by Lori Wick
by magic, but still no rain fell. The wind had begun to whip the
craft as though the magnificent clipper were but a toy. Hoping
to beat the rain that was sure to come, the crew was lowering
the sails as fast as they could
They worked fast and hard, but the wind was stronger and
trouble came. Smokey had never left the helm, so no one had
to summon her when the rigging of the mainsail would not
come loose. The sail had to come down or be ripped to shreds.
Dallas, who had been working with Mic and Robby securing
the other sails, turned to offer his services to Darsey. He
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had climbed the mainmast dozens of times in his day and
would be only too glad to make repairs on this one if needed
What he saw when he turned, however, stopped the words in
his throat.
Darsey and Smokey had come down on the deck, and
Dallas watched in horror as Smokey clamped a knife between
her teeth, jumped up onto the mainmast, and began to climb.
Dallas swiftly tied off the line he'd been holding and ran
toward the mast. With one foot on the base he reached to haul
himself upward, but Darsey's huge hand stopped him.
"Don't do it, lad," he shouted over the wind
'You can't be serious," Dallas shouted back, knowing he
would never get past Darsey if he prevented him.
"YouVe misjudged her, Dallas," Darsey returned, speaking his name for the first time. "She is the captain of this ship,
and she's been climbing the rigging since she was three years
old If you interfere, I can promise that she'll land you in the
next port and leave you to make your own way home."
Dallas could do nothing but step back and look up, just as
the rest of the crew had done.
Smokey had removed her tunic, and the wind now plastered
her white blouse to her slim form. She had tangled her
small-booted feet in the ropes and balanced herself, much
like a circus performer, in order to free up both hands for the
work.
Dallas didn't think he could breathe as he watched her
swaying dozens of feet above the deck, but her face, although
determined, was almost tranquil. Her hands, he also noticed,
moved with skill and dexterity until the job was done.
She came down as swiftly as she had gone up, and Darsey,
catching her around the waist, swung her onto the deck where
she joined her own hands to the men's as they brought the sail
under control.
There was no pomp or ceremony. To the rest of the crew it
was routine. For Dallas, however, it was like a blow. All his
notions concerning her abilities as a captain were falling into
a heap about him. As he worked, he stole glances at her.
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Some of her crew had been sailing for more years than she
had been alive, but she made them seem almost clumsy. There
were no hesitations or mistakes in her movements, no shirking
of any job. Her eyes missed nothing, and with a minimum
of effort, all was put right for the storm.
Not ten minutes later, as the clouds broke loose above
them and the rain began to pour, Dallas realized that his bias
had colored his every thought. Smokey had behaved no differently
since they left Maine than he had on dozens of voyages.
The crew was extremely capable in their performance, leaving
Smokey free to comport herself as she should--as the
captain of the Aramis. Dallas knew he had a lot of soul-searching
to do.
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Two days later, dallas stood at the stern of the ship,
swabbing the deck, checking lines, and coiling rope with Pete.
Save the cleanup, all signs of the storm were over. Although it
had not been the worst storm he'd ever seen, neither had it
been the mildest. The wind and waves had actually moved
them ahead of schedule, so the Aramis was not in a hurry but
moving along at a steady clip.
In the time that had passed Dallas had prayed during his
every waking moment. He had come to the conclusion that
while he did not need to verbally apologize to Smokey,
he must by his actions show her his respect. She certainly
deserved it.
Contrary to what he had thought, there was nothing or no
one aboard the ship over which she was not in complete
command. Dallas found that the Aramis was only an extension
of the woman herself. There was nothing showy or bossy
about her, but with a gesture or softly spoken word, her every
wish was obeyed. Dallas found that he wanted to laugh when
he thought about how full circle his thoughts had come. He
had moved from nearly despising her to being slightly in awe.
He realized now that he had experienced a taste of her
authority when they'd talked on the beach. She had said more
to him than ever before, and there had been no hesitation or
shyness. It was almost impossible to relate the woman he saw
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at the helm of the Aramis to the woman who had spilled her
water glass twice during lunch at home.
"Dallas," Darsey called to him from the helm. "Run to the
captain's cabin and bring the large glass."
Dallas trotted down the stairs to do as Darsey bid. When
he returned to the helm, Smokey put her hand out for the
instrument.
"Thank you," she spoke almost absently. Dallas followed
her eyes and spotted the ship in the distance. He watched as
Smokey placed the glass to her eye, and then again as a huge
smile broke across her face.
"It's the Clausen," she told Darsey, who was right beside
her. She handed him the glass.
Dallas felt more than saw that the other men had become
almost tense. All had stopped their duties and were watching
the captain and her first mate intently.
Smokey took the telescope from Darsey and had one more
look. When she lowered it again, she sported a look that Dallas
had never seen before but would come to love.
"Let's catch him." The words were almost whispered, but
the crew went into action as though on strings. Dallas felt the
blood pump in his veins as Darsey tacked off and headed due
south and he and Mic ran down to man the lines.
The sails whipped and cracked as they let loose, and the
entire vessel seemed to lift out of the water for the chase.
Dallas looked up at one point to see Smokey behind the
wheel. For a moment he was distracted in his duties, thinking
how well the position suited her.
They were some three miles away when the crew of the Clausen realized their ship was under pursuit. The crew of the Aramis watched with glee as Clausen's canvas blew to full sail
and the other ship tried to outrun them. The Clausen stood no
chance.
Dallas was amazed at how quickly they pulled alongside of
the other ship. Smokey stood on top of the wheelhouse, the
glass again to her eye as they sailed past. The crew heard her
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shout of laughter when the captain of the Clausen stood high
and waved his handkerchief as a white flag.
Smokey waved to him in obvious friend
ship as they pulled
easily ahead. Dallas could not wipe the grin from his face; he
didn't know when he'd had such fun. Like a diamond in the
rough, there seemed to be more to Smokey Simmons than he
ever considered possible. In fact, that very evening he was to
see yet one more facet.
"Dallas," Darsey approached him on the deck where he
was repairing some line, "Smokey wants to see you in her
cabin."
"Right." Dallas put his work aside and went directly below.
He knocked on her door and waited for her to acknowledge
him before going inside.
Smokey was at her desk when he stepped in. She motioned
him to a chair.
"How is everything?" she wanted to know as soon as he
was seated
"Fine"
"Good," Smokey said, taking him at his word. "The rest of
the crew has known me for some time, and they would never
hesitate to voice a complaint or concern. I wanted to be
certain you felt the same."
Smokey paused long enough to pick up a sheaf of rolled
papers from her desk
"I found these in my files, and I thought you might like to
study them. You can't have them, but as long as you're on
board you can look at them. They're the plans for theAramis"
Dallas took the pages she offered to hfm and slowly unrolled
them. His eyes drank in the lines and measurements
with the ease of an experienced builder.
"These are excellent," Dallas spoke, almost to himself.
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"It's a fine vessel," Smokey agreed, causing Dallas to look
up. He studied her across the small space for a long moment.
She was as relaxed and confident as she could be behind
I the desk. She smiled easily, transforming her entire face
whenever she did, and there was nothing forced about her
voice or movements.
"I hope I'm not out of line to say that you're different on
your ship than when you're at Jenny's."
"Or at Buck's, when I'm dumping water on myself?"
Smokey said dryly and laughed, freeing Dallas to join her.
"How long have you been sailing?" Dallas was suddenly
overcome with curiosity about this unique woman.
"My father was a sailor, so I've been at sea all my life, but as
an actual captain, just a few years."
"How old are you--19, 20?"
Smokey laughed again, and Dallas found he liked the
sound "I'm 25, and I've been the captain of the Aramis since I
was 23."
"Twenty-five?" Dallas face showed his shock. "You look
younger," he admitted softly, and even though he knew he was
a crewman under her authority, he allowed his gaze to become
rather warm.
Smokey, still so attracted to him she had to work at keeping
her composure, wanted very much to ask him what he was
thinking, but Darsey knocked and entered His stern gaze
pinned Dallas to the seat for a moment, making him feel
closer to 15 than 28.
"Here's your supper, lass--and yours is waiting in the
galley, lad" Darsey stood expectantly on these words until
Dallas stood and moved toward the door.
"Thank you, Smokey," he told her before exiting.
He stowed the papers in his bunk and then made his way
topside, wishing for the first time that he was in command of
this vessel, a position that would allow him to sit and talk with
the fascinating Smokey Simmons for hours if he so desired.
98
Scully, Darsey, Mic, Dallas, and Robby were crowded into
the galley having supper and swapping stories when Smokey
entered Dallas watched in amazement as she slammed her
plate on the table, slopping some of its contents onto the
wood surface.
"This has spinach in it, Scully," Smokey spoke between
clenched teeth, her face bright pink with anger. "I told you in Florida to get some decent food"
"Now, missy," he tried to placate her. "You need spinach.
Remember what your father used to say, he--"
"You have got exactly 15 minutes to get a decent supper to
my cabin," she cut him off ruthlessly. "Or I'll have you keelhauled"
She slammed out in a fury to match the storm they
had just been through, and Dallas spoke.
"What was that all about?"
"She hates green vegetables, always has. And Scully always
tries to get her to eat them. You shouldn't have tried it, Scully,"
Darsey now said to the old cook. "She can always tell."
"She doesn't eat right," he insisted "I don't know how she
tasted them. If only she would--"
"Oh, stow it, Scully," Mic told him. "Just make her something
and take it down."
After a fierce glare at Mic, Scully went to work, grumbling
the entire time. After just ten minutes, he set a fresh plate on
the table and turned to Robby.
"Take that to her, Rob."
"No way, Scully; you made her mad, you take it down."
Scully tried Mic, pushing the plate in his direction. "Take
this down."
Mic didn't even acknowledge him, so Scully looked to
Darsey.
"Don't look at me. I won't go near her when she's been
kept from her dinner."
Dallas suddenly found the entire table staring at him.
"Now wait a minute," he protested but was cut off.
"Go on, lad," Darsey said with a huge grin. "You're low
man this voyage, so get moving."
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Dallas rolled his eyes, scooped up the plate, and walked
low. He thought the lot of them were overreacting./MS? like
bunchofoldwomen.Sbe'sprobablyforgottenallaboutitby
v. Nevertheless, he knocked very softly on her door.
"Come in." Smokey's curt reply brought Dallas through
ithe door.
He set the food down, and she examined the contents as
though looking for clues to a crime. When she stayed silent,
Dallas took that to mean she was satisfied; he couldn't have
been more wrong. As soon as he started toward the door, he
found himself getting the sharp side of her tongue.
"Dallas, this cabin may be your idea of clean, but it's not mine. See to it first thing in the morning."
Dallas turned back and stared at her for the space of
several heartbeats. Her eyes were still flashing with fire,
turning them from gray to black. The top of her head didn't
even reach his shoulder, and yet she rose to give him orders
like a giant. He wanted to laugh so badly that it hurt to hold it
in.
"Yes, Captain," he finally said "Will there be anything
else?"
"No." Her reply was short, and her eyes narrowed, daring
him to make one move out of line. "You're dismissed"
Dallas obeyed, letting himself slowly out of the room.
After shutting the door softly, he paused in the passageway
and grinned, his mind's eye still seeing the darkness in her
eyes and the flush on her face. Dallas slowly shook his head,
his grin still in place. He could honestly say he'd never met
another woman quite like her.
99
"On the island. Along with Mic and Pete."
"I think I'll swim over."
"All r
ight," Robby agreed easily enough, figuring that the
id was large enough to guarantee the captain's privacy.
Since Dallas was dressed only in pants, there was no need
go below for anything. He stepped to the railing, and
>bby's brows rose with appreciation when a perfect dive was
ited, one that caused little more than a ripple on the
" urface of the water. Impressed, Robby watched as Dallas
Surfaced and struck out with long, clean stokes. In no time at
all, he was walking ashore. Robby only hoped that Smokey was
in a secluded place.
abouta week after the spinach incident, Dallas woke one
morning and realized something was amiss. It was early, and
without taking time to pull on anything more than his pants,
he went topside.
He found the Aramis docked near a small island. This
voyage had been something of a pleasure trip for Dallas, and
he'd had no need to keep track of their location. Now he
wished he had paid a little more attention.
Robby was the only one about, and he was standing calmly
on the deck watching Dallas approach. The ship felt so deserted
it was eerie
"Where are we?"
"China bland," Robby answered
"I've never heard of it."
"Not many have. Smokey's pa used to bring her here; it's
where she learned to swim."
"Is she over there now?"
"Um hmm. Along with most of the crew."
Dallas' gaze turned to the small island and lingered on the
rowboats that were pulled up on the beach. He knew the ship
boasted several rowboats, but it was an easy swim and the
thought of walking on terra firma strongly appealed to him at
the moment.
"Is Darsey about?"
"What does it say next?" Smokey wanted to know as she
watched her first mate from across the table.
Darsey turned another page. "A lady must keep her knees
pressed together at all times; her legs should be gracefully
crossed at the ankles. Ah, lass, do we have to go on with this?"
Darsey put the book down and frowned at her.
"Yes. Now keep reading."
"Why didn't you do this at home with Willa?" Darsey
asked, ignoring her order.
Seeing that she was going to have to explain, Smokey
sighed "She would have asked what kind of people my new
friends were, that they expected me to put on airs in their
company. She just wouldn't have understood."
"I'm not sure I do," Darsey admitted There was no censure
in his tone, only tenderness, and Smokey tried to make