Sea Mistress

by Candace McCarthy

  She clucked her tongue as she went to the desk. “Did you try the bottom drawer? I’m sure you put it in the bottom desk drawer.”

  Joel blushed. “No, I didn’t check there.”

  Kate pulled out the drawer and then handed Joel the key. “See, dear?” She rubbed his head with affection, running her fingers through his gray hair. “Honestly, love,” she scolded.

  Joel grinned and then met Seth’s surprised gaze. “Have you met my wife?”

  “Well, of course we’ve met, Joel. I let Seth in.” “We have’nt been formally introduced,” Seth said, liking the woman and her effect on his old friend. Why, Joel, you lucky devil. And you once a conformed bachelor!

  It was Joel’s turn to reprimand his wife gently, as he wanted to do the polite and proper thing. Seth learned that Kate Johnson was once Kate Blanchard, hence the name posted on the sign outside.

  “Where’s Matt?” Joel asked when the introductions were made and the proper comments expressed. The old sea captain’s face had softened as he mentioned this name.

  “I’ll get him,” Kate said. Then she nodded to Seth and left to do it.

  “Nice lady,” Seth said. “Joel, you lucky old sea dog!”

  “Aye, Seth. Indeed, I am. Marriage agrees with me, I think.”

  “Me, too.”

  Joel jerked with surprise, his face paling. “You married?”

  “Aye,” Seth said, wondering about his friend’s odd reaction to the news. “To Elisabeth Mary Metcalfe.”

  The older man blinked and then looked relieved. “Why, that’s wonderful!” He started to chuckle. “How? When?”

  “Coming over. In Brazil. You see, Bess came on board the Sea Mistress without my knowledge. I was angry at first.” He smiled at the memory. “Until I fell under her spell once again.”

  “I received a letter from her, so I knew she’d come, but never,” Joel said, sputtering in his glee, “—never did I dream that you and she would come together!’ ”

  Joel saw Seth’s confusion, and explained. “I wrote Bess and suggested she come out here. The opportunities for a merchant are limitless.” He inserted the key into the lock on the box. “She wrote back that she’d come. Edward was wise to give her the company. She’s a smart woman. He would have been proud of her.”

  “Edward?” Seth said. “Don’t you mean George?”

  “Who is George?”

  Seth felt a burning sensation in his stomach. “Did you say that Bess was the head of the E. Metcalfe Co.?”

  Joel frowned. “You mean you didn’t know?”

  The young captain shook his head. She lied to you. She was the one at E. Metcalfe to hire you on. But they were married now. Why hadn’t she told him the truth? What other deceptions is my wife guilty of?

  “I shouldn’t worry, boy,” Joel said. “She was probably saving it as a surprise for you. Or perhaps she wanted to see if you would marry her for herself and not for her wealth.”

  But Seth wasn’t satisfied. He was upset.

  Kate Johnson returned to the study then with a little boy. The child had blonde hair and looked to be about four years old.

  “Uncle Joeson,” the boy said as he crawled onto the old man’s lap, “you wanted me?”

  “Yes, Mattie. I want you to meet someone.”

  Uncle Joeson. Seth stared at the child, transfixed. Only one other person had called Joel Johnson by that name. The boy turned to regard Seth with curious blue eyes.

  Bess. He looks like Bess. Seth heard a roaring in his brain as his thoughts and suspicions spun in an emotional whirlwind. All he could see was that the boy before him looked like his wife. And had blue eyes like his own.

  From a great distance, he heard Joel’s voice. The word “father” broke through the haze clouding his mind, and he realized that the term had been spoken in connection with himself . . . and this child.

  Seth forced the remaining cobwebs from his head. “He’s mine.”

  Joel gazed at him with eyes that were bright with tears. “Aye, my boy, he’s a Garret all right.” He paused. “And a Metcalfe.”

  A trembling seized hold of Seth as he studied his son. “Mattie?” he said. “Matthew?”

  The boy grinned and climbed off Joel’s lap, moving onto his father’s. As he felt the weight of his son’s body, Seth knew with certainty that the boy was his, for it felt right. It felt right to have the child within his arms.

  A sudden commotion outside the room drew Joel’s attention. “Darn those brats, Johnny and Zach!” But it was said with affection and no real anger toward either boy.

  “Seth, I have to stop a fight before two of my young ones manage to kill each other.” He eyed the father and son, and was apparently relieved that the two seemed to be getting along. “I’ll explain when I come back.” He touched Matt’s head on his way toward the door. “Get to know your father, Matt. He’s a real live sea captain.” He left to stop the argument, his one wooden leg clunking against the floor.

  Mattie’s blue eyes gleamed. “Truly? A real captain?” He looked to his father for confirmation and was pleased when he found it.

  Seth’s throat was tight, but he managed to give his son a smile. “Yes, son. I’m a captain of a great ship. We call her the Sea Mistress.”

  The boy was beautiful, Seth mused. But what was he doing here?

  And then he couldn’t control his thoughts. Because he didn’t fit conveniently into Bess’s life. She gave him away because she didn’t care.

  Seth knew a burning rage within his breast. The need to confront his wife overpowered him, until he was forced to act.

  “Mattie,” he said, his voice gentle, “you and I are going to visit someone. But we’ll be back, so you don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid,” the boy said, his tone trusting. “You’re my father and you’re a captain, too. Captains are strong. Uncle Joeson said so.” Seth rose, holding his son, and headed toward the front door. He saw Maria on his way out. “Tell your mother I’ve taken Mattie, but I’ll be back.” He hoped that the girl understood and that she passed on the right message.

  Liar. Witch. What else have you done to hurt me, Bess? He put Matthew on the horse before he climbed up behind the child. Then, he kicked his mount into a gallop in the direction of town and the hotel.

  “Maria?” Joel hobbled out of the kitchen, having ended the argument between the two boys, and saw the girl standing at the open door, staring outside. “What are you doing?” His tone was gentle. “Why did you open the door?”

  “The man opened it,” she said. “The man and Mattie. They left, but they’ll be back.”

  Seth had left with Mattie? He rushed to his study and found the room empty. The box lay where he’d put it, unopened, with the key still in place.

  Joel snatched up the box, while shouting to his wife that he had to leave. “Oh, dear Lord,” he whispered. “He left without learning the truth. He’s angry with Bess. He wrongfully blames my da-niece!”

  The old sea captain knew he had to catch up with Seth, explain things, before Seth said something to his wife that he’d regret. The shock of seeing her child was going to be difficult enough for her. Joel was afraid what would happen if Seth accused her of giving the child up.

  They were at the Willard Hotel, Seth had said. And Joel was grateful he’d remembered that. “Please God,” he prayed as he swung his wooden leg over the saddle of his horse. “Let me find them quickly.”

  Bess was near tears when the door to her room burst open, and Seth entered, looking fierce.

  “Why, Bess? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Seth!” She rushed to greet him, glad to see him safe. She tried to hug him, but he pushed her away.

  “You were pregnant after I left.”

  She turned pale. “Who told you?”

  “Does it matter?” A pulse throbbed near his temple, his jaw was taut with anger.

  “I thought you knew at first.” She spun away. “I was going to tell you.”

&nb
sp; Seth grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him. “When?” he growled. “When we were old and gray?”

  “No! No, of course not.”

  “Liar!”

  She reeled back as if physically attacked. “You left me!” she cried. “I didn’t think you cared!”

  “My God,” he said with stunned disbelief. “So you felt justified in giving our baby away!”

  “Give our baby away?” she gasped. “What are you talking about? Our baby’s dead! Dead, damn you!” She began to sob, huge wracking wails of pain.

  Seth stared at her in shock. She couldn’t be acting, he thought. Her pain was too real. Which meant that she actually believed that her baby was dead!

  Moved by her sobs, Seth gathered her into his arms. “Lisabeth, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He began to kiss away her tears, from her face, her eyelids, her wet cheeks and lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I wanted him. God, how I wanted him, but when you didn’t come, I couldn’t eat.” She stopped to sob. “It was my fault that our baby died!”

  Startled, Seth grabbed her shoulders and held her away. “He’s not dead, Bess. Our baby’s alive.”

  She didn’t hear him at first and continued to cry.

  “Lisabeth, the boy is alive. Our baby is now a beautiful four-year-old boy! His name is Matt.”

  She froze and stared at him, her onyx eyes glistening with the remnants of her tears. “What are you saying?”

  Seth hesitated. He didn’t know what had happened, but he was beginning to have his suspicions that Edward Metcalfe was responsible. But to take a child away from its mother!

  “Seth?” Bess’s frightened voice made him realize that he was scowling angrily.

  His expression softened. “Come and sit down, love.” He sat her on the bed, and then left, promising to come back.

  Alive? Bess thought. Had she heard Seth correctly? Did he say that their baby was alive?

  Seth was back within moments, bringing with him a child. Bess stared at the boy, cradled against Seth’s side, and her heart raced as she saw his blond hair and the beautiful blue coloring of his eyes. Seth’s eyes, she thought. Her lungs tightened until she could barely breathe.

  “Mattie?” she said in a choked voice. “My baby?” She looked at Seth, and her husband nodded.

  “Matt,” Seth said, “this pretty lady is your mother.”

  The boy glanced up at his father. “She is?” At Seth’s nod, he transferred his attention back to Bess. “Uncle Joeson told me I would see my mother someday soon, but he never told me you were pretty.”

  Bess started to cry silent tears. Matt frowned and went to her, placing his small hand on her wet cheek. “Why are you crying?” he asked.

  “Because I thought you were dead, and I’m glad to see you.”

  “You’re crying because you’re happy?”

  She nodded. “May I hug you?” she asked, her hands slipping to the child’s waist.

  Matt thought for a second. “All right.” And Bess gathered him close, sobbing in earnest now, for her son was alive.

  She held him tightly, and he didn’t struggle, but patted her back to comfort her. Seth watched them, moved to tears. How could this have happened? He was sure that Edward was somehow responsible. And Joel, too? His anger became burning rage. He wouldn’t rest until he knew the truth.

  The door thundered with someone’s knock, and Joel’s cry filtered inside through the wood. “I believe I know someone who can explain everything,” Seth said, and he opened the door.

  Joel Johnson rushed inside and then stopped short at the sight of Bess clutching her son, her face moist with tears.

  “Da-niece,” he whispered. Her eyes widened as she saw him. She released her son and stood up.

  “Uncle Joeson!” Matt cried. “You didn’t have to come. The captain said he’d bring me back.”

  “The captain’s your father, Mattie,” the older man scolded gently.

  The boy grinned, unabashed. “I know. And my mother is here, too.” He suddenly frowned. “You didn’t tell me she was pretty.”

  Joel swallowed against a lump. “I thought I had, Matt. I thought I had.”

  “I think you have some explaining to do,” Seth said to his former captain.

  The man nodded. “May I sit down?”

  Seth inclined his head. And then he saw that Joel carried the mahogany box. “Edward’s box?” he asked with a sudden realization.

  “Aye, it’s Edward’s box . . . and papers.” The older man unlocked and opened the box. “Sit down, please,” he urged the couple, “and I’ll tell you about Edward’s secret.”

  Epilogue

  San Francisco 1855

  Bess had recently arrived home from the shop. Her body ached, and she was tired. The mercantile was a profitable business, and she was tremendously proud of her success.

  Reeves had stayed on after all. Age apparently didn’t matter to Rebecca, for she had married the older man and the two were happily raising Rebecca’s child.

  Seth had been angry at first upon learning that she had purposely deceived him about her ownership of the company, and the matter hadn’t gotten any better when she told him that she was also the owner of the ship’s shares.

  But they had come to terms. What they’d learned about the past had taught them well. Their love was precious and worth keeping at all costs. So much time had been wasted when they’d been apart. Both were sorry that the other had suffered needlessly.

  After much discussion, Seth had agreed to buy the shares in the Sea Mistress from Bess. He continued to sail her from San Francisco where he and his wife had decided to make their home. Bess had arranged for the house in Wilmington to be sold and her belongings transported to California. She’d kept the E. Metcalfe Co. Wilmington office open under the supervision of Peter Gooden, the employee who had been left in charge when she’d first sailed for California. With two offices, one on the east and one on the west coast, E. Metcalfe Co. was doing very well; the Garrets were comfortable.

  And Bess was excited. Seth was due back today, and she had missed him fiercely. She hated when he went to sea, for there was too much time to make up for. She wanted to spend every moment by his side, but she was wise enough to let him be what he was, a ship captain.

  She couldn’t really complain about his voyages, for he went to sea infrequently now. She would have gone with him if she could. But she knew she couldn’t handle the changing seas. She currently suffered from bouts of nausea. The voyage would be a nightmare for her.

  She’d been sick lately because she was pregnant, finally, after five years of marriage, and after giving up hope that she’d ever conceive again. When she’d told Seth the news, he’d been ecstatic, and his enthusiasm had spread to their son Matt. Nine-year-old Matt was looking forward to being a big brother. Matt was growing up quickly—too quickly, she thought. He was already old enough to accompany his father on the Sea Mistress. He was out with his father on this run.

  Bess went to Seth’s study. The room made her feel close to her husband when he was away. She loved looking at the book-lined shelves, his personal possessions, which stamped the room as belonging to him. She sat in his desk chair and picked up a toy boat that had the place of honor on the desk. The vessel had been a surprise for Seth, handcrafted by their son, with James Kelley’s help.

  Bess put the boat down and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her belly, loving the child it cradled. She was content with her life. But she hadn’t forgiven her uncle for all the horrible things he’d done, although she recognized that his actions had been meant to protect her—done out of love, though misguided.

  Her thoughts returned to the day she’d learned that Matt was alive. She still found it painful that her uncle had been the person responsible for the long, lonely years without Seth. The letter that Seth had received ending their relationship had been written by Edward, pretending to be Bess. He’d wanted to save her from what he thought was a terrible fate—
from marrying a penniless seaman. Seth Garret hadn’t been good enough for his niece.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, Edward had taken away her child and then lied to her about the baby’s death. All of this to protect her good name, she thought with sadness. She had suffered, and all because her uncle wanted to avoid scandal’s attaching to her name, the Metcalfe name.

  When Joel had told her the truth, she’d become as angry with him as with Uncle Edward. But she could forgive Uncle Joeson, for Joel had cared for Matt, taken him to his sister, a good woman who had loved the child. And when she died, Joel came for Matt. Joel had been torn between his loyalty to his friend and his love for a young girl.

  But Bess had loved her Uncle Edward, trusted him, and he’d betrayed her. Would she ever truly forgive him? she wondered. Edward had left her a letter, begging for her forgiveness, but she couldn’t forgive all the years of suffering, her years without the man she loved. The letter had been sealed in the box that Seth had delivered to Joel.

  Bess thought her uncle a coward and the worst kind of friend for involving Joel Johnson in his deceitful scheme.

  But perhaps after the baby was born, she’d feel differently about her uncle, about all the things he’d done . . .

  A door slammed at the front of the house, and Bess rose, her heart racing.

  “Bess?”

  “Seth!” She raced to the foyer.

  “Matt,” she heard her husband say as she burst into the front hall, “you would think we’d been gone for three months instead of three days.” But Seth gazed at her with longing and such love that Bess felt a lump form in her throat.

  Matt laughed, and the twinkle in his blue eyes was so like his father’s that Bess’s breath caught. “Hello, mother,” the boy said, coming forward to give her a hug.

  “Oh, Mattie, I missed you,” she said. “Did you have a good voyage?”

  “Matt, mother, please. I’m too old to be called Mattie anymore.”

  “Now, Matthew,” his father scolded.

  But Bess waved it aside. “You’re right. You’re no longer a baby.” Her throat felt tight, and she blinked back tears.