Sail With Me (A Discovery Series Book) (4 page)

I cleared my throat and said, “If he’s too foolish not to sure his
footing, then he’s extra weight we didn’t need.”

Captain Finley barked out a laugh and slapped a hand down onto my
shoulder. I swear I sank at least to my ankle into the sand.

“You’ll do, son. That’s my ship yonder, the
Rose
.” He gestured
toward the careened vessel. “What’s your name?”

“Charlie, sir. Charlie Hamden.” Did he notice the waver in my voice?  

“Well, Charlie Hamden, it’s good to meet you.” He extended a filthy hand
to me.

I took his massive hand in mine and shook it. He held onto it for longer
than I expected, and the quaking in my stomach nearly had me running away.

“We’re headed to the Americas, and I
am
looking for more hands.
How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” The truth would be easiest to remember later on.

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead, sir.” The one who had noticed my existence anyway.

“I see. You healthy?”

“Yes, sir. Never get sick.”

No lie there. When I was about seven years old, my entire family except
me had gotten ill with the fever. When they had recovered, my mother kept
hovering about me, waiting for me to fall ill.

“You are a mystery,” my mother said. “Someone’s looking out for you,
Charlotte.” Cripes, I hoped that was true.

“Never get sick, huh?” Captain Finley said, bringing me back to the
present moment.

I shook my head, afraid to talk more than I had to.

“Well, then, I cannot pass on a deckhand who promises he never gets sick,
now can I?” He smiled, but his eyes still studied me, sized me up. “See that
trail of crew filling buckets with water and passing them back to the ship?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You think you’re smart enough to handle something like that?” 

“Yes, Captain,” I shouted, nearly hugging the man, which was what a girl
would do, so I stopped myself. I walked toward the line of crew.

“Wait a minute,” Captain Finley said.

My heart almost stopped beating. He had figured me out. He smelled a
girl. Another chance lost.

“Aren’t you curious about wages, son?”

Wages? I hadn’t been thinking about getting paid to sail. I’d have done
it for free.

“I trust your wages are fair.”

Captain Finley laughed again. “Well, then, the Americas are waiting for
us, boy. We set sail at the end of the week if you can last that long. We’ve
set up camp on the other side of the
Rose
there while the ship’s on her
side. A few more tasks to be done, and we are off to cross the mighty
Atlantic.”

He opened his hands to the ocean lapping at the sandy shore. A genuine
smile stretched across his face as he breathed in a lungful of sea air. He
shook his head as if looking at the sea had overwhelmed him.

I knew the feeling.  

“Why are you still standing here? Run along now. See that tall kid there
standing next to the line of crew? That’s my nephew, Daniel Connor. Go see him,
and he’ll show you what to do.” He pushed me toward the crew, and it took all
my resolve to walk calmly toward the line of men.

Charlie Hamden had passed the test.     

Daniel Connor was indeed a tall boy with light brown hair and a pleasant
profile. Dressed in black breeches and a beige tunic, he kept the line of crew
working smoothly as they passed buckets between them from the shore to the
boat.

As I approached, Daniel raised an eyebrow above a bright blue eye, and
the corner of his mouth instantly turned down.

“You joining us?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m Charlie Hamden.” I extended my right hand to him.

“Great.” He huffed out a long breath. “Another new fish.” He shook his
head and rolled his eyes up to the morning sky.

I stood behind him to his left while he appeared to search among the
wispy clouds for something I couldn’t see.

Finally he said, “Daniel Connor, apparently the nursemaid to all the
incompetent new deckhands.” He extended his left hand to me instead of his
right.

I looked up to his face from under the brim of Benjamin’s cap as he
turned all the way around to face me. I quickly realized why he did not offer
his right hand.

He didn’t have one.

As I stood dumbly in front of him, Daniel stepped forward and slapped my
still outstretched right hand with his left to get it out of his way. He paced
by me and pushed out another loud breath.

“I wish my uncle would refer to me as the ‘kid with one arm’ instead of
the ‘tall kid.’ That’s what he called me, isn’t it?” 

“I beg your pardon. I did not expect… I thought…” I trailed off as I
forced my gaze back to his face. A rather nice face if you ignored the scowl.

“If you think I care about what you thought, fish,” Daniel said, “you’d
be mistaken. Hugely. And don’t think I can’t beat the piss out of you because I
have one arm. Ask any of them. They’ll tell you how it is.”

The line of crew still working mumbled their agreement, sweat dotting
their sunburned faces. Daniel grunted something back to them I couldn’t hear
then dragged me into the line. Apparently Edward Scarsdale had not been lying
about the grouch nephew part.

“Stand right there and when Michael hands you the bucket of water, pass
it along. You got that, fish?”

“I got it.” 

Daniel paused for a moment and lifted the brim of my cap. I held my
breath as he studied my face and angled his own head. Prey being sniffed out by
a predator. His scrutiny of my face broke when I grabbed the bucket Michael
handed me.

“Come find me at supper,” Daniel finally said. “If you last that long.”

He didn’t wait for me to reply. My throat was too dry for words anyway.
As he walked over to the
Rose
, he glanced back over his shoulder at me
once then continued on his way. Not exactly a grand welcome to the crew, but I
wasn’t interested in making friends.

Getting to the Americas was my only goal, and now I was a step closer to
achieving it.  

****

I hefted water buckets for the rest of the afternoon, stealing glances at
the ocean from time to time. To be working this close to her, to know I was
only days away from sailing on her, made my skin feel as if it could barely
contain my insides.

The sun finally slipped below the horizon, and the ships tied to the
docks were black ghosts on the water. The men working on the
Rose
—about sixty
of them in the entire crew—abandoned their tools. We piled the buckets up in a
heap near the ship, and I followed the men, my sack still slung around me, into
the woods to the camp that had been set up.

A large fire blazed at the center of the camp, and Daniel poked at it with
a long stick. Some game roasted on a spit over the fire, and I realized how
hungry working had made me. My arm muscles burned from today’s bucket toting,
but I welcomed the ache. I was finally
doing
something.

Daniel looked up from tending the fire at the sound of us approaching,
and his gaze settled on mine as if he’d been looking for me. He rested the
poker against his chest and pointed to me then to the ground at his feet. I
felt like a pup being called by its master, but I obliged him anyway. Thankful
for the dimming light, I wove through the crowd of crewmembers to stand next to
Daniel.

“I watched you out there, fish. Didn’t drop a bucket, slow down the line,
or complain.”

He handed me the poker and motioned to the fire with his chin. I adjusted
some of the logs, and the flames blazed a little higher.

“Can stoke a fire too,” he said.

 Of course I could. I had built thousands of fires for Lady Elizabeth.

“You sure you’re what you say you are?”

I swallowed loudly and avoided Daniel’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Most new fish can’t lace up their own boots, never mind hop on the job
and do it right.”  

I alternated my gaze between the fire and Daniel. He chopped some
vegetables and tossed them into a huge black pot. After a few moments, he
pulled the game from the spit and hoisted the pot up, placing it on the fire
itself.

“I’ve been around ships my whole life,” I said.

“Don’t make you an expert.”

“No, but I’m not an idiot,” I said, a new edge to my voice. I didn’t want
to make an enemy of Daniel, but he wasn’t friendly. “I know how a crew works.”

“Bet you don’t know more than me,” he said, a challenge in his tone.

“I know enough.” I poked at the fire and the flames licked higher still.
I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Fire’s easy, fish,” he said. “So is carrying buckets. We’ll see what you
can do tomorrow.” A shame those sky blue eyes came with such a sour attitude.

As I fiddled with the fire, I stole glances at Daniel. The right sleeve
of his tunic was cut short and knotted below his shoulder while the left one
was rolled up to his bicep. That arm was well muscled, and my gaze traveled to
the open portion of his shirt where evidence of an equally fit, tanned chest
peeked out.    

I shook my head clear of the reaction watching Daniel had brought on. I
couldn’t afford to slip up and lose my pass to the Americas because I liked the
looks of some young sailor with an unappealing disposition. I’d never noticed
the boys in Southhampton besides Benjamin. Now wasn’t the time to start being
interested.

“Stir that up, will you?” He threw an iron ladle at me.

I caught it and he narrowed his eyes at me. I plunged the ladle into the
pot and soon the fresh aroma of boiling vegetables wafted up into the air. As I
stirred, Daniel pulled meat from the game and plopped pieces into wooden bowls
he had set up next to the fire. Every now and then, he glanced up at me as if
he didn’t trust me.

Soon, the men wandered over, taking bowls and wanting a ladle full of the
vegetable stew. I filled their bowls, and they spread out in little pockets
around the camp to eat their supper.

“Got yourself a partner tonight, eh, Daniel?” one of the crewmen said.

Daniel’s jaw tensed as he glared at me. We finished filling bowls until
only three were left. He pushed me aside and sloppily filled two of the
remaining bowls.

“I don’t need your help, fish, you understand?” He was close enough that
I could feel his breath on my face. I had to take a step back to look up at
him.

“You called me over to the fire, Daniel. I didn’t trot over, dying to
help you,” I shot back as I filled my own bowl. “I don’t care where I work as
long as I’m working. I don’t like to sit still, and I don’t like your mood
either.”

He let out a snort. “This is my good mood, fish. You’re going to hate my
bad one.”   

Daniel walked off with two of the bowls resting on his left forearm toward
the largest of the tents set up around the perimeter of the camp. He
disappeared behind the folds, and I turned around to eat my supper.

Alone.

****

I carried my bowl and my sack down to the shore. The groups were made and
I wasn’t part of any of them. A few of the crewmembers I had hauled buckets
with nodded to me, but it wasn’t an invitation. On the bright side, none of
them seemed suspicious about me being anything other than what I claimed.

Except for Daniel, that is.

I climbed onto a huge rock that jutted out into the sea. Settling on the
edge of it so my legs dangled over the water, I ate. The food, simple as it
was, tasted like a feast after a day of working out in the sun. I finished it
and wiped my mouth with my sleeve, wincing at the stab of pain that flooded
through my lip and jaw.

“Think you’re tough with that bruise?” Daniel said, suddenly behind me.

“If I were really tough I would have emerged
without
a bruise.”

He actually laughed. A nice sound that didn’t match how he’d spoken to me
earlier in the day.    

“How old are you, fish?” Daniel asked.

“Sixteen. And my name’s Charlie.”

“Fine,
Charlie
.” He rolled his eyes when he said it.

“How old are you?” I said.

“Eighteen.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“Really.” He laughed again, and the pleasing sound was in sharp contrast
to the furrow of his brows, the purse of his lips.

 “How long have you been with your uncle on the
Rose
?”

“Since my parents died and… this.” He gestured to his empty right sleeve
as he leaned against a nearby rock.

“What happened?” The question stumbled out before I could stop it.
Foolish girl.

“None of your business what happened.” He folded his left arm across his
torso and kicked at some of the sand around his bare feet.

“Sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have asked that. I was just curious.”

“Curious about the monstrosity?”

“No, I—”

“Save it, fish. I’ll show you what to do because my uncle asked me to and
he’s the captain. We aren’t going to be friends, though, you and me. I know my
uncle took you on because he figured you were about my age. Thinks I need a pal
or something.” In the shadowy light of the moon, his jaw tensed again. “I don’t
need anyone.”

He pushed off the rock and walked away before I could respond. I should
have been angry about the way he’d talked to me, but for some reason, I wasn’t.
Instead, I found myself wanting to make him laugh again. He seemed like a
better person when he laughed.

What was I thinking? I wasn’t dressed like a boy to be chums with anyone,
let alone someone who didn’t want a chum. I was on a mission to the Americas.
What did I care about Daniel’s bitter attitude? That was his problem, not mine,
and why was I still thinking about him?

At the docks, most of the locals had gone home for the night so a quiet
hush stilled the air. Benjamin and his father would have closed up Watkins’s
Post by now and would be heading home to a dinner his mother would have waiting
for them. I hoped Benjamin would be all right without me. Of course he’d be all
right. He had his family, his work, and maybe Rachel Carnigan. He’d be fine.

And Lady Elizabeth. Benjamin would have told her today that I wasn’t
coming back to work for her. What had she said? Was she disappointed in me?

A wide yawn overtook me and I slid off the rock. Day one was over.
Tomorrow would bring more work, and I was eager for it. It was far better than
arranging pastries on platters for Lady Elizabeth.

Most of the men had retired to their tents, the central cook fire dimming
to a faint orange glow. I dropped my bowl with the others piled high next to
the fire. I had a feeling I’d be the one to wash them come morning. Seemed like
the perfect chore for the new “fish” to do.

I turned in a tight circle, looking at the tents. They weren’t like the accommodations
I had enjoyed at Lady Elizabeth’s. No bedclothes with tiny pink flowers
stitched with silk threads. No whitewashed walls with expensive artwork. No
colorful rugs all the way from Asia to sink my feet into.

In fact, no tent.

Was I supposed to walk into one of them and claim a spot? That didn’t
seem right, so I sifted some sand between my toes. Soft, cushiony. Better than
nothing.

I dropped down to my knees and slid my sack off my shoulder.
Repositioning it several times, I curled up in the sand, content to sleep
wherever as long as I could wake up by the sea.

“Stupid fish.”

I opened one eye to see Daniel standing over me. He was as good as Benjamin
was at sneaking around.

“What’s wrong?” I closed my eye again in hopes he would be on his way.

“Are you going to sleep in the sand like a crab?”

“It seems to work for the crab.” I shifted deeper into the sand, fully
prepared to ignore Daniel and his permanent bad attitude.

His laughter, however, had me opening my eyes again. The sound flowed
over me like a gentle, rolling wave.

“I want to hate you, fish. My uncle’s hired four other sailors about our
age in the last two months. Worthless. All of them. Getting rid of them had
been easy.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smirk.

Edward Scarsdale. Had Daniel gotten him tossed off the
Rose’s
crew?

“You, on the other hand…” he continued. “You said you weren’t an idiot
and I’m starting to believe you.”

I propped up on one elbow to look at him. Had that been a compliment? The
other corner of Daniel’s mouth was now upturned so he sported a full smile. In
the dimming embers of the fire, his teeth glowed white, brightening his whole
face.

“Come on, fi—” Daniel hesitated for a moment before stepping over me. “Come
on, Charlie. There are two other men in my tent, but you’ll fit too.”

He walked to a tent next to the largest one. I scrambled to my feet,
straightening the pillow at my stomach and clutching my sack.

Had I had made a friend?

Did I want one?