Read Online HT02 - Sing: A Novel of Colorado by Lisa T. Bergren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa T. Bergren
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lowly.
Did the captain intend him to stay aboard ship for the length of the entire voyage?
Nic’d go mad if that was the case. Even now, he found himself pacing like a caged cougar, back and forth atop the deck on watch—but more on his own hopeless watch than any serious care for the Mirabella . And why did the captain not head for port himself? Terence had shoved off with William, but the captain stayed. Did he so love the sea that he—
The captain opened the door of the lantern, lit a bunt, and then closed the small glass door. He placed the bunt in the bowl of his pipe, sucked on the stem, trying to get the tobacco to light.
“Cap’n,” Nic said in surprise. Rarely was the man on deck when the first mate was not. But perhaps this was normal protocol in port.
The captain grunted and walked toward him. Nic stiffened as he leaned at the rail and puffed at his pipe for several minutes. The sweet smell of the tobacco wafted over them both. Nic inhaled, the smell casting him back to smoke-filled fighting rings, and further back, to his father and grandfather, who often used different tobaccos, particular favorites, to stuff their pipes. At last, the small man turned toward him in silent regard. “You hate me, don’t you, Dominic?”
“Hate?” He swallowed a laugh. Hate had become a tender word compared to what he felt for the man. Loathe? Abhor?
“It matters not,” the captain said, with a wave of his pipe. “Are you missing the ring? Please,” he gestured to the rail beside him, “take your ease for a moment, watchman.”
“Not until tonight,” Nic said. He eased his stance but did not lean on the rail as the captain did. “Up to now, I’ve been too tired to think of fighting.”
“And now?”
“Now, here, I feel the pull of it,” he admitted. “The ring.”
“And so if you were in port, now, you’d find a fight?”
“Or a willing woman,” Nic said evenly.
The captain grinned. “Sounds like you’re already a sailor to me.”
“A sailor by force,” he dared.
“Yes, well there is that. You lost me money, St. Clair. I intend to make it back in labor. Round the Horn with us and I’ll begin paying you.”
“And you think that is fair?” Nic sputtered. He could feel the heat rising up his neck, tension making his arm muscles taut. “To kidnap a man, force him to leave behind everything he owns? Should I work for everyone who made a poor bet on me? Perhaps there are some racehorses you can saddle and put to work in your stern too!”
“Fair enough,” said the captain in casual regard. “Keep in mind I could keep you aboard for the duration and pay you nothing for six months. This ship is my own kingdom, and I am free to do as I please within it. Consider it largesse, St. Clair, on my part, this offer.” He straightened, stared at Nic a moment, and then slowly turned to walk away.
Nic turned back to the rail, breathing rapidly through his nose, forcing himself not to run after the captain and tackle him to the ground, beat him.
“St. Clair?” called the captain.
He could do nothing more than raise his chin to mark the fact that he’d heard his captain call. To turn toward him would undoubtedly mean losing control.
“Life is not fair, St. Clair,” said the captain lowly. “Life is life.”
Reid Bannock accepted his funds from the begrudging banker in Cañon City, who clearly knew who he was and why he’d served time. It mattered little to Reid. He smiled at the banker and placed his hat atop his head again as his eyes met the blessed, clear spring sun outside.
Free. I’m a free man.
He stood there on the street of the small town, considering his options. A wise man would head far from here, take a new name, reinvent himself. A wise man would bury the past like a dead neighbor and move on to stake a new claim.
He remained there a long time, feeling the weight of his decision shift within him, like fluid in a jug, from one side to the other. It was powerful, the
Did the captain intend him to stay aboard ship for the length of the entire voyage?
Nic’d go mad if that was the case. Even now, he found himself pacing like a caged cougar, back and forth atop the deck on watch—but more on his own hopeless watch than any serious care for the Mirabella . And why did the captain not head for port himself? Terence had shoved off with William, but the captain stayed. Did he so love the sea that he—
The captain opened the door of the lantern, lit a bunt, and then closed the small glass door. He placed the bunt in the bowl of his pipe, sucked on the stem, trying to get the tobacco to light.
“Cap’n,” Nic said in surprise. Rarely was the man on deck when the first mate was not. But perhaps this was normal protocol in port.
The captain grunted and walked toward him. Nic stiffened as he leaned at the rail and puffed at his pipe for several minutes. The sweet smell of the tobacco wafted over them both. Nic inhaled, the smell casting him back to smoke-filled fighting rings, and further back, to his father and grandfather, who often used different tobaccos, particular favorites, to stuff their pipes. At last, the small man turned toward him in silent regard. “You hate me, don’t you, Dominic?”
“Hate?” He swallowed a laugh. Hate had become a tender word compared to what he felt for the man. Loathe? Abhor?
“It matters not,” the captain said, with a wave of his pipe. “Are you missing the ring? Please,” he gestured to the rail beside him, “take your ease for a moment, watchman.”
“Not until tonight,” Nic said. He eased his stance but did not lean on the rail as the captain did. “Up to now, I’ve been too tired to think of fighting.”
“And now?”
“Now, here, I feel the pull of it,” he admitted. “The ring.”
“And so if you were in port, now, you’d find a fight?”
“Or a willing woman,” Nic said evenly.
The captain grinned. “Sounds like you’re already a sailor to me.”
“A sailor by force,” he dared.
“Yes, well there is that. You lost me money, St. Clair. I intend to make it back in labor. Round the Horn with us and I’ll begin paying you.”
“And you think that is fair?” Nic sputtered. He could feel the heat rising up his neck, tension making his arm muscles taut. “To kidnap a man, force him to leave behind everything he owns? Should I work for everyone who made a poor bet on me? Perhaps there are some racehorses you can saddle and put to work in your stern too!”
“Fair enough,” said the captain in casual regard. “Keep in mind I could keep you aboard for the duration and pay you nothing for six months. This ship is my own kingdom, and I am free to do as I please within it. Consider it largesse, St. Clair, on my part, this offer.” He straightened, stared at Nic a moment, and then slowly turned to walk away.
Nic turned back to the rail, breathing rapidly through his nose, forcing himself not to run after the captain and tackle him to the ground, beat him.
“St. Clair?” called the captain.
He could do nothing more than raise his chin to mark the fact that he’d heard his captain call. To turn toward him would undoubtedly mean losing control.
“Life is not fair, St. Clair,” said the captain lowly. “Life is life.”
Reid Bannock accepted his funds from the begrudging banker in Cañon City, who clearly knew who he was and why he’d served time. It mattered little to Reid. He smiled at the banker and placed his hat atop his head again as his eyes met the blessed, clear spring sun outside.
Free. I’m a free man.
He stood there on the street of the small town, considering his options. A wise man would head far from here, take a new name, reinvent himself. A wise man would bury the past like a dead neighbor and move on to stake a new claim.
He remained there a long time, feeling the weight of his decision shift within him, like fluid in a jug, from one side to the other. It was powerful, the
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