Constance: Bride of Florida (American Mail-Order Bride 27) (3 page)

She covered her mouth and backed away.

He reached a dirty hand toward her, grabbed her blouse, and pulled her to him. “I’ll take care of you, Angel.”

“Let the lass go.” An older man grasped him and limped between them. He threatened the brigand with a cane and soon, the nasty man left muttering a series of words that left her ears soiled.

Sobs thwarted her words. She wasn’t sure if she’d been saved from one man only to be taken by another.

Her rescuer stepped back. “What ya doing down here on the docks, Missy?”

She stared at him from his wooden leg to his bearded and weathered face.

“Ye can talk can’t ye?”

She pulled her satchel close to her and nodded. “Y-es. I have passage booked on
Journeys end.
”

The little man straightened. “
Journeys end?
Not sure that was a wise choice for such a slip of a girl. Follow me, lass. That’s me ship.” 

Even though he seemed nice, she kept away from him. What did he mean not a wise choice? Did E. Ferris know that when he booked her on the ship? Just what kind of man was he?

Someone pawed at her arm.

She hurried to get closer to the old man. She kept her mind on what was ahead and shrugged off the offender. Not saying a word, not acknowledging the crude advances of hardened men, she walked toward her goal.

“Tomorrow, it will be better. I will be on my way.” She pushed through crowds of rude men. Sure of only one thing, she would not be turned back from reaching the ship. After all, she had nowhere else to go.

Chapter 4

Constance stood in front of the tall ship. Seeing the vessel up close, she lost some of her excitement. Dingy almost brown sails hung limply from the mast. Men scurried about the deck, hopefully, to get the ship ready for the voyage. By her figuring, the way the old boat looked, it would take them a month.

Clutching the ticket in her hand, she pushed past her fears. This would work out. It had too. Surely, E. Ferris wouldn’t buy her passage on a ship he thought would sink. Then again, she didn’t know what kind of man he was. After seeing the ship he’d picked out, her golden confidence in him as a good man was turning to the same soiled color as the sails.

Closing her eyes, she searched for the courage she was supposed to have. Finding none, she opened them, looked around and followed the limping man who’d rescued her. He walked up a wide plank leading to the ship’s deck.

Her fear of heights joined with the doubts as her gaze slipped along the weathered sides of the ship to the name,
Journeys end.
She pulled her satchel in tight to her chest and took a step onto the plank. Then another. Halfway up, suspended between the rocking deck and the dirty, dock water, she stopped.

“Lady! Get out of the way!”

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looked up. A rugged man in a blue coat stood on the deck beside the top of the plank.

Curses exploded behind her.

She turned and saw a line of men carrying crates. Embarrassment shoved her fears away, and she practically ran up the plank.

The man in the blue coat grabbed her arm and helped her down to the deck of the ship. “Who are you?”

Her throat constricted and filled with spit. Afraid that if she could manage to speak she’d blast him with spray, she thrust the ticket into his chest.

He eyed her as if she were a lunatic but took the ticket and read it carefully. He rocked back on his heels and shook his head. “Miss Penny. Yes, this is the right ship. You’re a day early.”

Swallowing hard, she managed to clear her throat. She pointed at the ticket. “It does say I can come aboard a day before we sail.”

“I’m Captain Gordon. Welcome aboard. Although I’m not sure, you should be thanking this E. Ferris. It’s likely to be rough going most of the trip. We were to stop in Cuba for a week, but that’s been canceled so you’ll arrive in Apalachicola a week early.”

She flinched at the news. How would she find him?

“Stubby, show the lady to her cabin. It’s the one next to mine and off limits to everyone.”

The man who’d befriended her limped toward her. “Aye, Captain. This way, miss.”

Fears attacked her as she followed the man into the bowels of the ship. New doubts pummeled her. What had happened to Stubby’s leg? Sharks? Mad whales like in Moby Dick? Cannibals?

All her memories of being aboard a ship had been pleasant and fun. Well, except for Mother being sick, but most of what she remembered was playing and being free. Now? She was already scared of her own voice not to mention worrying about the boat sinking and being eaten by sharks or worse.

“Here you are, miss.” Stubby pointed to a small room.

She went inside. Small didn’t describe it. The bed, or more aptly the hammock, was on one side of the wall. Looking to the other, she saw where it must attach and become her bed for the night.

Stubby stayed at the door. “Captain said no one is to bother you. His cabin is just down the hall.” The old man must have noticed her fear because he smiled a toothless grin. “Don’t worry,
Journeys end
is as sound as they come. And she’s fitted with a new steam engine in case we need it. We’ll get you safely to Apalachicola. If you need anything, pull that cord and I’ll come see to your needs. Oh, and you can either eat in the galley or I’ll can bring your meals to you.”

“Thank you.” She marveled that she’d actually managed to speak without sounding like a mouse.

He shut the door and left her in the small room.

She went to the porthole by her swinging bed. At least, she would be able to see outside. She half wondered if the small windows on the other side were called starboardholes. Chuckling, she moved past her fears as excitement bubbled from up inside her. She would make this work. She turned from the porthole and went to the small dresser. She unloaded her few clothes and happened to stare into the mirror.

So pale. Even her hair was a faded red almost blond color. She stepped closer. When was the last time she’d looked at herself? Really looked and not just given herself a passing glance before she strode out the door.

Her eyes stood out. Green almost the shade that an ocean wave turns when caught in the sunlight. At least, she had pretty eyes. She glanced down at her form. There wasn’t much to her. No wonder she never had any suitors.

She sent a harried glance to the mirror. What if E. Ferris turned her away?

A loud knock on the door startled her.

“Is it true there’s a lady aboard?”

The harsh, gravelly voice was not that of Stubby or the captain.

Again, the intruder banged on her door. “Well, are you in there?”

She shuddered. His voice was neither friendly nor welcome. She backed away and then realized she’d not bolted the door.

She jumped for it just as it opened.

A man, older than the sea, stepped inside. He glared at her. White hair covered his head, a scraggly beard his face. “I wanted to see. Can’t believe the captain allowed it. A woman alone? Why ’tis disaster. Ship is liable to sink with a single woman aboard.”

Constance scooted away from him, backing until she ran into the wall.

Pointing his bony finger at her, he stepped in closer. “A Jonah is what you are. We best—”

“I am not!” She took a step toward him. “Get out of my room. The captain said no one was to bother me.” With a hand to her chest, she wondered what had overcome her. She’d never stood up for herself.

With a sneer, he backed out of her cabin.

She slammed the door after him and slid the bolt in place. Her heart thumped wildly. Why had that man been so mean to her? Yet, instead of her normal feelings of fear, she felt something else rising up inside her.

Courage? Perhaps she had found it.

Minutes later, a loud knock on her door chased away her bravery.

“Yes?” She cringed. Her mouse voice was back.

“It’s Captain Gordon. I was informed you had a particularly nasty run in with one of my old salts. He won’t bother you again. On a nicer note, a couple of others have booked passage on the ship. I wanted to invite you to dinner in my cabin tonight. Six bells.”

“I’ll be there.” Well, at least she hadn’t sounded completely sheepish. She heard the captain’s steps leave her door. She stared at the mirror and furrowed her brows. “You, Constance Penny, are going to find your courage and learn how to keep it on this voyage. Otherwise, E. Ferris is liable to buy you a ticket back to Boston.”

###

Drake left the store after everyone else. It had taken him all day to get the mess straightened out. After he left for the sea, Father was going to be in for a rude awakening. Edgar and Edwin were hopeless when it came to ordering and organizing, but when waiting on customers, they were great.

Maybe because they liked people
.

He shoved the accusation from his mind. Drake wanted the solitude of the sea. The excitement of adventure. When around others, he quickly tired of their boring conversations. He drew in a breath. More truthful to say that he avoided the company of others. He never felt at ease.

The moon shone bright. What he wouldn’t give to be on the ocean and under the sails of
The Sea Wind
. But he wasn’t. Instead, he was on land, lashed to Ferris and Sons, and doomed to a marriage he really didn’t want.

What a fool.  He should’ve left years ago, but he’d never felt as if it was the right time to go. Either Father, Mother, or his brothers needed him.

When was he going to be able to live for himself? Soon, he hoped. Constance Penny would come. He’d marry her and gain his freedom. A nagging worry began to beat inside his head. What if she tried to prevent him from leaving? He’d not considered her as someone capable of foiling his plans.

After all, for a woman to answer an ad in a newspaper to look for a husband, she had to be at the end of her hope. He was her answer. For what? Certainly not love. Mail-order brides weren’t about love. Security. He would give her that. He never intended to be part of the bargain.

He walked along the street and slowed as he came to the park. He spotted Edgar and a woman. Must be his Tess. Drake had no intentions of being drawn into meeting her. Not now. He skirted under the shadows of a tree and stopped to watch his brother.

Edgar sat close to her, holding her hand. Their heads were together, and they were probably muttering the sickening sweet things lovers say to one another.

Drake thought back to Emerald Burns. She was a beauty. One time he thought he might love her, but when he jumped at the chance to sail for a summer on
The Sea Wind
, she left him.

She’d shuffled her love onto Bill Wiseman and married him not a year later. Seems women and their affections were as fickle as a ship on an October sea. His thoughts drifted to Constance Penny.

He’d bought her passage on an older sailing vessel during October. Regret chipped at the hard shell he’d put around his heart. He shouldn’t have done that. She hadn’t done anything to him but answer the ad.

After a quick look back at his brother and witnessing them kiss, Drake left the park. He trotted across the street and blended in with the shadows of the widow McCreedy’s shrubs. She’d lost her husband to the sea. Even now, some twenty years later, he would catch her on the outer banks watching the waves.

She’d never remarried. One summer, Drake had taken care of her yard for her. Though he’d thought she was a sad woman, he remembered her laughter and the fun lunches they’d had out by the sea.

Her husband had been a fisherman. A sudden squall swallowed his ship drowning all on board. She didn’t talk about his dying but about his love for the sea. She’d get sad, look at the waves lapping the shore, and then with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes, she’d pick up the picnic basket and race him back to her house.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Why did he run from others? It was as if he never wanted to really care about anyone else or more aptly to have anyone care about him. Why? His brothers didn’t seem to have a problem. They were popular and always going to parties and on dates.

For some reason, Edgar’s coming engagement had rattled him. And here, Drake had a woman coming from Boston to supposedly marry him. He shrugged off the morose mood and walked home at a brisk pace. Mother wouldn’t be happy that she’d had to hold dinner for him. He took the stairs to the porch two at a time and put a smile on his face.

Too often, he’d come home only to have her frown at seeing him. She always called him her moody son. Not tonight. He was determined to be happy. After all, he was about to get his freedom and all his dreams fulfilled.

He opened the door and nearly ran into Edwin. Drake put a hand out to hold his brother. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Have a date?”

Edwin shook his head. “It’s Mother.” He started to say more, but instead, rushed past him and ran down the steps.

Drake’s heart stalled. Not Mother. She was the one person he was close to. The one person he allowed inside his heart. He ran down the hall and skidded to a stop at her bedroom. Father was sitting beside her and reading from the Bible. He looked up, his face a mixture fear and relief.

“She’s been calling for you, Ethan.” His gaze turned back to his wife. “Your Drake is here, honey.”

Feeling lost, Drake stood in the doorway.

His mother beckoned him to come.

Father, nodded, left his chair, and offered it to him. “She wants to talk to you, son.”

Rarely had he heard his father talk to him in such a loving tone. Acknowledging his father’s pat on the shoulder, Drake went to her and took her hand in his, wanting to recoil when he felt her cold and damp hand. “Mother, I’m here.”

She opened her eyes and stared, smiling as if she were seeing something past him. “Drake, I have something I need to tell you. Something your father and I have withheld from you all these years.”

Fear drove a spike into his heart. “You’ll be fine. Tell me when you feel better.”

She shook her head. “No. I need to tell you now.” She took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. “There was such a squall the night you were born. I remember it as if it were yesterday. The rain beating down. The shutters rattling in the wind. October, you know, can be a month of rough seas.”

She coughed. Not hard, but it seemed to take strength from her. She grasped his hand tightly. “Drake, my dear son. You were not the first born. Evan Jr. was born first. But like the fighter you are, you came quickly after. Twins. Evan Jr. died within the hour. No one knew why. He seemed healthy. He saw you, gasped, and left us.”

Drake sat back in the chair. “A twin?”

Father put his hands on his shoulders. “It’s why you weren’t Evan Jr. I often wondered if you thought about why we didn’t give you the name. But we named him and then he died.”