Petals on the River (43 page)

meal.
 
Raves of delight and appreciation soon followed as the workers

began to devour the stew they had piled on the potatoes and to wolf down

the bread.
 
The jug of cool cider was handed around several times to

fill the tin cups, quenching the thirst of the men.
 
By the time the

spice cake was passed, some of them had begun to groan in mock agony.

For the first time since being bought by Gage Thornton, Shemaine found

herself able to eat the portion of food she had taken on her plate, but

the weight of it on her stomach made her drowsy.
 
She yearned to take

Andrew back to the cabin for his afternoon nap, but it was obvious, with

Gillian near at hand, that the boy would not be willing to leave soon.

Gage had chosen to sit on a keg of nails at the end of the makeshift

table, and when he finally pushed away his plate, he tilted the keg back

slightly, leaning against the roughed-in structure of the rail.
 
From

that particular vantage point, he was able to consider his men and the

enjoyment they had derived from the meal.
 
He was sure at the moment

that Shemaine could have been a warty old toad and his men would have

admired her just the same for her talent with food.

Gage allowed his men a few moments of rest before they returned to their

labors, for it was evident they needed it after such a hearty meal.
 
The

younger men were given the chore of collecting the dirty dishes, the

empty kettle and the last bit of food, which they garried back to the

cabin while Shemaine remained on deck with Andrew for a few moments

longer.
 
She wandered around with the boy, admiring the fine workmanship

of the craft as Gage discussed the difficulties they were having with

some improperly seasoned compass timber that Gillian had brought up from

the shed.

" Em shakes'll be splittin' on us afore the week is out, Cap'n. We'll be

havin' ta take em out soon an' replace em," Flannery Morgan advised his

employer.

"Then do it if it must be done," Gage replied with simple logic. "

Twould appear we've no other choice."

Andrew spied a gull soaring close over the forward part of the ship and

ran ahead in hopes of catching it.
 
Shemaine followed quickly behind,

but as swift as a little mouse, the boy started climbing across boards

in his eagerness to get close.
 
The bird hovered temptingly above him,

as if to tease the child.
 
Struggling against her own lethargy, Shemaine

scrambled after him, jumping over timbers and crossing braces as she

made her ascent.
 
She was amazed that such a little boy had so much

energy and such skill at climbing, but just as abruptly, Andrew's

interest was drawn elsewhere, and he began a rapid descent to the main

deck, where a frog leaped across the planks. Pausing to catch her

breath, Shemaine found herself well forward of the deck and, much

intrigued by the view, stepped close to the precipice. Glancing down,

she could see large rocks piled around the bracing stocks, but when she

looked outward, the scenery was lush and beautiful around the cabin.

"Dammit, Shemaine!" a voice bellowed, nearly causing her to stumble from

her lofty perch.
 
"Get down from there!
 
Get down before you fall!"

Shemaine realized'that Gage was already racing toward her, and before

she could adequately obey, he was beside her, catching her arm and

snatching her away from the edge.
 
After gaining the main deck, he

caught her shoulders and gave her a harsh shake as he rebuked her

angrily.

"Don't ever go up there again, do you hear!
 
It's not safe!
 
Just stay

away !
 
" Shemaine nodded fearfully, shaken by his rage.
 
"Y-yes . of

course Mr.
 
Thornton," she stammered, fighting tears of pain. His

fingers clasped her arms so tightly she suffered no uncertainty that she

would later find herself bruised.
 
Wincing, she sought to shrug free of

his steely grasp.
 
"Please, Mr.
 
Thornton, you're hurting me."

As if startled by his own ferocity, Gage dropped his hands away and

staggered back a step.
 
"I'm sorry," he rasped in a hoarse whisper.

"I didn't mean to.
 
.
 
."

Turning crisply on a heel, he left her and strode briskly from the deck

of the ship.
 
Like statues of stone, Shemaine and his men watched him

make a hasty descent of the building slip.
 
Then, as if the banshees of

hell continued to dog his heels, he stalked rapidly toward the cabinet

shop, and a moment later the distant slamming of a door sounded like

thunder in the silence created by his departure.

Shemaine turned to Gillian with a perplexed frown, shaken by the rage

her master had displayed.
 
"What did I do?
 
Why was Mr.
 
Thornton so

angry with me?"

"Don't ye go frettin' yerself that the cap'n was vexed with ye, miss,"

the young man murmured, seeking to allay her fears.
 
" Twas the sight of

ye on the prow what frightened him.
 
Twas where his wife had climbed

afore she fell ta her death."

Shemaine clasped a hand over her mouth, smothering a groan of despair.

How could she have blundered so badly?

"Why don't ye take Andy back ta the cabin now, miss?" Gillian suggested.

"I'll bring whate'er is left."

Shemaine accepted his advice and led Andrew from the ship.
 
She was

grateful to find that the younger men had rinsed off the tin plates and

cups in the river and had left them in the basket beside the door. It

took only a few moments to wash them in soapy water, scald them, and

clean the kitchen.

Bringing in the fresh-scented sheets and pillows from outside, Shemaine

made the beds and finally lay down with Andrew on her own cot in the

loft.
 
She read to him until he fell asleep.
 
With his small head

resting on her shoulder, she lay for a long time staring at the ceiling

as she recalled Gage's angry reaction when he had seen her on the prow

of his ship.
 
Though she could understand his sensitivity about the way

his wife had met her death, in that brief passage of time, during which

he had railed at her and shaken her, she had glimpsed a painful torment

in those eyes that she had never noticed before.
 
He was indubitably a

man haunted by a dreadful memory, perhaps a deed he had done or failed

to do, which had not yet faded into liberating forgetfulness.
 
What was

there about the accident that she had not been told?
 
What terrible

thing, beyond the death of a young wife and mother, had happened that

day that had had the power to rend a man to the depths of his soul and

leave him roiling in anguish?

Mulling over the many possibilities exhausted Shemaine mentally, for she

could find no simple answers to her questions.
 
With a troubled sigh,

she laid an arm over Andrew and curled up beside him, submitting herself

to the drowsiness that had crept stealthily over her.

Ramsey Tate approached the cabinet shop and preceded his entrance with a

light rap.
 
At a muttered call from within, he swung open the door and

stepped inside, closing the portal quietly behind him.
 
His employer

stared broodingly out of a window with a sharp frown creasing his brow,

and a stern glance in his direction did little to reassure Ramsey that

his presence would be tolerated.

"Sly an' the other men are afraid ta come in here, thinkin' they'll

disturb ye," the older man said uneasily.
 
"They sent me in ta ask if'n

ye be wantin' them ta return ta work."

Gage snorted irritably and tossed a darker glower toward his chief

cabinetmaker.
 
"What do you think?"

 
Ramsey flicked his bushy eyebrows briefly upward.
 
"Aye, I told em as

much, that ye'd be wantin' the work done as usual, no matter how gloomy

an' sour yer mood might be.
 
I need not tell ye how ye frightened yer

woman.
 
She was sure she had done somethin' ta offend ye til Gillian

told her ye were just grievin' over yer wife."

Gage deliberately ignored the man's probing chatter about Shemaine.
 
He

knew better than anyone that he had alarmed the girl, but the sight of

her leaning forward over the prow had scared his brain with harrowing

visions of Victoria doing the same.
 
In a fleeting moment reality had

become entangled in a web of tormenting illusion as he suffered through

another nightmarish reenactment of the death scene, those damnable

paralyzing images that had persisted since his wife's death, snatching

him up from the depths of sleep to send him prowling about his room like

a caged animal.
 
Only this time, it had been Shemaine hurtling

helplessly to the rocks below while he had seen himself leaning over the

prow, watching it all happen from above.

"My disposition has nothing to do with my expectations," Gage retorted

at last.
 
"I expect the men to finish the day out and give me a fair

exchange for their wages.
 
I've checked the way they've laid out the

patterns on the wood for the new pieces, and I think there's much to be

desired in the grains they've selected and designated for my inspection.

I would have hurled wood for the doors and matching grains for the

drawers."

"Perhaps ye'd like ta show us what ye want," Ramsey suggested, not

unkindly.
 
He knew that neither he nor any of the other workmen could

envision the finished product as well as the master woodwright.
 
He also

recognized that work could serve as a healing balm for what was

tormenting Gage Thornton, at least until he decided to take himself a

woman.

"Call the men in here," Gage bade sharply.
 
"I'll show them what I

want."

"An' the Morgans?" Ramsey queried uncertainly.
 
"They'll be wantin' ta

know if ye'll be going' back ta work on the ship today."

"Flannery has to replace some planks," Gage stated curtly.
 
"He'll not