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Authors: Anna Belfrage
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once saved Qaachow’s wife and son.
“I hope he is,” Alex said. “He and Thistledown; alive and very far away. And I hope they stay there.” Yes, please stay away, please don’t come back.
“It isn’t that easy. He might find his welcome cold among other Indian tribes – he might even be dead, killed in an Indian skirmish.”
Alex hitched her shoulders, ashamed of the relief that flowed through her at the thought of Qaachow dead. “Maybe you’re right, but I think he’s still alive. Somehow, I know he is.”
“If so, one day he’ll come for Samuel,” Matthew said in a low voice.
Alex gave him a black look. “Don’t remind me, and it wasn’t me that promised him our son for a year.” She was being unfair, she knew that. Matthew had not been in a position to refuse, but there were days when she was very angry with him for agreeing to Qaachow’s proposal that Samuel be raised into manhood with his son – as an Indian.
“Nay, and it wasn’t me that suckled Qaachow’s son at my breast, thereby making him and our Samuel foster brothers – at least in Qaachow’s eyes.”
“He would’ve died otherwise. What was I to do?”
“You did as you should.” He reached forward to brush an escaped lock of hair off her face. “And as to Samuel, it probably won’t happen. Qaachow might simply forget, or mayhap he’ll never come back.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. Qaachow didn’t strike her as a man that forgot.
Chapter 7
Jacob shouted with joy and ran from one side of the boat to the other, eagerly pointing at the dolphins that seemed to be racing the Regina Anne .
“Look!” he said to Captain Miles. “Look how fleet they are!”
“Aye, lad, I’ve seen dolphins before. And as I recall, you should be below deck, working with Iggy.”
Jacob made a face. To spend hour after hour in the galley had not been what he’d had in mind when he snuck aboard the Regina Anne , but after his initial surprise, Captain Miles had decided that, if the lad was on board, he was going to earn his keep and more, so Jacob swabbed decks and peeled turnips, polished the captain’s boots, kept the captain’s cabin neat, and in general was at the captain’s beck and call.
“I want to learn to sail,” Jacob grumbled, earning himself a neat clip on the head.
“You do as I say,” Captain Miles said.
“Put him on the night watch,” Smith suggested. “They’re good men, all of them, and you can count on Johnny to keep him in line.”
Jacob nodded eagerly. Aye, he’d do the night watch, and of course he’d still mind the goats and help Iggy in the galley, and—
“We’ll see,” Captain Miles said. “You’ll not be quite as light on your feet a week from now.”
The first few nights were mainly exciting. So much to learn and understand, and Jacob tagged after Johnny and repeated words and terms, tugged at ropes, retied knots, hoisted sails, took in sails, and scrambled up the rigging to free a corner that had caught. He kept his eyes firmly on the flapping white above him, because the single time he looked down he nearly fell, uncomfortably aware of how high up he was, and how difficult it was to make out the deck in the dark of the September night. He collapsed into his hammock just before dawn. For five hours, he slept like the dead, and then he was shaken awake and told to get himself down to the galley to help with the food.
By the end of the week, Jacob was cross-eyed with lack of sleep, but he wasn’t about to complain; not now that Johnny had clapped him on the shoulder and told him he had the makings of a fine sailor. Instead, he became adept at crawling away to hide during the afternoons, snatching the odd hour of sleep in the straw behind the goat pen, or in the narrow space beyond the forecastle.
He was ridiculously happy. He was on his way to see the world, and it didn’t matter that he hadn’t washed since he came on board, nor changed his clothes, that his hands were full of blisters, and
“I hope he is,” Alex said. “He and Thistledown; alive and very far away. And I hope they stay there.” Yes, please stay away, please don’t come back.
“It isn’t that easy. He might find his welcome cold among other Indian tribes – he might even be dead, killed in an Indian skirmish.”
Alex hitched her shoulders, ashamed of the relief that flowed through her at the thought of Qaachow dead. “Maybe you’re right, but I think he’s still alive. Somehow, I know he is.”
“If so, one day he’ll come for Samuel,” Matthew said in a low voice.
Alex gave him a black look. “Don’t remind me, and it wasn’t me that promised him our son for a year.” She was being unfair, she knew that. Matthew had not been in a position to refuse, but there were days when she was very angry with him for agreeing to Qaachow’s proposal that Samuel be raised into manhood with his son – as an Indian.
“Nay, and it wasn’t me that suckled Qaachow’s son at my breast, thereby making him and our Samuel foster brothers – at least in Qaachow’s eyes.”
“He would’ve died otherwise. What was I to do?”
“You did as you should.” He reached forward to brush an escaped lock of hair off her face. “And as to Samuel, it probably won’t happen. Qaachow might simply forget, or mayhap he’ll never come back.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. Qaachow didn’t strike her as a man that forgot.
Chapter 7
Jacob shouted with joy and ran from one side of the boat to the other, eagerly pointing at the dolphins that seemed to be racing the Regina Anne .
“Look!” he said to Captain Miles. “Look how fleet they are!”
“Aye, lad, I’ve seen dolphins before. And as I recall, you should be below deck, working with Iggy.”
Jacob made a face. To spend hour after hour in the galley had not been what he’d had in mind when he snuck aboard the Regina Anne , but after his initial surprise, Captain Miles had decided that, if the lad was on board, he was going to earn his keep and more, so Jacob swabbed decks and peeled turnips, polished the captain’s boots, kept the captain’s cabin neat, and in general was at the captain’s beck and call.
“I want to learn to sail,” Jacob grumbled, earning himself a neat clip on the head.
“You do as I say,” Captain Miles said.
“Put him on the night watch,” Smith suggested. “They’re good men, all of them, and you can count on Johnny to keep him in line.”
Jacob nodded eagerly. Aye, he’d do the night watch, and of course he’d still mind the goats and help Iggy in the galley, and—
“We’ll see,” Captain Miles said. “You’ll not be quite as light on your feet a week from now.”
The first few nights were mainly exciting. So much to learn and understand, and Jacob tagged after Johnny and repeated words and terms, tugged at ropes, retied knots, hoisted sails, took in sails, and scrambled up the rigging to free a corner that had caught. He kept his eyes firmly on the flapping white above him, because the single time he looked down he nearly fell, uncomfortably aware of how high up he was, and how difficult it was to make out the deck in the dark of the September night. He collapsed into his hammock just before dawn. For five hours, he slept like the dead, and then he was shaken awake and told to get himself down to the galley to help with the food.
By the end of the week, Jacob was cross-eyed with lack of sleep, but he wasn’t about to complain; not now that Johnny had clapped him on the shoulder and told him he had the makings of a fine sailor. Instead, he became adept at crawling away to hide during the afternoons, snatching the odd hour of sleep in the straw behind the goat pen, or in the narrow space beyond the forecastle.
He was ridiculously happy. He was on his way to see the world, and it didn’t matter that he hadn’t washed since he came on board, nor changed his clothes, that his hands were full of blisters, and
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