Five Sisters (A Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Leen Elle

  Poor Emy was too quiet to meet many new people, but she did make one new friend, the boy who had handed Nora her butter knife their first night aboard. His Christian name was Seymour, but most knew him by his surname, Sawyer.

  Charlie had offered to take him on because although he was rather small and weak and didn't have the build of most of the other sailors, Sawyer knew everything there was to know about ships as well as the ocean. Even though Charlie already had enough knowledge of such things, and didn't really need a secondhand man, he figured that it was nice to know if anything ever did happen to him he could count on Sawyer to take over and guide Violet safely to shore. The other sailors knew a lot about ships as well, but only the mechanical aspects, not the steering and the orientation.

  Sawyer was by far the most unattractive of all the sailors, with short, wavy flaxen hair, gray eyes that changed into tiny slits whenever he laughed, and very large, round, tortoise-shell glasses. He was only about five feet and six inches tall and weighed barely anything. He hadn't any muscles, since he usually didn't have to complete as much physical work as hard as the other sailors, and his face was covered in tiny brown freckles, as well as a few blemishes.

  He and Emy got along quite well, which suited both fine.

  Nine days into their journey, Nora had just finished a terrible fishing session with Zooey and was looking for Emy to see if she might perhaps like to play a game of cards when she saw Ben up ahead.

  Instantly backing up against the outside wall of Charlie's office so he wouldn't see her, Nora froze and tried to get a glimpse of Ben without him noticing. Ever since the first night she'd seen him she couldn't get him out of her head. It was terrible, she knew, to dream about him so constantly, but she couldn't help it.

  Normally, she wouldn't be so shy about it all and would have tried to get to know the man a little better. That way, she might actually have the chance to pursue something with him. But this time was different. Ben was just so amazing, in her eyes, that she thought she'd never have a chance with him and it would be useless to even try.

  But that didn't stop her from dreaming about it.

  Mary was leaning over the side of the boat, letting the wind blow through her dark ringlets and the smell of the saltwater reach her nose. After spending a few days on the ship, she'd become used to all the smells that come with the ocean. Although she still didn't enjoy them, she didn't cringe and scrunch up her nose at them anymore either.

  "Hello Mary," said a voice behind her.

  She turned around to see one of the very large, broad-shouldered McAdams brothers and returned, "Good afternoon, Noah."

  He smiled, "Would you like to see something beautiful?"

  Mary raised an eyebrow, "And what would that be?"

  He slipped an arm through hers and led her to Violet's bow at the front of the ship. Once they'd reached it he leaned over the railing and laughed, motioning for her to join him. She did so and found herself giggling as well as she saw a group of about five dolphins swimming alongside the ship, riding on the waves the bow created. They swam and jumped around like merry children.

  Mary finally found herself truly enjoying the voyage, a thing she thought was impossible.

  Emy sat on the floor cross-legged near the stern of the ship. Across from her was Sawyer, his glasses falling down his nose a bit as he tried to decide what to discard. They both held a hand of cards and were playing a friendly game of Gin Rummy.

  Nearby, Ben, Nicholas, Jacob, and Jess had out their fishing poles and were trying to catch something to eat for supper that night. Jess suddenly became very excited and reeled in his line quickly; Emy and Sawyer stopped to watch and see if he'd caught anything good.

  They waited a few moments before Ben began to laugh. Jess was reeling in a piece of driftwood covered in a bit of seaweed. The other sailors chuckled as well and went back to their work while Jess grinned and cleaned off his hook, throwing the driftwood and seaweed back into the ocean.

  Sawyer went back to the game and discarded, but Emy's eyes were suddenly distracted by something other than the sailors and their catch. She noticed Nora standing flat against the wall of Charlie's office, peering around the corner and gazing wistfully at Ben.

  Emy tapped her hand on the wood to catch Sawyer's attention and then motioned over to Nora.

  He smiled and leaned in, whispering, "I think your sister has become a bit enamored with Leslie."

  Emy drew and discarded, murmuring as she did so, "That's what I was thinking too."

  "I'm not surprised."

  "Me neither. It's not hard to see why."

  Sawyer nodded, looking once more from Nora to Ben, "It's a shame he never seems to notice her."

  "But he sure doesn't have any problem with Mary, does he?" whispered Emy.

  "And Mary doesn't really need any more admirers anyway," Sawyer added.

  Emy called out Nora's name, but it took a moment for Nora to get back to her senses. When she did, she walked over and took a seat between her sister and Sawyer. They offered to start a new game and Nora accepted the offer, although she was weary about sitting so close to Ben. Her hands were rather clammy and she kept fussing with her hair, hoping she looked all right.

  As Sawyer dealt out the cards, Emy leaned towards her sister and whispered, "I see you've got a bit of an infatuation started with him, haven't you?"

  Nora jumped and stammered, "Who . . . I . . . I don't have any idea who or what you're talking about."

  "Mr. Leslie, of course," Emy replied with a small smile, "You're mad about him, aren't you?"

  Nora shook her head, but grinned, "I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

  Sara set down her book, left Charlie's office, and was beginning to head to the bow of the ship when she got the sudden urge to look up instead.

  Charlie stood on top of the office. She could only see him from the shoulder up, but knew his hands must be on the steering wheel.

  She walked over to the ladder and began to climb up. When Charlie saw her she grinned, "I hope you don't mind."

  "'Course not."

  He wore a casual navy collared-shirt under a rather oversized brown blazer that didn't fit his thin frame very well: the shoulder seams came halfway down his upper arms. Although he'd been a sailor for at least twenty years, he'd never seemed to catch on to the dress code most of the other men swore by. While they wore dirty old shirts and sailors' hats so old they were falling apart, and walked around barefoot, Charlie never took off his shoes. And although his clothing choices were casual, they were almost always clean at least. He did wear a Captain's hat sometimes, but today it sat nearby on a wooden post.

  When one's higher up on a ship, the gusts of wind seem to gain strength. They blew Charlie's hair, a mix of light brown and silver strands, wildly around his face and into his eyes.

  Sara walked around the small area, looking down at her sisters and the sailors from above. It was easy to see why Charlie preferred this life to the business one his parents had wanted for him. One felt so free when they were out on the open sea that it was hard to imagine life on land again.

  "Would you like to try?" Charlie asked, tapping the steering wheel, "It's not so hard, really."

  Sara nodded and walked over, placing two hands on the wheel. Charlie showed her how to use to compasses on the side and she was soon a pro in no time at all.

  Gail, meanwhile, was downstairs, searching for a sweater. She was coming back up the stairs when Zooey appeared at the top of the stairs.

  "Do you mind grabbing my hat while you're down there?" he asked her.

  "Not a problem," Gail replied, "Where is it?"

  "Last bunk on the right."

  "Alright," said Gail, "I'll be right up."

  She turned to the right this time and opened the second door. The sailors' room was rather like theirs only it was larger. It didn't seem that way though since it was crammed with five more bunks than theirs and was filled with all the men's clothing and junk. They weren't
very tidy boys.

  Gail found Zooey's hat quite easily though and headed back out into the hall. She had a hand on the rail when suddenly a sound rather like a cough came from the room beside the sailors'. Charlie had told them that the room was used for storage, but when Gail heard several more coughs she knew he must have lied.

  Slowly, turned the brass knob and opened the door only a crack. She stared in for a moment, and gasped at what she saw.

  Inside there was a boy, a boy she'd never seen before, fast asleep in bed.

  CHAPTER 6

  Meeting Nahaniel West

  That evening, the girls were busy preparing supper in the kitchen when Charlie entered with a box of cans and preservatives.

  "Er . . . let's see," he said, peering inside, "We've got some peaches, green beans, pears . . . I suggest you try and spread these out a bit though and only use one or two each night, we've still got a long way to go."

  Mary nodded and pulled out two cans for that night's meal.

  Charlie had just turned to leave when Gail grabbed his arm. Curiosity had been building up inside her for hours, ever since she'd seen the mysterious, sleeping boy, but whenever she tried to get Charlie alone to ask about it someone else always seemed to be present.

  "Can I ask you something?" she whispered.

  "Of course. What is it?"

  Gail pulled him over to the corner of the room, out of earshot from her sisters, and murmured, "I was downstairs earlier, and I didn't mean to or anything, but I heard a cough coming from the room you told us was used for storage. There's a boy inside that room, Charlie! He didn't see me, for he was sleeping. But I . . . I thought we were the only ones on board- just us and the sailors. Who is he?"

  Charlie sighed, "I was wondering when one of you would find out. It didn't take long, I see." He paused, "Mary, Sara, Nora, Emy, you'd better come over here."

  They looked over curiously, set down their things and came over.

  "What's wrong?" asked Nora.

  "Nothing's wrong," Charlie assured, "I just . . . I lied to you. The room downstairs, beside the sailors', that isn't a storage room. That room belongs to a young man by the name of Nathaniel West."

  The girls gasped.

  "But how . . ." Mary began, "How could we not have known? A week's already passed. How could we not have seen him?"

  "Nathaniel . . . Well, Nathaniel isn't well. He's ill. Terribly ill. It's been this way since he was a child."

  "What's wrong with him?" questioned Sara, "I mean, what disease does he have?"

  "They don't know. He's been taken to hundreds of doctors, but no one can figure it out. He's a mystery."

  "Has he ever even been up on deck?" said Gail, "Is that why we've never seen him?"

  "Nathaniel couldn't go up on deck if he tried. Well, I suppose he could but it would be terribly painful and it would take hours if he tried to do it alone. He's bedridden. He's lived almost his entire life in bed."

  Gail shifted uncomfortably. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like for him.

  Charlie continued, "When he was a child they noticed something was wrong with him. He'd try to do the things normal children do- run, jump, play- but he'd only last around twenty minutes before fainting. He just couldn't take that much activity. As he grew older, he'd only last five minutes or so. That's when it was decided that he mustn't do such things anymore. His parents figured he must have some sort of strange disease, though they didn't know what it could possibly be. He had to lie in bed all day and all night, and he still does today. There are moments when he can barely move. He has continual coughing fits and often trembles and shakes like he's mad."

  "Why didn't you tell us he was down there?" Mary said, biting her lip, "We could've . . . I don't know. We could have tried to help."

  "Nathaniel doesn't really like visitors much," Charlie explained, "He's got an awful lot of pride and he doesn't like to be pitied, and he's been pitied his entire life. He's the one who sought me out, not his parents. His parents probably would have made sure he traveled in luxury with a doctor and fifty nurses by his side every hour of the day, but that's not what Nathaniel wanted. He wanted a quiet ride over to some hospital in Wickensville and I agreed to give that to him. I didn't tell you because I wanted to keep that promise."

  "Do the sailors know?" asked Nora.

  "They've all figured it out by now," Charlie nodded, "It's not surprising that they should figure it out faster than you girls did since they sleep in the room just beside his." Charlie chuckled, "Zooey ran into my room looking a fright on the very first night. He'd heard Nathaniel coughing like a madman at midnight, peeked in the supposedly empty room and saw a boy lying there. He ran into my room out of breath, asking if I'd known there was another boy on the ship."

  The girls giggled.

  Charlie gave a feeble smile, "I suppose we really shouldn't be laughing though, should we? One of his nurses came to see him off and she told me something rather frightening. She said that everyday she'd wake up wondering if she'd find Master West dead or alive. That's how uncertain his life is. He doesn't even know if he'll live to see tomorrow," Charlie looked to the floor, "It's a terrible thing. I'm sorry that anyone has to live their life that way."

  The girls were just finishing up supper and beginning to set the table when Gail noticed Charlie walk in with a tray and begin to prepare an extra meal.

  "Who's that tray for?" Gail asked, watching Charlie with a curious expression.

  "Nathaniel," Charlie said, glancing up for a moment before continuing to spoon stew into a bowl, "I've been taking him down his meals every day."

  He filled a cup with tea, cut off some bread, and filled a small plate with vegetables while Gail watched quietly.

  "I could take it down to him," she suggested suddenly, not wanting to wait a day longer before meeting the mysterious boy.

  "Oh, no, you don't have to do that."

  "But I want to, Charlie. Really," Gail assured earnestly, "You just eat your dinner and I'll take care of Nathaniel."

  Charlie shrugged and handed her the tray, "If you insist."

  Gail grinned and headed downstairs, making sure not to let any of the stew spill as she made her way down the rickety staircase. A lock of red hair fell into her eyes, but she didn't have a free hand to brush it away and let it be.

  Seeing that the door was already opened a crack already, Gail took advantage of the situation. She turned around and pushed her back into the door to open it, instead of removing a hand from the tray and risking an accident.

  The room was filled with that eerie, ominous smell associated with invalids. It was a mixture of strange medicines that were scattered around a bedside table as well as the disease filled body lying on the bed beside it. Every smell in the room was accentuated by the fact that a gust of fresh air hadn't blown through since the ship set sail. It was stuffy and confined, muggy and stagnant, thick and oppressive. One got the sense that by simply walking in they might catch some horrible disease or perhaps even suffocate from a lack of clean air. Gail could barely breathe and she got the feeling that the only reason Nathaniel could was because he'd been living in a room like this one every since he'd been born. He'd become immune to its heavy, stifling texture.

  As soon as Gail turned around a rather ignorant voice asked, "Who are you? And where's Charlie?"

  Gail faced a young man lying beneath a black and white hound's-tooth blanket as well as other various sheets and quilts. He wore a pair of standard blue pajamas and because his arms were crossed in front of him and he didn't appear to be involved in any other sort of activity, Gail suspected he'd been waiting for his meal to arrive and was a bit angry it was coming to him a little later than usual.

  His hair was a very light shade of brown. So light, in fact, that some may have classified it as a very dark blond. It was cut fairly short, but still found the length to stick up a bit on top from a lack of combing. His eyes were bright and gray- beautiful eyes that were so deep they reminde
d Gail of the ocean just outside his window. With rather thin lips and colorless cheeks, he bore the distinguished, yet notorious, face of an ailing man. The feature that caught Gail's eye most though, was his skin. Never before had she seen someone with skin as sickly pale as his. It was quite obvious he didn't spend much time outdoors, as Charlie had mentioned.

  And although Gail knew he was required to do because of his illness, she couldn't imagine how any child could live their entire life in a bed. She thought she'd rather die than sit in bed all day. The one week six years ago that she'd been bedridden with the chickenpox, Gail practically went insane trying to occupy herself.

  Realizing that Nathaniel had asked her a question and she was taking an awfully long time to answer, Gail replied quickly as she walked to his bedside.

  "Charlie's busy, so I offered to bring down your meal," she explained. Putting on her brightest smile, she added, "My name's Abigail St. James, but you can call me Gail. Everyone else does."

  Nathaniel scowled, "Who's to say I wish to call you anything?"

  "Er . . . no one, I just . . . I thought you wanted to know my name. You did ask who I was."

  "What sort of slop have you brought me today?"

  Gail frowned, "It's stew, bread, vegetables, and tea. But it's most certainly not slop! My sisters cooked this and it's quite delicious actually, so don't go judging something before you've even tasted it!"

  "I can judge something whenever I feel like judging it. And besides, if it's anything like the other food I've been given on this horrible ship, it most certainly is slop!"

  Gail's jaw dropped. She'd been expecting a sweet, unfortunate boy that she might perhaps feel some compassion for, but at the moment all she should feel for this contentious lad was anger.

  "You should be thankful you're given any food at t'all with that sort of attitude! Keep it up and you won't be getting this tray! Has your mother never taught you your manners? Have you no idea what decency is? When in the presence of a lady, you're supposed to act as a gentleman. Instead you're like a selfish, spoiled child! I shouldn't even give you this food if you're going to speak to me in such a degrading manner!"