Loving Sarah (28 page)

“I value honesty, Tally, thank you.” Obviously Tally was a man desperate for freedom. It was something Ian had seen as a child growing up in Baltimore. “Let’s get you on that ship, quickly.” Ian turned and strode toward
Revenge.
When he looked back, the man had not moved. Ian motioned with his hands. “Come on, Tally!” And his new sailor stepped in close behind him.

Once on board, Ian led Tally down the companionway to his cabin. “Wait for me here.” Then he returned to the deck and crew. He made clear that he expected no argument about his decision and if any man had a problem with it he was free to leave. When no man made a move to go, Ian clasped his hands behind his back. “Say nothing to no one. Once we clear this port, our new cook’s helper will be a free man.”

As he turned to go below, Ian saw a commotion develop on the dock as several men, both white and black, searched the area where he stood minutes earlier. He scowled at the men scattered around the deck. “If anyone comes aboard, say nothing.”

“I ain’t sayin’ a thing, Cap’n,” one sailor said. “I jus’ hope he can cook somethin’ other than gruel.”

In the end, no one came aboard, and the next morning both ships pulled out of Cape Town, headed for St. Helena. From there, they sailed for the Verde Islands, then Lisbon, their last port before reaching London. He continued sailing hard, and when they reached Portugal, he surrendered to the fact that he needed to hire more men. While waiting on supplies, he went in search of two more crewmen and found them in the form of an old salt who swore he was handy in a galley and his son, who admitted he wasn’t.

After sharing a meal and bottle of wine with them, he hired them and sent them to Nigel. Lucky too, hired several additional men, having come to the same conclusion. Both men’s ships were running understaffed.

Ian and Lucky sat in the outdoor cafe on a small plaza near the docks, finishing their wine. “I’m thinking we’ll need even more men,” Ian said, “but I want to see what our profit is on this run. If we can, I’d like to add in the cost of more sailors in next year’s budget.”

Lucky nodded, then changed the topic by mentioning something Ian had thought of every moment of every day since he learned of it. “She would have had the babe by now,” Lucky said. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to her?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Lucky finished his wine, then asked, “Care to race home? I’ll put up a bottle of Ren’s best Scotch.”

“You’re on.”

“What are you going to put up?”

“Nothing,” Ian said through his smile. “I’ve already proven I can beat you.”

It was one thing to race to get back home to beat your friend in a casual competition. But this was different. He couldn’t wait to see his wife and their son or daughter. Ian needed to apologize to Sarah for his behavior before he’d left all those many months ago. He’d begun to think about the fact that he’d treated her callously before he left, and after eight months, he missed Sarah terribly. She also now had a babe. Their babe.

Later, the two men headed back to the boat and took a shortcut down a side street. Tall wooden shanties, residence lodgings they appeared to be, lined both sides of the path, blocking the sunshine. Several families seemed to be packed into each room, and children hung out the narrow windows. Laundry lines hung like spider webs overhead, and the sounds of women yelling and children crying, along with scents of rich, spicy meals as they cooked, filled the alley.

A young girl carrying a produce sack approached them from a recessed doorway. Her dark hair was matted to her head, and the skin of her face held a greenish-tint in areas, telling Ian she’d been beaten. Her jaw was swollen, and her nose looked to have been broken several times. She appeared no older than fifteen, a child really. His heart twisted at her plight.

She pushed the tied burlap sack into Ian’s arms. She spoke quickly. Ian didn’t understand a word of what she said. But she obviously wanted him to take the bag. Once he held the bag in his hands, the girl turned and ran down the alley in the opposite direction. He tried to follow sight of her as she wound her way into the crowd, but soon lost her.

“Did you understand what she just said?”

“She spoke so fast. I didn’t catch it all either,” Lucky replied. “But I did make one out one word,
levar
, which I think means
to take
. She obviously wants you to have the bag.” He turned to continue down the street. “Are you coming?”

Curiosity filled him as he hefted the bag over his shoulder and followed Lucky. After a few steps, the contents began to move within the bag. At first, he thought the girl had given him a gift of food, maybe some bread. But she didn’t look the type to have any extra when it came to food. Now he thought perhaps a few puppies or kittens as the thing began making noise.

“Damn! Lucky stop. I think this is alive. It’s moving and making noises.”

“You really have had the luck this trip, haven’t you? First, you lose three good salts, then that African seeks you out over all the other ship captains in port and now….” Lucky’s words died slowly as he saw what Ian lifted from the bag.

This was no puppy or litter of kittens. Squirming and mewling pathetically, the little bundle wore only the blanket and a rag covering its bottom. Both pieces of cloth were filthy and worn-through in areas from laundering. He moved the material covering the child’s face and felt the breath slammed from his lungs. One look at the sunken eyes of indeterminate color, gray pallor, and bloated belly, and he began to curse a string of obscenities that would make an old salt cringe.

“Good God,” Lucky shouted, causing the infant to make pathetic crying-like mewling sounds.

“Let’s find the authorities…a church…someone…and turn it over. They can figure out what to do with it,” Ian said, as Lucky stepped closer to inspect the babe. Ian’s breath caught in his throat and he cursed. What in hell was the child thinking to hand over this babe to strangers? It couldn’t possibly be hers because she didn’t look to be more that a child herself.

“Hand it over,” Lucky said. “Poor thing is half-starved.”

Lucky took the infant from him, carrying it carefully and naturally. “How do you know this?”

“Long story,” was all Lucky said, as Ian scanned the alleyway for an officer of some sort.

The two of them soon waited in a room in a shabby building not too far from the port. The local who led them here had said in broken English that this was an orphanage. The sounds coming from the infant were wearing on Ian. A part of him wanted to throttle the girl who’d dumped the baby on him, but the other part of him began to understand her intent, especially as he looked around him.

The girl had been hoping to give a better life to the child, whether hers or a sibling. That had to be it. Why else would she just give away an infant? Her circumstance didn’t appear too healthy or comfortable, perhaps she wanted her offspring to have more.

A man of middle years, with a paunched belly and greased hair, entered the room, followed by a gray-haired woman, all in black, though not a nun. The woman made for Lucky who still held the child and extended her arms. He reluctantly handed the infant over.

After explaining to the man how the babe came to be in their custody, Ian watched as the woman carried it to a table in the corner of the room. She unwrapped the child’s blanket and bottom cloth and held the squirming, crying infant up.

Ian and Lucky both watched as the woman lifted the naked babe who suddenly offered up a strong howl. The woman disappointedly shook her head.

“A girl,” the older man stated, sounding as though the child wasn’t worth the cloth she was wrapped in.

“Does that matter?” Ian asked, incensed at the attitude of the pair.

“A boy child can grow to be a worker. A girl child is worthless. No man wishes to marry an orphan, and Lisbon does not need another prostitute.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you could try the church orphanage. See if they have room for another girl child.” The woman re-bundled the babe in the same dirty linens and handed it back to Lucky.

“She’s hungry,” Lucky said. Ian wondered what his friend was about. “We’ll make a generous donation to your orphanage in return for some milk and a small goat.”

“What are you thinking, Lucky?” Ian asked. “You’re a single man. Do you think to bring the girl home and raise her as a daughter? Surely the church orphanage will take her if we make the same donation to them?”

“And have her grow to live a life of poverty and want? We can provide so much more for her. Lia will help me. I know she will. In fact, if I were to turn my back on this babe, Lia would be more disappointed in me than I would be in myself.”

Two hours later, with a bottle of warm milk for the infant and leading a goat by a rope around the neck, they boarded
Avenger
. Ian chuckled at their odd luck. “We are a pair, you know. We cannot say no to people in need. Me with Tally, and you with…. What will you name her?”

Ian hoped the child survived the remainder of the voyage. If she did, she was going to have a much brighter future now that she was in Lucky’s hands. Admittedly, Ian had a moment of doubt with regard to Lucky taking the child and keeping her, being he was a single gentleman without a home of his own either.

Then Ian saw the look on his friend’s face as the old woman intimated that a girl child was worthless as naught but a future prostitute, and that’s when he knew Lucky and his family would be the perfect home for the child. Lucky already had a strong fatherly instinct in him having been raised in such a large family with so many children around.

“I’ll think of something. First we need to get her home and have Prescott take a look at her. If she survives, we shall christen her in the church. Perhaps alongside your son or daughter.”

The men aboard the ship just shook their heads and went about their duties. Ian followed Lucky into his cabin and watched as he took a drawer, emptied the contents on the table and placed a pillow inside. Then he laid the baby on the table next to the makeshift cradle and unwrapped her.

“She smells like she needs a fresh napkin,” Lucky said. “What do I do?”

“I haven’t the slightest. Perhaps we can ask one of the crewmen if they have any experience with babies?”

“Good idea.” Ian then went up to the main deck and began asking around. Most of the men gave him a bizarre look as they replied in the negative until one lad stepped forward.

“I used to care for my baby sister while mum worked when I was little. I can do it.”

With the situation now well in hand, they left Lisbon harbor the next day on the afternoon tide, any thought of race between the two now long forgotten, though Ian continued sailing hard. This time his men were eager and anxious to be home, so they didn’t complain at the pace he’d set. Ian and his crew arrived at the mouth of the Thames on the morning of April twenty-third, making him one day closer to seeing Sarah and meeting his new son or daughter.

Ian wondered how she was doing and hoped she might be at least somewhat happy to see him. He missed her terribly and cared for her deeply and didn’t know how he was going to convey this to her. He didn’t have the sensitivity in such situations as Lucky did. He needed to figure it out somehow, because he had to apologize to her for his earlier crass behavior.

During this entire journey to China and back, he had learned one thing—that he needed to be more of a gentle man, not just a gentleman. He needed to think not only of Sarah’s wants and needs, but also her reactions before he acted.

W
hile the stevedores and his crew unloaded the crates of tea from his boat, Ian went in search of the ledger he hadn’t needed since the last tea run he’d made over a year ago. He thought about that run and this one and decided that the retrofitted lead plates on the keel had definitely made the boat easier to maneuver. Too, because of the reduced ballast, they were able to increase their capacity by nearly two hundred thousand pounds. While the first run had been profitable, and had paid for the upgrade and refurbishing, it had left very little after paying his crew and the bank.

This run, however, would make them a tidy sum. Enough to give his crew a bonus on top of their wages, pay the bank, and deposit a nice slice for him and Lucky each.

“Where’s that bank ledger?” Ian muttered in his now-empty cabin, the tea crates having been removed earlier that day. “Damn it all. She organized the room almost a year ago, and I still can’t find a thing.” He remembered being thankful that she’d cleaned and organized the cabin at the time. But now? Something told him that he’d need to get her a home soon or she’d be rearranging his entire boat. Moving across the room to the bed, he pulled open the drawers one by one, pushed the contents aside and closed them when he didn’t find what he sought. In the last drawer, his bank ledger rested on top of the stack of books. As Ian lifted the leather-bound book from its resting place, he saw a scrap of vellum sticking out from between two pages.

He lifted the folded sheet and opened it. As he began to read the elegant, feminine script, his heart fell to his gut. He hoped it wasn’t what he feared, that Sarah regretted their marriage. He knew he was gruff with her at times, but he would work to change that part of his character because he wasn’t going to lose her.

Ian,

Although I landed upon your ship quite accidentally. I will confess to you now I am not sorry I did so.