by Reina Torres
“What you’ve done for the Siren is a gift that I want to repay however I can.”
“But you are paying me, sir, and truthfully, besides being grateful for your trust, I am also enjoying the work.”
His heart felt too big for the size of the cage it had been placed in, pounding its galloping rhythms against his ribs.
“You have a good crew here. Folks that take care of each other and it feels like a family.”
Now it was the captain’s chance to enjoy the feeling of pride. “Absolutely.”
“And I realize that I’ve missed having a family for so long. I will always do my best to protect the Siren and all of the people who work here.”
Andrew turned and leaned on the railing alongside the captain. Silence fell between them and they stood beside each other watching the river as it seemed to fly past the boat.
“And,” the word startled them both and it took Andrew a moment to realize he had been the one to speak.
“I was wondering.” Another indrawn breath did nothing to still the slight tremor in his hands. “What your feelings are about families aboard the Siren?”
“Families?”
“If I wanted to marry down the road, would you allow my wife to reside with me aboard the boat?”
Something down below the surface of the water bumped into the hull, making a loud hollow thunk of sound, and Andrew felt a bit of a chill touch his spine.
“When you marry,” the captain blew out a breath and the tone of his voice lowered into a muddy sound, “you would be able to bring her aboard, of course.”
The captain’s words were reassuring, but there seemed to be a hesitation in the man’s voice.
“As you’ve already seen,” the captain gestured to the water and the other side of the river, “we’re never in a place for too long. Let the people and cargo off, let people and cargo on. It’s a fairly repetitious business, and one that now takes just a few hours thanks to your skills.
“Sadly. With limited time at each stop, it would take finding a woman with quite a bit of patience to accept your courtship, let alone a proposal.
“That and finding a woman willing to live in what amounts to a floating house, could be a bit daunting.”
Andrew felt the older man’s words like heavy debris in the water. So far the pieces had been small, glancing off the hull, but Andrew was sure that the larger pieces were coming.
“How did you convince Mrs. Abraham to join you aboard?”
The captain’s head lowered a bit as he sighed. “It was a bit different with Eula,” and his voice sounded almost wistful, “I was a young man who had a dream and I went to a banker to get the money to buy a boat. He turned me down flat. Told me he didn’t give money to men with a dream. Only men proven to have a good head for business would ever get his money.
“Before you ask,” he chuckled to himself, “I didn’t take that no for his final answer. I went to his house that night, determined to try again. I walked up the front step of his home, bigger than the Siren’s grand staircase it was. And I began to knock and knock, until I thought I’d broken my knuckles. That was when the door opened.”
Andrew heard a wistful joy in the man’s voice and smiled.
“Eula Mae took one look at me and told me to ‘Stop makin’ such a ruckus, ‘fore I knock you to your knees!’ Ah, it was love at first sight. Such a fierce little thing.”
Andrew could see that the man really did love his wife, and it just went to prove that love was a strange and mysterious thing.
“Eula fell for me too after I tried to steal a kiss and she did what she promised. Knocked me to my knees and then took such tender care of me a moment later. She’s a fireball!” He chuckled at the seemingly endearing memory. “Her papa gave me the money for the boat as her dowry and we set sail a few months later.”
Andrew tried his best to hide his confusion at the older man’s love for his wife. There must truly be someone for everyone in the world.
And with that his thoughts turned to Rosemary, not that his thoughts were ever far from her.
She seemed to fill every free moment of his day and certainly his dreams at night.
Turning back to the water, Andrew watched the water swirling around the tree roots on the far side of the river.
“Well, what if my wife was already used to being on the river? If it wouldn’t be hard to convince her to stay on the boat because she already loved it?”
The air around him grew tense, chilling somewhat from the usual bath of humid heat.
“Does this woman have a name, Mister Brooks?”
Apprehension prickled along his skin like the air when a storm was near.
“She does, sir. Although, I haven’t revealed my growing regard for her yet. I wanted to speak with you first.”
The captain’s mood eased by a degree. “And what name does she answer to?”
Andrew appreciated that the captain’s tone wasn’t biting or hard. Still, he wasn’t sure what to make of this turn in the jovial man’s tone.
“Well, sir, I was hoping to court Rosemary if she would welcome my suit. I-”
“Rosemary?”
Andrew wasn’t sure what to make of the other man’s tone of voice. “Yes, sir. Rosemary. My intentions are honorable.”
“Your intentions don’t matter. Not in this matter. I can’t tell you why, but I need you to understand that if you have any designs on Rosemary, you’ll do yourself and everyone else a favor by setting them aside.”
He wanted to argue, wanted to explain, and to get answers of his own, but the look on the captain’s face spoke volumes.
“I like you as a man, Andrew Brooks, and you’re a damn good employee, but if you try to test me on this, I won’t be able to keep you on.”
The captain’s eyes weren’t hard or angry when Andrew looked at him. He could almost swear that there was more than a measure of sadness in his eyes, resignation, and maybe a little shame.
And when he was finally alone, listening to the heavy swish and fall of the water against the hull of the Siren, Andrew felt an ache begin in the center of his chest.
What had he done to warrant such a warning?
Was there anything he could do to change the captain’s mind?
He wasn’t sure and all he could do for the time being was try to respect the man’s wishes and keep his distance from the woman who already had his heart.
Chapter Seven
It had been almost an hour since Dollie had left them to seek her own bed, but Rosemary was glad that Edmund remained at the piano, ready to play another song.
Lately, Rosemary had slept little at night, her mind working over and over her newfound feelings and curious thoughts. Meeting Andrew and getting to know him as she’d known no one else in her life had unsettled her as much as it had elated her.
“Your thoughts are far away, Miss Tillman. Careful. If you let them roam too far away, they might not be able to find you when they try to come back.”
She sighed and folded her arms on the top of the standing piano as she watched him go through the sheet music he’d brought out.
“They aren’t so far away, Edmund.”
“Oh? Is this about someone I know?”
There was a bit of humor in his voice, but also a little hesitation.
She wanted to ask him about it, but he spoke before she had a chance.
“What song should we work on next, Miss Tillman? I have a few choices…”
“Can’t you call me Rosemary? We’ve known each other ever so long.”
She knew that it wasn’t really done to just pop out the question like that, but Edmund has been a part of her life as long as she could remember even if he had only been on the cursory edges of her life. “You know,” she leaned down until her chin touched her forearm, “my first memory of you was close to the time that I arrived on the Siren. I distinctly remember you telling me… ‘Little Miss, get down from there before you break your neck!’ For the life of me,” she
laughed, “I can’t remember what it was that I’d climbed upon, but I remember how it felt to have you chastise me.”
She tilted her head until her forearm was under her cheek.
“I was so worried that you were really cross with me and that I’d done something unforgivable. I hoped that I hadn’t been so much trouble that you’d decided to stay far away from me.” She nibbled on the plump flesh of her bottom lip. “And when I hugged you, you went as still as stone.” She tried to push away the tears that welled up at the long-forgotten memory. “Was it so wrong, Edmund? Hugging you like that?”
The room grew so silent that she could hear the whisper-soft tick tick tick of the clock.
“The hug was sweet, Rosemary.”
She bit her lip to keep from interrupting him.
“But I was worried. It was one thing to be around you, that couldn’t be helped since we were both aboard the same boat. It was more for the sake of propriety. A little girl as pale as you were, with your arms around… well, embracing a-”
“Why does that have to matter so much?” She couldn’t help the rush of frustration and anger pouring though her veins. “It was an innocent embrace, from a little girl who wanted to thank her friend for watching out for her.”
He shook his head and laughed, but the sound was thin, and a bit rough. “It would have mattered,” he sighed, “and will continue to matter long after I’m dead and laid to rest.”
Her lips pursed into a thin line. “Well, that’s something I don’t want to think about.”
He laughed again, a softer, lighter sound. “Then don’t think of it, but beware of it. Now, what should we learn next.”
She saw the way he avoided her gaze and pulled a piece of music from the bunch he held in his hand. “What about this one?”
He stood from the bench and set the sheet music on the top so she could see it. “It’s called ‘The Sea Hath Pearls.’ The words were written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, but the music was written by a German composer.”
Her nose wrinkled a little. “I’ll be able to sing it in English, right? I don’t think I could sing it in another language.”
Edmund laughed, a full, warm sound. “You could learn it. Just like you learn everything new… with practice.” He gestured at the words on the paper. “Read along with me.”
Her quick look said he should remember that her reading skills were sorely lacking.
But he didn’t need a reminder and began to read with her repeating after him.
“The sea hath its pearls,
The heaven hath its stars;
But my heart, my heart,
My heart has its love.
Thou little, youthful maiden,
Come unto my great heart;
My heart, and the sea and the heaven
Are melting away with love!”
After they’d read it a few times and Rosemary’s voice found the words right alongside his own, he nudged the paper to her. “Take that with you and repeat the words,” he used his pointer finger to follow the melody notes on the first line, “so you’ll be ready to hear the music with it during our next practice.”
She took the sheet music and held it in both hands, her eyes moving over the words. “It’s really beautiful, Edmund.”
When he didn’t speak, she looked up at him and saw the sheen of tears in his eyes.
“It reminds me of your mother.” He swallowed and she heard the rough hitch in his voice. “She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, but when she would sing I felt like it was just for me.”
He took a breath, but his shoulders seemed to shake, and her concern turned to shock.
“You loved her, didn’t you?”
Smiling again, Edmund nodded. “I loved her dearly, and she loved me to… in a way. Not as I dreamed of. She fell in love with a man, a man who promised her the world and left her.”
“Left her pregnant… with me.”
Edmund nodded again. “I asked her to marry me still. I told her my love for her would never end. I wanted to be there for her, but she refused me. I think she was hoping that he would come back for her, but he didn’t. His family didn’t approve of their love.
“I told her I would do anything to make her happy, but she waited, I think, until the end.”
“Do you think you’ll ever love again?”
His smile disarmed her. Edmund rarely offered much in the way of expressions. “I’m still in love, Rosemary.”
Leaning her elbow on the top of the piano, Rosemary leaned her cheek on her hand and smiled at him. “With my mother?”
Nodding, Edmund took the rest of the sheet music off the stand and set it down beside him on the bench. “Some of that has carried over to you. She wouldn’t let me take care of her, but if you ever need my help. You have it.”
“Is that why you volunteered to help me?” She blinked rapidly to ward off the tears that threatened to fall. “Because I’m my mother’s daughter?”
He started to nod again and then shook his head. “Some, yes.” Edmund paused for a moment and then the corner of his mouth tugged up in a half-smile. “And some because of your voice. When I hear you sing, it’s almost as if I hear her again. She was more of a pure soprano, a soft and lilting beauty sent down from heaven.”
Rosemary hesitated, knowing that her voice was different. She just worried that he found some fault with her.
“Your voice,” he leaned on the closed keyboard cover and looked up at her, “is warm and full. Like the scent of bread fresh from the oven or flowers picked in their full bloom. Your mama was an angel, and you her earth born child.”
It was impossible for her to hold back the tears. Covering her face with her hands, she cried bitterly.
Suddenly lonely deep down in her soul.
All her memories of her mother were just feelings of love and comfort. She heard words in her head, song lyrics from time to time, but there was nothing specific that she could point to.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard the soft touch of Edmund’s voice. “I didn’t want to hurt you, child. I didn’t want to give you pain.”
Rosemary shook her head but couldn’t move her hands away. “I’m hurting, but it’s not because of you.” A shaking, indrawn breath felt like hot air entering her lungs. “I don’t have much to remember my mother by. You’ve given me the gift of your memories.”
A hand touched her shoulder, turning her slightly, and then she was in his embrace.
It was hard to reconcile her idea of silent, stoic, Edmund as the person holding her gently and rubbing his hand on her back. Her sniffles were answered by him as well when he pushed a handkerchief into her hand.
Laughing at her own weakness, she stepped back and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “I’m so sorry, Edmund. I’ve cried on your jacket.”
He waved it off with a subtle shake of his head. “You need to cry, you cry. No need to hold something as natural like that inside.”
Looking down at the handkerchief in her hand her cheeks warmed. “I seem to be making a habit of borrowing handkerchiefs. I’ll wash yours like I did Mr. Brooks’ handkerchief and give it back to you.”
Her gaze flickered up to Edmund’s face and she tensed at the serious set of his brows.
“Did he upset you?”
The question startled her with the intensity of Edmund’s voice. At first, she had thought he was upset with her, but her worries were put to rest when he spoke again.
“If he upset you, just tell me. He has no right-”
“Edmund, really, I’m fine. It was a kind gesture, just like yours.” She reached out and took hold of his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so lucky to have such wonderful people in my life. I am truly honored to know that you care.”
He lifted his free hand and covered the hand that she laid on his arm.
Rosemary saw his throat work to swallow.
“I know your mother didn’t choose me to love, Rosemary, but I never stopped lovin
g her. I’ve no right to ask or even hope, but if you ever have need of a father…”
She saw his eyes widen as if he was afraid that he might have crossed a line or upset her.
“I know you’re already a woman full grown, but,” he drew in a breath, “if you don’t want or need me-”
She didn’t need another word.
Wrapping her arms around Edmund she felt him tense and hold still as a post, but that didn’t stop her from pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve never had a father, Edmund.” She leaned back and looked into eyes glistening with tears. “I wouldn’t know what it means to be a daughter, but I would be proud to hold you in my heart and learn along the way.”
She let her eyes drift closed when Edmund placed a kiss on her forehead.
“You’re a good, kind woman, Rosemary. We will learn together.”
His words and his gentle touch lifted her spirits, but her body was tired and she fought off a yawn.
“Now, go,” he told her with a gentle nudge toward the door. “Sleep.”
When Rosemary got to the door she turned back to look at him. “I think you’re just perfect as a father, Edmund. Thank you for everything you’ve given me from your heart. I hope I’ll make you proud.”
He didn’t say anything, shuttering his expression. It didn’t bother her. Edmund had always been a quiet, sober person and expressing so many emotions must have been tiring.
Still, he mustered up a smile and gave her the slightest of nods. “Don’t you worry, Rosemary. There are no words to tell you how proud I am just to have you near.”
Andrew stood outside the practice room, unable to move away. He’d gone up to the main deck of the boat and stood outside to enjoy the faintest strains of the music within.
It had been a transcendent experience. The world had been new to him when he’d arrived at the Sailor’s Rest school. The men all had different skills that they’d come to the school with and they all had skills that they lacked. Along the way, things had been shared between the men and the teachers made up for the rest.