Beloved Castaway (24 page)

The fellow handed it down to a man waiting in the skiff. “With your permission, I’ll have my wife wash the seawater from it.”

“I’d be much obliged,” Josiah said with a dip of his head.
 

He spied Harrigan and strode toward him. “How fare the crew?”

“All are loaded that have not been lost.”

Next came the question he did not want to ask. “And the number of lost?”

“Only two thus far, both from down in Cookie’s domain.” He paused. “Honestly, Captain, I don’t know that they weren’t already gone. Cookie seems to think that’s the case.”

“I see.” He watched the men work to secure the items aboard the skiff. “Thank the Lord Isabelle and the others escaped that chamber unharmed.”

Silence.

Josiah glanced over at Harrigan and saw his old friend’s face go white. “What is it, man?”

“Captain?” This from the red-haired wrecker. “I’m Micah Tate, and I’m in charge of the rescue. I must insist we go. The vessel is on the verge of breaking apart, and I’ll not have it take my men down under with it.”

“Aye, one moment.” He reached for Harrigan’s shoulder and held on tight. “Tell me you’ve seen to Isabelle’s safe departure,” he shouted over the sound of the waves beating against the ship.

“I, that is, I think—”

The
Jude
’s hull ripped away and sent them all catapulting into the boiling sea. In short order, the wreckers had all who could be found loaded aboard the remaining skiffs.
 

“I won’t leave until I know Isabelle is safe!” Josiah shouted as he leaped from the vessel and scrambled aboard what was left of the
Jude
.
 

Refusing to heed their cries, Josiah fought his way up the precariously tilting deck to find a passageway that had not been blocked. Negotiating the narrow passageway proved nearly impossible, yet he continued, all the while calling Isabelle by name.

At one point, he thought he heard someone behind a closed door. When he opened it, seawater rushed in and nearly filled his lungs. He rose to the top coughing and spitting, only to find an overlarge fish that had been caught in the wreck had caused the commotion.

Bobbing to the top for air, he dove into the water and swam toward the place where his quarters had once been. When he emerged to get another breath, a hand plucked him out of the water and, with the help of several others, tossed him into a skiff.

Blinded by rage, Josiah swung his fist at the first thing that came near him. Thankfully, he missed, as the man was Harrigan. Somehow, the man had managed to injure himself, as blood covered a good bit of the right side of his face and dripped onto his shirt.

“You’re injured.”

“Get hold of yourself, Josiah,” he said. “It’s merely a scratch. Now, if Isabelle’s waiting for you on shore, I will be in much trouble should I fail to produce you.”

He sat back against the hull of the small boat and sucked in the fresh air. “Perhaps you’re right, Harrigan,” he said, “but if I should find she does not await me on the shore, I shall stop at nothing to fetch her.”

A short while later, the vessel knocked gently against a sandy beach. The wreckers poured out, then helped each passenger aboard to safety with practiced precision. Next came the items salvaged. Each was cataloged and numbered and sent off to a warehouse for safekeeping. Tomorrow the process of reclaiming the goods would begin.

As the
Jude
traveled uninsured and without cargo, the haul would be light and the process a simple one. Had he been carrying cargo, the paperwork would be tied up for months.

Josiah looked around the beach and saw men working together despite the weather. Several had rounded up the passengers and crew and now tallied up their names. By twos, they sent them off.

“Where are they going?” Josiah called.

Micah Tate loped over. “Wrecking’s all we do here on Fairweather Key,” he said, “so when we get a ship in, everyone in town helps to shelter them.” He grinned. “It’s a small island, so trust me: No one’s going anywhere far.”

Josiah spied William and headed toward him. The boy met him halfway to wrap drenched arms around him. “You’re safe,” his brother said against the skin of his neck.

Josiah held William at arm’s length. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emilie and the Dumont woman bustling toward him. “Aye, lad, I’m fit and fine, although the
Jude
is not. I fear we must await a new vessel before continuing the trip to England. I hope you’re not sore disappointed.”

“Begging your pardon, Captain.” Viola Dumont tugged at his soggy sleeve. “If I might, I would like a word with you.”

Were it not for the present circumstances, Josiah might have been stunned. This was more than the Dumont woman had spoken on the entire voyage.

“Perhaps I could take the boy and find a place for him to settle for the night,” Emilie said.

Josiah looked around and saw for the first time that the sun had begun to set. “Aye,” he said, “and I’ll be much in your debt if you’d see to some dry clothes for the lad.”

“There’s room at the boardinghouse as well as in the homes of these good men,” a female voice called. Josiah watched as a matronly woman hurried over to relieve Emilie of her burden. “I’ll put the boy in the wagon; then we must away to the boardinghouse. On a night like tonight, I am sure we will be full as ticks.”

Full as ticks. Lovely.

“Captain?”

He’d all but forgotten about Viola. “Aye?”

Her face wore an uncharacteristic look of determination, and her backbone seemed to have found its starch. “I’m bound and determined to fetch Isabelle and Mr. Banks from the
Jude
. Are you with me?”

“Oh, no, Miss Dumont,” he said as he led her away from the water’s edge. “You see, Mr. Banks was found early on in the rescue. I’m sure Isabelle was with him.”

Large eyes threatened to spill over with tears. “No, Captain,” she said, “neither has been located, and now the men are done for the night. I cannot let them sleep in the
Jude
alone or, worse, in the sea.”

“Then we shall find them together.” He strode over to a wrecker who had only just completed evacuating his vessel. “I have need of your skiff,” he said. “There are others aboard the
Jude
who must be rescued.”

“Sorry, fellow,” the man said, “but a thorough search has been done, and there’s no one left on that sinking tub.”

“Aye, that might well be,” Josiah said as he fought his rising anger. “Nonetheless, I have two people missing, and the only place they could be is out there.”

The wrecker studied Josiah a moment, then shrugged. “I would like to help you, but heading back out there now would be suicide. I don’t think my wife and children would appreciate me taking such a risk.”

“Then I shall.” He pushed past the wrecker, rage pounding in his temples. If the wreckers refused to help, then he would go it alone.
 

Josiah spied what looked like a small vessel on the beach a few yards ahead. With Viola Dumont shadowing him, he slipped away from the throng and set the rowboat in the water. The lady climbed in and reached for an oar.

“I shall do this alone, Miss Dumont,” he said. “I would suggest you help me look for bodies, or rather persons, in the water.”

Her mouth set in a grim line, Miss Dumont gave a curt nod, then held on tight. Josiah pushed the oars through the water until his arms burned while Miss Dumont scanned the waves and called for Isabelle.

After only a few minutes, the water had begun to lap over the sides of the tiny vessel while pieces of the
Jude
pounded it from all angles. Soon Miss Dumont had given up calling and began using any available means to return seawater back into the ocean.

Finally, Josiah knew he must turn back. They would never reach the
Jude
in this small vessel. His only hope—Isabelle and Banks’s only hope—was in convincing a wrecker to maneuver his skiff back in the direction of the sinking ship.

Only then could they ascertain the whereabouts of the missing passenger and crewman. Beaching the rowboat, he helped Miss Dumont out, then dragged the vessel back to its resting place. “Have you a plan, Captain Carter?”

He paused to shake his head. “Nothing more complicated than this: I will pluck all from the sea and return them safely to shore. As captain, I’ve no choice.”

Josiah looked toward the area where the wreckers had gathered. Fewer than a dozen crewmen lingered, and it appeared all had made arrangements for a dry place to sleep and a hot meal. Anchored nearby were the wrecking vessels, all of them sturdy and well maintained.

One particularly appealed. Dubbed the
Caroline
as witnessed by the placard on her port side, it sat squat and low in the ocean and looked to be the most reliable of the lot.

The decision whether to spirit away the vessel from under its owner’s nose was taken from him when the wreckers parted and joined the group leaving for town. “Go and catch up with them,” Josiah told Miss Dumont.

“I cannot. You’ll need me to help.”

He shook his head. “Should you not arrive at the boarding-house, you’ll be missed. I, on the other hand, will be assumed to have quartered elsewhere.” When she continued to look doubtful, he turned her on her heels and pointed her to the wreckers. “Make haste. Your friend’s life depends on it.”

“I shall pray, Captain,” she said before making her way toward the throng of men.
 

“As shall I,” Josiah said. And this time, he knew God would hear him.

A few moments later, the beach was empty, and Josiah had his choice of vessels. He climbed aboard the
Caroline
and set about turning her around and pointing her toward the sinking hulk of the
Jude
. Once he’d moved sufficiently far from the shore, Josiah lit the lantern and aimed it in the direction of the wreckage.

Pieces of the ship littered the water around him and formed a barrier through which it was difficult to navigate. The evidence floating around him seemed to show that when the men’s patch had not held, the hull had collapsed and splintered, such was the debris.

Were that he could have fetched Harrigan with him on this mission, but his friend had looked poorly when they had parted. Better Harrigan stayed behind and recuperated. As Josiah scanned the horizon, he said a prayer for the sailor’s restored health.

The farther from shore he traveled, the more difficult the going. He’d nearly reached the site of the wreck when a movement in the water caught his attention. Swinging the vessel starboard, he found a piece of wreckage with what looked like people floating atop it.

Let it be them, God. Please, let it be my Isabelle.

Cursing the cumbersome vessel, Josiah made his way to the wreckage. There he found Isabelle and Banks lying atop a piece of wood shorn off from the aft deck.

“Thank You, Lord,” he cried. “Now help me if You will to save these two.”

Joy turned to fear when he called to them but neither answered. Moving close as he could, Josiah tossed over the anchor and waited for it to catch. This accomplished, he kicked off his boots and dove in.

Due to the pull of the tide, he reached Banks first. Thank the Lord, the old sailor still clung to life. “See to the girl,” was his gruff response. “The Lord’s not ready for me yet, and the sharks are all afraid of me.”

“Aye, Banks,” Josiah said. “You’ll hold tight for me while I do, won’t you?”

“I believe I will,” he said as he rested his face on the wood.

Josiah offered Banks a gentle pat on the back, being careful to watch for wounds both old and new. “Once I’ve spoken to Isabelle, I shall fetch you both back to the boat.”

Maneuvering his way around to the other side of the floating rescue barge, Josiah finally held Isabelle in his arms. Water soaked every inch of her, and the braid she’d pinned into a coil had released and now tangled about her like honey-colored seaweed. Her dress had been torn, and one sleeve hung on only by the wrist.

Keeping a tight grip on the boards, Josiah pushed Isabelle’s hair away from her face and felt for a pulse on her neck. When he found it, Josiah yelped in victory.

“Isabelle, I will buy a dozen beautiful frocks if you will just live,” he said. “Nay, two dozen,” he amended when he upended her to see the bruises on her face.

Had he the time, he might have climbed aboard the pieces of the
Jude
that now cradled the woman who’d stolen his heart, for his only wish was to hold her safe against him. But time was not his friend, as witnessed by the waves that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment.

God, You’ve calmed the waves before. Would You considering repeating that miracle here?

As he saw to securing her atop the wreckage, Josiah watched for signs that Isabelle might awaken. He spoke to her as he worked, making promise after promise and declaring himself to be at her disposal for whatever she might need during the healing process.
 

“How do you fare?” he called to Banks once he’d satisfied himself that Isabelle was safe.

“I’m an old man who could barely hear all the things you just
told that lady, so worry not about me.” His chuckle, under other
circumstances, would have sent Josiah into a rage.

Now, however, with the first stars twinkling above them and all of Fairweather Key awaiting their return, he merely chuckled.
 

Reaching the
Caroline
was a more difficult prospect than he expected, so by the time he’d managed to lash the wreckage to the wrecker, he was nearly spent. The moon now climbed past the horizon, and more than a smattering of stars dotted the sky. The only sound other than the pounding of the surf was the creaking of wood against reef as the battered remnants of the
Jude
fought to remain above the waterline.

“Banks, can you hoist yourself over if I bring the wood near to the vessel?” Josiah called.

The sailor lifted up on one elbow to survey the situation. “Nay, Captain, but if you roll me alongside and give me a push, I can manage to find my way onto her deck.”