Sail With Me (A Discovery Series Book) (11 page)

“My mother,” he continued, “she had a way of making the crust taste like
pure butter. It melted in your mouth then you were left with cinnamon-covered
apples that were like little slices of heaven.” He shrugged his left shoulder.
“Sounds stupid, but it’s true.”

I stacked the last of the bowls. “It doesn’t sound stupid. My mother made
wonderful apple pie as well. I think if you’re a mother you have to be able to
make apple pie.”

Daniel shot me another vulnerable look.

“We had an apple tree on our property in Southampton,” I said, revealing
one small tidbit of my real life. “My mother would make pies with those and
somehow, knowing we grew the apples ourselves, made the pie taste even better.”

Drawing in a deep breath, he said, “Sometimes I miss apple pie so much.”
Every word he whispered held his pain and echoed my own.

I took a step closer. Close enough now that I could place my hand on his
shoulder.

“I’m sure your mother misses you too.” I hoped the same was true of my
own.

“You ever get the feeling your mother is watching over you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Once in a while, when the wind blows a certain way, I
swear I can hear her calling my name.”

Charlotte… my dear, Charlotte…

“I feel close to mine when I look at the moon. We used to lie in our
backyard on warm summer nights and gaze up at the moon together.” He offered me
a nostalgic smile.

I pulled him to his feet and guided him in the dim light to the galley
door. We ascended the ladder and arrived on the top deck. I led us over to the
starboard rail and pointed up.     

 Daniel craned his head back. “Oh, it’s beautiful tonight.” His voice was
a husky whisper as he witnessed the perfectly full harvest moon. A reddish
orange haze covered the moon as it hung in the cloudless night sky.

“I noticed it after we ate.” I leaned against the starboard rail next to
Daniel, close enough that my arm touched his.

He didn’t pull away.

“This trip is more fun with you here, Charlie.” His warm breath sent a
shudder of pleasure down the length of my body. I shifted away, not able to
take a moment longer of being this close to him.

Would this trip be more fun if he knew what I really was? 

I dreamed of Daniel almost nightly. Each dream seemed more real than the
first. I woke up in a sweat each time, fully expecting to have revealed my secret
to him. Part of me wanted it to happen.

The
Rose
had altered her westward course a bit to the south, and
we were lucky to have caught an afternoon where the wind was out of the north.
Sailing downwind for a change allowed us to make great gains in our progress.
From the crow’s nest, it felt as though the ship flew through the water,
cutting down waves with ease. I inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of the
salted air. Regardless of my problems containing my runaway feelings lately, my
duties aboard the
Rose
offered me great pleasure. They gave me a place
to expend my buried energies and emotions.

“Charlie,” the captain called from the base of the main mast.

“Aye, sir.” I peered over the rim of the lookout post.

“Have you seen Daniel this morning?”

Only in my subconscious and only every minute.

“No, Captain,” was what I actually said. “I’ve been up here all morning, sir.”

“Strange. It’s unusual for him to not check in with me. He’s not in the
galley or in any of his regular spots.”

That was strange. Had I been spending so much time with Daniel in my
dreams that I didn’t realize when he wasn’t actually around?

“Shall I look for him, sir?” A sudden urgency to do just that overpowered
me.

“Please,” Captain Finley said.

I scurried down the mast.

“I’m going to continue to look while Walter’s got the helm. If you find
him, let me know.” Captain Finley’s brow creased in concern.

I scoured the top deck first and, finding nothing, moved below decks. I
checked our sleeping quarters next. Everything was in order there as well.
Nothing amiss. The galley too, just as the captain had reported, was empty.

Descending to decks below our quarters and the galley, I arrived in the
hold where I found Russ, the carpenter. Since our encounter with the whale, he
had stationed himself in the hold, listening for any signs of weakness in the
wooden boards of the
Rose’s
hull. He paused in his work at the sound of
my footfalls.

“Hello, Charlie.” He offered me a cordial smile, barely visible in the
flickering lantern light.

“Hello, Russ.” My gaze wandered around the rest of the hold. “Is Daniel
down here?”

“Aye,” Russ answered. “He’s over—” He wheeled around and pointed toward
the stern, but abruptly stopped talking. He turned his head from left to right
and brought one of his hands to his hip. He scratched at his dark beard with
his other hand. “He was down here, but I don’t see him now.”

I walked to the stern and turned to search the bow as well when a low
moan stopped me. I returned to the stern and squinted into the shadows.

“A lantern here,” I called.

Russ came over with some light, and we both gasped at what was revealed
in the fire’s glow.

Rushing forward with Russ lighting the dark corners, I kneeled beside
Daniel. He was motionless on the hold’s floor, his color paled and a sheen of
perspiration on his face.

“Let’s get him out of this tight spot.” Russ set the lantern down on a
crate.

I scooped up Daniel’s legs while Russ hooked his arms around Daniel’s
torso. We maneuvered him out and set him down on a roomier piece of floor where
we could kneel on either side of him. I pulled off my sweater and balled it
under his head and Russ pulled off his coat, throwing it over Daniel’s chest.

“He’s shaking.” I took hold of Daniel’s hand. He squeezed it weakly and
opened his eyes for a moment.

“Daniel?” Russ leaned over Daniel’s head. “Can you hear me, son?”

He nodded as he closed his eyes again.

I put my other hand on his forehead. “Cripes, he’s burning up.”

“I’ll go fetch the cap’n and the doc.” Russ rose to his feet and moved
through the hold toward the ladder.

“Charlie,” Daniel rasped, peeking at me through barely opened eyes.

“We’re getting some help.”

Another slow nod and his eyes closed. Dark shadows ringed his eyes. He
was always so healthy, so strong. The way he looked right now was unsettling.

“Too hot,” he said.

I pulled off Russ’s coat as Daniel took in a strained breath.
“Th-thanks.”

“What happened?” I still held his left hand in mine.

“I woke up… feeling… funny.” He opened his eyes again to look at me. “I
managed to make it through preparing breakfast for the crew.” He stopped and
cleared his throat. “You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

A sudden warmth flooded through me. He had noticed I was missing.

“I went straight to my post.”

A shiver coursed the length of Daniel’s body, and he tightened his grip
on my hand. “I’m cold,” he whispered through quivering lips.

I laid Russ’s coat back over his chest though Daniel’s tunic was soaked
through, and fresh beads of sweat trickled down the side of his head. His
cheeks volleyed between extreme pale and flushed pink. I brushed aside the hair
stuck to his forehead, and he sucked in a breath. I pulled my hand away.

Daniel shook his head. “S-sorry. My skin aches.” Another quake rippled
through him. “I figured I’d come down here to help Russ. To keep my mind busy
and talk my body out of being sick. I was feeling better then all of a sudden I
got so weak. My legs couldn’t support me.” He coughed before finishing. “I
don’t remember what happened next. Guess I passed out. Then you were here.”

He looked at me with cloudy blue eyes. It was like looking at the sky
through murky water.

Loud boot steps on the ladder caused us both to look in that direction.
Captain Finley stormed through the hold like an animal in a too tight cage. The
doctor, diminutive in comparison to the captain, followed behind carrying his
medical bag.

“Over here, Captain,” I called when he turned toward the bow instead of
aft.

He whirled around and rushed over to us. “Daniel,” he started. “What’s
the matter?”

I released Daniel’s hand and shuffled down so Captain Finley could kneel
beside his nephew. Daniel lifted his head, and the doctor stepped in between
everyone.

“Just a minute there, son.” He eased Daniel’s head back onto my sweater.
He set down his bag and rummaged a hand around inside of it. The doctor
extracted an odd looking instrument, like a thin pipe with two small funnels at
either end. He peeled away Russ’s coat and Daniel’s tunic to expose bare skin.

The doctor placed one end of the instrument to Daniel’s chest and the
other end to his own ear. “Take in a deep breath if you can, boy.”

Daniel did as the doctor asked and started hacking as though he were
choking on something. His entire body shook with the violent cough, and when he
regained his composure, he appeared exhausted.         

“Hmmm,” the doctor muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Captain Finley demanded.

“Ahh…” The doctor crinkled up his nose. “It means, Captain, that your
nephew here has one powerful infection in his lungs.”

“How did he get that?”

“Difficult to say without all my tools. He could have been carrying it
around with him since we shoved off. Now that we’re all getting run down a bit
with the journey and eating less, Daniel’s body has less resources available to
fight the infection.” The doctor placed his instrument back into his bag and
stood.

“What can we do for him?” I inched my way back closer to Daniel.

“We can make him comfortable, feed him, give him plenty of water to
start. I’ll search through my supplies and see what I can mix up to soothe his
lungs. And rest. He needs rest.”

“Let’s take him up to my quarters.” Captain Finley bent down and scooped
up Daniel as if he were a newborn, not a tall, eighteen-year old, young man.
“Come, Charlie,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for the ladder.
“Daniel’s going to need some company.”

I hopped up, grabbing my sweater from the floor, and ran after the
captain. My eyes met Daniel’s for a second before he closed them again. His
head lolled back over his uncle’s arm.

Seeing Daniel in this condition brought forth a pain I had fought to keep
buried. He was really sick. I had only seen one other person this ill before.

My mother.

****

In the captain’s quarters, Daniel was lying on his right side with a
blanket covering him to his waist. His uncle had offered him fresh garments,
but he had only accepted breeches, complaining, at that particular moment, he
was too hot for a tunic.

“What’ve you got there?” His voice was scratchy from the wretched
coughing.

“Soup. A simple one, but it’ll do.” I walked over to the bed.

“You probably shouldn’t get too close,” he said. “Maybe you should leave
the food and get out of here.” He gazed at me through watery eyes, and my body
trembled with fear for his health.

“I never get sick.”

“That’s what Uncle Samuel said about you, but this would be a pretty bad
time to prove that wrong.”

I caught a trace of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Nothing
could make me leave those quarters. Nothing.

“I never get sick,” I repeated as I placed a small tray on a wooden
bedside table bolted to the floor so it wouldn’t move when the ship was in
motion. “Are you hungry?”

“I think so.” He rolled to his back and tried to sit up, but he was too
weak. Giving up after a few attempts, he reached his left arm out to me. “Help
me up?”

I edged closer, my own breath getting caught up in my chest. Taking his
arm, I found his skin was still fevered. I pulled him up while he scooted back
to rest on the wall behind his uncle’s bunk. I tucked another blanket behind
him, breathing in his sawdusty scent while I was close.   

“Thanks.” He fidgeted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

I picked up the soup from the tray and handed it to Daniel. He took it,
holding the steaming bowl under his chin. Breathing in the hot wisps curling up
from the soup, he stifled another bout of coughing and his ribs strained to
keep it in. 

“Don’t hold it in on my account.” I sat on the end of the bed, trying
desperately to keep my distance, not for fear of getting ill myself, however.

He set the bowl down in his lap and took the spoon in his left hand. He scooped
up some of the soup and brought it to his lips. His stomach muscles were still
tensed as he fought to maintain control over the coughing. He managed to make
it to his mouth without a spill, his face relaxing a bit as he swallowed.

“If anything will cure me, it’s this.” He took another spoonful. “Feels
so good on my raw throat.”

How was it possible that even sick, Daniel was handsome? His hair was
hooked behind his left ear while the right side hung to his jaw line. Though
his coloring was off with the illness, a radiance still shined from some place
deep inside him.

Leave! My mind shouted this one word at me, but my body refused to
entertain the notion.

Daniel finished the soup, and my hand grazed his as I took the bowl from
him. That brief touch had my blood warming in my veins. The wooden bowl
clattered to the tray, splashing remains of broth, as my hands wavered.

“Oh, how clumsy.” How utterly foolish.

“You seem nervous.” Daniel placed his hand on my forearm.

“Don’t touch me!” I wrenched my arm away.

His eyes opened wider as he withdrew his hand. “I’m s-sorry,” he said
before another round of coughing descended upon him.

Instantly, I felt terrible. “I didn’t mean to yell.” I looked away. “I
just…”

“It’s all right. I told you not to get too close, and here I am putting
my hand all over you.”

“It’s not that.” I couldn’t bear to let him think I didn’t want him to
touch me. Just the opposite was true. I wanted nothing more than to feel his
hand on my own skin. “I’m not afraid of catching whatever you have, Daniel.”

“Then what is it? You’re acting strangely.”

He leaned his head on the wall he was propped up against as he waited for
my reply. His eyes scanned my face. My own eyes went to his throat, which was
so completely exposed with his head tilted back like that. An invitation. One I
couldn’t accept, but wanted to so badly.

“I… I’m not acting strangely.” A pathetic attempt to deny my obvious
ridiculousness. I had to force my eyes away from his throat.

“Yes, you are. Come on, Charlie, we’re like brothers, aren’t we? You can
tell me anything.”

He offered me a weak smile, and I could see he was fatigued.

“Brothers,” I started, my voice straining on the word. “Yes, we’re
definitely like brothers. I’m worried about you is all.” That wasn’t a complete
lie at least.

“Well, you should be worried about me.” Daniel pulled his head up and
looked me squarely in the eye. “You’d be a rotten brother if you weren’t
concerned. I’m really sick here, you know.” He gestured to himself with his
hand, and though he let out another ragged cough, he ended with a smile.

“You should probably get some rest.” It took all my resolve to stand and
pick up the tray.

“Yes,” he said around a yawn. “Doctor Smithson was in here before you and
made me drink some concoction. It tasted awful.”

“Not like my soup, huh?”

“Not at all like your soup.” A shiver swam over Daniel. “Can you help me
into my tunic? I’m cold now. Wish my body would make up its mind.”

I set the tray down again and approached the bedside, grabbing Daniel’s
tunic off the end of the bed. Shaking it out, I stalled a bit, knowing this was
going to involve more contact than I could handle at the moment.

Taking in a deep breath, I kneeled on the bed next to Daniel. He
struggled to push himself off the wall he leaned against and ended up resting
his hand on my shoulder to finish the move. My face grew hot, my heartbeat
accelerated. I lifted his tunic and placed the neck opening over his head.
Letting it drop to his shoulders, I held the left sleeve out so he could slip
his arm in.