The Merchant's Yield

by Lorri Dudley

  “Sink me!” Captian Fielding slapped his hat on the rail. “We can’t take another hit.”

  “Can we outrun it?” Nathan asked.

  “Not with a cracked boom and flappin’ mainsail. We might as well be dead in the water.”

  Nathan raked a hand through his hair. Why God? Why have You abandoned me to this curse? Will You let it strike me down until I’m destroyed along with my ship and its crew?

  “Batten down the hatches,” Fielding yelled, and men scurried in all directions. “Secure the hold. Prepare to reef the sails.”

  The storm bore down on them in less than thirty minutes with a drenching rain. Soon after, the gales picked up and the rain turned into pounding pellets of hail.

  The men ducked and did their best to take cover. Captain Fielding steered toward the flatter spots between waves, but they still pounded the side and washed over the deck. The boat rolled, and Nathan grabbed hold of a man before he washed over the rail. The Katherine righted, only to pitch again.

  “Are you all right?” Nathan yelled. The pounding rain blurred his vision.

  The lad nodded but appeared pale and shaken.

  A mix of ocean water and raindrops splashed into Nathan’s mouth and down his shirt. “Hold fast to something until the storm passes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Katherine groaned against the battering surf as his men struggled to keep her afloat without slipping on the waterlogged deck.

  As quickly as the storm arrived, it passed, but not without spoiling the sails and further damaging the decks. Nathan surveyed the wreckage and tallied the cost—more than the entire load of cargo he’d sold. They might make it home, but the Katherine may never sail again.

  Lottie leaned over the porch railing and spied Mr. Tallant approaching with a few workers in tow. She scurried down the stairs and into the mud, not caring how it might ruin her boots. “How fared the fields?”

  “I can’t believe it.” Mr. Tallant shook his head. “All the neighboring fields were decimated. Whatever cane still stands is riddled with holes.”

  Lottie halted. The blood drained from her face, leaving her lips and nose tingling. How would Nathan take this news?

  “However,” Mr. Tallant said, “our fields are fine. Only the north field sustained some damage.”

  Her hand flew to her heart.

  “It’s a miracle.” Mr. Tallant smiled. “A complete miracle. It’s as if God drew a line at the path where you do your prayer walks. One side of the line, the cane is perfectly healthy. The other side is ruined.”

  She whirled around to where Adana, Lu, and Franny stood on the porch, awaiting the news. “It’s fine. God protected our fields. We’ll still have a harvest.”

  A cheer went up, and the ladies hugged each other on the porch.

  Mr. Tallant stepped forward and better projected so all the women could hear. “There is damage to the north field, but some of it is salvageable. Our neighbors are going to need our help. The storm was not as kind to them.”

  Lottie stepped forward. “What can we do?”

  Over the next few days, everyone pitched in, sifting through the damaged plants—Adana, Franny, and even Lottie. Long hours were spent fertilizing the salvageable cane and gathering the broken to take to the mill.

  A week after the storm passed, Lottie set down her machete and stretched the aching muscles in her back. The sky blazed with pinks and oranges, and the sun lowered to less than a hand’s length above the horizon. “I think it’s time we called it a day.”

  Adana rose and wiped the sweat from her brow. She dusted off her hands. “Best ta get back and get supper on the coalstove.”

  They turned in their machetes and bundles of cane to the neighbor’s overseer, who thanked them again for their kindness. Weary and worn, the two women trudged back to Calico Manor, knowing they still had supper to prepare before the sun set and the rest of the workers returned, craving food to fill their bellies.

  Adana cast her a sideways glance. “Many now believe yer God is stronger den any obeah or black magic. Dey want to worship da God who can hold off da storm. Deh is no mistakin’ da areas you prayed over were spared.”

  Lottie’s heart warmed. Problems truly were the ground in which miracles could grow.

  “I don’t know ‘bout da storm. It may be a coincidence, but I’ve seen your faith and da kindness you’ve shown our neighbors and da grace you’ve given ta me. Dat is no small thing. Most folk would have me whipped or send me off deh land. If yer God taught you dat, den I respect dat God.”

  When they finally docked at St. Kitts, Nathan oversaw the last of the cargo unloaded and purchased supplies to begin the long list of repairs needed for the Katherine.

  The men bid him farewell and left to see their women and families. He watched until the last of them disappeared before he limped over the weathered boards of the wharf. He’d never felt so alone and so empty.

  At least on the ship, he’d had work, shipmates, and danger to keep his mind occupied. But back on St. Kitts, it seemed memories of Lottie were everywhere. Her amazement at the blueness of the ocean, and her look of wonderment as she held up the scallop shell, thinking the trinket was a rare treasure.

  She’d been the treasure.

  Her death was on his shoulders. He should have protected her, thought of her well-being, not his desire. He should have stayed away. If he’d kept his distance, maybe she would still be alive. Maybe there’d still be a little more joy left in the world.

  Paul passed him on the road, carrying a sack of flour back from the docks. He greeted Nathan with a nod.

  Nathan stopped. He didn’t have the heart to walk into the inn and talk to people. All he wanted was to visit Lottie’s grave to pray for forgiveness.

  He signaled to Paul and hobbled over to him. “Where can I find her…?” His voice trembled. “Where is she…?” buried. He couldn’t force the word past his lips.

  “Calico Manor,” Paul said in his gruff way.

  Nathan nodded and hailed a hack to take him home. As the wagon bumped down the road, Nathan dropped his head into his hands.

  It’s better for her to be buried there. With my family.

  The thought only tightened the vise squeezing his heart. He didn’t deserve solace. This was his punishment. His curse to bear.

  He passed fields of cane broken and punctured with holes. Hail. The storm had hit here too. Most likely Calico Manor had been demolished. Without a harvest, he’d have no money to fix the Katherine. Without the Katherine, he couldn’t import or export. He’d have no money to pay his men or feed his workers. People would starve. He’d starve. His ruin and the ruin of everyone in his care was complete.

  He arrived home in the dim light of dusk and wandered up to his family’s plot on the hill. A freshly dug grave rested with the slaves’ graves. Tears blurred his eyes. They should have buried her next to his family. Guilt shredded whatever remained of his heart. Add this to the list of reasons why he never should have left.

  “I’m sorry.” A sob clogged his throat. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I never told you how much I loved you.” Tomorrow he’d ask Adana where he could get flowers for her grave. Orchids. Lottie loved those. He’d heap them on her grave, as many as he could find.

  Dark shadows appeared on the horizon as his men returned from the field. He started back down the hill toward the house. His slaves must have put in a long day trying to salvage what they could.

  It would never be enough.

  Adana wasn’t cooking in the kitchen. Had she left? Did she predict the horrors to come and escape before it was too late? Nathan sighed and trudged up the front steps. He grunted, putting too much weight on his bad leg. He lit a candle inside the parlor and sank into his favorite chair.

  Lilacs. Lottie’s scent haunted him. His voice was but a whisper. “God, if only You’d tell her I’m sorry.” His throat constricted. “So terribly sorry.”

  A potted orchid sat on the end table. Adana must have p
ut it there. Lottie would have loved it. Her face had lit up when she’d first seen its delicate flowers. She marveled at everything. Nathan’s chest constricted as memories surfaced—her standing too close to the monkeys in the mangrove trees and her astonished expression when he showed her the fish she shot by accident.

  He ran his hands down the sides of his head and stared at the ceiling. “Why, God? It should have been me. I mean nothing to You. You’ve forgotten me. At least tell her how precious she was to me. How much she meant…”

  His throat closed, and he blinked away tears.

  The front door opened, and a woman’s form stood in the entranceway. Not just any woman.

  He blinked. It couldn’t be. Lottie? Dirt smeared her face as if she’d clawed her way out of the grave.

  He froze. Was it the curse? Could her soul not even rest in peace?

  “Nathan?”

  She smiled at him and her blue eyes lit with joy. She may have been an apparition, but his heart swelled at the image. He didn’t care. He only wanted to see her again.

  The apparition stepped closer.

  She looked so alive—so real. He blinked to clear his vision, but she remained.

  “Thank God you’re back.” She crossed the room and put her hands on his cheeks.

  She felt real. He lifted a hand and rested it upon hers. Her skin was warm.

  He rose. “Lottie? Am I dreaming? Are you…? How?”

  Tears shimmered in her blue eyes.

  He crushed her to him. One hand dug into her hair while the other rubbed her back and caressed her arms. He needed to feel every inch. She was alive. Lottie was alive.

  He drew back just enough to see her face. His fingers clutched her gown in a tight grip. “How?”

  “God wasn’t done with me yet.” Her eyes bathed him in warmth, and she stroked his hair.

  “But I…” He squeezed her tight and blinked away tears. “It’s a miracle. I must be dreaming.”

  She pulled back and touched his face with a gentle stroke of her fingers. Her gaze melted into his. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You…” He shook his head. Truly, it made no sense. “You were in the final stages. People don’t survive… Your skin was yellow and your eyes…” He crushed her to him once again. His heart filled his chest until it pressed against his ribs aching with joy. His lips trembled and his hands shook as he kissed her temple and her forehead. “The fever didn’t take you?”

  He felt her smile. “I’m here.”

  For now.

  His heart recoiled and fear iced his veins.

  The curse.

  He shouldn’t be near her. He couldn’t risk her dying. He released her as if she’d burned him. “I-I can’t be near you.” He stepped away.

  Hurt clouded her eyes.

  “I should have told you this before. I should have told you…I love you. I love you, and that’s why you must go.” He couldn’t resist coming back to brandish her lips with one last kiss. After a painfully short press, he raised his face. “Something will happen if you stay. You must return to England. I’m sending you on the next ship.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I won’t go. The fever was not your fault.”

  “God has given me another chance to save you.” He stroked her cheeks. The confusion marring her beautiful face ripped open the hull of his heart. “At least I got to say I love you.”

  “If you love me, you won’t send me away.”

  “I’m cursed. As long as I kept you far from me, you were safe. As soon as I started to care for you, as soon as I stayed near you, you contracted the fever.” The constriction of his throat changed his voice to a raspy whisper. “Lottie, you hung on death’s door. You miraculously recovered when I left. What more proof do I need?”

  She frowned at him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’m a plague.” He backed away, holding up his hands to ward her off. He was a contagious leper. “Stay back.” His dead heart, for a brief moment, had come back to life, and it cried out for more sustenance, but the blaring of his mind screamed he was tainted—cursed. His entire being was ripping apart, but this time he would sacrifice himself for her. “Stay away. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you again. Please believe me. It’s better this way.”

  She stepped forward. “No, I won’t let you. You can choose blessings. You don’t have to be cursed. Do you doubt God’s greatness? He’s more powerful than some black magic woman who murmured words to scare a young planter’s son.”

  He stepped back farther, his leg aching. “God is punishing me. I should have said something to stop them—to save her. Instead, I stayed silent while he beat a slave to death.”

  Her voice was soothing, gentle. “God’s grace holds no bounds. He will forgive you.”

  “God doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “That’s a lie. He loves you, and He’s not punishing you. He put our punishment on Jesus’s shoulders so we don’t have to bear it. God wants you to come back under His protection, but you must renounce this curse. It has no hold over you.”

  He bumped against the wall, and the plates rattled in the cabinet.

  She stepped closer. Her eyes locked on his, begging him to believe. Her fingers brushed the stubble on the side of his face.

  He jerked his head away as her touch tried to burn through his resolve. His emotions splintered like a mast struck by lightning. He ached to draw her close, to feel the softness of her curves against him, to sink his face into her silky hair and inhale her womanly scent. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk her being punished for his sins.

  “I’m not afraid.” Her gaze bore into him.

  “I can’t.” He gripped the edge of the cabinet. The tips of his fingers dug into the wood enough to leave a mark. “I’m responsible for you.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m responsible for me, and I’m trusting God.”

  “You don’t understand. I prayed.” His voice broke. “I prayed and I prayed, but God didn’t save them. Katherine died. I held her in my arms. They died because I was there.”

  Lottie’s eyes flashed, and an angry flush stained her cheeks. She poked a finger into his chest. “That’s what the devil wants you to believe.” Her chest heaved and her fingers clutched the front of his shirt. “Remember the baby turtles striving to get to the ocean? The struggle is what makes them stronger. We can’t stop living. If we do, then the devil wins. You can choose to face troubles with God, under His protection, or you can face them on your own. Nathan, please, choose life. Let God show you the abundance of His blessings.”

  “I want to believe.” He wanted to with all his heart, but the risk… Could he leave her life in God’s hands?

  She smoothed out the wrinkles her grasp had created in his shirt and his muscles clenched in response to her touch. “I don’t believe any of this came by accident. I was meant to be with you, Nathaniel Winthrop. Despite all of our mess-ups and how we’ve misconstrued things, God meant us to be together as man and wife. He chose us for each other. I could have convinced my mother and father if I had wanted to, but my heart knew long before my head caught on. I chose this life. I chose you, and I wouldn’t change one moment.”

  Mr. Tallant strolled into the room and spied Nathan. “Welcome back.” His gaze drifted to Lottie’s hands on Nathan’s chest, and he stilled. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt your reunion.” He quickly backed out of the room.

  Lottie continued to peer at Nathan with those wide blue eyes filled with expectation.

  He needed to think, to clear his head, to determine the best course of action. “Hold up, Marcus,” Nathan called after him. He stepped aside and refused to look at the disappointment he knew he’d see in her face. He wanted to trust God the way Lottie did—to believe God would forgive him, but the commandments clearly said, thou shall not murder. Yet, he’d handed the woman over and watched her be murdered. He might as well have held the whip in his own hands. />
  Chapter 29

  I praise you, Lord, for Nathan’s safe return. You are so faithful, but now I must ask for You to reveal to him your power. Have him know You are greater than the hold of any curse.

  ~ Written in Lottie’s prayer journal

  Lottie flipped back the covers. She couldn’t sleep, not when her husband lay in Katherine’s room, and not in his own bed—not next to her. Two days passed since Nathan’s return, but instead of talking things through, he chose to work it out in his own mind and had avoided her completely.

  She set a place for him at her table, but he stayed too busy to eat and had supper brought to his room after everyone retired. She knocked on the door to his office, but he wouldn’t answer. She followed him into the fields, but he had Mr. Tallant send her away. He claimed to be protecting her, but the walls of his fortress were suffocating her. It was as if she were living her nightmare where the sea-witch tried to drown her. The harder she fought against the current, the more she was pulled out to sea.

  But the sea-witch didn’t get you.

  Because she’d prayed.

  Exactly.

  She bowed her head. God, how can I get through to him when he keeps me at a distance? Please, speak to his heart. Reach him, because I can’t.

  She prayed until she had no more words before lying back down to sleep. Yet sleep wouldn’t come. If she wasn’t going to slumber, at least she could get some mending done. She lit a candle and crept down the stairs. Light fanned out from under the dining room door. Who else could be up? Her breath hitched. Could it be Nathan?

  She was in her night clothes, but what did that matter? He was her husband. She pushed the door open a crack, hoping to catch him unaware so he couldn’t turn her away.

  Adana sat alone at the table.

  Tamping down her disappointment, Lottie entered the room. “Mind if I join you?”

  Adana’s head jerked up, and she pushed back from the table.