“Huh. Well, that does not bode well for anything in his life, does it, especially since he has six of them. All older?” She sighed and shook her head when he nodded. “Maybe you shouldn’t waste your breath.”
“He might listen.”
“Or he might not. I’d lay money down on the latter. Younger siblings don’t often obey older ones.” She raised her voice so it would reach the boy skipping ahead of them, now wide-awake and dressed to go out in the boat. “Not even when they have been told to do so.”
“Depends on who gave the order,” said Geordie, grinning at the boy who was so blatantly pretending not to hear what was being said.
“Our father when he was sick for a while. We thought he had caught what our mother had, so he was setting the rule for the future to help me. Auntie says the same thing. And she agrees with me when I say I think Dad did get what our mother had and, although he improved and seemed well for a while, it left him with a weakened heart.”
“Quite possible,” he said as they went down the steps. “Where is this boat?”
“Just down the beach a little ways, tucked up against the dune. We hid a small shed there.”
He was surprised by how well the boat had been hidden, tucked in a small shed well sheltered by the hill. He helped them drag it out and down to the edge of the water. Abel brought the oars, one at a time. Then some time was spent checking the boat for leaks that might have developed while it had been stored for the winter.
Belle put an odd, brightly colored vest on Abel before he climbed into the boat. He and Belle then pushed it farther into the water, hopping in before their clothing got too soaked. She sat and grabbed the oars. He studied what the boy wore, a vest that buckled on and had a lot of cork on the sides and front.
“I have never seen one of these.” He reached out to touch the cork he could see.
“Da saw a cork jacket in a magazine and tried his hand at one so we could take Abel out in the boat. It will keep him mostly above water if he falls in. He is learning to swim. When he feels confident, I may have trouble getting him to wear it,” she added softly.
“When I learn how to swim I will be a man and won’t need this,” Abel said and shot his sister a firm scowl.
“No. You will just be a little boy who was clever enough to learn how to swimandone who will be clever enough to know he should still wear it.”
When Abel folded his arms over his chest and stared out over the water, Geordie leaned closer to Belle and whispered, “Weel played, Miss Belle.”
“Thank you,” she replied as softly as she picked up the oars and began to row. “Now I just have to hope he likes being thought of as clever more than he wants to be considered a man. Do you want to try your hand at this now?”
“Aye.” He waited as she moved out of the way, then took her place.
“Nay as elegant but a bit like the punts on the Thames.”
“Just in the fact that they are wooden boats needing muscle to move them. You saw those in your travels?”
“Aye. Just for a few minutes as we were headed to the ships. The ship we had taken out of Glasgow was not strong enough to cross an ocean, so they took us to a port near London that had ships sailing to America.”
“I had no idea it was such a convoluted thing.”
“Aye, and with a lot of men along the way trying to get their hands on the funds ye saved up for the trip.”
“Of course. You’d find them here, too.” She grabbed the edge of her seat as the little boat swerved sharply then was righted. “Need to use the same force on each oar.”
“I can see that.” He sent Abel an exaggerated glare when the boy giggled.
“We can turn back and pack it in for the day in a little while.”
“I think I can keep it smooth now.”
“Actually, I wasn’t thinking of that, I was thinking about the strain on your arms. It doesn’t matter how big and strong you are,” she continued when she saw the hint of insult in his face, “if you are new at rowing you will feel it after even a short trip. You can end up weakened and shaky.”
He had to admit there was a powerful pull on his arms each time he used the oars, but could not really see how it would suck all the strength from his arms. Nevertheless, grudgingly accepting that she might know more about this than he did, he carefully turned the boat so it was headed back to shore. It was not done smoothly and he ignored the giggles from his passengers.
Despite having enjoyed the small trip in the boat, he felt relief when the boat bumped into the shore. At Belle’s instruction he gave one last push and the boat slid up onto the beach a bit. She showed him how to put the oars down and then how to lash the boat to the anchoring post.
He helped Belle out and then collected Abel. Belle was right about the boy. He was indeed small for his age and was a very good clinger. He was beginning to think he would have to pull the boy’s arms away from his neck, when they reached the top of the stairs and Abel’s grip lessened, and he breathed easier. By the time they reached the house, he was very happy to put the boy down onto his own two feet.
Watching as Belle shed her coat and went into the infirmary, he rubbed his arms. They were already making a small protest about what he had just done. He hoped they did not get worse because he would have to go to her to give him a hand. That would be more humiliation than he wanted to suffer from.
