,” said Jack, sitting across from her. He leaned forward and placed his hands flat against his knees. “The longer we hide out, the more difficult it will be for anyone to find us.”
“Is there anything else we should worry about?” asked Mary, wondering if there were any other enemies waiting for them in Port Huron.
Jack shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“Then we can rest easy in Port Huron,” said Mary.
Jack laughed. “Sleep well, my dear.”
When he rose to leave the pilot’s house and return to his own room, Mary watched him walk out of sight before going to the back of the room where Tom was already sleeping. She slipped quietly through the opening between the wall and ceiling into Tom’s bed, careful not to wake him. After settling in under the covers, Mary felt herself drifting away to a place where there was nothing but peace and quiet.
The End