by Lisa Norato
Brogan felt a woman’s touch on his arm. “Captain, are you ill? He’s warm and his nightshirt is soaked with sweat,” she said, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Warrick, fetch him a tumbler of water.”
Eyes heavy with sleep, Brogan blinked, fighting off the stupor until he’d oriented himself to his surroundings. He took a deep breath and realized he sat within the large box-framed bed of his cabin. Moonlight shone between the damask curtains like a pearl, spreading the faintest illumination across Lorena’s—not Abigail’s—features as she stood beside the bed, eyeing him. Slowly he roused to the smells of new wood, clean linens, and tallow from the lantern’s candle. A lantern held by his chief mate, Jabez Smith.
The sea rolled in a long, low swell, lifting the Yankee Heart, then carefully easing her down again. As his eyes adjusted, Brogan looked with annoyance at the gawking faces about him and suffered no small measure of self-consciousness.
Reaching down, he clutched the sheets snug about his waist.
“Mr. Smith, for what reason are you gathered in my sleeping cabin at such an hour?”
“You were moaning and cried out in your sleep,” Lorena was quick to explain. “We all heard you, didn’t we, Mr. Smith?”
Brogan’s heart thumped wildly as Lorena’s gaze found the jagged raised scar on his right shoulder. His nightshirt had twisted around him and slipped off one shoulder, he realized. He quickly covered himself, but not before he caught her pitiful wince.
As her eyes found his, she suffered embarrassment over her scrutiny and promptly retreated to stand alongside Drew, as though suddenly aware of the intimacy. In the lantern’s light, her springy ginger-brown curls reflected subtle tints of auburn and gilt. They fell loose about her small face and down across her shoulders as she stared back at him, disarmed.
Brogan quickly diverted his attention to Jabez. “There was no need to come running. I am not a child.”
“And yet ye have little trouble screaming like one.”
His young steward Warrick let slip a snicker.
Lorena gave him a sharp look. “The water, please, Warrick.”
“Yes, miss.”
“I don’t need water. Nor anyone’s concern, thank you. It was an unpleasant dream and that is all,” Brogan assured them, catching his son’s eye.
Drew, who had been quietly observing by Lorena’s side, laid his cloth doll on the edge of the bed. “Captain Briggs helps when I have bad dreams.”
Brogan reached for the doll, recalling the day he’d presented it to Ben. Captain Briggs was to be Ben’s protector while his father sailed the seas. “Just think of me when you hold Captain Briggs,” he’d told his son as he tucked him into bed, “and remember how much I love you.”
Brogan blinked the moisture from his eyes, thankful that he sat within the shadows of his corner bed. “Thank you, Ben,” he said with pride welling in his breast. “I shall keep Captain Briggs with me for the rest of the night.”
Ben grinned broadly, responding to the name, and for the first time Brogan sensed the son he thought he’d lost acknowledge his true identity. Not as Drew Huntley, but as Benjamin Talvis.
Lorena twittered disapprovingly and moved to take the boy by the shoulders. She pulled him to her in that mother-hen fashion she was known to employ. “Surely, Captain, you mean Drew.”
“Aye, pardon … Drew. Seems I’m still quite sleepy.” And before Lorena could say another word, he quickly added, “Now back to bed, all of you. Mr. Smith, I leave it to you to see them safely to their cabins.”
It had been an eventful and emotional day for them all. Everyone was exhausted. And in the dead of night, who could think clearly? Or so Lorena tried to tell herself as she padded back to her cabin with Drew. Before bidding them good-night for the second time, Warrick reminded her that breakfast would be served at half past seven.
Her thoughts continued to whir as she climbed back into bed. No amount of reasoning could explain the exchange she’d witnessed between Brogan and Drew. Lorena could no longer deny there was something to their relationship other than a sea captain’s kindness to a small boy. Brogan’s longing looks, the interest and concern he showed for Drew seemed to indicate this was more than an unlikely pair of kindred souls brought together by happenstance. Could it be that Brogan concealed a deeper relationship with the boy, a relationship not even Drew was aware of, and yet for some reason he responded to it?
She could not dismiss Drew’s remark about the papa he’d lost. He had never complained about his lot in life. He’d resigned himself to the fact that both his parents were gone and had accepted her father as his own. He’d been content, and with the exception of his attachment to Captain Briggs, Lorena never knew he longed for more.
She curled her body protectively around his on the goose feather mattress, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, every faculty alert, unable to sleep for the accelerated beating of her heart.
“Drew?” she whispered from behind. “Tonight the captain called you Ben.”
“Oh, he does that sometimes.”
“Don’t you find that odd?”
The boy grew silent, then admitted drowsily, “I don’t know.”
“You’ve told me how much you enjoy Captain Talvis’s stories. Did he ever tell you how he got that long raised scar across his shoulder?”
She felt Drew’s nod. “He let me touch it.”
He rolled over and told her of a battle with cannons fired and the quarterdeck shattering. A wood splinter had speared the captain in the fray. He wouldn’t allow the wound to be treated until his privateer’s coat had been carefully removed, no matter how much additional pain it caused to his shoulder. The garment was not to be cut off.
Lorena could find no relief from her disturbing thoughts. Why would a coat, an article of clothing, hold such import? It was almost as though the coat were as precious to Brogan as Captain Briggs was to Drew.
She should confront Brogan for an explanation, but she was frightened of discussing a subject that might lead to the exposure of her own secret.
Lorena didn’t sleep well that night. She rose late, and by the time she entered the great cabin, the men were well into their breakfast. Mr. Smith, second mate William Farragut, and Brogan all set down their coffee cups and rose to bid her a good morning.
Drew looked to be working with something on his lap. He glanced up with delight to see her and let out a belch.
Brogan scowled with disapproval. “If Mr. Huntley were here, he’d say you’d left your manners beneath your pillow.” He looked embarrassed for the child’s sake and offered Lorena an apologetic smile. “We were just about to leave for our duties, but please sit, Lorena, and enjoy breakfast.”
His eyes twinkled at her. Lorena found him especially handsome this morning, from the amused quirk of his lips to his strong, sharp nose and longish sandy mane. Over a starched white shirt and cravat he wore a double-breasted jacket of dark olive gray with gold ornamental buttons and tails that fell below the knee. His pale yellow trousers tucked smoothly into his black leather Hessians.
She blinked, conscious she may have stared overlong and hastened to the dining table.
Brogan led her to a seat as the men resumed theirs. “Yesterday was quite an eventful day for you. You rested well, I trust?”
She’d hardly slept a wink. “My turn of fate has worked wonders for my well-being. And you, sir? How fared the remainder of your night?”
“Captain Briggs and I shared a fitful sleep.”
Lorena noted the strain in his smile and wondered again what darkness haunted Brogan that would cause him to cry out in his dreams.
“Drew accompanies me each morning as I take first observation of the decks,” he said. “With your permission I’d like for him to continue at my side.”
From across the table, Drew’s eyes shone enthusiastic and bright. “Sometimes I help Warrick fill the ship’s lamps and sometimes I fetch coal for Mr. Mott. And I have been learning to tie knots.” He slapped a length o
f halyard down on the table. “See?”
“A fair rolling hitch,” Mr. Smith observed.
Warrick, to the contrary, did not look amused. “This morning I woke to find my feet bound with a reef knot.”
“Oh, Drew, I hope you haven’t been misbehaving this whole journey.” Lorena bore her correction sternly at the boy.
“The lad is in high spirits to be back with ye, miss, and it seems the wee rascal inside that has lain quiet for missing ye is returned.” Mr. Smith wiped his mouth on his napkin and, excusing himself, scrambled to his feet. “Lively now, Mr. Farragut. We’ve decks to wash down and ready for inspection. I’ll meet ye above, Cap’n. Enjoy yer breakfast, Miss Huntley,” he bid.
As the mates took their leave, Lorena helped herself to what remained of the oatmeal. “I find it remarkable the responsibility you’ve all shown where Drew is concerned,” she told Brogan. “At first I wondered how my father could have sent him on this journey, being as young as he is, but you show the child no less care than a father would his own son. Though, after last night’s exchange, I’m not entirely certain who is taking care of whom.”
He seemed to grow uncomfortable under her thoughtful gaze. He pushed his plate away, making ready to depart. “Warrick will see to anything you need. At your leisure he’ll escort you to the main deck. Perhaps you’d care to work on your needlework or read under the shade of the sails. Later, Drew and I shall fetch you for a proper tour of the Yankee Heart. I know you’ve seen her as she was being rigged, but she is quite another thing to behold, a living creature in her own right, fully manned and on the sea.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll visit the galley instead. I’d like to thank Mr. Mott for last night’s supper and give him my compliments. And then I must seek out Edward Hicks. Edward was a friend of George’s and is as saddened and disappointed as I by his actions. I promised to explain the events that befell me.”
“When I see Mr. Hicks, I shall send him to you.” Brogan rose. “Enjoy your morning, Lorena.”
“And you also, Brogan.”
Lorena followed man and boy to the door with her gaze, marveling at the pair they made. A stranger could recognize their bond. She felt pride at Drew’s interest in the ship and the sacrifice he’d made last night in parting with his beloved Captain Briggs. He had accompanied Brogan on this rescue mission, a larger-than-life adventure for an imaginative child, especially one with a fondness for sea captains. Brogan had become a hero in Drew’s eyes. Not a cloth doll, but a flesh-and-blood captain on whom to bestow his admiration and awe.
And yet Lorena sensed there might be more to it than that.
“Can I bring you anything, miss?” Warrick asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Hot water for your tea?”
“You can have a seat and tell me something about your captain, Warrick. What sort of man would you say he is?”
The boy looked stricken. He seemed to consider whether it was his place to answer such a personal question, but at length he lifted his chin with confidence. “Captain Talvis gave us a chance, William and I. Employment, food, and shelter when we’d nowhere to turn. My parents sent us off on our own, we being the eldest except for my brother James, who is quite sickly. We were too many at home, miss. Eleven of us and our parents were too poor to care for us all. Men were needed to sign on with the privateers, but no captain would have us because we’d no experience on the sea. None until Captain Talvis. He’s a fair and generous captain. He made certain we were treated fairly.” Warrick squared his thin shoulders. “It has been an honor to serve him.”
Lorena felt humbled by his confession. “Thank you for sharing your story with me, Warrick. I believe I would like that hot cup of tea.”
As he left to fetch the water, she pulled her silver thimble from the pocket of her gown. Lorena did believe she was falling in love with Brogan Talvis. Love, yes. For how else to explain this intensity of feeling that overtook her whenever she stepped into his presence?
Other than his exploits as a privateer, she knew little of his life before he’d arrived in Duxboro. And yet the more she learned, the more it confirmed the good treasure of his heart.
Unfortunately, more than treasure was buried in that heart.
Something painful and dark. And she knew, with secrets, there could be no chance for their love.
15
The Yankee Heart bowled along on a smart breeze under a heavy press of sail. Lorena stood at her bow, bracing the rails as she leaned into the sea. From several paces behind, Brogan watched as, unawares, she raised her face to the spray like some life-sized figurehead.
The wind blew fresh, snapping at the slightly raised hemline of her narrow, gauzy gown. Her flat sandals tied with leather straps, and the skirt’s edging of white embroidered lace flirted in the breeze with her trim, delicately boned ankles. The sight entranced him, and it was here his gaze lingered.
The ocean rolled with a sound that echoed strong in his ears like the flap of the sails high above. Crew members moved busily about, and he knew Lorena had not heard his approach. As Brogan stepped up behind her, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders and cautioned in her ear, “Don’t be startled.”
She swallowed a sharp intake of breath and turned, only to smile when she saw it was him.
Brogan dropped his hands as she whirled about to face him, swatting back the ginger-brown tendrils that blew across her eyes.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he explained.
With a knowing smile she shouted above the noise and commotion. “I’ve been in the galley, visiting with Mr. Mott. Together we baked a lovely shortcake to be served with dinner. I could not pass up the opportunity,” she tittered. “I do enjoy baking, as you well know. There’s peace in the distraction of my busy hands, and I find the task silences my mind. I’ve muddled through many a dilemma in the kitchen. I assumed you wouldn’t mind, since Drew was with you… .” She glanced behind him, her eyes narrowing with concern. “Where is Drew?”
He wondered why any dilemma should trouble her now when she’d been taken off the Lady Julia and saved from George Louder. Had she discovered something about his past? Did she suspect his relationship to Drew?
He cast the thought aside to ease her mind about the boy. “Drew is with Warrick below. If you’d like, I’ll have the pair of them take you on that ship’s tour I promised earlier. But first, I’m glad we have a moment, Lorena, because I have something to ask of you, and Drew might be disappointed if he knew I had plans for us tonight that do not include him.”
“Oh. Plans? For us, you say. You mean for you and me?”
“Exactly.”
She grinned like a child ready to receive a surprise, intrigued yet not entirely convinced it was going to be something she’d enjoy. Then, as she peered more deeply into his eyes, Brogan decided, nay. Not a child, but a woman.
“What sort of plans?” she asked.
His heart rate quickened, and he clasped his hands behind his back to better brace himself. “Will you walk with me after supper, Lorena, once you’ve put Drew to bed, so that we might spend some time alone together?”
He seemed to have stunned her silent. Smiling, Brogan reached up to tame the loose spirals of hair whipping about her face. He’d removed his jacket earlier, and now the full sleeves of white shirt billowed in the wind.
“The skies predict a fine starry night,” he coaxed, drawing a breath. “Are you game for standing a trick at the wheel?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Brogan explained, more softly, “Would you enjoy a lesson on manning the Yankee Heart’s helm this evening?”
“Oh! Why, yes. I think I should enjoy that very much,” she answered within seconds, much to the delight of his impatient heart and with a radiant smile that had the blood pumping a little more freely through his veins.
He led her to where he had left Drew with Warrick and returned to the business of captaining his ship. He thought of her all day, envisioning the moment he would have
Lorena’s attentions all to himself.
Fortunately, this cruise was not a demanding one requiring his constant focus, for Brogan found he spent many a moment that day staring out to sea.
By nightfall, however, he’d managed to harness his energies and employ them in entertaining Drew. After their Bible reading, they took turns at a game of draughts. Drew giggled himself silly when the pieces slid off the board with a heavy roll of the ship, and on that occasion it was the lad’s assignment to locate and collect them. Later, they played hide the thimble. Lorena covered Drew’s eyes with her hands while Brogan hid the thimble somewhere within the great cabin. Drew searched, aided by hints of “you are hot” or “you are freezing.”
They played until Drew collapsed from exhaustion, and then Brogan carried him to bed. He was asleep before Lorena had finished tucking him in.
That done, Brogan smiled down on her, anticipating the night ahead and offered his hand to escort her on deck.
They sailed under a clear dark sky. Brogan found the wind stronger and the air crisper since he’d last stepped outside. It whistled through the rigging. Yards creaked. A slatting sail blew against the mizzenmast, where sailor John Bowne stood watch.
Brogan invited Lorena to ascend the companionway ladder to the quarterdeck before him. There stood a man at the wheel wearing a checkered shirt with a blue bandanna tied around his head. Brogan called out to him as they approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Fletcher. How is she headed?”
“Evening, Captain. She’s headed right on her course, sir. West, southwest by west.”
Lorena was introduced to the broad, rugged quartermaster.
“Avast your stand here,” Brogan commanded. “I have a desire to take the wheel myself tonight. Break for an hour and then you may return and resume the rest of your watch.”
“An hour, sir?”
“Aye.” Brogan took one spoke into the clutches of his strong hand. “Have you supped yet, Mr. Fletcher? Go forward and sample Mr. Mott’s fine fare for this evening. Do as you please. Mr. Smith will give you no complaint for your idleness. He knows I have taken command of the wheel and have granted you leave. Though you may remind him I do not wish to be disturbed.”