Angels, Sinners and Madmen

by Cate Masters

“And you to hers,” Sam reminded him.

  Liam ignored his taunt. “A warm body to lie beside, her soft whispers lulling me to sleep.”

  “Or keeping you awake.” Annie had complained of Millie’s snores after a night of hard drinking. Likely not as loud as Liam’s, yet he doubted their chorus would be less than harmonious.

  Liam continued, “Someone to make me smile.”

  “And cry.” He wondered if Millie would be able to curtail her flirting after exchanging vows.

  Liam slammed his glass to the table. “Dammit, man. Enough arguing. Ye know I’m right.”

  “I know.”

  His friend froze; his eyes wide. “What? Ye do?”

  Sam inhaled a fortifying breath. “Yes.”

  “Then go tell her, ye fool.”

  “I intend to.”

  “Good man.” Giving a long, satisfied exhale, Liam sat back. “For the first time in a long time, Sam, I’m looking forward to the days ahead.”

  The events of the last week left Sam unsure of which direction to proceed. The past held only heartache, a pain he did not want to repeat in the future. Try as he might to imagine Livvie inflicting such pain on him, he couldn’t.

  * * * *

  After their meal, Sam strode to the warehouse and looked at the posting. Under the large, handscripted heading proclaiming: Black List, to whom no Wrecking License will be issued, with reason of forfeiture.

  Beneath, Lewis Pinder’s name appeared.

  The sense of justice Sam expected lasted only a short while. Wrecking was a cruel enough business, and to add to another’s hardship brought no satisfaction. If any others committed minor infractions against the law, he wouldn’t be the one to bring it to light.

  Sam’s declaration to Liam came back to him. He should see Livvie. Today. Now.

  He walked to Duval Street, within sight of the boarding house. His gut lurched at the thought of approaching Livvie, asking her to stay on in Key West. His veins iced, and he stood unable to move, chilled in the midday sun.

  The ship that would carry her away hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe he needed to think on it a bit more.

  He turned and made his way to the dock to busy himself aboard The Florida. By the time he walked home, the moon sailed high in the sky.

  * * * *

  Sunlight poured through the windows, overheating the front room. From lack of concentration as much as the humidity, Livvie’s fingers slipped along the piano keys. Why hadn’t Sam called on her? Several times, she’d walked through town, hoping for a chance meeting. Yesterday, she thought she’d caught sight of him down the street from the boarding house. When she ran downstairs, no one was there.

  At the bang of the back door, Mrs. Crowell looked up from her needlework. “Had the mail arrived, Florie?”

  The housekeeper’s cheerful voice echoed down the hall. “Yes ma’am.” Her lumbering footsteps approached, and she handed Mrs. Crowell a bundle of letters.

  Sorting through the stack, Mrs. Crowell lifted an envelope. “Oh, here’s one for you, Olivia.”

  “For me?” The seal on the back caught her eye. Wendell. No mistaking his handwriting. Strolling out onto the porch, she ripped it open and scanned through. Startled to hear of the ship’s disastrous end, glad her health was intact…. Looking forward to her arrival…. Her passage secured on The Excellent, arriving at the end of the month…. Marianne already planning many festivities.

  “Festivities. I’m sure.” The words ‘end of the month’ caught her gaze. He’d mailed the letter weeks ago. Clutching the porch rail, dread filled her. “So the ship will be here soon.” Sam, where are you?

  * * * *

  The sound of thudding footsteps woke Sam from sleep. He rose and went to the window. Faint light rimmed the horizon. Too early for their usual patrol of the reefs. Two men ran through the street toward the wharf.

  It could only mean one thing. A wreck. Though the day had been fair, ships caught on the reef in all types of weather.

  He hurriedly stepped into his pants and laced his boots.

  Outside, Liam called, “Out of bed, ye lazy bugger. We’ve work to do.”

  Sam grabbed his shirt and punched his arms through the sleeves. “So I heard.” He pulled open the door. “Let’s go.”

  He jogged past Liam, laughing. The older man sprinted alongside, and the two raced to the wharf. The Florida drifted from the dock and cast off. Yelling, Sam and Liam leapt onto its deck.

  Jahner climbed up topside. “Glad you boys could join us this morning. Haul up anchor.”

  Homer drew up the chain and secured it. Sam pushed at the dock post. Jahner steered the schooner toward the wreck. The crew soon had the sails in place.

  Sam strained to see in the half-light. “The ship’s grounded on the reef?” Another wrecking schooner floated near it, and a second on the way. Captain Howe would not be Wrecking Master of this job.

  Captain Howe stood at his side. “Appears to be, though the damage may be minimal.”

  Liam leaned on the rail. “So it’ll be an easy job.”

  “If it’s a job at all,” Sam added.

  The captain’s tone conveyed his weariness. “Aye, we’ve had our share of stubborn captains this year.”

  The Florida came to rest behind The Brilliant. Captain Bethel had already boarded the grounded vessel. The two men stood together, and the sun crept above the sea in a blinding blaze.

  “Wonder how long they’ve been at it.” Liam’s mouth angled in deep concentration.

  “I’ll wager the captain sends him off.”

  Liam turned toward him. “What do ye wager?”

  Sam smiled. “A bottle of rum.”

  Liam smacked Sam’s back. “So be it. One bottle of rum will soon be mine. Ye know my favorite brand, I hope.”

  “I’m familiar with it.” All too familiar. Sam had sworn off it after the last time. Beer would suffice.

  “The Brilliant found the ship?” Homer leaned on the rail beside Liam.

  “’Twould appear so. Must’ve left early this morning on their rounds.”

  “Maybe someone caught sight of the ship yesterday and waited for it.”

  “Could be. I’m not surprised they kept it to themselves.”

  The wrecking captain climbed from the ropes onto the waiting boat below. The crew gathered around him, listened for a minute, and slowly dispersed. The schooner sat idle. Its men busied themselves tying knots and other mindless ways of passing time.

  Sam straightened. “Ah ha!”

  Liam spat over the side of the rail. “Aye, don’t rub it in.”

  Sam grasped his shoulder. “I’ll share it with you, my friend. With everyone.”

  “No, not everyone. It’ll do no one any good, at most a shot apiece. Between two of us, a bottle’s enough to drown our sorrows.”

  “What sorrows?”

  “The sorrow of sitting useless while we could be making money.”

  Sam picked up a strand of rope. “We’ll have to find useful endeavors to fill our time. The deck could use a good swabbing, if you’re bored.”

  “I’ll give ye a good swabbing, if ye’re not careful.”

  Sam chuckled. “The captain will soon come to his senses.” He couldn’t help but wonder how long it might take. Sam had no wish to be stranded for days on the schooner, away from shore. Livvie’s ship could arrive, take her away, and he’d have had no chance to see her. To talk to her.

  Three more schooners arrived to await the signal. A crewman on the grounded vessel waved a white cloth in the air. Every man stopped to watch Captain Bethel return to the ship to speak to the captain again. He returned to his schooner in a measured pace. A Brilliant crewman shouted, “Passengers going ashore.”

  Captain Howe awaited the signal. The Brilliant crewman signaled another schooner.

  The crew watched the wrecker skim easily over the reef, pulling alongside the ship. The passengers climbed down to it. The schooner eased away from the wreck, and then headed for shore.


  In the hours that passed, another tall ship sailed into view. The men swept and scrubbed The Florida while the tall ship set anchor farther out. Its crew lowered a smaller boat to the sea, and then rowed toward Key West.

  Tying knots, Liam glanced at Sam. “The Excellent.”

  Sam’s stomach knotted tighter than his nautical rope. “Most likely.” Was he doomed to watch Livvie leave while he remained stranded on The Florida?

  Liam pushed up his sleeves. “Should stay anchored a few days to restock supplies.”

  “Maybe.” A man of action, Sam didn’t want to conjecture.

  Hours passed. The wait worsened. No more tidying or tasks could be done on the schooner. Sam leaned beside Liam against the rail, the two ships in plain view.

  Liam gazed out to sea. “I heard Lewis Pinder set off for Key Vaca. Took all his baubles too. Adam Stroh came across his camp site. Pinder greeted him with a shotgun pellet.”

  Sam’s jaw gaped. “Pinder shot him?”

  “Tried to. Told Stroh to turn around, go home if he wanted to live another day.”

  “The bastard.” Talking of him made Sam want to spit.

  “He’s lost his mind,” Liam said matter-of-factly. “All his conniving. For what? To be blacklisted. It drove him mad.”

  A madness Sam had brought down upon him. But no, each man made his own choices. The judge blacklisted Pinder due to his own bad choices, not Sam’s. Pinder had to face his consequences, while Sam had to follow his conscience.

  Sam said no more.

  Liam turned toward the men. “Perhaps if we sing the Wrecker’s Song, it’ll bring us luck.”

  “Or at least ease our boredom,” Homer said.

  Jahner began the tune, his clear baritone echoing through the air. Liam sang in harmony. By the end of the first verse, all had joined in. From the other schooners, the crews’ voices rose in concert, the lively tune echoing across the span of ocean.

  Come all ye good people one and all,

  Come listen to my song;

  A few remarks I have to make,

  It won't be very long;

  T'is of our vessel, stout and good,

  As ever yet was built of wood;

  Among the reefs where the breakers roar,

  The wreckers on the Florida shore!

  Key Tavernier's our rendezvous,

  At anchor there we lie;

  And see the vessels in the Gulf

  Carelessly passing by;

  When night comes on we dance and sing,

  Whilst the currents some vessel is floating in;

  When daylight comes, a ship's on shore,

  Among the rocks where the breakers roar.

  When daylight dawns we are under weigh, [sic]

  And every sail is set;

  And if the wind, it should prove light,

  Why then our sails we wet;

  To gain her first each eager strives,

  To save the cargo and the peoples' lives;

  Amongst the rocks where the breakers roar,

  The wreckers on the Florida shore.

  When we get 'longside, we find she's bilged,

  We know well what to do;

  Save the cargo that we can,

  The sails and rigging too;

  Then down to Key West we soon will go,

  When quickly our salvage we shall know;

  When everything it is fairly sold,

  Our money down to us it is told.

  Then one week's cruise we'll have on shore,

  But we do sail again,

  And drink success to the sailor lads,

  That are plowing of the main;

  And when you are passing by this way,

  On Florida reef should you chance to stray,

  Why, we will come to you on the shore,

  Amongst the rocks where the breakers roar.

  The last refrain rang out over the water from all boats, and stillness fell across the waves.

  Captain Howe took hold of the idle wheel. “We may be here a long while, men. Vernon, prepare some supper.”

  Vernon popped his head up from below. “Aye, captain. I have venison stew simmering. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  Sam stood and stretched. “Venison. Who went hunting and didn’t invite us?”

  Homer glanced up. “We went the other day. We put the word out. You must not have been in your cabin.”

  Likely not. Sam was not one to sit in his cabin doing nothing. He should have been with Livvie. Damn fool that he was, he’d let time slip away and now he was stuck on The Florida, for who knew how long. He looked back toward shore, wondering what she was doing at this moment.

  After a while, clanging rang from below. “Stew!” Cook cried out.

  The men filed into a line, descending one by one.

  “Hot stew on a hot day. He tries to boil us, I sometimes think.”

  “Don’t take all the meat and leave only broth for us.”

  “You know Vernon allows no one else to touch the ladle. If you’re given only broth, it’s because Vernon wants to punish you.”

  Sam ignored the bickering, brought on by boredom. He filed in behind Liam. “How much longer do you think the wreck’s captain will hold out?”

  Liam stroked his chin. “Depends on how stubborn he is.”

  “He has to know the situation won’t correct itself. He doesn’t appear to be doing anything about it.”

  Liam aimed an ingratiating smile at Vernon, who filled his bowl with more broth than substance. “Unless the crew is below, moving cargo to the rear in hopes it will ease the pressure.”

  Sam took the tin bowl Vernon offered, watching the cook ladle the stew. “He risks damaging the hull if the waves continue to push the ship onto the reef.”

  Liam squeezed slices of bread, selecting two. “I’m sure he’s been warned, boy. We can’t force our aid on him.”

  Although arguing wouldn’t solve the problem, Sam couldn’t stop himself. “His situation can only worsen. Does he have no sense?”

  “We can’t force good sense upon him, either.” Liam climbed the stairs to the top.

  Sam grabbed two pieces of bread and went topside. He slid down the side of the boat and ate. Even dipped in the stew, the bread crunched in his teeth.

  Liam frowned. “Vernon baked his loaves too long again.”

  “I heard you.” Vernon’s voice carried up from below. “If y’all don’t like it, don’t take two slices next time.”

  Sam winced as he ate. Vernon always listened for the crew’s reaction to the meal. No one would tell him to his face it tasted awful. To do so risked retribution.

  Liam rolled his eyes. “I can’t very well starve, now, can I?”

  The grumbled response rose, too muffled to decipher. Sam stifled a laugh.

  The afternoon wore on, and Sam’s small store of good spirits faded. While boredom normally didn’t afflict him, his frustration mounted as minutes passed. He could be on shore, doing something useful. Helping Livvie pack. She intended to leave, so he wouldn’t stop her. The sooner she was gone from his life, the better off he would be. Since he’d rescued her, he hadn’t been himself. He knew better than to think he could make any woman happy for long. Livvie deserved better than him. A man who could give her a fine house, jewelry. All the niceties for which women longed.

  His frustration burst from him without thought. “Captain, are we to sit here all day doing nothing?”

  The captain swung toward him. “Have you business elsewhere, Mr. Langhorne?”

  Liam interrupted. “Business of a personal nature, eh, Sam?”

  Jahner snorted. “I saw him with that girl. Miss Collins. She’s a pretty thing, Sam. She’ll leave you high and dry.”

  The jests continued, and Sam’s anger flared.

  “She bats her eyelashes, and he follows her like a hound dog,” Jahner said.

  “We know what the hound dog is sniffing for,” another said.

  Liam chuckled. “Oh, I believe Sam’s d
one more than sniff, haven’t ye, Sam?”

  Sam whirled to his friend. “Shut your trap, old man.”

  Liam’s head jerked back. He bowed. “Why, yes sir, Mr. Langhorne.”

  Frustration strangled Sam’s response. He hadn’t meant to snap. Hours of worry had mounted until Sam felt ready to jump from the boat and swim back to shore.

  The tension broke when Jahner pointed to the grounded ship. “A flag. They’re signaling for help.”

  Captain Bethel of The Brilliant climbed aboard the vessel again to speak to its captain.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Homer asked.

  Captain Howe watched the ship with an unwavering gaze. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  As Captain Bethel returned this time, he moved hastily. He spoke to his men, and they each whirled into motion. A bell sounded on The Brilliant, signaling the end of the wait.

  Liam winced. “It’ll be sundown soon.”

  Jahner groaned. “Why couldn’t he have waited until morning?”

  A crewman on The Brilliant cupped his hands to his mouth and called, “She’s ruptured her side. She’s taking on water fast.”

  Captain Howe strode to the rail of the upper deck. “All right, men. Let’s get to work. Two by two, into the hold and hook the first cargo you find.”

  Sam had noted the shallower waters. All the men would take their turns diving, and the others would stay behind to haul up crates from below.

  Jahner said, “And it could have been such easy work. Now we’ll have to dive.”

  The crew set to their duties.

  Liam busied himself readying the grappling hook.

  Sam stepped near. “Need any help?”

  “No.” He finished his task without meeting Sam’s gaze.

  Regret washed over Sam as he backed away. There had been no call to lash out at Liam. The sun had gotten to him. The interminable wait. His own inability to make up his mind.

  He’d make it up to his friend later.

  “What’s the cargo?” Sam asked the captain.

  “Cotton. A shipment of rum.”

  Liam glanced up and grinned. “I know which I’m going after.”

  The crew’s laughter burbled.

  Homer’s smile filled his face. “Not if I get there first.”

  Sam checked the line. “Why don’t you let me go instead?”