Caution to the Wind (9 page)

“The men show no untoward attention to the boy.” The doctor added, showing he understood at least some of Will’s concerns.

No untoward attention now, but Adam was clearly an innocent. Encouraging the men, however unintentionally, wouldn’t help his situation. Who knew when he would give the wrong idea to the wrong man?

Will’s long sigh did little to relieve the strain, but it did give him an opportunity to consider another possibility. Perhaps this was simply a phase Adam was going through. In time, he might add some weight to his slight frame, lose the roundness of his features, and learn to stop blushing like a maid whenever he became nervous. If he could just protect Adam through this awkward time in his life, the boy would learn to fend for himself.

But how long would this phase last? Will had never experienced anything even remotely similar so he had no way of knowing.

“Doctor, do you think Adam is, well, developing normally?”

“As a sailor, you mean?”

“No, no,” Will waved his hand then tucked it back in the crook of his arm. “I mean as a man. He’s a bit...underdeveloped, don’t you think?”

“Underdeveloped?” the doctor repeated.

“Yes. The boy has no noticeable muscle, no facial hair and skin that looks as soft as a baby’s. Don’t you think he’s a bit too...pretty for a man?” Will snorted. “I’ve met women who were less enticing.”

“Ahh,” the doctor said with that irritating tone that all doctors used when they thought they had their patients figured out. “You think he’s enticing?”

“Well...you know...interesting.” Will paused, realizing that he might be giving Doctor Miller the wrong impression. “Not to me, of course. But I do wonder the affect that such an attractive boy might have on the rest of the men. Not all men have such leanings, of course, but sailors can be at sea for months at a time with no woman in sight.”

“Thanks to your rule,” the doctor reminded him.

“It’s for the good of the ship.” Will shot back. “How would I ever get the men to work as they do if I allowed women aboard ship?”

“Perhaps women would give the men a reason to work hard, finish their duties in record time, even fight harder to save the ship if it came to that.” Doctor Miller’s chair squeaked as he sat forward. “And perhaps if you allowed wives and sweethearts aboard, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about boys like Adam.”

Will gave the doctor a lopsided smile. “Have you seen some of the women the men leave behind? An attractive boy like Adam would still need to watch his back.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, I’m not attracted to him,” Will said, realizing the doctor had misunderstood him again.

The doctor nodded but said nothing.

Will remembered how the touch of the boy’s thumb on his cheek had sent a ripple of pleasure coursing through him. For one horrifying moment, he had contemplated the softness of the boy’s lips.

He checked the shudder that ran through him. He would never have acted on the impulse. He had simply been taken aback by the boy’s overt femininity, but he had come to his senses soon enough. Anyone might have had the same reaction. Will’s stomach added another knot. That was precisely the problem. The boy was too damn feminine to serve on a ship full of men.

“The boy is just too pretty for his own good, Doctor.”

“Ahh,” the doctor said again, the sound grating on Will’s nerves. The doctor’s grin didn’t sit much better with him. Doctor Miller and several of the men had been witness to Will’s confrontation with Adam. Had they noticed his reaction?

“How old do you think he is?” Will asked, eager to keep the focus on Adam.

If Adam weren’t of age, there was the hope that his youth would throw off any men intent on using the boy for their own purulent amusements. He knew some captains looked the other way, but he had always agreed with those who thought men who preyed on younger boys should be strung up by their—

“I don’t really know. Fourteen? Maybe fifteen?” the doctor said. “Bull usually records that in the logbook for all ship’s boys, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, but for some reason he did not this time.”

“And you’re concerned he might be too much of an innocent to fend for himself?”

“Yes,” Will agreed, relieved the doctor finally understood.

“Captain, it’s clear you’ve developed an affection for the boy. I wouldn’t worry about it though. It’s only natural when you spend that much time around someone.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Will said.

“As for your other
feelings
, I wouldn’t worry about those either.”

Will pulled away from the wall. “But you misunderstand me, Doctor—”

Doctor Miller raised his hand. “It’s quite possible you’re simply responding to the boy’s natural inclinations.”

“If those are the boy’s natural inclinations,” Will ground the words out, “don’t you think he’s in danger on a ship full of men? There’s always the possibility that someone will try to take advantage of him.”

He was in no mood to defend himself. He had no
need
to defend himself. His concern was for the rest of his ship and for Adam.

“Would you prefer it if Adam were a woman?”

“Naturally I would prefer it if Adam were a woman. If Adam were a woman, he wouldn’t be on my ship in the first place. And if, somehow, he managed to get onto my ship, I would toss him, or rather her, off at the next port.”

The doctor looked almost horrified at the thought, and Will drew breath to calm his outrage at the very idea of a woman on his ship. “It is a moot point, Doctor. Adam is what he is, and whether you or I would prefer him to be different is of no matter.”

“No, I suppose not.” The doctor gave him an enigmatic smile. “At any rate, my professional recommendation is to keep a watchful eye on the boy and be sure he comes to no harm. I am certain, in time, the situation will work itself out.”

A knot tightened in Will’s gut. Time was perhaps the best cure, but it might also be the most painful.

Chapter Six

Amanda discovered Neil at the bulwark, a book propped open before him, peering at the coastline in the pre-dawn light. The ship lay at anchor, having picked up supplies the day before. Bull and Buck had gone ashore to recruit more men to replace the seasoned sailors assigned to sail their latest capture to the prize court in Boston.

Sounds of snoring rumbled up through the minute crevices where the oakum had worn away between the planking. A sudden, powerful snort tickled the bottom of Amanda’s feet through the soft leather shoes she wore.

With only the night watch on duty, the deck stood nearly empty. Amanda waved “good morning” to Nathan, the young sailor standing watch on the platform some forty feet above her head. He returned her greeting. Even in the dim light, she could see the young man’s cheerful smile.

The ever-present lapping of waves against the hull of the ship and the soft creaking of her timbers lulled Amanda into a peaceful stupor. She leaned against the bulwark, twenty feet or so from where her brother stood, to savor a precious moment of solitude.

“Hey, Mandy!” Neil called out, his voice reverberating off the morning air, thick with dew.

Amanda shot a glance about her to see if anyone else might have caught the nickname only Neil used.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, we’re fine.” Neil rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the shoreline. Dawn had lit the haze lingering amidst the craggy beaches and rocky promontories with a soft glow. “Nate and I are the only ones on duty right now, and he can’t hear us from up there.”

Amanda pushed her anxiety to the side. She hadn’t spoken to Neil in what felt like forever, and she missed her brother. She joined him at the rail. Crossing her arms atop the rough wooden surface of the bulwark that ran the perimeter of the ship, she leaned forward and rested her chin against them. For several moments, she gazed down at the mist skimming the surface of the water. Spiraling tendrils of vapor danced and then disappeared like fairies of the deep.

She breathed remnants of cool misty morning air, letting it fill her nose and escape through open lips.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Neil asked, sparing her a quick glance before turning back to his book. He flipped a few pages. “Smells much better than the farm, anyway.” He traced an outline on a page with his finger.

“Mmmm.” Amanda had never minded the musty smell of animals, but much preferred the fresh, clean scent of the sea.

She propped the tips of her toes against the bulwark and, grasping the top beam, leaned back, rear end first. She twisted this way and that. Her spine creaked and popped. The last battle had seen numerous injuries. None life threatening, but she had helped more than one hefty sailor into the operating room. She was growing stronger by the day, but some days tested her limits.

Stretching the knots from her muscles, Amanda watched her brother’s eager fingers flip the pages of the book. He lifted his face to the jagged coastline, and despite his boyish countenance, she could see the man he was becoming.

Was it selfish for her to long for their relationship to return to its former terms? Neil was turning from a willful boy into a reliable young man. Without a doubt, much of the credit belonged to Captain Stoakes. Somehow, he had known how to give her brother just the right mix of instruction and encouragement, of discipline and freedom. She had never managed to master that recipe. Soon, perhaps even now, her brother would no longer need her.

Amanda raised her eyes to watch the gulls dart in and out of unseen nests along the rocky shore. Distance and the morning breeze softened their plaintive cries. Did they think about the future? They had homes among the cliffs, plenty to eat, and each day played out much like the last. She, on the other hand, had no idea what her future held.

She couldn’t very well remain a sailor. Although she had done a credible job fooling a ship of sixty men, she couldn’t keep it up forever. Once Neil no longer needed her, there was no reason to stay.

Sadness fell like a fog over the beauty of the morning. The men of the
Amanda
had become her family...Cookie, Bull, Buck, every one of her shipmates. Of course, they weren’t the only ones she’d miss. Sadness turned to despair, though Amanda was at a loss to understand the ache that settled in her heart.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Captain Stoakes sitting at his desk, his quill scratching across a piece of parchment. Nigh on three times a day for the past several weeks she had come upon him this way, the captain working diligently at whatever kept the commander of a successful privateer occupied while she brought him the tray of food that kept him content.

Her heart skipped a beat, just as it always did when she encountered him. Walking into his quarters felt much like walking into the den of a wild animal. Over time, however, apprehension turned into a sort of reckless enjoyment. She would set the tray on the corner of his desk, lift the cover off his meal, then stand off to the side, watching for that moment when the tantalizing aroma pulled him from his work. He shoved his papers aside and reached for the tray, and a sense of satisfaction warmed her.

In her imagination, he was without his neck stock and wool jacket. His muscles rippled beneath the finally woven silk of his snow-white shirt when he added more butter to his toast, then took a bite. A drop of melted gold clung to the corner of his mouth. Amanda licked her lips when his tongue darted out to catch it.

The captain reached up and tugged at the strings that held his shirt closed. The soft fabric fell away to reveal a broad chest, tanned, with a smattering of curls as dark as his hair. The urge to touch him, to dip her hands beneath the silk folds, to run her fingers over the broad mounds of his pectoral made her palms ache.

He looked up from his half-eaten breakfast, and his golden eyes burned like embers. Everywhere he looked, her skin quivered as though his gaze were a physical touch. The heat seemed to suck the air from the room, and her breath came in short quick gasps. The hunger in his eyes beckoned and pulled, urging her forward until she had no recourse but to obey.

She rounded the corner of his desk, and he rose to his feet. She walked forward until the tips of her soft leather shoes brushed the tips of his boots. She raised her chin. His golden eyes darkened to amber with a need so deep it made her breath catch in her throat. Emboldened, she slid her palms up his chest and over his shoulders. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened when she ran her hands up the side of his neck.

Running her hands around to the nape of his neck, Amanda tugged at the leather thong that held his queue. It came off easily and his dark curls fell to her shoulders. She buried her hands in the dark mass, and leaned in until she could smell the sweet scent of butter on his lips.

The captain dipped his head to


“How’s Captain Stoakes?” Neil asked.

Amanda jumped at the intrusion into her private thoughts, daydreams so far removed from reality she wondered if they didn’t indicate an addled mind. She gave her little brother a sidelong look, reminding herself that he was not a mind reader. Neil alternated his attention between the coastline and his book, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

“He’s doing well, I’m sure,” she replied, her tone cold.

She could tell by the casual way he asked the question, as though just passing time, that he had a point to make. That it involved the captain, the subject of her intensely sensual daydreams, didn’t bode well.

“You see him several times a day, don’t you?” Neil thumbed a couple of pages.

“Yes, I do, but only to bring him his meals,” Amanda said. “I don’t ask after his health or state of mind.”

She did actually, but Neil didn’t need to know that. Besides, the captain never told her much. Whenever she greeted him, he gave her a startled look, then indicated where to set the tray down, usually with a grunt or a wave of his hand. He’d go back to work until the scent of a cooked meal reminded him of his hunger. Even then, he generally ignored her until she left. Her thrice-daily encounters were far less satisfactory than the one she had just imagined. Once, when she had tried unsuccessfully to engage him in conversation, she had heard him sigh just before she closed his door. The small sound carried an unmistakable note of relief, as though he were happy to see her go.