The girl appeared even more nervous. “Ah, Missus, ye dinna have to do that.”
“’Tis no trouble.” Sarah asked Beth to bring the tea with a plate of oatcakes. While her daughter was out of the room, Sarah sat next to the girl. “First, what should I be callin’ ye?”
“Aphra. Missus. Me name is Aphra White.”
“Aphra, is it? That’s a lovely name. And where are yer people, Aphra?”
The girl’s hands began to shake. Sarah could see she tried to control it by clasping them together. “Me family is gone. Me mither, she were a washer woman, now she’s gone too. ’Tis all I know to do. I have me mither’s mangle.”
“I am so sorry, Aphra.”
Beth came in with the tray and placed it in front of Sarah, who poured. The first cup was passed to the poor unfortunate. “Here ye are, lass. Drink up.”
The cup clattered against the saucer. Sarah had a flash of worry that the china might break. It was her mother’s china, so carefully packed and sent from Ireland. But more important was this child. The washer woman’s life was difficult indeed.
Sarah used washer women occasionally, but generally she cared for the laundry herself with the help of her girls. However, if this child was any good at doing the laundry, it would certainly free her. Perhaps Sarah could help her in return.
“Missus, I dinna want to take yer time.” Aphra eyed the oat cakes but had yet to reach for one.
“Dunna worry about that. Me children are glad to have the respite from their studies. Do try an oat cake. Me Beth made them herself.” Sarah put one in the girl’s hand to prove it was acceptable.
The child ate it as is she’d been starved for a year. Sarah gave her another.
“Aphra, I will need to discuss this with my husband. But I might use yer help. Where can I reach ya?”
Aphra gasped, coughing and choking.
“Oh, my!” Both Sarah and Beth jumped to the girl’s aid, pounding on her back, raising her arms over above her head, giving her a sip of tea.
As she calmed, Sarah rubbed her back. “Are you all right now? Oh, how frightful!”
Aphra nodded as she pulled away, her eyes moist and as wide as the teacup’s saucer.
“Perhaps you should rest a bit. Here, we’ll make you comfortable on the settee. You can stay until my husband returns.”
Sarah didn’t believe the child’s eyes could grow any bigger, but they did.
“There is no need to worry. I’ll speak with Master Crockett when he returns and let you know what he says. While you wait, just relax. Would you like more tea and oat cakes?”
Aphra nodded, a barely perceptible nod.
Sarah patted her knee and took the tray to the kitchen, leaving Beth to give the child some company. As timid as Beth was, she was also very sensitive and kind. Aphra might be more comfortable with her daughter.
The more she thought about it, the more her heart tendered for the child. If Joseph would agree, she would have the girl move in with them. It would relieve Aphra of room and board, and she could do the laundry that much easier. Sarah had thought it through when Joseph arrived.
She met him at the door, wrapping her arms about his neck and soundly kissing him. “I am so glad yer home.”
He kissed her back and untangled her arms from about him. “I am glad to be home.” He hung up his hat.
“Come with me, love. We need to talk.” She brushed a kiss against his cheek and crooked her finger to get him to follow her to the kitchen. Once there, she explained to him about the waif who came knocking. “So, I’m thinkin’ we should have her come live with us. She would be a great help and Beth might enjoy havin’ a quiet friend. What think ye?”
“You are the one in charge of this house, love. You know what you need. I trust your judgment and that tender heart of yours. If we can help this child, then by all means, let us help her.”
She grabbed his hand. “Good! Then come meet Miss Aphra, our new laundress.” She pulled him to the big room and opened the door. Aphra and Beth sat together talking so quietly that it couldn’t be heard across the room. The movement of their heads and hands gave away that they were in conversation.
Beth glanced up first. “Da!” She came to Joseph and gave him an embrace. This eldest daughter of theirs had enchanted her father from her first breath, Sarah knew.
However, Aphra now grew terrified, appearing to melt into the settee. Beth took Joseph’s hand and led him to the girl. “Aphra, may I present my father, Master Joseph Crockett. Da, this is my new friend, Aphra.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped. That was more words than Beth ever said in front of someone outside the family.
Joseph glanced over his shoulder or Sarah would have thought he’d missed the importance. However, he conducted himself as if it were the most natural thing. “Miss Aphra, it is my pleasure.” He bowed to the girl.
Aphra fainted.
* * *
A few hours after Mr. Cox was disciplined, they were out of the harbor and on their way to Boston. Willie’s stomach turned when Boatswain Johnson gave the lash, but the expression on Maybe’s face was etched in his brain. She lost all color, and he feared she might pass out. Cookie talking with her seemed to help, but that episode of the trip would be seared into her memory. His too.
But that was all behind them now. In two days, they would approach Boston Harbor.
It was his turn at the wheel. They didn’t let him have his turn if they were coming into or leaving port, but when it was open water like this, he got plenty of practice. If his father could see him now. Would he still think he couldn’t do it? That he was incapable of working on a ship? Aye, if he could see him, he would know. Willie was meant for this life. It felt natural, fun.
“Pirates, astern, off starboard.”
A jolt passed through his body.
Boatswain Johnson appeared at his side. “Ninety degrees starboard, lad.” And then he was gone, shouting commands to the crew to man the starboard cannons.
Maybe! What was she doing? Had she been up on the top? Had she been the one to spot the pirates? He should check on her, but there was no leaving his post. What would his father do? Pray, of course.
Willie prayed and turned the ship, exposing the right side guns to the enemy. He prayed and waited to see what to do next.
The boatswain came back to the wheelhouse. “Go, help with the main deck’s third cannon.”
Willie didn’t hesitate. He took off for the main deck and glanced up. Maybe worked the shrouds on the top. He must focus and not worry about her. He spotted the third cannon, manned by Mr. Cox and Mr. Hawkins. It didn’t appear they needed the help, though Willie had only heard quick instructions. Four days ago. What did he know?
He took his place, and Mr. Hawkins shoved him aside.
“Never there. Yer own gun’ll kill ye.” He continued to ready the cannon.
The gun fired, recoiling to where Willie had been standing.
Chagrined, Willie now remembered that piece of advice from the practice. Stupid! He tried to recall the order of what needed to be done. As Mr. Hawkins grabbed the next ball, Willie added the powder. Mr. Cox tended the wick. Soon they had a rhythm and had perfected their angle. Their last cannon ball met its mark, landing against the port side near the poop deck.
“Cease fire!” The call was sudden. Glancing out the hole, Willie spotted the reason. A navy sloop rose over the horizon, heading straight for the pirate vessel. Their enemy’s only recourse was to outrun it, and that meant letting the Frances Pearl go in peace.
The last hour caught up to Willie. The men broke out into cheers. He joined in, as electricity soared through his veins, tingling out through his fingers. His breath came hard, fast, as if he’d run from Beaufort to Charlestown. It was the most exhilarating thing he’d experienced in his life! He whooped with the men, pounding on their backs as they returned the pound.
Today he was a man.
* * *
The only thing that kept Maybe from shrieking in
terror and fleeing her post was remaining steadfast to her duty with the shrouds. When she tended to them, she had less time to think of the fear. But once the cease fire rang out and the pirates changed course, the busyness slowed and fear had room to move. What if they had been taken? What would have happened to the crew? What would have happened to Willie?
What would have happened to her?
Would she’ve been discovered? The fear became so palpable she tasted it—bitter, acidic.
She could not wait to disembark.
Everywhere she went the rest of the day, members of the crew discussed, explained, and elaborated on their exploits against the menacing pirate ship that tried but could not win. There was no mention of the navy vessel or the dire possibilities if it hadn’t appeared on the horizon. That manly swagger oozing from all directions was laughable if not for the actual danger they’d escaped. But her disdain only meant she must keep a tighter lid on her feminine emotions.
“Cookie, I dunna ken why the men talk so crazy. Instead of tellin’ bolder an’ bolder lies, why aren’t they amazed at how close we came to meetin’ our Maker on the bottom of the Atlantic?”
“Ah, laddie, that is how they cope with the fear. They conquer it over an’ over, smashin’ it ’neath their feet with their words.”
She nodded. It made sense. In a male sort of way.
“Ye’ll learn, laddie. Men aren’t s’posed to be afeared, but we’re all human. This chatterin’ on brings it out into the light o’ day and plants courage for another.”
Cookie was wiser than he looked. “How did ye learn all this, Cookie?”
“Spent me life aboard ship. Canna remember doing anythin’ else. As I prepare the food, the crew treats me better. As I listen more than I talk, I hear things. I like it this way.” He winked at her.
She returned a smile, along with a wink. They set about getting dinner ready for the men.
Soon they’d be landing at Boston. Next stop, Ireland. She’d be off this ship and herself once again.
But she would miss Cookie, that’s for sure.
* * *
“Aphra? Miss Aphra?” Joseph picked the girl up and put her back onto the settee before stepping out of the way for Sarah to work. What was wrong? Sarah had an instinct about her. She seemed to sense when one of the children was becoming ill. Perhaps her idea of this girl moving in with them stemmed from that instinct.
Bethy brought a basin of water and a cloth for her mother and then moved to stand beside him. She leaned in. “Da, she told me she feared men. I told her you were safe, but she must have been more afraid than I thought.”
Afraid of men? Afraid of him? What was there to fear from him? He was just a husband and father.
Bethy linked her arm in his.
A wave of gratitude for this lovely daughter flowed through his heart. At least she didn’t fear him.
“She’s coming around.” Sarah spoke over her shoulder before turning back to her patient. “Ye need some food and rest to put you right. Master Crockett and I are in agreement, we want you to move in here and help take care of the laundry. We’ll give ye yer room and board and a stipend—we can discuss how much and when you start when you are better. There now. Ye rest yerself, and I’ll get ye more tea and cakes.” She stood and linked her arm through Joseph’s on her way past him, leading him to the kitchen.
“Joseph love, there’s somethin’ very wrong with that lass. She needs more help than just work.” She’d begun pouring more tea and setting additional oat cakes on the tray.
“Aye. Bethy whispered to me. Said the child is afraid of men.”
That stopped Sarah mid reach. “Afraid of men, is it? A wee lass like she dunna fear men without cause. Oh, Joseph, what can we do to help her?”
Joseph loved how every notion in his wife’s head registered across her face. He read her like a poster. Her thoughts were kind, loving, full of charity. “I do not understand, love. But doubtless you will figure it out. For now, I will keep my distance and add her to my prayers.”
She cupped his cheek as she took the tray back to the other room. Her touch still sent tingles through him, making him smile.
Beth entered carrying the basin of water and the rag. “Da, you would never hurt her. You are too kind.” His sensitive little girl, almost a woman. Her words now confirmed that she’d noted her whisper surprised him and now worried for him.
“I am glad you believe that, sweet one. Though someone has hurt her, or she would not be this frightened. She must feel safe speaking with you. If you learn something, would you tell me, please? If there is a need to protect her or if having her here puts you and your sisters in danger, I need to be aware.” That last thought appeared as he spoke. What if this child’s presence put his daughters in danger? Could he turn her away?
The answer was plain. No, he could not.
Beth nodded. “Aye, Da. I’ll tell you. She hasn’t told me much. Only that she feared meeting you, you being a man.”
“In that case, I will give her time to get over her fear of me.”
His daughter smiled, that lovely smile that made her look like her mother at that age. “She will get over being afraid of you, Da. Trust me. She’ll see you are good and kind to us. Then she will know.”
“Know what?
“That you are safe. And so is she.” Beth came and hugged him. She might hate being put on the spot or talking in front of several people, but she had a way of seeing into a person’s heart and revealing her own.
He hugged her back.
* * *
She should have returned by now. The girl wouldn’t run away from Eleazar Ferguson. She was too frightened to cross him. And she knew the penalty if she even considered it. So, what was keeping her?
He paced to the window and scanned the street. Still no sign of her.
This was not a scenario he’d considered. He’d had no doubt she’d be back, but now... He needed answers. If he knocked on the Crockett home, would that give things away? Would it appear too forward? What pretext could he use?
Stupid, stupid girl. He shook his head. Such a simple task. What could have gone wrong?
He muttered a curse, as he pulled on his hat, tugged at his cuffs, and stormed out the door, his slam rattling his expensive glass windows.
Two minutes into his walk, it was plain he needed to calm himself or the result would throw all his plans to naught. Reducing his speed, he breathed in and out, slow and steady. He remembered who he was. He made the rules. The rules did not apply to him. He was not that pedestrian. He decided what happened, when it happened, and how it happened. This was who he was. The rest had better understand, remove themselves from his path, or be crushed.
Ten minutes more, and he made it to the house. This was a better plan than going to the Crockett home. He rapped with his walking stick.
The door pulled open to show an elderly woman. “Aye, may I help you?”
“I wish to speak with the Master. Tell him Master Ferguson is here to see him.”
“Aye, I’ll tell him.” And she closed the door on him.
Stunned, Eleazar choked on his rage. Who did she think she was, leaving him standing on the front porch? She belonged in the pillory at the very least. What type of hospitable greeting was that? He began to imagine just how he would see to her demise.
By the time the master opened the door to usher him in, Eleazar had the woman tarred, feathered, and boiling in oil. “How dare she keep me waiting out there!”
“My sincerest apologies, Master Ferguson. I am so sorry. Ever since we found the remains of that O’Malley man, she has been terrified of a murderer. Please, come in, make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? Tea?”
Eleazar took a breath. He must remain calm. “No, thank you. I understand how she feels. It has been a bit of a fright since then, hasn’t it?”
“That is the truth of it. Aye. I’m aware you are a busy man. How can I be of service to you, sir?”
Eleazar smiled. That was
the proper way to speak. “I have a bit of a problem. I am attempting to find my laundress. She seems to have disappeared. Normally I wouldn’t worry so much. These washer women come and go, but she’s just a girl and I’ve an interest... much like an uncle or guardian. And I am concerned for her welfare, what with that unfortunate episode concerning Master O’Malley. Might you make inquiries? Her name is Aphra.”
Constable Thomas Miller stood and offered his hand. “You have come to the right place. I will see to her whereabouts post haste.”
Eleazar looked at the proffered hand and forced himself to shake it. “I know that you will. I’ll await your findings. Thank you, Constable.” With that, he took his leave.
* * *
Sarah checked in on Aphra, again wondering what secrets the girl kept that made her so terrified. She’d thought it best to let her rest on the settee instead of moving her upstairs for now. No need adding more strangeness. The child had trouble enough handling the new surroundings of the parlor. Sarah turned to tiptoe to the kitchen.
“Mistress Crockett?”
She just caught the soft voice and returned to the girl. “Aye, Miss Aphra? May I get you anything?”
She shook her head. “No, but I thank ye. But might I speak with ye a moment?”
“Aye, child. What is it?”
Aphra scooted so she was sitting more than lying, her hands trembling on her lap. “Ye’ve been so kind to me.”
“Oh, no, ye needed help. And ye offered yer services, for which I am grateful. Do not worry.”
The girl kept her eyes glued to her hands as if they might fly away, leaving her arms without their tools.
“Is there something else?”
“Aye, Mistress. I—”
A door slammed. “Mama! Where are you?” Jason burst into the room. “Mama, I need to talk with you.”
“Jason, we have a guest, and yer being rude. Please, wait for me in the kitchen.”
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 67