“Come along, Harry,” Nick said. “I think they need to be alone.”
Harriet glanced back in time to see Zach make a rude hand gesture at Nick. Trying not to giggle, she followed him up the steps to the main deck.
“Jack and Tucker are securing the cargo in the forward hold, Cap’n,” Bos’n reported.
Nick acknowledged him and watched Winston emerge from the aft hatch, an enormous knapsack slung over one shoulder. He still had a bandage wrapped around his head, covering his left eye.
“Smitty paid my final wages, Cap’n, but I think he miscalc’lated.” Winston dropped his knapsack to the deck, holding to the drawstring tie.
“No miscalculation,” Nick replied. “Compensation in case you end up losing the eye or the use of it.”
“But—”
Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “When you’re done healing and if it turns out it’s fine, you can pay me back next time we meet.”
A slow smile spread across Winston’s face, showing his gleaming white teeth. “Aye, sir.” He gave a look around the ship. “I sure do hate to leave you shorthanded.” He spotted Harriet, who’d been hanging back, out of the way. “But da Maiden ’O Sea will prob’ly help out, least ’til you get back to London.”
Harriet couldn’t hear or see Nick’s reply, as crew started coming up to say goodbye to Winston. They shook hands, hugged, and clapped each other on the back. When he reached her near the gangboard, she stuck her hand out for him to shake. Madame Zavrina would never approve, but while Harriet dressed like a member of the crew, she fully intended to enjoy the freedom of acting like one. She certainly wasn’t going to curtsy wearing duck trousers.
After a slight hesitation, Winston clasped her hand in a firm shake, her pale hand swallowed up in his large, work-roughened hand the color of coffee.
“Thank you for what you taught me,” she said.
He grinned. “You’s a good student.”
She stepped back, and he hoisted his knapsack over his shoulder and left the ship. He didn’t get far before he stopped on the quay to say goodbye to Big Jim and the goats, who had just returned. With a final wave at the ship, Winston joined a trio of men waiting for him and the four of them disappeared into the crowd.
Harriet helped get the goats into the lower hold. After gorging on fresh vegetation for two days, they just wanted to lie about on the straw bedding and chew their cud.
She wandered the ship to witness the departure preparations she’d slept through in London and that had been so rushed in Corunna. Nick was in the galley, reviewing the amount of water and foodstuffs Luigi had arranged to bring on board. Smitty sat at the drop-down table next to the galley, consulting bills of sale and updating the account ledgers. Bos’n and Jonesy were overseeing the rest of the crew, making sure that everything that was supposed to be tied down was secure.
When she went up on deck, Oscar was sitting on the windlass cover, vigorously washing his face and front paws. “Have a nice snack, did you?” She sat beside the orange tabby, absently stroking his long, silky back to the tip of his fluffy tail.
She looked up when Nick rang the ship’s bell in a pattern she’d never heard before. The crew quickly appeared on deck, and Jonesy joined Nick on the quarterdeck. Chang walked down the gangboard, then pushed the board up while Flynn and Tucker pulled, and soon they had the board stowed. After Chang untied the mooring ropes from the fore and aft bollards and tossed them aboard, Harriet helped haul on the line to bring him back up on deck.
Dieter quickly coiled the mooring lines, while Chang and Flynn swung over the port side gunwale and began climbing the ratlines.
Jack paused beside Harriet. “Winston used to climb up the starboard side wi’ me to loose the main t’gallant.”
Before she could reply, he’d swung over the side and started climbing.
Biting her bottom lip, Harriet stared up at the footropes, where Chang, Flynn, and Jack would soon be, and how high above the deck those lines were.
The water was calm. The ship was still beside the quay, though beginning to drift out into the river channel. Nick needed the sails unfurled quickly so he could maneuver the ship. She took a fortifying deep breath, kicked off her canvas shoes to be barefoot like the rest of the crew, careful they were out of the way up against the gunwale, grabbed the line, and started to climb.
* * *
Nick stood at the tiller, simultaneously keeping an eye on the river and watching his crew getting the ship underway. As usual when leaving port, Big Jim, Smitty, Tucker, and Dieter climbed aloft to unfurl the fore mainsail, while Chang, Flynn, Jack, and Winston were unfurling the mainmast topgallant.
Zach joined him at the maphouse. “Horses calm?” Nick asked, scanning the ship and river, then did a double take at the mainmast. He tipped his head way back to get a clear look, certain his eyes deceived him.
No, not Winston. Winston had gone ashore, probably permanently.
“Yes,” Zach said. “They’re— What in holy hell is Harry doing up there?”
Nick couldn’t speak past his heart lodged in his throat. Harriet was on the outer edge of the starboard footrope, bent over the yardarm to untie the strips holding the t’gallant.
He shouldn’t be surprised she’d finally gone aloft. She’d done almost every other sailor’s task. Did it need to be on the starboard side, though? He glanced at the open gun port. She hadn’t exactly had good luck on the starboard side.
