The Immortelles (9 page)

Yancy answered, “We were on the ship
Orestes.
She went down last night.”

“Went down? You mean sank?”

“Yes. Could you get us in out of the weather? The lady is exhausted.”

“My name's Moore—Caleb Moore. Come on inside.” The man turned and opened the door, calling, “Esther!” A woman appeared in the doorway, and her eyes widened. She was wearing a white apron over a blue dress and seemed to be about the same age as her husband, somewhere in her fifties. “My stars! What in the world?”

“These folks were in a shipwreck.”

“Come on in. It's a wonder you're not frozen.”

Damita walked inside the large kitchen, and a stove that threw off waves of heat drew her immediately. She walked over to it, held her hands out, and then, inexplicably, began to tremble again.

“Here, you can't wear those wet clothes. Come along with me. What's your name?”

“Damita Madariaga.”

“Miss Madariaga, you come along to my bedroom. My clothes won't fit you very well, but you can get dried out. Caleb, you get this man some of your dry clothes.”

“Sure.” Caleb Moore stepped into a bedroom and came out with an armload of underwear, socks, shirts, and a pair of pants. “You can wear these. What'd you say your name was?”

“Yancy Devereaux.” The men shook hands, then Yancy slipped off his damp, dirty clothes and into the clean ones his host offered. The older man pulled a sweater from the back of a chair and held it out. “You might want this for a time.”

“Thanks, Mr. Moore.”

“Caleb's all right. I'd better get out there and see if anybody else made it.”

“I'll go with you pretty soon. I doubt if we'll find anybody alive. There'll be bodies coming in.”

Shock appeared on Moore's face. “How many were on the ship?”

“A little more than two hundred.”

“Got to be some of them left alive. You two made it.”

“I doubt it. It was a miracle that we got here. A large board broke off the ship, and we managed to get on top of it, and it brought us in to shore. If we had been farther out, we wouldn't have made it. What's the closest town?”

“St. Augustine. It's about fifteen miles from here.”

At that point, Esther Moore appeared and went to the stove. “You folks need something to eat.”

“Coffee would be good.”

“It's on the stove. Caleb, you pour. I'll just whip up some ham and bacon and eggs, and we've got biscuits left over. It's not fancy.”

“It's just what I need, Mrs. Moore.”

As Esther rattled dishes and broke eggs, Caleb fired questions at Yancy. The weary young man felt drained but obligated to answer. Damita emerged from another bedroom, wearing a faded, ill-fitting dress. Her hair was still wet, and she was drying it with a towel.

“You come and sit right over here, Miss,” Caleb said. “My wife's the best cook in Florida.”

Indeed, Esther was an excellent cook, at least as far as breakfast was concerned. Both Yancy and Damita ate quickly and then took seconds. Afterward, Damita was stirring her coffee when Yancy said, “Caleb and I are going to the beach to see if there are any more survivors. Why don't you lie down awhile?”

“I'm all right,” Damita said shortly. She looked up and started to say something about her aunt but knew such talk was useless. She sipped the coffee, and the two men left. Esther Moore filled her own coffee cup and sat beside her.

“A terrible thing. Did you have friends on the ship?”

“My aunt.”

“Oh, my dear—I'm so sorry.” She reached over and put her work-worn hand on Damita's and said, “Maybe she made it ashore.”

“I don't think anyone did. I believe Yancy and I were the only ones.”

“Was it a big ship?”

“There were more than two hundred people on board.”

“Lord help us!” Esther Moore cried, her eyes widening. “Listen, as soon as Caleb comes back, we'll get you in to St. Augustine. You can catch a ship back from there, or perhaps go overland. The ship would be the quickest.”

“I hate to be a bother.”

“Don't be foolish. What are people for, except to help in time of trouble?”

The two women sat quietly then, and Esther tactfully did not mention the wreck anymore. She put Damita's and Yancy's clothes by the stove, and they soon dried out. Esther ironed Damita's dress, and the young woman put it back on. The coat was still hanging in front of the stove when the two men came back.

“Did you find anyone, Caleb?” His face was dark. “Not alive,” he said. “We'll have to go into St. Augustine and report this.”

“I know. You go hitch up the wagon. I'll go with you. Where do your people live, Miss Damita?”

“In New Orleans.”

Esther said, “You are welcome to stay with us, but I know you are anxious to get home. There's nearly always a ship leaving St. Augustine for New Orleans. You can get a hotel there until one leaves.”

Caleb studied her face, started to say something but then changed his mind. “I'll go get the team hitched up. The weather's clearing off.”

Damita and Yancy stood in front of the Royal Hotel and said their good-byes to the Moores. She and Yancy had gone to the courthouse to give notice of what had happened, and then the Moores had driven them to the hotel. The two couples shook hands, then Damita suddenly moved forward a step and hugged Esther. She had never embraced a woman in Esther Moore's class before, but gratitude was rich in her. “I can't thank you enough for helping us.”

“You get on home now, and let your people baby you and take care of you. We'll be praying for you, me and Caleb. And I'm sorry about your aunt.” The Moores climbed up on their wagon, Caleb snapped the reins, and they ambled out of town.

Now Yancy and Damita stood in front of the hotel, and Damita said, “I don't have any money. It was all in my stateroom.”

Yancy smiled briefly. “I carry my cash in my money belt, so we still have some.” He patted his side and said, “It got a little damp, but it's all right.”

“My father will recompense you for anything you spend.”

Yancy looked at her. “Come along. We'll go register.”

The two walked into the lobby of the hotel, and the clerk smiled at them. “Yes, sir. May I help you?”

“We need two
rooms, one for this lady and one for myself.”

“Yes, sir, we have two. Please register right here.” The clerk was a short man with fair skin and sky-blue eyes. When they finished signing in, he smiled and asked, “Will you be staying long?”

“I hope not,” Yancy said. “We need to get a ship out of here. This lady needs to catch one bound for New Orleans. Do you know of any?”

“No, sir, I don't, but you can go down to the docks and find out very easily.”

“I'll do that.” Yancy took the keys and nodded, then the two turned and walked up the stairs.

Yancy opened the door to room 206 and handed Damita the key. “You lie down and get some rest. I'll go find out about a ship. When I get back, we'll have something to eat.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Damita.” He hesitated and said, “I know it's been rough, but it's not over yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes the past haunts a person. Didn't you know that?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I mean, you don't always have time to think about how difficult things are, but later, you look back and wonder how you lived through them.”

Damita's life had been so carefree up to that point, the idea of the past's haunting her was foreign. But as Yancy spoke, she recognized that she would always remember the horror of the wreck, and other things as well.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said and walked back down the stairs.

Damita awoke with a start at the gentle knock on her door. She sat up and looked around, remembering where she was. “Who is it?” she called.

“It's me, Yancy. Do you want to go eat?”

Realizing she was hungry, she got up and said, “Yes. I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.” Quickly she dressed and did the best she could with her hair. She had no brush, no comb, no cosmetics, nothing but the water-damaged clothes she was wearing. Leaving her room and descending the stairs, she walked into the hotel restaurant she had seen when they registered. As she approached Yancy at a table, he arose and drew back a chair for her. “I thought we'd have something to eat, and then maybe go buy you something to wear and other things you'll need.”

“That's thoughtful of you,” she said, thawing a little. “Did you find out about a ship?”

“There's one leaving tomorrow. Not much of a ship, but at least it's going to New Orleans.”

“Could you get tickets on it?”

“They don't ordinarily take passengers, but the captain said that he'd make an exception after I explained what had happened. They're on the last leg of a journey—they've been down in Venezuela.”

The waiter came, and the two ordered steaks. When the food arrived, the meat was tender and tasted wonderful to Damita. She ate the entire steak, and Yancy grinned, saying, “You're starved to death. You're going to get fat if you eat like that.”

“No, I don't think so.” She said, “I'm sorry I have to depend on you, but my father will pay you when we get back.”

“I'm not going back.”

Damita stared at him. “You're not going back? Why?”

“Nothing to go back to New Orleans for. I'm headed to Savannah.”

“Oh, I see.” Damita felt lost for a moment, then she made the best of it. “You can give me your address, and I can have him send you the money.”

“To perdition with the money! Who cares about it?” Yancy said roughly. He picked up his coffee, sipped it, and said, “I thought hard times drew people together, Damita. That was a horrible experience. We were hanging on to each other, and we were all we had. I'll never forget it, but evidently, you don't want to think about it.”

Damita studied his face. He had not shaved, and his whiskers had a reddish glint. His face looked thinner even in the short time since the shipwreck, but his eyes were blue as cornflowers and intense as anything she had ever seen. She remembered how she had clung to him and returned his caresses. Her face flushed, and she knew she could not hide her thoughts from him.

“Look, Damita, we barely survived a disaster. You had lost a beloved relative. We were cold and alone, and the only thing we had on earth was each other. When something like that happens, your defenses are down. It can happen to anyone.” He reached over and put his hand on her wrist. “Don't be ashamed of being human, Damita.”

Her first impulse was to give him the same kind of warmth and confidence that he was showing toward her. But she could not forget that he was the one who had broken away from their embrace. Damita, who had always prided herself upon her ability to stand, had nearly fallen. It was Yancy, the rough Kaintock with no manners, who had shown strength. This galled her anew. If she had been the one who had drawn back, she could have borne it. But she had not, and both of them knew it. She tightened her lips and gave him a level look. “You saved my life, Yancy, and for that, I'll always be thankful.”

Yancy saw that she was hardened against him and removed his hand. He studied her for a moment and then shook his head. “You've got too much pride. One day, if you're lucky, you'll lose it. And then, you'll have to admit that you're human just like the rest of us. If that ever happens, you'll be a real woman with real pride. The ship leaves in the morning at nine o'clock. I'll be in the lobby, waiting to take you there. Good night.”

Damita watched, shocked, as Yancy stood and walked out of the restaurant. He disappeared around the corner, and she felt deflated, and that she had somehow demeaned herself. Her mind returned to the time that she had lain in his arms and shame came.
I'm no better than the women at those balls who give themselves to men for money,
she thought.
I'm the same as they are
. Her hands clenched. She rose and went to her room, and when she had shut the door, she lay down on the bed and tried to blot everything out of her mind.

The ship was terrible. It was filthy and smelly, and the sailors leered at her. Even the captain was drunk.

Yancy had brought Damita on board and introduced her to Captain Passen, who had not shaved recently and had a rank odor about him. He had grinned and said, “You're all right, lady. My first mate will give you his cabin for the trip.”

“Thank you, Captain, and thank the mate for me.”

“We'll be settin' sail in half an hour. You better get your good-byes said. Don't worry, little lady. We don't get many passengers, but we'll have time to get acquainted.”

Damita turned toward Yancy, and they moved a few steps away from the captain, aware of the eyes of the crew. The two of them had hardly spoken all morning. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing. Nothing's wrong.”

“Are you afraid?”

Damita lifted her head and nodded. “Yes, I'm afraid of these men.”

Yancy studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “I'm in no big hurry. I'll pay my passage and take you back to your parents.”

“I . . . I thank you for that, Yancy,” she said a bit stiffly.

“No bother,” he said without expression and left her to go make arrangements with the captain.

The first mate's cabin stank of stale flesh, alcohol, and tobacco smoke. As soon as Damita saw it, she knew she would not be able to sleep on the bed because the covers were so soiled.
Yancy arranged to get fresh bedding for her.

The first day she spent almost entirely in her cabin. On deck, the men had whispered loudly enough for her to hear crude remarks that brought color to her face.