by Tifani Clark
CHAPTER 8
Spring and Fall of 1887
Virginia
Sophia Goodwin was a good girl, but those who knew her often felt sorry for her. She was a girl trapped by life’s circumstances—an honest girl born to parents who devoted their lives to trickery and deceit. They treated her as a servant rather than their own flesh and blood. People who knew—or knew of—the family would often ignore the parents and only greet Sophia. She never had nice clothes to wear, but she kept herself clean and always wore the most radiant of smiles. Her polite, gentle way of speaking endeared her to everyone.
Just like she did every morning, Sophia trudged along the path to the well at the back of their parcel of land. It was her duty to collect the day’s water. She was a strong girl, but it was quite a task even for her. She filled the two large buckets, hauling the water up from the hole in the ground like she’d done hundreds of times before. Then she attached the buckets to a yoke which she carried across the back of her shoulders. It was always a long walk back to the house as she strained under the weight.
On that particular morning, Sophia was in an especially pleasant mood. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the wildflowers were beginning to blossom in an array of colors throughout the meadows. She stopped to pick a bouquet of those flowers and tucked them into the front pocket of her apron before she headed back with the water. She would most likely be lectured for taking too long, but she didn’t care. Spring was her favorite time of year. It held the promise of new beginnings and new possibilities.
Just as she stooped to again pick up the heavy yoke, a young male voice called out. “Let me get that for you, miss.”
Startled, she jumped back, almost knocking one of the buckets over in the process. She looked up and found herself staring into the most beautiful cobalt blue eyes she’d ever seen. The eyes were set into the handsome, chiseled face of a boy who was hovering on the verge of manhood. His beautiful face was attached to a body that was strong and toned, probably from years of hard work.
Sophia’s heart fluttered and her hand involuntarily went to her cheek. She knew she was blushing.
“You startled me, sir,” she said.
He reached up and took his hat off, running his hand through his dark brown hair. “I do apologize, miss. I thought it was better to make my presence known than to continue to lurk in the trees. I didn’t want to interrupt your beautiful singing.”
Sophia hadn’t even realized that she was singing.
“My name’s Nicholas Trenton,” he said, extending a hand to Sophia.
Her hand trembled as she reached out and shook his. She could feel her entire body tingle as soon as their palms touched.
“Sophia Goodwin,” she finally managed to say.
“Are you by any chance related to Jeremiah Goodwin? I was hired as his new apprentice.”
Sophia rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. “He’s my father.”
If there was one thing Sophia knew about her father, it was that he was always in the middle of some elaborate scheme to con someone. It was out of his realm of possibility to try to make an honest living. For as long as she could remember they had moved from place to place, and he had moved from trade to trade, always claiming to be an expert at whatever new thing he started. At first meeting, he was fun and jubilant—a man that people felt they could trust fully. They never saw the con coming until they were slapped in the face by it and Jeremiah and his family were long gone. Two years ago he had purchased a plot of land on the coast of the James River near Newport News, Virginia. The James River led to the Chesapeake Bay and out into the open Atlantic Ocean. Sophia loved it. She had hoped that the purchase by her father meant he had changed his ways and wanted to put down permanent roots. What could he possibly need an apprentice for? The man was a jack-of-all-trades, master of none.
“What will you be doing for my father, Mr. Trenton?” she asked curiously.
“He’ll be teaching me everything he knows about ship building, of course.”
Sophia laughed out loud. The poor young man had no idea what he was getting into. Her father was delusional if he honestly thought he could build a ship. Her father’s father and his father and his father had all been seafaring men. For generations they had been integral in the slave trade industry. By the time Sophia’s great grandfather took over the family business, they owned an entire fleet of ships and would sail them from Africa to the southern United States and all over the Caribbean. The products being shipped had changed in the last century, but the business was still hanging in there when Jeremiah’s father took over. However, within a few years of taking the helm of the business, Jeremiah had completely run it into the ground. The man had no idea what he was doing and wasn’t willing to spend the time it took to properly get anything done correctly. He was selfish and only wanted to participate in activities that would directly benefit him. He lived for instant gratification.
When Sophia was just a little girl, maybe five or six, he lost his last ship, the Aurabelle, when it was taken to pay off old debts. A huge shipyard was under construction in Newport News and the railroad had recently been completed in the area so it was a prime location for an attempt at returning to his old “career.” The sea was in the Goodwin blood and Sophia knew that her father itched to get back into the shipping business, but building his own was ludicrous. Ship building? Really, Pa?
“Follow me and I will take you to my father.” Every fiber of Sophia’s being prodded her to tell Nicholas to run and never look back, but the thought of not getting to look at his beautiful face again made her keep her mouth shut.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, smiling. “You lead my horse and I will carry this load of water for you.”
He was a gentleman, too? He couldn’t be more perfect. “I will take that deal,” Sophia said, smiling back at him.
As they approached the house at the top of the gentle slope, the back door opened and Sophia’s mother came out, yelling about Sophia being lazy and slow before she even looked up. When she finally realized Sophia was not alone, her countenance abruptly changed and she slapped on a phony smile.
In her sickeningly sweet voice she cooed, “Aww . . . you brought company for breakfast, my sweet Sophia.”
“Mother, this is Nicholas Trenton, Father’s new apprentice. He’s here to help Father build his ship.” The words came out roughly and her eyes bored into her mother, asking a million silent questions.
“Oh. Of course. Come on in. I’m Jeremiah’s wife, Elsa. I’m sure he will be delighted to know that you’ve arrived.”
Jeremiah rose from the breakfast table when they entered the room and quickly shook hands with Nicholas. He wasted no time turning on the charm and his new apprentice was soon laughing as Jeremiah recounted tales of life at sea. Sophia didn’t know whether there was even a semblance of truth in any of the stories, but she loved the sound of Nicholas’s laughter so for once she wasn’t embarrassed by her father’s lies. Even Nicholas’s beautiful blue eyes sparkled when he laughed.
Nicholas told of his family and how he came to be looking for an apprenticeship. His father had lost his legs while fighting for the Confederacy during the war. After living as a bedridden invalid for many years, he finally succumbed to his injuries and died when Nicholas was just a baby. Nicholas’s Mother and older sister had recently contracted tuberculosis and had both passed on. He found himself orphaned and alone at the age of seventeen and badly in need of steady work.
At length, Jeremiah pushed his chair away from the table. Sophia knew that it was her cue to begin gathering the breakfast dishes and to get on with the morning chores.
“Come on, Nicholas, my boy, I’ll show you to your living quarters and then we can get in an honest day’s work,” Jeremiah said.
Sophia laughed to herself at that remark. Father didn’t know the meaning of honest, but the part that stood out most was the part about Nicholas staying with them indefinitely. That spring was full of all kinds o
f possibilities.