Mason walked toward the lamp-lit parlor. His mother sat alone reading Harper’s Bazaar so intently that she did not see him enter the room.
Clearing his throat, he secured her attention. “Mother, do you have a moment to speak with me?”
Her eyes were red and swollen, and he surmised she had wept all afternoon over their argument.
“Yes, I do. Are you here to collect your belongings?” she asked, her lips quivering.
He strode over to her side and knelt by her chair. “Perhaps I am, but I believe we need to settle things between us first.”
His mother burst into tears, but he elected not to comfort her. She usually resorted to such means to make sure she obtained sympathy.
“When you are in control of your emotions, we will talk,” he said.
A moment later she looked at him through watery eyes and nodded.
“In order for you and I to maintain a civil relationship, you must apologize to Jule and refrain from ever insulting her again.”
“But—”
“You are a good Christian woman and know how to treat others accordingly. Nothing you can say or do will stop me from marrying Jule, and if you would only try to be friends with her, you would love her as I do. I am sorry for upsetting you today, but the quarrel has brought about a long overdue stand on my part. Jule will be my wife with or without your blessing, but I prefer your blessing. I know she has not grown up in our social group, and I believe you are against our marriage for those reasons and because of your love for me.”
Silence filled the room. The grandfather clock struck nine times.
“What will it be, Mother? I can remain here in this house until my ship sails, or I can leave.”
“I wanted a woman from our kind.” His mother sobbed.
“God chose for me the best,” Mason stated, with no intention of wavering. “Jule wants to learn about fashion, design, and those other things important to you. Mother, you can be her instructor or her enemy. It is up to you.”
“And you will not relinquish your pledge to marry her?” his mother asked with one last desperate breath.
“Absolutely not. If all of this centered around Jule’s character or that she did not follow sound Christian principles, then I would have to abide by your wishes. But this is not the case.”
She sighed deeply and dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Very well. I give my word I will treat her as my own daughter.”
“Good,” Mason replied. “Then I will expect you to accompany me tomorrow afternoon to Bolivar Point, where you can formally offer your apologies.”
His mother stiffened, yet she did not protest.
Mason touched her arm. “These are my terms,” he stated. “It is about time you met her parents. Fine people, I may add.”
She quietly acquiesced to her son’s requests.
“There you are,” his father called from the archway separating the library from the parlor. “Have you two settled your differences?”
Mason wondered how long the captain had been listening. “Yes, Father, we have.”
“Wonderful. Now, I have news for you. Plans have changed for your voyage to Liverpool. You will set sail day after tomorrow.”
Chapter 4
What is the urgency?” Mason asked. The painful issues of the day did not need one more intrusion. He’d rather have battled gale winds amidst a thunderstorm than his father.
“The buyer wired me and needs the goods,” the captain replied simply. “Didn’t think you would mind. In fact, you could get back quicker and possibly advance your wedding plans.”
Mason raised a brow. “Is this a bribe?”
“Possibly,” his father said, resting his arm across the fireplace mantel.
Mason swallowed his irritation, sensing a real need to talk to his father about his future. He might as well get it over and done with.
“Can we step into your study? I’d like to discuss a matter with you.”
The captain nodded, and they made their way to the mahoganypaneled room encased with bookshelves. The anchor and ship’s wheel from the captain’s last sailing vessel stood polished and noble in front of a solitary window.
His father lit a kerosene lamp and settled back in his stuffed leather chair. Mason settled into an armchair across from the desk.
“So what is on your mind?” his father asked.
Mason stared straight into the captain’s blue-gray eyes. “Father, you know I have always appreciated what you’ve done for me. You allowed me to sail with you from the moment I could nearly reach your shoulders. You taught me everything I know about the sea—sailing, how to command the respect of the crew, and business sense. Without your wise counsel, I’m sure I would have sunk many a ship into the ocean depths.” He paused and contemplated his next words.
“Thank you. It’s a good feeling to know I have done well with you,” his father answered.
Mason noticed his fingers were digging against the palms of his hands. Releasing them, he attempted to relax. “Your insistence that I challenge the world and learn from my mistakes has led me to an important decision.” He moistened his dry lips. “For many years now, I have dreamed of building seaworthy ships. I’m particularly fond of windjammers—how they are constructed…the type of wood used and the craftsmanship involve. I have found a location where I could build them, and I have the financial assets necessary to venture into this endeavor.”
His father rested his head on his forefinger and thumb and studied him. “What about the family business?”
Mason’s stomach did a little flip. “Let me first say how much I value the hard work you have done and the fact that you desire me to step into a major role in your business, but at this time I want to proceed with my shipbuilding plans.”
The captain took a deep breath and stared at Mason—a sign that he was absorbed in thought.
“Are you going to do this with or without my blessing, but you prefer my approval?” his father asked after several long moments.
Mason sighed. So he had been listening at the door. “Yes sir.”
“Well, I guess I’m the one at fault here. I’m the one who taught you the value of claiming a chunk of the world for yourself. I demanded you learn the sea and tame it. You wouldn’t be a Channing if you didn’t seek out uncharted waters.” He stood and reached to shake Mason’s hand. “Congratulations, son. Far be it from me to try to stop you. I will not interfere, but I will always be available if you need me. A married man needs to consider his family, and I regret I spent too many years sailing the high seas rather than here on land so I could be with you.”
Mason felt relief drench him. “Thank you sir, for the support and encouragement.”
A smile crested on the captain’s weathered face. “When the time comes for making a decision about import/export trade, we can sit down and talk again.”
“Fair enough.” Mason met his father’s steady gaze with a genuine smile. For the first time, he felt his father’s equal, and the warm sensation stirring through him had long been coming.
“Now, about your upcoming voyage—your last one. Here are the details…”
Hours later, Mason still lay awake. His head swam with all the events of the day, and he worked hard to put each one into proper perspective. Never had he expected his father’s approval of his dreams, and the thought of it pleased him immensely. They’d talked for several hours about the sea, ships, the import/export business, and Jule. The captain liked her and welcomed her into the family. He said wealth or station in life did not measure a person’s importance; rather, they should be judged by who they were on the inside. Mason smiled when he heard those words. In time, Mother might share the same views of his future bride. Perhaps the captain was not such a tyrant after all.
The prospect of leaving Jule in two days’ time did not rest well with Mason, but the sooner he left, the sooner he would return to claim his wife. First thing in the morning, he needed to visit Bolivar Point and break the news.
Hopefully, he could comfort Jule by moving up the wedding date. They had planned so many things for the next few weeks, but they had a lifetime to take picnics and walk along the beach. This trip simply brought their lives together much sooner.
A bit of excitement raced through Mason’s blood. The prospect of sailing up the East Coast to New York and on to England thrilled him. Granted, hurricane season had just begun, but he chose to take his chances and deliver the goods to the various ports, collect the handsome fees for his father, and sail home. After this, the only voyage he ever intended to take again would be with his lovely bride to some secluded, beautiful island in the Caribbean.
Mason decided life offered many appealing roads, and at times he wondered if he needed God. Immediately guilt struck him. But the ideas lingered. As of late, doubts about God had assaulted him like a driving rain.
Mason allowed the warm breeze to cool his face. He tasted the salty air and noted the cloudless, azure sky. A perfect day. He cast his sights on the lighthouse at Bolivar Point and pictured Jule staring out across the blue waters. Oh, how he treasured those rare moments when she removed her bonnet and allowed the wind to blow her radiant black tresses back from her face. Sometimes she closed her eyes as though drinking in the intoxicating effect of sand and sea. He understood the reeling emotions caused by the power of nature. In one breath it offered freedom to dance atop the white crested waves, and in another, its power frightened the bravest of men.
Jule, his jewel. Nearly two months without her seemed unbearable, yet he possessed enough dreams and memories to last a lifetime.
“Thank You, God,” he murmured. Strange, his thoughts turned toward the Lord again. For some time he had wrestled with questions and confusion about the God of his youth. With all the modern thinking and the changes occurring around him, he had begun to wonder if God really existed or if He had become a myth for those who feared the future.
Shaking his head to dispel such misgivings, he busied his mind with final preparations for the voyage. He dare not stay long on Bolivar Point, although the thought tempted him. With Jule, he knew no time, only the present.
From the kitchen window, Jule watched Mason row toward shore. He must have risen at the crack of dawn to arrive so early. No matter—he could share a cup of coffee with her, and there were biscuits, grits, and bacon left from breakfast. Papa ate little again this morning. Lately, he didn’t desire much food and chose to sleep rather than partake of meals with the rest of the family. The debilitating cough had grown worse, leaving him pale and weak.
Joshua admitted to Jule he had taken over the fishing duties because Papa couldn’t manage the weight of the nets. Jule kept telling herself that God held Papa in the palm of His hand, but she worried about his prolonged illness.
“Jule, I believe I see Mason rowing across the bay,” her mother said, interrupting Jule’s pondering.
“Yes, Mama. Though it seems strange to see him this early.”
Her mother laughed. “It must be love, and he’s thinking about those weeks ahead without you.”
Jule blushed. After the uncomfortable scene at his parents’ home the day before, she had wondered how he would be feeling. Last night she had prayed for him and his mother to lovingly resolve their differences.
“You run along to meet him,” her mother insisted. “I will finish the dishes.”
Jule smiled into her mother’s lined face. “Thank you. I won’t let him take up most of my day. I have to tend to the lighthouse.”
Her mother nodded, and Jule impulsively planted a kiss on her cheek before rushing out the door. Barefoot and forgetting her bonnet, Jule stepped lightly from the front porch to the sand-covered pathway leading to the shore. She met Mason as he waded with the boat to land. The sight of him in a loose-fitting white shirt bulging from his broad shoulders took her breath away. Feeling herself grow warm, she glanced at the small boat dancing on the lapping waves.
“She may take flight without you,” Jule said.
Mason cast a quick glance back toward the water. “She may try, but I pulled her tight.”
Jule saw a rare show of apprehension on his tanned face. His handsome features were etched with concern.
“What is wrong?” she asked, momentarily alarmed as a thousand fears raced through her mind.
“You can tell,” he replied with a forced grin. He grasped her waist and pulled her to him. “I love you, Jule Portier,” he said softly and then kissed her soundly.
She held her breath, recognizing the tone of his voice from an encounter months ago. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, speaking barely above a whisper.
He released his hold and met her gaze. At that moment, she knew the truth.
“When?” she asked, taking a deep breath and willing her fluttering heart to calm.
He urged her back into his arms and held her so close she could hear his heartbeat. “Tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn.”
She battled her tears while relishing his embrace. “This can be good,” she said with a feigned smile.
“My sweet optimist,” he said gently. “Can we move up our wedding date—for as soon as I return?”
“Yes,” she breathed, basking in his nearness—the scent of the sea and the taste of salt upon his lips. “I will simply busy myself in sewing my wedding dress.”
“That reminds me,” he began, releasing her to pull out an envelope inside his shirt. “Mother had planned to accompany me in order to mend yesterday’s misunderstanding, but due to the circumstance of my early departure, she wrote a letter instead.” He handed her the missive, written on his mother’s elegant stationery.
Jule held the letter gingerly in her hands as though it were a precious gem. “This is very thoughtful of her. Can you thank her for me and apologize for my rudeness again? I’ll read it later…after you are gone.” She hesitated. “Mason, you must have a score of things to do.”
He nodded and raked his fingers through sun-bleached hair. “I can’t stay but an hour.” Not giving her a chance to comment, he turned to secure a wrapped package from the boat. “Mother wanted you to have this,” he said.
“The green gown?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like for me to keep it?”
“I would, very much.”
She clutched the bundle to her heart. “Then I will wear it with pride.”
“Will you allow me to purchase whatever you need for your wedding gown?” he asked, crossing his arms across his massive chest.
She grinned and tilted her head. “If it makes you happy, so be it.”
“Wonderful, and I do—today and tomorrow.” He hesitated then kissed the tip of her nose. “This is mid-June. We can marry the first week of September. Is that acceptable? I’d like to have the ceremony the same day I dock, but I suppose your parents will want a few weeks to finalize plans.”
“I agree.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and suddenly remembered how she had neglected to put on her bonnet and shoes. “Oh, Mason, I look so badly. I am sorry, and here I will not see you for two months.”
He chuckled. “I want to remember you this way—like the seagulls, graceful and free.”
This time tears hinted at her eyes, but she hastily blinked them away.
He must have sensed her wavering emotions for he quickly grabbed her hand. “Come, I need to tell your family a proper good-bye.”
“Joshua and Papa are out fishing, but Mama is inside the house.” She wanted to tell him about Papa’s illness but thought better of it. What good would it do? “We will be praying for you,” she added.
“No need to bother God, Jule. This will be a simple voyage; I feel it in my bones.”
Chapter 5
Alarm shook the core of Jule’s spirit, and her knees weakened. “Oh, Mason,” she said, “we all need prayers. Who knows what could happen?”
He squeezed her waist. “Of course darling, how mindless of me. Yes,
please pray for all the crew aboard th
e Flying Fish.”
She momentarily forgot his slip of the tongue and savored the precious moments she had left with him.
A short while later, Mason informed her mother of his change of plans and his desire to marry Jule sooner than originally planned. He hugged Mama good-bye and left a proper message for Papa and Joshua. Jule and Mason strolled hand in hand to the shore’s edge, each one avoiding the inevitable farewell. When they finally reached the water, neither said a word.
“I must go,” he said softly, “but I don’t want to.” Both faced the sea. His arms encircled her waist and his cheek rested on the top of her head.
He gently turned her to face him. Lifting her chin with his forefinger, he bent to taste her lips. He drew her so tightly against him that it nearly took her breath away. Mason’s kiss deepened; never had his passion reached such intensity. A part of her urged him on, and another knew he should stop.
When he finally released the kiss, he continued to hold her close. “I love you,” he murmured. “I will think of nothing else but you until the day I see you again.”
Jule felt herself trembling; her pulse quickened and her heart pounded furiously against her chest. “Oh, do be careful, Mason. Please, don’t take any chances; I’ve heard enough stories about your daring on the high seas to last a lifetime. Promise me, my love.”
“I promise,” he breathed. “And when I first reach New York, I will post you a letter.”
She nodded and pulled away from him. They both realized the grief of parting, and he needed to go. “I love you with all my heart,” she said, and her eyes welled with the tears she swore he would not see.
“When you whisper across the blue, I will hear it,” he said, “and I will send my love from wherever I am.”
Mason brushed the dampness from her cheek and kissed her a final time. He stepped away and hurried to the boat. A moment later he raised his hand and waved good-bye.
Jule’s unabashed tears sprinkled her cheeks while she waved until her arm ached. “God be with you,” she said, even though he could not hear. “May His angels watch over you and keep you safe.”
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