Elaine carefully loaded a spoon with the fake vanilla cake, sniffed it, then tasted it. A look of confusion came over her. It took her a while to swallow, and a range of emotions crossed her face while she tried to render a verdict.
“It doesn’t taste as sweet,” she finally said. “You try it.”
To Annabelle’s dismay, she agreed. There was nothingwrongwith the fake vanilla cake ... but something about the flavor was a letdown. It didn’t seem as rich. It was still good, just not heavenly.
“Let’s invite the Hillenbrands over,” Elaine said impulsively. “Something this good shouldn’t be hoarded.”
The elderly couple across the hall had always been kind to them, and this would be a delightful way to thank them. Married for fifty-five years, the Hillenbrands had worked for decades as lamplighters, walking dozens of miles each night to light the streetlights, and again in the hours before dawn to snuff them out. The physical toll showed on their rail-thin frames and worn clothing.
Laughter abounded as the Hillenbrands took the same taste challenge and concurred with their conclusion about the cakes. Old Mr. Hillenbrand even offered to go to the store to fetch more ingredients if Elaine wished to keep developing her baking skills.
“I may take you up on that!” Elaine laughed. Annabelle hadn’t seen her this animated in years.
Was this the reason they had come from Kansas? So that Elaine could discover a love for baking? Or maybe it was so they could befriend this nice elderly couple. All Annabelle knew for sure was that today had been surprisingly pleasant.
Except that as they shared cake and laughter, Luke Delacroix was sweltering in prison, and she would always feel responsible for that. If she could do it all again, would she have done anything differently? Her gaze trailed outside. She would probably struggle with that question for the rest of her life.
Twenty-Three
After a week of haggling with bankers and brokers, the sale of thePelicanhad been canceled, and now Gray had to scramble to rehire the crew. Many of thePelican’s crew members had quit while the ship sat in port during the sale negotiation. With luck, he might be able to find some of them. Every cargo steamer had quirks, and an experienced crew was essential.
“Sign me back up,” Captain Haig said with a broad smile as they met on the bridge of thePelican. The weathered old sailor wore his white hair in a ponytail that reached halfway down his back, for he’d always had a ruthless disregard for convention.
ThePelican’s bridge had the best view of anyplace on the ship, with windows providing a panoramic view over the harbor. Most of the bridge was taken up with the navigation equipment, but a small table near the back had just enough room for Gray, Otis, and Captain Haig to talk business.
“I wasn’t too keen on those new owners,” Haig said. “I probably would have quit before long.”
“And why is that?” Otis asked.
“They were going to use the ship for regular coal deliveries between Baltimore and Miami. I’d die of boredom on a route like that.” Working for the Delacroixs meant importing spicesfrom distant points all over the world, and a regular coal run would be painfully mundane for a man as colorful as Captain Haig.
Gray was glad to have someone he trusted at the helm. “I’ll get contracts for cargo lined up within the month, and I hope you and I can set sail for Madagascar by October.”
“You’re coming?” Captain Haig asked in surprise.
“I’m coming.” Gray didn’t add any details, even though Haig looked stunned. During their last trip from the Spice Islands, he’d told the old sailor about his plans to finally settle down and start a family. Haig had an instinctive love for the sea, but Gray never did.
Haig leaned back in his chair and drew on his pipe. “That’s an abrupt turnabout for a man who took his mother’s wedding ring out of the family vault only a few weeks ago.”
Gray shot a look at Otis, the only person who’d known about that withdrawal. Otis had the decency to look abashed and shrugged. “Haig caught me coming out of the bank and asked me why. I was happy for you.”
“And blabbed.”
“And I blabbed,” Otis admitted.
The last thing Gray wanted to think about was Annabelle Larkin. He needed to rehire a crew, inspect the ship, and scramble to find enough cargo to make the trip to Madagascar profitable.
“Let’s go down to inspect the hold,” Gray said as he stood and gestured to the door. Spices didn’t take up much room, so most of their freight was supplied by other firms, and he needed to be sure everything was in order.
“Everything is in good shape,” Haig said, making no move to leave the bridge. “Go find us a cargo. Anything except coal destined for Miami.”
“I need to inspect the hold first.” On her previous homeward voyage, thePelicanhad carried eight thousand tons of camphorwood, and that could stink up a hold. “If the hold still smells like camphor, I need to know.”
Haig kept his booted feet up on the table, blocking the doorway. “I told you ... everything is fine.”
The old sailor was acting oddly. He had been ever since Gray and Otis boarded the ship for an impromptu inspection an hour earlier. Gray had worked with Captain Haig for almost twenty years, and they usually clicked along like a well-oiled machine.
Not today. Gray had to push Haig’s feet off the table to unblock the door, and then he headed out with Otis close behind. He ducked to navigate the steeply pitched stairs leading down to the first of two holds. The scent of camphor was still apparent, even in the passageway outside the hold.
