The Royal Handmaid (6 page)

Meredith gave Rena a curious look, and a smile touched her lips. “I don’t think mission teams work that way, Rena.”

Pete tried to add a positive note. “He’ll be a help to us, I’m sure, and we can use someone with experience on the mission field.”

“I don’t believe we really need his kind of experience, Pete. He’s really a rather arrogant man, talking about God telling him to come with us when he’s only just heard of us. But, of course, we’ll all have to be nice to him.”

Dalton laughed. “Of course we will. What did you think we were going to do—poke our thumbs in his eye?”

Rena stood rigidly, angry to the bone. She could not show her anger to the group, though, and when she spoke again it took considerable effort to keep her voice calm. “We’re all agreed, then.”

“Don’t worry,” Dalton said, putting his arm around Rena and smiling at the group. “We’ll be sure that he knows his place.”

Jeanne Vernay, Rena’s best friend, had said nothing, but now she asked, “What does he look like, Rena? I suppose he’s pretty shoddy?”

“Oh, he’s not bad looking, Jeanne, but he’s pretty roughhewn and dresses like a day laborer.” Rena gave her friend a direct look. “We’re not taking him because of his looks.”

Jeanne laughed aloud and winked at Dalton. “Better check him over, Dalton. He sounds like one of those rugged romantic types. He might try to steal your girl.”

“No danger of that.” Dalton shrugged nonchalantly, but then he looked at Rena curiously. “I got the idea from what you said that he’s a pretty homely fellow.”

Jeanne was delighted with his reaction. She and Rena had competed with each other since their childhood. Both were attractive, wealthy, and liked to get their own way. “Tell us more about Travis Winslow, Rena. You’ve got me curious now.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The Black Sheep

As Loren Matthews stepped onto the deck of the
Mary Anne,
a strange, unexpected fear sliced through him. Loren loved the sea, but to him it was like a woman who could smile and act charming, but who could also turn cold and cruel without warning. He took in the azure sky. A flight of gulls divided overhead in evanescent shapes, making a kaleidoscopic pattern. The sharp salt smell of the sea surrounded him, and the sun glinted on the small white-crested waves that expanded out into the Pacific. The sun burned a white hole in the sky, and the heat of July was modified by the freshness of the westerly wind. He looked back at the land, and the hazy hills of San Francisco appeared to be brooding over some sullen thought.

“Welcome aboard, Loren.”

The speaker was a muscular man of forty, prematurely gray and weathered to a golden tan by years of exposure. His frosty blue eyes were friendly, and when he put out his hand, he almost crushed Loren’s with his grip. He was a powerful man in spirit as well as body and a friend as well as employee of Loren Matthews.

“How are you, Caleb?”

“Finer than frog hair! We’ve got good weather for the trip.” Caleb Barkley locked his hands behind his back and studied Loren Matthews. “Wish you were going with us. Sure you won’t change your mind?”

“I wouldn’t be any good on this trip—much as I’d like to
go.” Loren suddenly looked embarrassed. “I suppose you think, like everyone else, that I’m a fool for financing this expedition.”

“I’ve never known you to do a fool thing. I don’t expect you’re starting now.”

“Well, Caleb, I’ve been worried about this trip. They’re not exactly a hardened crew.”

“They’ll make out fine,” Barkley said. “It looks like it’ll be an easy passage if the weather holds out like this. Smooth sailing all the way.”

Continuing their conversation, the two men turned and walked away. As they disappeared down the hatchway, Travis stepped up onto deck, where he was stopped by a massive individual who had planted himself in his way. “What’s your business?” the burly man grumbled. “No trespassing on the ship.”

Travis studied the man. He had black hair and a pair of intent hazel eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken, and his face bore other marks of past battles. Travis estimated he was in his late twenties and easily weighed more than two hundred pounds. “I’m Travis Winslow. I’m one of the passengers.”

“I’m Cerny Novak. I guess you’re all right, then.”

Two other members of the crew had paused in their deck chores to study the newcomer. “You’re one of them preachers, ain’t ya?”

“I’m afraid so, but—”

Charlie Day sent a loud laugh through his bad teeth. “Imagine that, Novak. Now we’re haulin’ preachers for cargo.”

The other crew member looked and sounded like a Scandinavian. “I’m Lars Olsen,” he said. “You don’t look like a preacher.”

“I don’t expect I do,” Travis replied.

“I ain’t got no time for preachers,” Novak warned. “They just clutter up the earth as far as I’m concerned.”

Travis noted the aggressive glare in the big man’s eyes.
“Well, I don’t guess I’m enough of a preacher to make much difference. You might say I’m the black sheep of the whole bunch.”

Novak winked at his friends, then stuck out his hand. “Well, welcome aboard, Winslow.”

Travis put out his hand, and it was crushed in Novak’s grip. He tried not to look too surprised, but he did not miss the amusement of all three of the sailors. He suddenly squeezed his own hand, meeting Novak’s grip, and now it was Novak who looked surprised. Travis allowed no sign of strain to show on his face but simply stood there matching the man grip for grip. Novak tilted his head back, and his lips grew thin as he put forth all of his force. He did not prevail over Travis Winslow, however. Travis maintained his grip, giving as good as he got.

Finally Novak released the pressure and pulled his hand back. He stared at his hand for a moment as if it were a traitor, then grinned reluctantly. “Perty good grip you got there. Any other preachers like you in this bunch?”

“Nope, I’m the bottom of the barrel, and I’ll tell you right now, I don’t know a thing about sailing ships. But if I can help you fellows, I’ll be glad to do it.”

Novak was amused, yet chagrined. He had rarely been bested in tests of strength, and now he shrugged. “Well, you can help with the loading. See them bags down there? They all gotta come on board.”

“Sure,” Travis said, nodding and stepping onto the gangplank. The other three followed him, and when they got down to the supplies stacked on the wharf, Travis picked up a hundred-pound bag and put it on his shoulder easily.

The crew introduced him to another sailor who was already helping to load the cargo. “I’m Shep Riggs. I heard you say you don’t know much about sailing ships, Mr. Winslow.”

“That’s right,” Travis replied as he headed back up the gangplank. “I’ve been on several tramp steamers, but this one is different. It’s really beautiful.”

While Winslow easily navigated the plank back onto the deck, Olsen turned to Novak. “Y’know, he ain’t a bad guy—for a preacher.”

“If he weren’t a preacher, he might be a good guy,” Novak muttered, hefting a load onto his shoulder. “But if he tries to preach at me, I’ll throw him over the side.”

Charlie Day laughed and struggled to get a bag over his shoulder. When it was nestled there, he said, “Before we get halfway to Hawaii, we may throw ’em all overboard!”

****

Rena got out of the car on the dock and approached the ship, but halted when she saw Travis Winslow picking up a bag and lifting it to his shoulder. She rushed up the gangway and demanded, “What are you doing?”

“Why, I’m helping load the ship.”

Rena shook her head. “You musn’t do that. You have to keep your dignity with outsiders.”

“You think loading a ship isn’t dignified?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. From now on I want you to keep your distance from the crew.” She moved past him and walked on up the gangplank. Travis turned and saw that Charlie Day and Novak were watching him. A crooked grin twisted Winslow’s lips. “You fellows keep your distance, now. You heard what the boss said.”

Novak laughed aloud. “She’s a perty thing but a bit snooty.”

“Wait till she gets seasick. That’ll take some of the starch out of her,” Day said, grinning. “Come on. Let’s finish gettin’ this stuff loaded. I’m wore out.”

****

The sun had dropped from its place in the sky into the sea with a silent splash of light. Travis stood in the bow of the
Mary Anne
listening to the sibilant lapping of the waves on the shore and savoring the aroma of the sea itself. The plan was to get all the supplies loaded and all the passengers
aboard so they could sail first thing in the morning after breakfast. Hearing footsteps on the gangplank, he turned to see Meredith Wynne approaching. “Good evening, Miss Wynne.”

Meredith stopped abruptly and peered through the gathering darkness. “Oh, it’s you, Travis.” She came forward to give him her hand. The wind ruffled the edges of her dark hair, and a smile made a small break along her lips. “I’m late,” she said, and some private thought amused her, for Travis saw the effect of it dancing in her eyes. “I’m not very punctual, I’m afraid. What have you been doing all afternoon?”

“Helping the crew load the ship.”

He saw that his statement surprised her, but she only smiled and said, “I probably should have been here helping to do the same thing.”

“What
have
you been doing?”

“I was at the library studying.”

“Studying what?”

“I’m a linguist. I study languages.”

“What kind of language do they speak where we’ll be going?”

“Something like Malay. A little different from anything I’ve ever handled, but it seems fairly simple.”

“I’d like to start learning it as soon as I can.”

“Do you know any other language besides English, Mr. Winslow?”

“Spanish pretty well. And a smattering of Maya.”

“You know the Mayan language? That’s unusual.”

“I spent some time down in Central America working with the Maya Indians.”

“It sounds like you won’t have any trouble learning a new language, then. I can start teaching you as soon as we cast off.”

“That sounds good, Miss Wynne. I need a head start over the others. I might be a little slow. I don’t have a college degree like everyone else here. They’ll probably pick it up quickly when we get to the islands.”

“Languages are funny. Some people pick them up very easily. I always did. And some people, no matter how smart they are, can’t seem to master them.”

“Meredith, come on, and you too, Travis. We’re waiting for you.”

The pair turned to see an impatient Rena, who had come topside. “Where have you been, Meredith?”

“I forgot myself at the library. Sorry.”

“Well, come on down. We need to talk about some things.”

Travis followed the two women down the steep flight of stairs and entered the largest room on the
Mary Anne,
the main cabin. It ran the full width of the ship, and portals on both sides admitted light, at least when there was light. Now, however, the electric lights glowed, casting their pale beams over the faces of those who had gathered. Travis moved back against the wall and took his place alongside Pete Alford, who nodded to him, saying, “I should have helped with that loading, I guess.”

“There was no need. I just wanted to be doing something.”

Captain Barkley got everyone’s attention. “Some of you might want to look at this navigational chart.” He touched a large map he had pinned to the bulkhead. “In a sailing vessel like the
Mary Anne,
we can’t chart our course quite as easily as a steamship can. We go as the wind dictates, so we may take a somewhat circuitous route, but at least you can see where we are now and where we plan to get to.”

Travis leaned forward with interest as Captain Barkley put his finger on the spot where the
Mary Anne
was anchored. “We’re right here, and we’re going all the way across the Pacific to these islands here. But first we’ll stop in the Hawaiian Islands at Hilo—here—to take on fresh water and supplies.”

Travis listened intently as the captain explained the routine, and when he asked for questions, Professor Dekker spoke up first. “Is there any danger of storms?”

“Always danger of storms at sea, Professor,” Barkley replied with a smile on his lips. “It’s the nature of the beast.
Right now everything looks fine. We’ll at least get to Hawaii without any problem.”

“How long will the trip take?” Abigail Townsend asked. She was standing beside her husband, Jimmy, and the two looked very young to Travis. He knew they had only been married a couple of months and was pleased to see the obvious affection they had for each other. Now, however, he noticed Abigail nervously reach out and take her husband’s hand.

“Impossible to say. With good wind, we’ll make it in a few weeks, but we could get becalmed.”

“I wonder why your father didn’t get a steam yacht,” Dalton Welborne asked, turning to Rena. “It would be much more efficient.”

“Oh, Dad’s such a seaman. He really belongs back in the days when there were only ships with sails,” she said with a laugh. “I think he really hates any ship with an engine.”

Travis was curious about the young woman. He had seen such contradictory signs in her. Sometimes she seemed hard, but at other times there was a vulnerability about her. Now as he watched her talking, he admired the glow of her eyes and the way her hair shone under the lights. He felt the pull of her presence and was displeased with himself for thinking such things.

After the captain had finished, Rena took over and began to outline the rules. “We will have a prayer time at breakfast every morning. Then in the afternoon we’ll have a service for the crew. None of them are believers, are they, Captain Barkley?”

Barkley did not answer for a moment, and Travis saw that he was irritated. “That’s not a requirement for my crew, Miss Rena.”

“Well, they need to hear the Gospel,” Rena insisted. Changing the subject, she held up a piece of paper and said, “I’ve been trying to assign the rooms so we’ll be most comfortable, but we’re one bed short.” She turned to Travis and said, “You’ll have to find your own place.”