Amelia and the Captain

by Lori Copeland

“For what?”

  “My first real kiss. I was beginning to think I’d never get one. This adventure has been so perfect, I would have hated for it to end with a handshake.”

  “I kissed you. The time—”

  She placed her hand over his mouth. “But I started it. This one is most special.”

  His mouth lowered to take hers, long and sweet this time. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t know what to do about you, Amelia McDougal.”

  “I know, but I have every confidence you’ll think of something, Captain Kane.” She lowered his head for another kiss. They could talk later.

  * Henry T. Cheever, The Whale and His Captors (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1853), chapter 3.

  Eight

  Amelia presented the perch to Izzy, who promised to bake the catch for supper. Amelia felt a pang of disappointment. The convent nuns coated fish in cornmeal and fried the pieces in a deep iron skillet with simmering bacon grease, whereas Izzy simply doused the fillets with flour and baked them. Mahalia had fried fish one night, and they had been delicious.

  Early that evening Amelia gathered the women on deck. If the men aboard thought anything was amiss, they went about their work with occupied expressions.

  Elizabeth let it be known that she was attending the hastily called assembly to satisfy her curiosity, nothing more. The other women wore curious expressions.

  “I think Izzy, Niles, Henry, and Ryder are too old to be waiting on us,” Amelia began. “I know this is a late thought, but for the remainder of the journey, we need to take over the cooking and cleaning duties.”

  Bunny frowned. “The men’s duties?”

  “Not all of the men’s jobs. We know nothing about sailing a vessel, but we can help Izzy and Henry.”

  “I can clean,” Pilar offered. “I’ve always been good at cleaning.”

  “And I can sew,” Faith said. “I’m good at crocheting and knitting, things like that.”

  Amelia nodded, relieved that they were taking to the idea. The elderly should be respected, and Izzy and Henry had passed elderly and were headed for ancient. “I don’t know if there’s a need for crocheting or knitting, but we can ask.”

  “I can cook,” Mahalia offered hesitantly. “I can make fine hotcakes, light as thistledown, and there is no reason one of us can’t keep the boiler stoked.”

  “The boiler, of course. I’ve tasted your fish and it’s delicious. And hotcakes. That’s the spirit!”

  “I’ll do the wash,” Bunny said. “I always did the family wash before I was captured.”

  “Thank you, Bunny. Izzy will be ever so grateful.”

  The women had seen to their own needs, but the men didn’t appear to lift a finger when it came to washing and cooking. Extra hands would be welcome.

  Following the meeting, the women, with Amelia in the lead, marched to the wheelhouse to tell Captain Jean Louis of their plans. Elizabeth remained behind.

  “Assume Izzy’s workload? That’s mighty gracious of you, ladies.” Drawing on his pipe, he nodded approval. “She’ll be pleased as a peacock.”

  “Invade my galley?” Izzy sank to the nearest stool when Amelia told her their plan. The older woman wiped sweat from her brow with the hem of her apron. “How soon can you start?”

  Amelia brightened. “You don’t mind?”

  “Mind? Mercy, no! The sooner the better.”

  Henry, Niles, and Ryder reacted the same. Showing a mouthful of horse teeth, Henry said, “Girls, you’re a blessing sent from above! The boiler needs wood.”

  “Sorry we didn’t think of it earlier,” Amelia apologized. “But you’ll have a few days of doing nothing but what you choose.”

  Faith approached Henry with a shy smile and a gentle voice. “I’d be glad to take care of the boiler, Henry. I can also sew real nice, and tonight I’ll keep the boiler stoked so you can enjoy an uninterrupted night of sleep.”

  Henry’s smile broadened, and Amelia tried not to stare. He was such a good man. He couldn’t help that he had big teeth. “That’s kind of you, girl.” Henry hurried off to return with the most awful pile of sewing Amelia had ever seen. Izzy must not own a needle.

  Roles reversed. Mahalia assumed Izzy’s role in the galley. Faith repaired tears and sewed buttons on clothing while the others scrubbed the old vessel clean except for the crew quarters, which, after one look, Amelia declared hopeless and shut the door. Everyone aboard appeared happy with the new arrangements—except Elizabeth, who, it seemed, wouldn’t have been pleased if the good Lord had offered to appoint her His left hand.

  The Mississippi rolled peacefully along as the old boat slowly carried its unusual cargo to New Orleans. At times Amelia wondered if Austin Brown and his men were somewhere lurking around the next corner, but she was so busy with her new duties, she didn’t have the time to give the dreadful idea more than a fleeting consideration.

  For the second time, she and Morgan fished from the back of the boat in the late afternoon. It was, Amelia told the Lord most humbly, another one of the best days of her life.

  Before dropping off to sleep that night, she sat straight up from her bed nestled between two bunks with an even fresher idea. Outside a thunderstorm raged, rocking the old paddle wheeler like a fussy infant. Why not make the boat more…homey? The worn curtains were dirty and ugly, and the storm would delay them another day. Already she’d felt the boat anchor sometime after ten o’clock as gusty winds pitched the boat. That meant they had at least two more days before they reached their destination. Much could be accomplished in that time. New curtains. Fresh new hangings in the sleeping quarters. With every woman involved, the task could be accomplished in a matter of hours. Amelia reached over and shook Pilar awake and whispered her plan.

  Tonight’s roommates, Ria, Mahalia, Pilar, and Hester, immediately took to the idea. Elizabeth lay nearby, wearing a disagreeable frown.

  “We’ll start first thing in the morning,” Pilar said. “We can have new hangings completed by the time we reach New Orleans.”

  Amelia nodded. “A simple cotton print that could be taken down and washed would do a lot to brighten up the old boat. Lace trim around the hems would make a nice finishing touch. Nothing fancy, just something to make the curtains even prettier. Izzy deserves a few feminine touches around here.”

  Mahalia agreed. “We don’t have the funds for new material, but we could remake the old hangings. The trim could be our contribution to the boat, a little something of ourselves that will remain long after we’re gone. I have five cents I can contribute.”

  “I love to work with any kind of material,” Faith exclaimed. “Sewing is my special talent. I’ve never been good at cooking or homemaking, but when it comes to sewing, I’m more than capable.”

  “I have money.” Amelia shook her head. “How blind I was—but my eyes are fully opened now. Never again will I be prey to a man like Brown. My eyes have been opened to the world’s true evil. My sister Abigail would be completely right to mistrust and despise a man with a serpent’s tongue, but all men are not like Brown, thank You, God. Morgan, Jean Louis, Henry, Niles, Ryder—they are good men with good hearts. A woman should be proud to claim any one of these men as hers.”

  Sleepy agreements mixed with a clap of thunder.

  As the Mississippi Lady rocked back and forth in the storm, the women set their sights on a few yards of lace. The problem would be getting the men to stop long enough to make the purchase.

  “Until we reach New Orleans, the captain isn’t likely to stop for any reason except to take on wood. First town we come to, I’ll slip away and buy the lace,” Amelia decided. Her earlier promise to Morgan to obey struck her. “No. I can’t. I promised I would do as Morgan says, and that is to stay put.”

  Pilar’s expression turned thoughtful. “As nice as curtains would be, I think every one of us should cause the least trouble we can. Both captains are doing their best to save us from harm.”

  “And the next stop might not be a town,” Mahalia sai
d.

  Once their boat stopped midriver to buy wood from a farmer who’d piled it along the banks. And the women knew without being told that Captain Jean Louis and Morgan would both think it far too hazardous to voluntarily stop to buy something as frivolous as lace. Austin Brown was likely not far behind by now, and neither captain would consider taking unnecessary risks with the women’s safety.

  “Perhaps Captain Jean Louis can be persuaded to make a brief stop,” Faith reasoned. “It wouldn’t take long to buy a few yards of lace.”

  “The windows are fine the way they are.” Elizabeth rolled to her side and pulled a blanket over her head. “The men will spit nails if you put curtains up on this boat.”

  “Both captains have taken unnecessary risks to help, so it only seems right that we do something to repay them,” Auria ventured.

  “I agree,” Bunny spoke up. “I don’t have any one special talent, but I would like to do something to show my gratitude. We could be on our way to New Orleans as purchased women.”

  “Then we are of like mind.” Amelia shot Elizabeth’s covered head a you’d-better-not-throw-a-kink-in-the-plan look. “If Faith wants to put lace on the curtains, she can. Okay, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth clutched the pillow tighter.

  “Maybe we can speak to Jean Louis alone. Surely one small stop isn’t so frivolous,” Faith reasoned. “If the captain says no, then the matter is settled. We do as the men say.”

  “Now the big question. Who will ask for permission to buy the lace?” Auria asked.

  “I’ll ask him.” Amelia didn’t mind. A simple question wouldn’t break her promise to Morgan to stay out of trouble. If lacey curtains helped to repay Jean Louis for his kindness, then she was happy to be their appointed spokeswoman.

  When Amelia told him the plan, Captain Jean Louis didn’t like the idea any better than Elizabeth did. “I don’t think that’s wise,” he said. “Besides, we have enough wood to reach our destination. The added weight would only slow us down.”

  “Buying lace wouldn’t take long,” she reasoned, “and it would make Faith feel good. Each of us would like to repay you for your help.”

  “You ladies are not expected to contribute anything,” the captain said. “Prayers are the exception. This little escapade is far from over, Miss McDougal…” A grin began to spread slowly across his features. “Have you mentioned the curtains to Morgan?”

  Amelia sighed as she glanced to the port side, peering back between the paddles of the big wheel. “I haven’t said anything to him yet.”

  “Lacey curtains.” The captain’s grin widened, and Amelia was tempted to think Jean Louis found the request humorous. “On second thought, it wouldn’t hurt to take on wood. Wouldn’t want to run low, not when we’re so near our destination. We’ll make a brief stop early in the morning, and one of you can purchase the lace as long as you do so quickly. If you dally, I’m afraid I will have to leave without you. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir! And thank you! The girls will be so pleased.” She was tempted to give him a hug but changed her mind. The action would be entirely too personal. “I’ll tell the others.”

  “Amelia?”

  She turned. “Yes?”

  “Don’t mention the lace to Morgan. He’s a bit stuffy about staying on track. We’ll keep this a secret between us.”

  “I understand. I won’t say a word.”

  “Good.” He fished in his pocket. “Let me contribute to the gesture.” He removed a bill from his wallet and handed her the money. “Buy something bright and sunny. I’m looking forward to seeing my good friend’s face when you present the surprise.” His grin turned to pure scalawag.

  Amelia noticed the change and wondered what the captain found so amusing about a bit of lace, but at least he was on board with the plan. That’s all she cared about.

  Amelia had been designated to distract Morgan while Pilar purchased the lace. The paddle wheeler docked shortly after breakfast to take on wood, and the women flew into action. Not fifteen minutes later, Morgan led Amelia inside the small galley, motioning for her to sit down.

  “What’s wrong?” Izzy glanced up from the rocker she was sitting in. The boat’s old tomcat was curled around her feet, purring loudly. Mahalia bustled around the small galley storing breakfast pots.

  “Miss McDougal seems to be in dire need of something constructive to occupy her time today.”

  Amelia glared. “I thought of something worthwhile to occupy my time.”

  “Teaching the women to play poker is hardly constructive, Amelia.”

  She shrugged. “They wanted to learn.” She could tell him that it was her job to distract him, and she knew the ploy would certainly catch his attention.

  “I think your time is better spent with Izzy this morning.”

  “But that’s Mahalia’s job—”

  “Sit.”

  “Where’s Mahalia?” Amelia winced when Mahalia suddenly appeared in the galley doorway with a heaping pan of potatoes and set them in her lap. Outside the porthole, sounds of men loading wood aboard the paddle wheeler drifted to her. Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. She had prayed long and hard that the simple purchase would take place without incident. Pilar drew the short straw, so she would make the purchase. She wouldn’t do anything to risk anyone’s safety.

  Amelia reached for a paring knife. “How many do I have to peel?”

  Mahalia grinned. “Every last one of them.”

  While Amelia distracted Morgan, Pilar had left the boat for a few minutes to buy lace. Amelia’s insides squirmed with apprehension as she focused on the long spirals of potato peels curling around the knife and dangling in front of the dozing cat’s nose.

  Chicken simmered on the stove, bread was baking in the oven, and it appeared that Izzy had dozed off in her chair. Mahalia glanced up. “You really wantin’ something else to do?”

  Amelia sighed again. “I need something to take my mind off of Pilar.” The girl was most dependable, but if any small distraction slowed her return, the boat would leave without her. One thing Amelia had learned about Jean Louis—the man kept his word.

  Izzy stirred and opened her eyes. “Can’t think of a thing. Mahalia has meat simmering. Bread baking. I don’t know what to do with my hands now that you girls are in charge of the galley.” Blinking sleep out of her eyes, the old woman said, “Instead of keeping me company, why don’t you go up and see if you can’t carry on a conversation with Morgan without sparks flying?”

  “No, thank you, Izzy. He just dumped me here to get me out of his hair.”

  Izzy chuckled. “And a mighty attractive head of hair it is. Seems like you’re missing a good chance to catch the captain’s eye. Seems a nice man like Morgan might need a little female nudge, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, but as much as I wish it were true, I don’t feel he returns my affection. Not really.”

  “Well.” Izzy grunted and pushed to her feet. “All I know is he’d be a fine catch for someone. Jean Louis says the young captain needs a wife to settle him down.”

  “I would welcome the opportunity, but Morgan falling deeply in love with me won’t happen.” Even voicing the thought gave her shivers.

  Izzy washed the potatoes, poured fresh water in the pan, and set them on the stove to boil. Mahalia shooed her off with a dish towel. “Git! Git out of my way, girl. Get some fresh air. Take a nap. Spend some time with Henry. I’m in charge for the time being.”

  “Mahalia?” Amelia glanced around the galley, looking for the usual pies cooling on the shelf. None were present this morning. “Didn’t you make pies earlier?”

  Izzy spoke up. “Told her not to. Jean Louis is still complaining that he’s gaining weight like a prize hog.” She reached into the wood box and got a few more sticks to throw into the stove. Mahalia flipped the towel in her direction. “Git.”

  Amelia sighed. “No dessert?”

  “Not today.” Izzy straightened, clutching the s
mall of her back. She glared at Mahalia.

  “I’m going!” Shortly after, the galley screen door slapped shut.

  Sliding off the counter, Amelia moseyed around, peering into cabinets and cubbyholes. A frown formed around the corners of Mahalia’s mouth. “Looking for something?”

  “No.” Amelia opened a jar of peaches and ate a piece. “Is it hard to bake a cake?”

  “Nothing hard about it. You never baked a cake?”

  “Just thinking out loud.” She dug out another peach half, tilted her head back, and let the juice drizzle down her throat. She was trying her best to tolerate these things.

  “Didn’t you get enough to eat at breakfast?”

  Amelia glanced up. “Plenty. Why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  Moving to the oven, Amelia checked on the loaves of baking bread. She fumbled for two large hot pads and then removed six crisp loaves from the oven and set them out to cool. The bread smelled so good, she pinched off a bite of the thick brown crust and popped it into her mouth. It was so tasty, she pinched off another bite and chewed it thoughtfully.

  “Mahalia, is it really true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

  “How would I know? Never known a man.” Sorrow filled her eyes when the young black girl met her gaze. Elizabeth’s earlier taunts about Mahalia came back to haunt Amelia. Ask her. She tried to escape, and they caught her. Ask her what they did.

  “Oh, I am so sorry, Mahalia.”

  The young girl with soft brown eyes straightened. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to the rain barrel and wash up. Can you keep an eye on the chicken?”

  “I’d be happy to. Take all the time you need.”

  Mahalia left, and Amelia turned to study the small work area. Cooking seemed an odd way to deepen Morgan’s attraction—if there was one. Since she couldn’t hold a candle to Elizabeth in the worldly department, perhaps a nice, tasty sweet would be an effective weapon.