* * *
The men came home to an empty house but Archibald was not alarmed.
“Every morning the family goes out to collect fallen wood to supply the pit. First thing we do is to restock the fire. Grab some of that dried hay and that there stirrin’ stick, bring it back over here. There are usually hot embers still alive from last night, so reheat them with the bellows,” Archibald instructed. Patrick pumped the bellows until the embers grew orange. He then tossed some hay and kindling onto the smoldering pit. With the kiss of air pumped from the bellow, flame was immediately summoned and the pit sprung to life. The men stacked some driftwood in and tended the fire until it glowed. It took a half an hour of burning wood to get it hot enough for their purposes.
“Here, lad. You can use my old apron and gloves," Archibald offered. "They are thick buckskin and will keep you safe.” Archibald then helped Patrick tie the heavy apron on.
“Now I have already melted some of the scrap metal and drawn the metal out into rods. Take this rod and heat it until it glows orange.” Archibald demonstrated, “Put it deep into the embers like this. Now, pull it out before it melts and quickly bring it to the anvil.”
The seasoned blacksmith began to forge and shape the glowing end of the rod into a four-sided point. He worked very quickly and then placed the nail shape end on the chisel sticking up out of the anvil. He proceeded to turn the rod over and over as he struck it against the chisel. He then took the chisel-weakened section and bent it until it broke off from the long rod. Finally he grabbed the glowing nail with a circular pair of pliers and inserted the nail into a hole in the anvil. He quickly pounded a flat head onto the nail and dunked it in cool water. With his adroit craftsmanship, the whole process was over in less than a minute and there sat a fine looking nail. Patrick was impressed with the speed and skill Archibald possessed.
Archibald sensing Patrick’s distress reassured him, “Don’t worry, son. After a few thousand nails you will be just as fast. You ready to try your hand at it?” To that, Patrick nodded. He worked until sundown with Archibald’s close supervision. At the end of the day, there were fifteen mangled, misshapen nails and ten that were passable. It was hard hot dirty work but at least the heat drove off the mosquitoes and annoying, biting sand gnats.
Patrick was beginning to feel confident in his vocation of pounding out nails. When Mari Anna and Prudence arrived to call on Heather, the disruption caused Patrick to smash his thumb with his hammer. The two girls laughed at Patrick's misfortune. Archibald, the veteran blacksmith, had to laugh as well. "Mind your hammer, lad!” Patrick's thumb turned almost as red as his cheeks. The elder Freeman then patted his shoulder and suggested they break for supper.
That day, Maximilian and Amos had caught four decent sized fish and Heather and Marian had readied them for cooking. The visiting ladies graciously brought a basket of fresh apples with them and they all dined under the dogwood. After their bellies were full and good conversation was shared, the anxious young ladies prodded the wigged smith to escort them to St. James Square.
“Daddy, it's starting. Can we please go?” Heather whined.
"Yes, my dear," he answered and then turned to his apprentice. “Would you like to hear some music this evening, Mr. Willis?”
Patrick nodded eagerly.
The three young women checked their appearances, fixing each other’s hair, as the group started on their stroll to the square. The three giggling girls held hands and walked ahead of Archibald and Patrick, making jokes the two men could not hear.
“If I can be so direct," Patrick boldly asked, "it seems odd, sir, that three adult women are not already bonded to men and baring children. This colony has many single men. Are they not being courted?”
“Oh, lad, these three be the most courted women in the colonies but they never accept any man’s advances. They treat the men like toys and accept their gifts but they seem more focused on being with each other than finding themselves in a family way.”
“Savannah is an odd colony. I have never seen women so carefree and not bound by social graces,” Patrick carefully noted.
“Lad, the king’s military and upper crust socialites act nothing like us working colonists. You will take a bloodcoat’s musket butt to the teeth if you do not adhere to their strict social protocol. Our friends are very careful about who and where we speak openly around,” Archibald warned.
“So how do you know you can trust me?" Patrick inquired. "How come you already speak freely around and with me?"
Archibald stopped in the street and turned to face Patrick. His face looked grave yet sympathetic. “Because you spent some time in the king's prison. I know you must hate the government that did this to you.”
Patrick stopped in his tracks and the color ran from his face. He then hung his head shamefully and muttered, “It’s true, Mr. Freeman, but how did you know I was a convict?”
“No free man would indenture his time so long. A freeman would only do five years at most for passage. Your debt is seven years, so I reckoned only a prisoner without a choice would accept those terms,” Archibald reasoned.
Patrick confessed, “It is true. I will tell you anything you want to know. I hated being clandestine with you. I was under mortal threat by Captain Gibbons to conceal the truth from you. Just please, sir, don’t return me. There is only death for me back at sea.”
Archibald put a caring hand on Patrick's shoulder and begun to walk. “Lad, you have no worries by me. Just tell me your story and speak the truth without fear.”
Heather, Prudence and Mari Anna milk courters for free gifts
Pirates of Savannah Trilogy: Book One, Sold in Savannah - Young Adult Action Adventure Historical Fiction Page 23