Her life was busy, and allowed little time for leisure; moments like this were a precious rarity. Even thought she’d lived her entire life in Fayetteville, this was her first voyage down the Cape Fear. She was here in a work capacity, yes, but then her duties were completed, she planned to enjoy the festivities and the scenery to the fullest.
The soft breeze changed direction, and as she inhaled again, she picked up a scent.
Fresh cut wood, and maleness.
Without opening her eyes, she knew who was there.
~~~
Will stopped at the railing, next to where Rosaline stood with her eyes closed and her face lifted up toward the sunlight. He leaned his body against the railing and watched her for a moment, not wanting to interrupt whatever private thoughts she might be entertaining.
She took a breath, opened her eyes and directed her gaze at him. A slight smile touched the corners of her mouth before the soft pink lips parted to speak. “Hello again, Will.”
He smiled. “Rosaline.”
She turned her gaze away from him, as if looking out over the water.
From this side of the deck, they had a good view of the river traffic moving alongside them, headed in the opposite direction. He wasn’t surprised, since the Cape Fear was the most important river in the entire state for commercial transport. Just about anything that needed to be transported inland from the port of Wilmington would be loaded on a steamer or a towboat and hauled up the river to Elizabethtown, Fayetteville, Averasboro, or one of the other landing points along the winding waterway. From there the goods would travel by land to final destinations all over the North Carolina.
The healthy maritime shipping industry on the Cape Fear was the main reason behind the success of Cape Fear Shipworks. Aside from the building of new vessels, Will and his crew also completed repairs of older vessels and provided assistance to any vessel passing through Fayetteville that might meet with trouble, such as running aground on the jagged shoreline, or mechanical failure.
They also often assisted ships in the case of a malfunction of Lock #3, which was just a few miles downriver from the shipyard. It was the last of the three locks located on the river route between Wilmington and Fayetteville, and any vessel hoping to get further inland had to navigate through it. The fickle and ever-changing nature of the water levels in the river necessitated the installation of the locks; Lock #3 seemed to be one of the busiest. The device was meant to raise and lower the water level as needed to allow the passage of ships traveling in either direction, but occasionally it didn’t work as it should. A malfunctioning lock could force river traffic to back up for miles.
He chuckled to himself, thinking of the things he’d seen over the years he’d worked on this waterway. The Cape Fear was harsh mistress, confounding and outsmarting captains as every bend. The river was rife with opportunity for disaster, but the location and expansive nature of the waterway meant that boats needed to use it anyhow.
At this moment, a small steamboat chugged along near the Lantern, headed east. He recognized it as a cargo ship, one he was familiar with.
He read the name of the vessel, painted in black letters on the bough. “The Regal Lady.”
Rosaline eyed the vessel curiously. “You’ve seen that ship before, I gather?”
“I have. She’s owned by a man named Richards, who sends cargo upriver to Averasboro about once a week. We’ve made repairs to that vessel, and once we helped the crew get her off a sandbar.” Already, the thick, acrid scent of the boat’s load permeated the air.
She wrinkled her nose. “Heavens, what business is this Richards in? Whatever he’s shipping smells awful.”
He chuckled, but could see why the cargo on the Regal Lady might offend her nose. “I don’t know what Mr. Richards’ line of business is, but his ship hauls barrels of raw turpentine, pine pitch, and tar.”
She fanned her hand in front of her nose. “I don’t know how the crew stands the stench.”
He shrugged. “After a while, they become accustomed to it, I suppose.”
As the Regal Lady passed them, the captain threw up his hand in greeting.
Will returned the gesture, and next to him, Rosaline waved her handkerchief at the passing vessel.
He let his gaze rake over her body, being as discreet as he could manage. She was a beauty in every sense. Her lithe, shapely figure could not be disguised, even by her demure clothing. She had full lips, a proud nose, and perfectly coiffed dark hair. And the sherry colored eyes, framed by a thick fringe of black lashes, were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.
As if she sensed his attentions, she turned his way. “Is there something I can do for you, Will?”
He knew what he must ask of her. While he had her here, aboard the boat he’d designed and built, he need to ask her the question that had been plaguing him for weeks. He stepped closer to her, entering her personal space. If she was surprised by the move, she didn’t let on. “Yes, there is. You can let me court you.”
She blinked several times. “My, Will. Your words are very bold.”
“Are they? There is something between us, Rosie. A spark, an attraction. Call it what you will, but you feel it just as I do.”
She lowered her gaze, and redness touched her cheeks. “Will, I...I don’t know what to say.”
He reached for her hand, clasped it in both of his own. “Say yes, Rosie.”
Her hand trembled inside his as she looked at him. “I can’t. Not now.”
He held her gaze, saw the sadness behind her beautiful eyes. Was there some darkness dwelling within her, something about her he didn’t know? “Why not?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, took a slow, deep breath. When she reopened them, she spoke again. “I can’t speak of it. All I ask is that you give me until we dock in Wilmington to make my decision.”
Still holding her hand, he nodded. He’d waited nearly a year since he realized she’d taken his heart, to ask her to be his. Surely he could last the next few hours. “As you wish.”
She gave a soft smile, but this one held traces of some unspoken pain. “Thank you for understanding, Will.” She eased her hand from his grasp, turned, and slipped away from him.
~~~
Rosaline wove her way through the tangle of people on the deck, headed toward the parlor door.
Speaking with Will had brought back memories of the erotic dream she’d had the night before. He’d probably noticed the blush creeping into her cheeks, but thankfully, he could not have known the reason she blushed. She couldn’t recall ever having had such a hot, potent dream about a man. Even now she could clearly recall the rippled muscles of his bare chest, illuminated by the soft glow of her lamp. She’d wanted him, wanted him to kiss her, to touch her, and to show her what coupling could be when consent and mutual respect guided the act. Her desire for him had caught her by surprise, leaving her both scandalized, and curious.
Now that he’d declared his desire to court her, parts of her were elated. As he’d said, the attraction between them was very real, no matter how much the two of them fought to ignore it. Had she haunted his dreams, the way he’d haunted hers? She didn’t know and was much too shy to ask. Still, she wondered what being with him would mean. Would she be a mistress to him, someone he kept on hand to satisfy his male urges? Or would she be his heart’s true love, and become his wife?
If they did marry, what would that mean? She’d spent many years held as a piece of property, without any rights or freedom whatsoever. She’d been completely vulnerable in every way, subject to the whims of her master no matter the situation. Would marriage merely mean captivity of a different sort? She didn’t know, but she knew she didn’t want to give up her freedom, not for anyone or anything.
One thing she enjoyed about baking was that it allowed her time to herself. She was so accustomed to carrying out the measuring and mixing that her mind was free to wander and untangle whatever thoughts and feelings plaguing her. This matter of Will, and his of
fer to court, would require some tall contemplating. She hoped to retreat to the cake table and prepare for the serving, without encountering anyone who might detain her.
Her hopes were dashed when Marian Goodman stepped into her path.
Rosaline stopped walking in order to avoid colliding with her. “Mrs. Goodman. Is there something I can do for you? I was just about to begin slicing the cake for serving.”
Marian gave her a hint of a smile. “I want to talk to you. Can you spare me a moment, dear?”
She nodded, even as she wondered what Mrs. Goodman wanted. She had the distinct feeling that this was not about the cake, and though her interest level was nonexistent, she knew she must hear what the woman had to say, or risk offending her.
Marian took hold of her arm and led her to a quiet corner of the parlor. No people stood nearby, and the only thing occupying the space was a curio cabinet. By now, the caterers were beginning to set out the spread to be served for the afternoon, and the aromas of roasted meats and other tasty dishes scented the air. Rosaline could tell it would be a sumptuous feast, and she hoped her cake would be a proper ending to the meal.
When Marian spoke to her, her usually loud voice was just above a whisper. “Rosaline, I know this is a personal question, but do you have a beau? Or any plans to marry up soon?”
She shook her head, seeing no reason to inform her of the conversation with Will. “No, I can’t say I do. I’m far too busy with work to even think about such things now.”
Marian slowly shook her head, her pursed lips indicating her disapproval. “Rosaline, dear. I can appreciate your dedication to your work, and your desire to do well in business. But you must consider your age, and the times we live in. It’s important that you think about your future.”
Rosaline stopped herself from scoffing at that. The future was precisely what she thought about most of the time. The past was too painful to think about, and the present often felt like drudgery. “I understand your concerns, Mrs. Goodman.”
“And I hope you’ll take them to heart. Your past may be sullied by captivity, but you’re still a fine, upstanding, hard-working girl.”
Rosaline’s eyes widened at Mrs. Goodman’s words. It wasn’t so much what she’d said, as the tone in which she said it, that angered Rosaline. Mrs. Goodman supposed advice had quickly morphed into an insult; she made it sound as if her status as a former slave were something to be ashamed of. What, did Mrs. Goodman think she’d chosen to be born into captivity? To be slapped in the mouth for the slightest infraction, to be forced to breed like a common hog?
When she said nothing, Marian spoke, as if the silence bothered her. “I hope I haven’t upset you dear. My intentions are good, I promise. I only have one more thing to offer.”
She still said nothing, but eyed Mrs. Goodman expectantly.
“If and when you do choose to marry, go above your station. Marrying someone else who was a captive will only make your life difficult. The two of you would likely be committing to a lifetime of struggle.”
Rosaline couldn’t hold back the soft sigh that escaped her lips. Mrs. Goodman made marriage sound less and less appealing with each word that came out of her mouth. According to her, marriage was a necessity, but a near impossibility for her due to her past. Beyond that, she shouldn’t choose a spouse based on love, but should choose a wealthy man who could give her a life of ease.
“Your expression tells me you hoped to marry for love.”
“Don’t we all?” Rosaline wasn’t a child; she knew the realities of life as a Negro in this country. During her days on the Rhodes plantation, she’d briefly considered jumping to broom to avoid the breeding. She hesitated then because she wanted to know love. When she’d been declared barren, marriage for any purpose other than true love had become unnecessary. Why should she settle for less than that now that she was free?
Marian offered a smile, yet her eyes held sadness. “Yes, I suppose we do, when we’re young. But soon enough, we grow up and realize a love match isn’t always a possibility.”
Rosaline watched Mrs. Goodman, regarding the wistful look she wore. Was there a hint of regret in her words? Had she married Chauncey to advance her station in life, rather than because he made her heart soar?
Marian seemed to come back to herself, cleared her throat. “Anyhow, dear, that was all I wanted to say. I know it’s difficult to hear, but just try to keep an open mind. Happiness can come in many forms, Rosaline. If you’re offered a chance at stability, don’t dismiss it so quickly.”
She bobbed her head up and down, keeping her facial expression as even as she could manage despite the frustration raging inside her.
Seemingly satisfied, Mrs. Goodman walked away, leaving Rosaline there in the quiet corner to reflect on all she’d just heard.
~~~
The four o’clock hour brought a degree of relief from the hottest part of the day. Will stood by the rear of the ship, positioned behind the parlor, watching the churning paddle wheel displace the water as the vessel moved along.
After the Regal Lady, several other ships had passed the Hope’s Lantern. He’d greeted the captains and crew members of all of them, even the ones he wasn’t familiar with. Navigating this river was a rough enough prospect on its own; it just made sense for the crews manning the vessels to be friendly to one another. One never knew when assistance might be needed.
His stomach growled as he inhaled the aroma of the food being set out in the parlor. The plans for the ship had included a small kitchen area off the parlor, where food could be slow cooked, or kept warm. He and his men had installed a wood burning stove of sorts, which consisted of a long table built into the wall, with a grate inset, and an iron shelf beneath to hold the wood. The stove had also been fitted with a ventilation pipe to allow the smoke to escape.
As a man who’d spent his whole life around fresh cut lumber, he could tell by the scent in the air that the caterers had chosen hickory wood for today’s meal. His stomach growled again as he caught the scent of some roasted meat. Deciding to give in to his hunger, he made his way into the parlor to fix himself a plate.
Typical of any party thrown by the Goodmans, the buffet featured an array of delicious foods. Once Will had grabbed a crystal dinner plate and silverware, he loaded the plate down with cuts of roast beef, soft yeast rolls, green beans seasoned with ham and onions, and fried potatoes. Adding a cup of punch from the beverage table, he went back out onto the deck and went to where Bret stood, still at the helm.
He took a seat on a nearby crate and asked, “Isn’t Earl coming to relieve you?”
Bret nodded, his eye still on the waters ahead. “Any moment now. Then I can get some vittles.”
Will took a bite of the roast beef and groaned with satisfaction. “It’s very good. Well-seasoned.”
He ate for a few moments before the loud growling of Bret’s stomach caught his attention.
Earl Hartfield, who was first mate for the voyage, finally strolled up. Earl was brown haired, blue-eyed fellow of forty, a rare Yankee transplant from New Jersey in the mid-Atlantic. “Go get something to eat, Longstreet.”
“Gladly.” Bret stepped aside and allowed Earl to step up to the wheel, then disappeared into the parlor get his plate.
Will watched the deft way Earl guided the ship. Having served in the Union navy during the war, Hartfied was a skilled sailor. “How’s the family, Earl?”
“Good. Wife’s carrying again, this’ll be our fourth.”
Will whistled. “Quite a brood you’ve got.”
Earl chuckled, his eyes on the waters ahead. “They are something. Oldest is nearly ten and the youngest just turned two. They keep me plenty busy, that’s for certain.”
Bret returned with his plate and drink, taking a seat on the deck floor near where Will sat. “What’re you hoping for this go ‘round, Earl?”
In response to Bret’s question, Earl smiled. “Mostly I just want a healthy babe, but I won’t be upset if I get another son
.”
Will knew that so far, the Hartfield family included Earl, his wife Hazel, and two sons and one daughter. He thought about his own future, and wondered if he’d ever have a family, or even a wife. He could not be sure of his ability to support a family, at least not now. The shipyard had been turning reasonable profits as of late, but certainly not so much that he’d rest on his laurels.
Earl said, “That reminds me, I need to take on whatever extra hours you can give me at the shipyard. Taking care of the youngin’s is getting mighty expensive.”
Will nodded. “Sure, Earl. I can give you a bit more work.”
In truth, Will knew that adding extra time for Earl would put a strain on his payroll budget, but the man was raising a growing brood. He would simply stretch his business dollars a bit, and cut expenses where he could. Earl was a faithful employee as well as a good friend; giving him a few extra hours was the least Will could do for him.
He thought of Rosaline. He imagined she was busy preparing her cake to be served to the party goers. She always appeared so serious, so fastidious. He knew he’d done the right thing by asking her to be his. Many questions still remained in his mind about how their courtship would progress, if at all. He’d done his part in asking her, now it was up to her to say yes or no.
If she did decide to court him, where would the journey take them? As far as he could tell, he was as easygoing as she was serious. Thinking of it now, he’d never seen her enjoy a deep belly laugh, and he wondered what it would take to amuse her to that point. Would he ever be able to help her release her cares and enjoy life?
Courtships in this day and age were meant to lead to marriage. That was why he’d asked to court her instead of asking her to be his mistress. His intentions were honorable, because he knew Rosaline was too special a woman for mere dalliance. If they were to marry it would lead to yet another conundrum: how would he support his wife, and any children they might have?
The Brightest Day: A Juneteenth Historical Romance Anthology Page 12