by Danni Roan
“I’m Xenia,” she said her eyes wide as she turned butting the oversized shirt with trembling fingers.
“I’ll call you Zeke,” his deep rich voice continued. “I’ll tell them you followed me, and were trying to…”
The door burst open a lantern flaring to life and blinding them.
“’ere what’s going on?” a burly man called raising a billy club.
“Hey, who are you?” another man asked stepping into the room and glaring at Xenia.
“He’s, he’s my brother,” Birch called shielding Xenia from prying eyes and the brightest of the light with his arm.
“How’d you get in here?” the man asked a menacing scowl crossing his face.
“He followed me,” Birch said. “He’s just a kid, let him go, and I’ll stay.”
The man with the club chuckled. “Let ‘em go?” he laughed. “Not on yer life. He’ll run off and tell the police, and then where will we be?”
“Looks like we’re a full crew now,” the other man added. “I’ll tell the captain.” He backed through the door taking the light with him and plunging all of them back into darkness as the door slammed shut the lock rattling into place with an icy finality.
Xenia’s knees went weak as darkness pressed in on her, and she slumped to the floor. How was she ever going to get out of this mess? What would Wendi and Vera say now?
Birch knelt placing his hands on the frail looking young woman’s shoulders. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you,” he whispered. “Somehow we’ll get you off this ship.”
The other man joined them, “ain’t likely that’ll be fer a while,” he said. “I’m Barnaby by the way, and just so’s you know they’re hauling anchor as we speak.”
A harsh rasping sound on the side of the ship drove Barnaby’s point home and Xenia felt the tears stinging her eyes.
Birch looked down into the pale face of the young woman who had come to rescue him. How could they keep up the ruse of her being his little brother on a sailing voyage?
“Barnaby, do you promise to help me keep Xenia’s true nature a secret until we can set her ashore?” he asked.
“I swears it on me mother’s grave,” Barnaby said. “Any chit brave enough to try to save a fella she don’t even know is worth it in my book.”
Xenia looked between the two men thankful that they were willing to do what it took to help her. At least she wasn’t all alone in this mess. One way or another she would survive and get them all off this boat.
Chapter 4
Xenia woke brushing her hair off of her neck as the heat of the afternoon sun reached her. She must have drifted off while reading Wendi’s letter.
Blinking into the bright sunlight Xenia sighed. It was a miracle she was even here today to enjoy the warmth of the bright California sun. She’d been dreaming about those early days on the boat with Birch and Barnaby.
She needed to sit down and write to Wiggie and all of her adopted sisters if she could track them down. So much had happened that night when the ship she had been locked up in had set sail.
Would Wiggie forgive her for the pain and worry she had caused with her foolish belief that she could save the sailor?
Xenia smiled. Madam Wigg had been the reason she’d never doubted herself through the years. The older woman with the heart of gold had been the rock that each child had learned to stand on at the Wigg School and Foundling Home.
Wiggie had raised each of her sisters in love to be teachers, giving them a hope for a bright future. She’d taken in each child as a gift, gracing them with a name chosen in sequence from the Alphabet.
Abigail had been first, then Beulah and on down the letters until Xenia had been the best option for child number twenty-four.
Rising and heading to the kitchen Xenia’s heart went back to her days at the school. Wiggie had managed to love her with grace and patience no matter how many times Xenia’s own exuberance had gotten her into a pinch.
“Something smells good,” she said moving toward the large battered cook stove where Brandy was working.
“Stew and bread is all,” the older woman said with a smile. “It’s hearty, filling and goes a long way.”
“You’re a dream come true,” Xenia said wrapping and arm around the other woman. “I don’t know how I’d ever keep up if not for you.”
“I’d be on the streets if not for you,” Brandy said blowing a wisp of graying hair from her eyes. “Once the White Gull closed I had no place to go.”
Xenia smiled. “Well I’m just thankful you’re here with us now. I think the men are as well, you’re a far better cook than I am.”
Together the two women laughed. Not only did Brandy’s food taste better, it went further on a budget, and Xenia was eternally thankful for the fact.
“How many have we got for dinner tonight?” Brandy asked giving the pot another stir.
“Birch said he has eight men in the shop today, and I think a few of the boys will be in as well.”
“We have plenty then. I made a couple of extra loaves just in case.” The older woman turned dark amber eyes on Xenia, “You feeling peaky again?”
“No, not really,” Xenia replied. “I have a great deal on my mind though. I’ve been corresponding with some of the girls I grew up with, and I’m trying to decide if it would be safe for them to come for a visit.”
“You work too hard,” Brandy chided. “After all that time on that horrid boat you need to let yourself rest.”
Xenia smiled. Brandy had been horrified and enthralled by Xenia’s adventures on the high seas but still liked to fuss.
“I’ll slow down soon, I promise.” Again Xenia smiled trying to reassure her house helper and friend. “I need to write Pastor George and see if he’s found new work assignments for any of the men yet.”
“Well don’t take too long, them brutes will eat every scrap from ya if you’re not here for dinner.”
Xenia stifled a giggle. Not only did she know that Brandy would set a plate aside for her if she were detained. She also knew that Birch would not eat until he knew Xenia had finished her meal. He had seen her miss too many meals on the journey to California to ever see it happen again. She would never forget the man’s care and attention, whether she wanted it or not.
***
Xenia blinked as a pale gray light seeped around the corners of a covered port, the smell of the sea and the gentle rocking of the floor below her bringing her back to her situation.
Closing her eyes and stifling a groan she realized she was leaning against something warm and solid. Opening her eyes she slowly pulled back to look into the face of Birch Oakem as he slept.
When had she ended up next to him? The night before was a haze as the panic and worry of being trapped on a ship far from Wiggie had washed over her threatening to pull her under a sea of despair.
Birch and Barnaby had sat talking over their situation into the wee hours as above men hoisted sails and a brisk breeze carried them away from the docks of New York and the only home she had ever known.
How could anyone do this to their fellow man? she had wondered. What kind of scoundrels could kidnap someone and conscript them into service?
Slowly it dawned on her that Birch had opened his eyes and was looking down at her. He had a strong arm wrapped around her protectively and though she hated to admit it she appreciated the warmth it offered.
Other than the clothes on their backs, the meager belongings of Barnaby, and her dress, now buried in the straw, they had nothing with which to cover themselves, and the chill night air of the ocean seeped into their bones.
“Good morning,” Birch said, his deep voice rolling over her and easing some of the worry in her heart.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Xenia said trying to sit up, but his arm was snug around her, and she couldn’t move.
“Don’t be,” he said his gray eyes somehow still full of humor as he relinquished his hold. “We’ll have to find some way to keep warm until they give us a
place to sleep.”
In the far corner Barnaby snorted. “That’ll be soon enough,” he called. “They’ll maybe give us another day before we get to choose work or starvation.”
“That’s terrible,” Xenia said sitting up straighter and sagging as her dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders.
“Gonna ‘ave to do somethin’ about that too,” Barnaby added nodding in her direction.
“What?” Xenia said pulling her inky tresses over a shoulder and smoothing them straight.
Birch reached over and lifted a lock of her silky hair. What he would have given to meet this girl in other circumstances. “He’s right,” he said looking into the narrow face and bright green eyes of the girl. “It has to go.”
Xenia’s hands trembled and her eyes grew wide. She hadn’t thought of that. If they were going to pull off the ruse she had no choice.
Swallowing hard she nodded pushing her hair reluctantly over her shoulder and turning her back to Birch.
“Best let me,” Barnaby said grabbing his bag and pulling out a tiny pair of scissors. “It’s all I gots,” he added his eyes apologetic.
Xenia lifted her chin and nodded again, closing her eyes as the little scissors began painfully nibbling at the hair on her neck.
Birch watched the young woman set her face with determination while Barnaby painstakingly cut away the lush black tresses as they fell into his own hands.
The length of them was like watered silk between his fingers, and any young woman would have given a great deal to have such luxurious locks.
Carefully Birch collected the hair smoothing it on his lap as Barnaby worked. The cut was a little ragged and close to the girl’s milky neck but it would do. Most ship’s captains and crew didn’t look that closely at free labor as long as they worked.
“Here,” Barnaby called a few seconds later as he rummaged in his pack. “Stuff it in here, no one will notice.”
Xenia watched, a single tear trickling down her cheek, as Birch carefully stuffed the tiny pillowcase with her hair, and Barnaby sewed it shut.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve done this before,” Birch commented.
Barnaby shrugged. “I got myself snagged near unto twenty years ago now,” the older man said. “Been on the sea ever since,” he finished with a shrug.
“Why didn’t you sign on with a paying crew then?” Birch asked trying to ignore the tear on Xenia’s cheek that tugged at his heart.
“Didn’t get no chance now did I,” Barnaby grumbled. “Them fellas up above grabbed me before I could make it to a dock master.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Xenia blurted making both men look at her as she dashed away any traces of chagrin. “I don’t mean I’m glad you got caught up in this mess, but if you weren’t here, I’d probably be much worse off.”
“True that, little miss,” Barnaby said. “You’d best stick close to me and this fancy pants much as you can.”
Birch looked down at his rumpled suit and nodded. “Don’t let these duds fool you old man,” he said with a lopsided grin. “My pa owns a big ranch out west and sent me to the city on business, that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work.”
“Maybe you know how to work,” Barnaby mused. “That don’t mean you know ‘bout work on a boat.”
Birch met the older man’s dark eyes. “I guess I’ll have to learn then.”
“Reckon you will,” Barnaby agreed. “Maybe we can get you some easy jobs if we try,” he added looking at Xenia.
The rattle of the lock made them all look up and two men stepped inside with a small crate full of food.
“Best eat up,” one surly looking man said. “Tomorrow you’ll find out what real work is.”
The second man dropped a jug on the floor and together they left locking the door behind them.
Xenia scrabbled to the food and scowled at the items in the box. “This looks disgusting,” she said lifting a biscuit that was more like a rock.
Barnaby made his way to the box and pulled out three wooden boards setting them in the straw, placing a biscuit like item on each one and uncorking the jug before dribbling a little of the liquid over the top.
Next he pulled a bit of tough looking meat from a bucket. “Could be worse,” he mused handing off a plate to Birch and Xenia.
Xenia watched Barnaby prepare the meal and looked down at her board with a grimace.
“It’s food,” the older man shrugged tearing into the meat and washing it down with a swig of whatever was in the jug. “Least ways it don’t have no bugs yet.”
Xenia looked over at Birch and did her best to choke down the unpalatable food.
“Here, this helps,” Barnaby said handing her the jug.
Xenia placed her lips on rim tipping back the jug spluttering and coughing as the first swig of aging apple cider hit her throat.
“You’ll get used to it,” Barnaby said with a laugh.
Birch took the jug from Xenia his gray eyes laughing as he tipped back the drink with a satisfying smack.
“Once we get out of here,” he said looking at the solid door, “you can cut it with water.”
“Just don’t drink the water straight,” Barnaby added. “If you’re lucky you’ll only get sick.”
“What if I’m not lucky?” Xenia asked her green eyes wide.
“A burial at sea’s kinda perty,” the old man shrugged.
Chapter 5
“Honey, are you feeling alright?” Birch reached over touching Xenia’s hand and snapping her back to the present. Dinner had been delicious once again, and they’d retired to the front porch with their coffee and pie.
“I’m alright,” Xenia smiled. “I was thinking about our first days on the ship.”
Birch smiled. “Happy memories then,” he teased.
“I was remembering the food,” Xenia said with a scowl.
Birch smiled. “It was a bit of a shock even for me when we first set sail.”
“Always is,” Barnaby said shifting in his rocking chair. “I can’t say as I miss it,” he added looking over at Brandy and offering a nod.
“Have you written to George yet?” Birch asked. “We’ve got three men already looking for a change.”
“Yes,” Xenia replied. “I sent a letter to George today and included the letters each of the sailors have written so far that explain what they’d like to do. Hopefully we’ll hear something soon”
“I wonder what kind of work he’ll find for them?” Birch said. “My father has been wonderful at helping us with the school, but we can’t afford to have more than seven or eight men here at the same time, and we’re over that now most nights.”
“I know,” Xenia said. “There are so many more who need our help. I don’t have a problem with anyone choosing a life on the sea,” she continued looking at Barnaby. “I just want to know that anyone who wants to do something else will have the chance.”
Birch reached over and took Xenia’s hand. “Your plan has worked well so far,” he said. “You’ve given a lot of men without any other skills a chance at a new life, and now with Pastor George as an ally we can do more.”
Xenia smiled. “You don’t think we’ll have any trouble with some of the ‘recruiters’ do you?” They’d long ago dubbed the men who shanghaied others ‘recruiters’ instead of using the standard term crimps.
“We haven’t had any trouble yet, but so far we’ve only moved a handful of men. When these groups with more specialized skills go missing things could be different.”
“Far as I’m concerned you and Pastor George is doing God’s work,” Barnaby spoke up. “I didn’t never get no choice in my livin’ once I was pulled on to my first ship. Traveled the world but never had no life, nor family.”
Xenia looked at their friend and constant companion, her eyes soft. He’d been their saving grace on that voyage long ago.
“I can’t say I didn’t have some adventures, nor that I didn’t enjoy life on the sea. I’m just sayin’ no on
e asked what I wanted. It’s why I’m so happy to be here and to help. I know the look, I guess you could say, and when I see one of these fellas down at the docks who are searching for a change, I bring ‘em back here.”
Xenia patted the older man’s arm. “I’m glad you’re with us Barnaby,” she said. “You’re actually the reason I wanted to start this school. Men like you deserve the chance to decide their own fate.”
Barnaby smiled his craggy face shining. “You’re doin’ good work,” he said. “Real life saint’s in my book.”
Xenia laughed. “I’ve never been called that before,” she said with a grin. “I think Madam Wigg would have very different thoughts on the matter in fact.”
“Well you’re a saint in my book,” Barnaby said. “You don’t worry none about what’ll happen to you if you can help others.”
Birch squeezed Xenia’s hand. “We’re only doing what we think is right Barnaby, just like you did when we got tossed into that dingy cell in the hold that night.”
Brandy smiled at Barnaby. It was largely due to his encouragement that she’d come to work at the Sailor’s Rest School, and she was grateful.
“If I remember the tail correctly, you did your part as well,” Brandy commented as she stood and collected the now empty plates.
“Let me help you,” Xenia said starting to join her.
“No, you sit and rest. You work too hard as it is what with all them wharf rats you’re teachin’ along with the sailors. Them boys can been a handful.”
Xenia settled back into her chair lifting her face to the setting sun. Below them the sea whispered to the shore, its frothy waves rolling in and out as the tide ebbed and flowed.
Evenings were Xenia’s favorite times at the little house on the hill. They’d purchased the property with saved funds and shared resources, as well as a gift Birch’s father had given them.
The house was low and haphazard in its design, but with the many rooms that had been added over the years by the former owners, there was room for the sailors to spread out.