Every Time It Rains (Uncharted Secrets, Book 3): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  Having seen how attractive Jude Addison was, I certainly agreed that it could be worse. Hope’s older sister, Thankful, had to marry a man three times her age who was so old and wrinkly that I wanted to cry at her wedding.

  At that moment we were called to join our families for dinner. Taking a seat next to my mother, I put my hands together for grace. While Mister Gordon prayed that the Lord would bless our meal, I prayed that my father would never force me into a marriage for his own fiscal gain.

  Dinner seemed to go on forever. Course after course, and drink after drink were served. By the time dessert was dished out, the men had all fallen drunk, and the joyful laughter filled the hall in such a way that I began to wonder if they had not forgotten what was so important about this dinner party.

  Once dessert was done, my father rang his spoon on his glass, gathering everyone’s attention. In silence we stared at him as he made his announcement to the group. “As you all know, Mister Gordon and I have been running a successful shipping company for many years now, and we have decided that it is high time we open up receiving branches in the New World. My brother, Lloyd Wilshire, will be managing a branch in Bridgetown, Barbados, while Mister Gordon steps up to cover my end of this one here in London. As for me, well, I will be taking reign over the branch we will be opening in the newfound English port, Port Royal, Jamaica.”

  With wide eyes, I watched his lips spit out the words, and with open ears I heard everyone ringing their glasses in cheers, congratulating the company’s success. But in my heart I could not believe it. Stunned as stiff as Mother looked, I forced a smile when Father caught my gaze.

  The thought of leaving my home for an uncertain future had me feeling worried. Port Royal was only recently claimed as English soil, and I had no idea what it would be like. Would it look like London? Would the town be made of stable buildings or would it be dirt and huts? Where would we live? What would I do? What about my friends here?

  Then I realized…We would have to sail there. Yes! We’d be getting on a tall ship, and from the wooden deck I would watch the sails fill with the wind. The salty mist of the sea would sprinkle on my sun tanned skin in the daytime, and the stars would surround the darkened abyss of the sea at night. Though I was certain I would only be a passenger aboard this sailing vessel, in my mind, I would be a sailor. Like Mason and Midnight, the sea would soon be mine for the taking. The day we would set sail could not come soon enough.

  The next time my eyes connected with my father, my smile was one of sincere and genuine joy. I was so proud of him for succeeding in his dreams, and for making mine come true, as well.

  X

  “To the sea, Remington!” my drunken father hooted as we sat down in the carriage. “You finally get to sail on a ship at sea.”

  “I am so excited, Father. Your business has grown so much and I am most proud of you.”

  “Hard work and dedication, and you can get what you want out of life. Don’t forget that, my beauty.”

  “That is not true for women. We only get to do what we are told and only receive the things we are handed.” Mother’s negative comment shot through our happy moment like a bolt of lightning.

  “Oh, stop it, Hannah. This is good news for all of us.” He fanned his hand at her.

  “For me, there is nothing good about the thought of getting on another ship. In case you missed Lloyd’s story, pirates are still running wild on those seas. We have the safety of a young girl to consider, and—”

  “And she will be fine,” he spat in irritation. “Just because Mason Bentley stole Mister Parkston’s Talon doesn’t mean we will be in danger.”

  Mortified by the thought of my hero becoming a villain, I gasped, “I missed that part of the discussion, Father. What happened?”

  “After Mister Parkston paid Bentley the hefty payment he had promised him, Bentley and his men, including that damned boy of his, snuck onto the Talon in the middle of the night and took her as their own. Bastards. I sure am glad I didn’t hire that damned sea rogue. One can never trust a pirate.” He winked at me. “Remember that, too.”

  My mind ran wild with curiosity. “Why do you think they took it? If they were paid well, why would they want to rob the man they worked for?”

  Mother spoke up. “Because some rich sons of bitches think they are entitled to take reign over the working class, and some men are brave enough to fight back. Mason Bentley is one of them.”

  Father looked at her as if she had wished the plague upon us. “You will not be feeding your poppycock pirate ideals to our daughter, Hannah.” He looked at me with a much kinder expression than he offered her. “It is because pirates are lazy villains who do what they want with no concern for the hard works of the world around them.”

  “Speaking of no concern,” Mother huffed, “Your lack of consideration regarding my opinion about this dreadful move has upset me greatly. I do not want to leave London.”

  Sloppily slouching over in his seat, Father belched. “Ah, you aren’t happy no matter what I do, so you can hide away with your bird in Jamaica, now. What does it matter which four walls you hide behind?”

  Looking utterly offended, she gasped, “It matters plenty! This is my life, too, you know. Not just yours. I should have a say over the matters concerning the livelihood of myself and my child.”

  “A say? Ha! Get over that shit, Hannah. I can only imagine the mess we’d be in if you were the one calling the shots. I’m your husband and you’re my wife and I will continue to make the decisions around here, whether you like it or not.”

  “Sometimes I hate being your wife.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Sometimes I think I should have left you with that damn pirate you belonged to.”

  To my horror, she lunged out of her seat and screamed like a crazy woman. “He was a buccaneer!”

  Unsure if I was more stunned by his words or her fervent defense over this strange pirate they were fighting about, I slinked back in the corner as he pounded his fist against the carriage door. “Don’t you ever scream at me like that, woman.”

  His violent reaction scared me to death, but she lightly snipped, “Perhaps you should leave me here and take your red-headed slut with you to Jamaica. I’m sure she will be happy to do whatever you say.”

  “That is enough, Hannah!” He shouted the words so loudly it seemed like my hair blew back.

  To my great fortune, we came upon the house before another word, or fist, could be flung between them, but I was heartbroken to see my father stagger off into the night without saying where he was going.

  Putting her arm around my trembling body, my mother held me close. “Come now, my little rain drop. Everything will be fine.”

  She was surprisingly calm after the awful fit of violence, and I was ever so pleased to have her guide me through the quiet house and help me into my nightgown. Once I lay in bed, she knelt beside me and took a deep breath. Though I thought she was going to explain what went wrong between her and Father, or at least apologize, she surprised me by asking, “What did Odelia say to you?”

  The horrid memory suddenly seemed so insignificant in comparison to the terror I faced on the way home, yet as I spilled the details word by word, I began sobbing like a baby.

  My mother held me close as I cried, prodding me for details while comforting my sobs. Once it seemed she had gathered all the information she needed, she stood up and began unpinning her fanciful hairdo. “That wretch doesn’t know a thing about me, Remington.” She shook her locks loose and began braiding them. “Nor does your father. If you want to know about my life, my child, then you ask me. But remember, don’t ever ask questions you do not want the answers to.”

  With that she dimmed my lantern and left the room. In the silence of night, I heard her pacing and grumbling to the bird about Odelia. She murmured something about a smelly alley slut and a loose bar trollop. She laughed to herself about who had won the game, and she sneered about the fire that burned witches alive. Sh
e then mumbled something about a precious secret, but her voice then hushed into a spooky whisper.

  No longer able to translate her insolent ramblings, my exhausted mind quickly found its way to rest.

  Unsure how long I had been out, I awoke to a house void of sound, but the light in Mother’s room was still on and the door was wide open. Sitting up in bed, I leaned over to where I might see through her door. In the dim lighting, I watched her open her secret chest. Having never looked in there, and knowing better than to ask what she kept in it, I was surprised to see her pull out a black cloak. From where she stood, I could no longer see her, but with the candle burning behind her, I watched her shadow on the wall adorning the black cloak.

  The ghastly sight sent a frosty chill down my spine, and in the warm house I shivered as if the windows were open. Lying back down I drew my blankets over my head, trying to hide from the frightful visions running wild in my mind. Do not ask questions you do not want to know the answers to, I chanted to myself. I did not want to know why she kept that cloak in her secret chest. I had no interest in finding how she drifted down the stairs so silently, like a ghost in the night, and I certainly had no desire to know what she would do once she walked out of the front door. Nor did I get up to see which direction she headed. No one but her cursed bird knew what she was up to, and I held no resentments over their shared secrets this time.

  Hiding my face under my blanket, I tried to go back to sleep. I did not want to know where my drunken father had gone, and I didn’t want to know what that mean old Odelia knew about my mother’s past. For a short while, the evening had been the best of my life, but it had suddenly turned into an awful nightmare, and I never wanted to think of this terrible, terrible night, ever, ever again.

  Chapter 5

  The World Outside My Own

  Odelia went missing the night of the dinner party. Eventually she was found dead in an alleyway, with her neck slashed open. I was mortified to the core. I had long since known that people died, and I had seen plenty of carriages carrying caskets through town, but I had not yet known anyone who had been murdered. Not that I knew Odelia, and I certainly didn’t like her, but it was spooky knowing that she was killed right here in my town.

  Lloyd went back to Barbados without ever finding out who did it, but the visual of my mother slinking out in that black cloak kept haunting my mind like a ghost. There was no way she could have done such a thing. Certainly, she was a bit insane, but she was tiny and weak and silly. There was no way she could have been responsible for such a heinous deed. Yet, when my father asked me what my mother had been doing that night, I went right along with her lie.

  Mother was home with me all night, I told him. It was easy enough to believe my own words, because the witch who snuck out wearing that black cloak was not my mother. I didn’t know who she was, and though I never wanted to see her again, she had been haunting my dreams ever since.

  X

  The next year and a half of my life passed like a hazy dream. With Father busy preparing for the move, he was hardly around, but my mother had been spending more time with me than ever. Though I was certain it was only to keep me from bonding with Dinah while Father was away, I had been enjoying our time together nonetheless. She had not snuck out in the night again, nor had she written or received any soul haunting letters that I knew of, so our relationship almost felt normal. Her momentary stretch of sanity couldn’t have come at a better time, for my body had finally decided to stake its claim as a woman, and as I went through these awkward changes, I was ever so grateful to have her helpful guidance.

  Over the months, I’d passed her in height, and absurdly large breasts had sprouted out from my flat chest, filling my dresses in a way that called for a whole new wardrobe. Mother and I spent the last few days shopping and were now finding stylish ways to make the best of my new image.

  “Look at that.” She adjusted the plush flesh protruding out of my bodice. “Your breasts are twice the size of mine.”

  “And I am twice as tall as you.” I laughed. “I feel like a gangly giant.”

  “Oh, stop it. You are ridiculously gorgeous, Remington Rain.” She turned me to face the mirror. “Just look at yourself.”

  My reflection was hardly familiar. The curve of my hips and the fullness of my breasts made me look so much older than I was, but my cheeks were sprinkled with stupid blemishes, and I had gained a bit of weight all around.

  “Ridiculous, yes. Gorgeous, no.”

  “I beg to differ.” Mother pinched my cheek. “With those dashing blue-green eyes gleaming against your golden skin, and your lovely brown locks framing your pretty face, boys will be fighting over you the moment we arrive in Port Royal.”

  “I am taller than all the boys here in London, so I hope they are larger there in Port Royal.” I chuckled as I wove a green ribbon through my braid.

  “Well, you are of childbearing age now…I suppose you could marry yourself a man.” She tapped her chin as if she was debating the possibility.

  “A man? Oh good heavens, Mother. I am far from interested in men or marriage or even courtship, for that matter. I think I will hide with you and Sky until I am older and the boys my age finally grow taller than me.”

  “Don’t be silly, my dear. One day you will find the one who makes you change your mind. And as lovely as you are, you are going to have your choice of courtships. Back when Father and I used to like each other, we agreed that you should be able to choose your own husband, but who knows what he will have to say about that now that he has become so pompous.”

  “He is not pompous, Mother, he is just busy.” I defended the man who gave us the world. “You know, half the reason I am not interested in marriage is because of the way you two fight with each other. I love you both dearly, and the fact that two people as wonderful as you both are but cannot get along is quite discouraging to me.”

  She stared at me with her jaw agape.

  I tapped her chin to shut her mouth.

  “Don’t worry, I have not lost hope altogether. I just worry about it sometimes. But in my heart, I hope to find someone who loves me the way Mason loved Midnight.” I sighed. “Could you tell me another one of their stories before we set sail ourselves?”

  She fiddled with her box of ribbons, trying to look busy. “Oh, not now, Remington. I have too much on my mind to wander off into fantasy land.”

  I squinted at her. As far as I knew, she was always in fantasy land.

  Looking up from her senseless organizing, she said, “In fact, we should probably start on another fight lesson. I only have a few more days to make a warrior out of you.”

  Over the past year she had been teaching me how to fight. Apparently, there was a time when she had to be strong, and though she would not share the reasons why, the moves she had been teaching me had my imagination running wild. It was hard to think that she would have come up with these tactics on her own, but the few times I asked where she learned, she only said, sometimes you have to do shit you don’t want to do to survive.

  She was full of surprises and riddled with secrets, and any time I thought I was beginning to figure her out, she would shock me again.

  “Here. I got this for you.” She handed me a small dagger.

  “Oh? A knife?”

  “Not just any knife, but a bodice dagger. Look.” She showed me how the sheath tucked neatly into my bodice. “No one will ever know you are hiding this little beauty. And if you ever need to, you can sneak it out and stab someone in the neck.”

  Conjuring up a ghastly vision of Odelia lying dead in the alleyway with a slashed open neck, I gasped in horror. “I don’t ever want to stab anyone.”

  “I hope you never have to, but if the time ever arises, I would rather you be able to defend yourself. In a few short days we will be boarding a ship and heading across the sea. There is a great deal of danger out there and I want you to be ready for anything.”

  All this time I had been excited to sail, but the ser
ious look in her eyes when she taught me the importance of defending myself assured me that the world outside our walls was not a land of fantasy and fairytales. The sea was a dangerous place, swarming with dangerous people, and I was certainly thankful to have her here to teach me things that most women knew nothing about.

  “We are not defenseless damsels, Remington,” she told me as she tightened her fists and straightened her shoulders. “We are fighters, and with the blood you have running in your veins, I know that you will grow to be a stronger woman than I ever was or ever will be.”

  PART II

  The New World

  Caribbean Sea

  Summer of 1663

  Chapter 6

  The Good Kind of Heat

  Themonths at sea were nothing like I had hoped they would be. Sailing itself was better than I had imagined, but taking care of the seasick maid was simply not in my plans. My father had been busy socializing, leaving my mother with the chore of caring for Dinah, but of course, Mother had no interest in tending to the woman she insisted my father fancied. She can vomit out her slut guts and die for all I care, Mother said, and locked herself in her own room with her bird. So, I ended up with the chore.

  Regardless of what my mother thought of Dinah, I liked her, and it was rather worrisome watching her vomiting and heaving and fading in and out of various shades of green as the ship rolled over the tide. I had heard plenty of stories about people dying at sea. The terrible smells filling the halls and nasty little rats scampering around the timbers assured me that the stories were true. This poor little woman needed help, and though assisting her had robbed me of my own desires, I slept better at night knowing I did my best to care for her.

  My only joy came from staring out the porthole, where I watched the ocean tumble and roll under the warm rays of sunlight. The shades of aqua were ever changing, the sky was forever blue, and the clouds, oh, they moved across the open ocean so differently than they did ashore. My imagination followed them as they flowed, and among the sound of the creaking timbers and scent of the salty air, I dreamt of Mason and Midnight.