He watched the exchange from the doorway. Aye. Whatever bothered Maybe had to do with that Stewart fellow. He was too far to hear what they said and couldn’t get a good view without revealing himself, but how their heads came together, the spoken words lasting more than a quick “thanks” told him he was on to something.
That boy tugged at his heart. If he ever settled down, he’d want a son like him, one brave enough to prove his worth when the odds were against him. Maybe had no family or even a recollection of one, yet he didn’t let it hold him back. Cookie called him the best help he’d ever had in the galley.
If the lad weren’t so close to the Stewart boy, he’d offer him a chance to stay on and learn from him. Perhaps even make him his ward. Funny, it had never crossed his mind before with anyone.
Should he reveal his hand, ask Maybe if he was all right? Would the boy confide in him if there were a problem?
Something unsettled him about this whole relationship. The Stewart boy worked hard, and he was affable enough. He even learned so fast that Sam wondered more than once if the boy had previous ship experience. Most men needed several attempts to learn a task. Not Willie Stewart. Sam had nothing against him. Yet when Willie met with Maybe, Sam’s mind saw puzzles. He’d encountered nothing like it in all his years at sea.
In the meantime, something bothered Maybe. Should he push the boy to talk? Was it enough to say he’d listen anytime? Until his bones told him different, that was the best he could do.
A large wave crashed on the deck, sending water down the hold. Sam needed to get his mind off puzzles and back onto getting the ship to Port Royal. That was the priority. Nothing else mattered until they made safe harbor. He shook his mind free of everything else and returned to the deck.
* * *
Willie prayed. There would be no sleeping tonight. Well, a wink or two in shifts perhaps, but the crew couldn’t afford more. The North Star hid from the boatswain as he searched for reckoning. At this point, they were outrunning the worst of the storm, hoping to find the port by daylight. If they stayed ahead of it, they might make a safe harbor.
So Willie prayed. What else could he to do, other than his job, of course? Yet there was no guarantee God heard his prayer.
Mama would argue with that, he knew. She would remind him that God always heard our prayers, no matter what we’d done, no matter where we were. When we turned our hearts to God, in desperation or gratitude, He heard. We might not like His answer or timing, but He heard. Her voice whispered in Willie’s ear.
The wind howled. Willie prayed harder. The image of Jesus waking in the boat when everyone cried doomed splashed across his mind. Oh, ye of little faith. Was his faith so small? Mama often reminded him that one only needed the faith of a mustard seed—a tiny seed. That was all he had, a tiny seed of faith. But he offered it all.
The storm didn’t quiet completely, but it sure quieted immensely. It stunned Willie, tempering the fury of emotions inside him. It was what he’d prayed for, yet it surprised him. Shocked him was more like it. God listened to him, answered him. Others must have prayed. In fact, he would bet hard money on the fact that his mother prayed right this minute. She didn’t know what he experienced or how dire the straits, but she would pray. She would also realize when her prayer was answered, no matter whether she saw the answer. That was more than mustard-seed faith. That was the faith Willie needed. And he needed it now.
* * *
Morning dawned gray and overcast. Outrunning the storm propelled the ship in the right direction. Praise God. Sam called for them to heave to and use the sounding lead. The tallow-encrusted drop found the shelf, just a tad less than the full one hundred fathom line. When they pulled it up from the bottom, the fine sand sticking to the tallow told him exactly where they were and what he needed to know.
Mr. Stewart helped raise the anchor and, once underway, assisted Mr. Cox with the chip log. Between his charts, the figures he got from the chip log and the magnetic compass, Port Royal was only a few hours away. They could wait out the storm there and God willing, it would be a short wait. The longer it took to get the merchandise to its destination, the less pay awaited. But, reaching the destination was more important than the speed, he reminded himself. Sam took responsibility for every life aboard ship, in prayer, on his knees. He put his trust in the Almighty, doing everything in his power to make it work. He prayed that was enough.
* * *
“Land, ho!”
Maybe fluttered with a twinge of excitement at hearing those words. It meant they’d nearly made it to port, safely. Soon she and Willie would have their conversation. Truth was, she dreaded it as much as she anticipated it. She had little time to dwell on that since the boatswain gave her permission to resume her duties on top. She’d increased her skill with the shrouds, adjusting, pinning, unpinning as needed, to get the ship into the harbor. It would keep her busy until they moored and Willie was free to disembark with her.
Pulling into port, they docked the Frances Pearl, making her secure. A surge would do real damage. However, the storm had abated. Maybe hoped this was a short stop. She descended the Jacob’s ladder, keeping clear of the men making secure. She’d be out of the way in the galley. Perhaps Cookie needed items from the town while they were in port.
“Kind of ye to ask, boy, but I canna think of a thing right now. Me head’s apoundin’. I might catch forty winks while the ship’s quiet.”
“Hope ye feel right as rain soon, Cookie. Perhaps a nap is the answer. It was quite the night.”
“Aye, laddie, that it was. Now off with ye.”
Maybe waved and returned on deck.
Willie headed her way. “Are you ready? Want to go walk about the town?”
She nodded. Her voice, in his presence, evaporated inside of her.
Some men called, asking if he wanted to join them. He declined without explanation, hurrying her down the gangplank.
They walked in silence. Willie pointed out a copse on the edge of town. “Let go in there. Get lost in the trees.” He smiled.
He was trying. There was kindness in him, making her love him more.
She nodded and followed.
Once a stone’s throw inside the grove, he slowed. “Take your pick, Maybe. Which one looks like climbing?”
She wandered to the nearest one with the lowest hanging branches. “This will do.” She pulled herself up and made her way high among the leaves. A moment later, Willie sat on a branch at her feet.
He said they would talk. He must start. She didn’t know how. She swung her legs. “So?”
He glanced at her and then back at his lap. “So… I am sorry, Maybe. I don’t know what to say. I—” He cleared his throat. “I had no right. Couldn’t blame you if you never trusted me again.”
She hadn’t expected that. Air escaped her, leaving her heart thumping in her ears. She shook her head. “It was my fault, Willie. I only wanted ye to shut yer mouth so ye wouldn’t be discovered. Nothing else worked. So I kissed ye. I could’ve told ye to stop. I should’ve.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She looked away. How could he ask that? “Willie…”
“I shouldn’t have asked. You were honest. But it is my fault. If I had just gone with you.”
“Why dinna ye jist meet me, Willie?”
* * *
Willie closed his eyes tight. Not even his sisters knew. Nor did Jason. His parents had covered for him his whole life. James was told only because his help was needed for them to attend college.
How did he tell her? How would she react? After what he’d done to her, though, she deserved the truth. He coughed away the tickle. “Maybe, I can’t read.”
Her eyes bored into him. She didn’t believe him.
“I don’t understand why, but when I try to read, the letters on the page all dance around.”
“But you wrote a note to yer parents. Ye told them in a note yer going to sea. How?”
“If you ask me how to spell something
, I can tell you. I have memorized so many words. I can see things in my head, and if I memorize it, it is with me forever.”
She shook her head, staring off into the distance.
“My parents thought since I could memorize so well, I should be able to go to college. They sent me to William and Mary, but to help, they sent my brother James too. He was to read the assignments to me, and we would take the same classes. But it was harder than we imagined. He had to study so hard he didn’t have time to read to me. I couldn’t tell my parents. He wasn’t trying to cause a problem, and I hated being cooped up there, anyway. So, I left school, told my parents it wasn’t for me.”
“I’m sorry, Willie. I convinced myself you just didn’t want to meet me.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I do that well enough myself. I had never tasted liquor, plus I had not eaten all day. It didn’t take much to get me drunk as Davy’s sow. I only had one tankard. Didn’t like it much either.”
She laughed. “Mr. Cox said it was only one tankard, but I was sure he’d tried to make it less than what it was.”
“At least I know my limit, now. One sip! Ha! The stuff tastes so awful. I didn’t want them thinking I was…” How was he to admit this?
“That you were less of a man?” So, she understood.
“Aye. Some man. I’ve a lot of growing to do.”
She put her hand over his. “Ye are a man, Willie. A good one. Not every man would come talk. Ye’ve taken good care of me on this trip. I’m beholden to ye.”
Anyone else, including himself, would regard him as a thief. Why not her? “Maybe, I stole from you, put you in danger, all because I can’t hold my liquor and wanted to be a man. If we were home, if I could do this over, I would ask permission to court you. I care about you, very much, very deeply. You are more gracious than I deserve.” He squeezed her hand as something warm and wet plopped. “Don’t cry, Maybe. I can’t take that.”
“I care about ye, too, Willie Crockett. Very much, very deeply.” She sniffed and wiped her forearm across her eyes. “Let’s just sit here. We’ve done enough talkin’ fer now.”
Willie agreed.
Chapter Twelve
Aphra grew stronger each day. Sarah had grown to care for the girl as one of her own. Aphra pitched in with chores and helped with the younger girls, though she still avoided the males in the family.
Sarah and Joseph went back and forth concerning how to tell her she needed to speak in court. Joseph agreed to wait until the Sabbath since they couldn’t start a trial before then. But Monday morning, the trial would begin, with or without her. Joseph stressed that without Aphra’s testimony, they would release the man.
Now Sarah must figure the best way to approach this. She took a deep breath and called the child. Patting the settee, she offered a seat. “Aphra, I want to thank you for all the help ye’ve been giving the past couple days.”
“Oh, no, missus, tis me who ought to be thankin’ ye. I dunna ken what woulda become of me if he hadn’t made me to go spyin’ on yer family.”
“Spyin? I dinna realize that was the plan. Do ye ken why ye were to spy?”
“No, missus. He never told me. Jist says to listen an’ tell ’im what I hear an’ see.”
That was a new development. She would have to tell Joseph. “Aphra, the man is in jail and canna bother ye more. Unless he gets out.”
Her back straightened, and her fingers danced together as fear shone through her eyes. “How would he get out, missus?”
Deep breath. Patience. “He would get out if they do not convict him at his trial.”
“When is the trial?”
“On the morrow, in the morning.”
Aphra trembled. “Oh, he mustn’t, they can never allow him out. He will hunt me down an’ kill me. He canna get out, missus.”
Sarah took the girl’s hands in hers. “I understand. There‘s one way to ensure he doesn’t get out. One way. But only ye can do it.”
The girl shuddered. “What must I do?”
“Ye must testify in court to what he did.”
The child’s eyes grew wide. Her intake of breath broke the silence of the room. “Ye mean, I must tell me story in a court? In front o’ everyone? Or live me life knowing he can kill me any time? What choice is that?” She jumped up from the settee, her eyes wild as she paced.
It took everything in Sarah to sit quiet, let Aphra work through the information.
“I know what I must do, I just dunna think I can. Oh, missus! Please help me!”
Sarah opened her arms, the girl threw herself into the embrace. “Yer not alone, Aphra. We’re here for ye. Yer not alone.” Sarah swayed, rocking the child. At least she was considering what she knew she must do.
* * *
The day dawned humid and humorless. Joseph knew this would be a day he’d remember. The question was, would he remember it as a victory or tragedy?
Sarah told him at bedtime that Aphra decided to testify though it terrified her. Her determination might be gone by the time they left for court.
They’d held each other, praying for the girl all night. Every time he woke, he sent up another prayer. Now the morn arrived. Ready or not.
The children readied the morning table as if an ordinary day. Aphra sat next to the end near Sarah with Janie across from her and Beth at her side. He’d noticed Jason kept his distance and was thankful for that. When all had eaten and the table was cleared, Joseph pulled out his Bible and read the story God placed on his heart.
He read Second Kings chapter six starting at verse eight, recounting the story of how the king of Aram wanted to kill the prophet Elisha. The prophet’s servant could only see the king’s army surrounding them, but Elisha prayed that God would open the eyes of the servant to see who stood with them—the angel army. He prayed that Aphra would trust that an angel army surrounded her with protection.
Then Sarah helped the girl get ready. When they left the house, they walked arm in arm a few strides ahead of Joseph so he could protect them without Aphra watching at his back.
The knot in his stomach grew. There was the need to get this animal off the street and away from young women—Joseph’s girls each passed before his mind’s eye. Bile rose in his throat. Nothing must happen to them.
Then there was Joseph’s reputation. If the verdict did not find the monster guilty, this village might not trust him again. It wasn’t so much that he would be seen in a bad light, but it could affect his livelihood, which would impact his family. Would they have to leave everything behind to start again? What if Willie returned to find them gone? What would happen? How would he get word to him?
So much depended on the child’s testimony. Yet if she were brave enough to speak in court, would it be enough for the judge to believe her and find Eleazar Ferguson guilty?
Upon arrival, Joseph came to his wife’s side to get the door for the women. Aphra quavered, and his heart went out to her. He couldn’t imagine putting his sweet Beth through this. He offered her a smile as her gaze darted his way. Did she return the smile? If so, it was quick. Perhaps she trusted him, a little. He hoped he’d made some ground.
Joseph guided Aphra and Sarah to their seats, taking his on the other side of his wife so as not to frighten the girl. She was on the end so no one else could sit next to her.
A few minutes later, the prisoner was led in, wearing chains and appearing ragged. Jail had not been comfortable. His waistcoat was wrinkled, and the seam at the top of his sleeve had ripped open a few inches. His breeches were soiled, ratty, and dry mud covered his shoes. It was not the same impression Joseph received at their first meeting, however, it felt more like the man’s true self. Dirty.
Joseph caught the prisoner glancing about, figuring he searched for Aphra. He stood, moving to block the view.
Judge Gibson chose that moment to enter.
Everyone stood, Joseph remaining in front of Aphra. He had no idea what to do once required to sit, but he’d protect her as long as he could.
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Court was called to order, all taking their seats. Joseph glanced back at Sarah. She’d read his mind, instructing the child to stare at the floor.
“We are present to hear the case against one Eleazar Ferguson on the charge of rape. Will the prisoner stand? How plead you?”
Eleazar stood. “I am innocent, Your Honor.”
Though not surprised, Joseph wanted to vomit at the atrocious lie. He had no doubt of Ferguson’s guilt. In this and more. It was the more part he could not prove.
“The prosecution may call its first witness.”
Joseph was named. As Sarah’s husband, he was expected to testify to what she knew. Only in an extreme case would they call Sarah herself. Joseph shared how the child had come to his home, how his wife and daughter had learned of her fear of men, and how he saw this for himself when he met her. He told how they offered her a place to stay as she was terrified to return to her place of residence. It wasn’t until later, when alone with his wife, that the girl revealed that Eleazar Ferguson had held her captive, misusing and abusing her.
At that point, the defense attorney rose. It disturbed Joseph that Alexander Thornton would deal with the monster, but it was important everyone have access to a defense. There was wrongful prosecution. But nothing was wrongful in this case. So deep was the evil that it felt as if snakes slithered near his feet.
“Master Crockett, you would have us to believe that you have no ulterior motives with your charges?” Where had Thornton arrived with that?
“What ulterior motives might I have?”
“Your son has gone missing, is this true?”
Joseph glanced at Sarah. She looked as stunned as he. “My son has gone to sea.”
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 70