Sea Change (16 page)

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Authors: Darlene Marshall

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Sea Change
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"Huh. You made the lump go away. Oh, stop glaring at me. I barely touched you, you little girl! Want me to take a look at it?"

"Leave me alone, you've done enough damage," Charley said, carefully working her jaw back and forth. Little girl indeed! "You sail the ship, and I will do the doctoring, Captain."

"There's a need for doctoring and a need to know the manly arts. You need to know how to fight, Doctor. A little tap like that shouldn't have laid you out, and you must learn how to block and dodge a blow. Have you never engaged in fisticuffs?"

"And risk these hands?" She picked up the fallen copy of Woodall and set it on her desk. "No, I haven't fought since I was a young, Captain. These hands heal your crew, and I would not be able to do that so well if they are bruised and swollen."

"Nonetheless, you should know how to defend yourself, Charley. I insist you take lessons with the men on fighting with a cutlass."

"No."

He stared at her and his eyes narrowed. "I seldom have people say no to me, Doctor, aboard my own ship. I must admit, it is a novel experience. One that I trust will not happen again."

Charley stood firm, and crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the throbbing in her jaw. "Sometimes no is necessary, Captain. I am a healer. I will not inflict injuries on others. I will not risk myself in swordplay. If you do not like it, put me off your ship."

He frowned at her, then relaxed.

"I will let this go for now, Doctor, but I encourage you to rethink your position. Knowing how to defend yourself against attackers is only good common sense."

"Maybe," Charley said, and turned to put her book away.

* * * *

David would never admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed sparring with the doctor, even if it was only verbally sparring. He'd be damned if he would let Dr. Alcott leave just so he could go to Jamaica to cure old planters with the pox. The boy had a way to him, fresh faced and quick, with medical skills David was coming to appreciate more and more. And while the doctor might never attain the height or muscle or fighting skills of other men, there was no reason Charley couldn't do well for himself with the ladies. Look at him there, reaching up to get something out of the cabinet. His chestnut hair shone in the light coming through the porthole, his back was straight and his legs were shape--

"Hellfire!" he swore aloud, jumping off the table.

Charley looked over his slender shoulder, those large smoky eyes wide with concern, and as he looked at David a faint wash of color filled his downy cheeks.

"Captain?"

"Nothing! It's nothing, Char--Dr. Alcott! I need to go!"

David knew he was babbling, but there was nothing for it. He needed to get out of there, fast, and away from Dr. Alcott. Far away from Dr. Alcott. Christ, there was something seriously wrong with him when he started thinking that way about the doctor!

He ran from sick bay like the British Navy was on his arse, and as he passed his brother he grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him along.

"Wha--?"

"Don't speak," David said through his teeth.

David pulled Henry into the cabin, slammed the door behind him and poured them each a glass of rum as Henry stood rubbing his arm. His face was still streaked with grime from the fight and the work aboard the Spanish merchantman.

"Here," David said, thrusting a drink into Henry's hand. "I need to talk to someone--you," he repeated, rubbing his hand over his eyes before taking a drink.

"Henry--have you noticed anything...funny about the doctor?"

Henry froze, his drink halfway to his mouth, and some of the color left his face. David knew then he'd been right. If a dullard like his brother could see it...

"Funny? Funny how?" Henry croaked, taking a swallow of his rum.

"I'm just not sure about him, Henry. For example, he smells...I don't know, fresh. Like he is wearing cologne."

Henry relaxed a fraction. "Dr. Alcott smells like blood and medicine to me."

"And then there's this other thing..." David fumbled, looking for the right words. "Henry, I think the doctor is...I think the doctor is developing feelings for me."

"What?"

"What I just said. Feelings. An attachment. An inappropriate attachment. He blushes when I'm near him. Sometimes, I see him looking at me."

"Looking at you, how?"

"You know--looking at me. Just a few moments ago when he was examining my wrist... I know that lads are sometimes confused--what the hell are you laughing at? This is not amusing!"

"Oh, it is, more than you realize. I knew that pretty face of yours would get you into trouble some day!"

"Dammit, Henry, stop laughing!" David took a drink of his own rum. "Charley needs to be set on the right path."

Henry stopped laughing and looked at his brother.

"You're right, it is not funny. Not for Charley." He turned his glass toward the light, studying it as if it contained answers. David waited for him to speak. Even a blind pig could find an acorn, and sometimes Henry offered good counsel.

"You have to be careful how you deal with this situation, Captain. You like the doctor, don't you?"

"Yes," David said slowly. "Yes, Charley is my friend, as much as I can have a friend aboard ship. I can talk to him about politics without him dozing as you do, and about business, and books we've read in common. I did not think it would be like that when he first came aboard, but the lad is bright, and entertaining and smart--smarter than you by far, but then that's not much of a stretch."

"Then do not be too quick to discard a friend," Henry said softly. "I also like the doctor and I would not want to see him hurt."

"I would never hurt Charley!"

"You might not mean to, but..." Henry hesitated, searching for the right words. "A friendship between you and...and someone like Dr. Alcott, it is a rare thing. There's more to Charley than you suspect, and I think you two could become close. In a good way! You are very different, but you also have a great deal in common, particularly the way you care for this ship's crew. The doctor is unique."

He shook his head and smiled, a small, private smile.

"I have to admit that I have never met anyone quite like Charley Alcott. Not at all what I expected when you told me you'd taken a surgeon off a British brig. I've become quite fond of young Dr. Alcott, and not just because he saved my life."

"He did the job he was brought here for, and did it well, didn't he? And so much more," David said, pacing back and forth. Now that the problem was out in the open, it was a relief to have Henry here to share it with him. "It doesn't matter to me anymore that Charley loves the king and I'm a good American republican. It's like he was made to be the doctor aboard this vessel."

"Exactly. We have all been fortunate to have Dr. Alcott here, whether it's the right thing to do or not, keeping Charley aboard the
Fancy.
" Henry sighed. "Look, brother, just...be open-minded. Don't throw away your friendship with the doctor, and the good services provided, just because Charley may be different than you expect."

David stopped pacing and looked out the stern window. There were no answers there, in the clear blue skies, so he turned back to his brother and said what needed to be said aloud.

"I can only allow such 'differences' up to a point, Henry. Even Martinez asked if the doctor was my bumboy! If an idiot like him starts assuming that, then I have to be extra careful to discourage Charley from any tendencies that...aren't right."

"You risk losing Charley if you do that," Henry said softly.

"It is a risk I have to take. I am the captain of this vessel, and its master, and the welfare of all the men is my responsibility."

Henry looked at him. He started to speak, then thought better of it.

"Say what is on your mind, brother." David said. He valued Henry's counsel precisely because he was the only man aboard ship who he could have this conversation with, and Henry knew that.

Henry took a deep breath. "No one has said anything. Are you certain, David, that you aren't reacting this way because you worry about your own feelings for the doctor?"

"Do not be ridiculous," David said harshly, chopping his hand through the air like a blow. "I am not like that!"

"I know you are not, it's not that, it's just..." Henry fumbled, but finally said, "Never mind. You will do as you think best."

He rose to leave. David realized Henry's arm was out of its sling. The doctor was correct, Henry was ready to go on with his life.

But it didn't mean David was ready for the doctor to leave the
Fancy.
He would straighten Charley out, and get beyond this, and it would all work out for the best.

 

Chapter 10

 

Charley didn't think much of the captain's absence from her life over the days following the attack on the Spanish vessel. The men taking the
Trinidad
to the United States kept her busy making sure they had a rudimentary medical chest in case of emergency. She also reviewed some basics of care with Miller, who was part of the prize crew.

"...and remember, Miller, go easy on the purges. I know it's entertainment for everyone else, but it can weaken the recipient and Mr. Fletcher will need all hands available to sail this ship."

"Aye, Doctor," Miller said. She would rather instruct Mr. Fletcher, who was captaining the
Trinidad
, but one needed two hands to bandage and splint.

After he left, Charley cleaned up and disposed of Pirate's latest gifts--why couldn't that cat find some nice pastries to bring her?-- and went above to watch the preparations aboard the
Trinidad.

Captain Fletcher was stripping the
Fancy
of two of its four-pounders to improve the firepower on the merchantman and offer some protection for the Americans. They would have to run the British blockade to get to New York, but the oranges wouldn't keep forever, and with winter coming the haul could bring top dollar if they made it through.

"
When
they make it through, Doctor," the captain amended when she raised this point. "The ocean is vast and the Royal Navy does not own it. We have slipped by them before, and I have every confidence Henry will elude them again."

The captain had stripped down himself in the tropical heat, as had most of the crew manhandling the guns, but Charley only had eyes for their commander. It was an amazing thing, she thought, and not for the first time, that even one who knew the workings of the human body could react in the same way as the most primitive of women to the sight of sweat-sheened muscles flowing beneath a bronzed chest.

She sighed, for looking was as close as she'd ever get. Pirate was twining himself around her ankles and she stooped to pick the cat up and cradle him in her arms, grateful for the feel of warmth and cuddling, even if it came with fur and claws.

That night the
Fancy
hosted a farewell to the prize crew, with toasts to President Madison and the United States of America. While Charley did not join in those salutes, she proposed a toast to the gallant crew of the
Trinidad
, and wished them a safe voyage.

Mr. Fletcher paid the doctor a final visit that evening.

"You no longer need my services, Mr. Fletcher," Charley said. She'd become close to Henry, and not just in a patient-doctor fashion. She often wondered what it would have been like to have brothers and sisters. Having a brother like Henry Fletcher would have added joy to her life--and likely aggravation as well, based on what she saw between the two brothers aboard the
Fancy.

"There will always be some pain, Henry. Be careful that you do not come to rely too heavily on laudanum for relief. You will have to be carefully fitted for your artificial limb, and you will want to keep making adjustments until the fit is right. Do not settle for anything that is not as comfortable as it can be."

She smiled at him with a touch of sadness. In some ways he was her only true friend, and tomorrow he would be gone from her life.

"I have done all I can, Henry, and the rest is up to you. I now officially pronounce you fit and ready to captain your own vessel."

Henry put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

"I wish I wasn't leaving you alone here. Be careful, Doctor. My brother knows something is not as it should be."

"What do you mean?"

"Just...be careful."

Charley sighed. "I always am careful, Henry. I am careful in how I walk. I am careful in how I stand, how I hold my cup, how I angle my body during a conversation, how I laugh, how I blow my nose, how I adjust my trousers."

He looked at her sympathetically. "Is it worth it?"

Henry stood in her sick bay, his back straight. He was minus a hand, but otherwise hale and sun-browned, his eyes clear and shining with the excitement of his coming adventure. His body nearly vibrated with his desire to be at the helm of his own vessel. Something in her own chest loosened and glowed with the evidence of her capable hands, her surgical skills reflected in Henry Fletcher's zest for life. She knew without her help there was little chance he would have survived the necessary amputation. She could take comfort in that when he was gone and there would be no one here who knew Charlotte Alcott.

"Yes, Mr. Fletcher. Yes, it is most assuredly worth it. Every man whose health has improved, every cut sewn, every bone set. I cannot do everything, but I draw comfort in knowing I do what I can, and that it can make a difference."

Henry smiled at her.

"Then God bless you, Charley, and I hope you continue to be able to live your life as you wish to."

He made a motion to open his arms for a farewell hug, but a small sound made them both look up then. David Fletcher was standing in the entrance to sick bay, watching them from the shadows, no expression on his face.

Charley cleared her throat and took a step back, a freezing shiver racing down her spine. Had the captain come a few minutes earlier her thoughtless conversation would have given her away. It was a good reminder she could not relax her guard, not for a second.

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