“Aye, sir, she be aloft.”
“Aloft?”
“Aye, sir, in the maintop.” He pointed straight up.
“What?” Jack’s eyes went straight up the topmast. “How the hell did she get up there?” The top was a platform set halfway up the mainmast. It was used to secure the rigging from the topgallant. To reach the maintop, a sailor needed to climb some fifty feet of rigging. Not for the faint of heart, many a young man had lost his footing or the contents of his stomach on his first climb up to the top.
“She be quite nimble, sir, just like a monkey,” Johnny replied.
“How long has she been up there?”
“Mayhap most of the morning, sir. You think she’s all right, sir?” The boy squinted up through the sails.
“Johnny, you go on. Kelly is probably looking for you. I’ll make sure Miss Jamieson is all right.”
The boy ran off, and Jack again glanced up. Climbing up was one thing, but coming down much different. Perhaps she was stuck, cowering up there, afraid to come down backward. He grabbed hold and began to scale the rigging along the mast. He climbed most of the way to the top when he spied two bare feet dangling. Then a pert, smiling face peered down at him.
“Ahoy, Captain. What are you doing up here?”
He ascended the remaining distance before replying, “I thought perhaps you were in some distress up here, unable to get down.” Miss Jamieson shook her head. “Well, move over so I can sit down. I haven’t climbed the mainmast in several years. I am definitely out of practice.” Winded, he sat down next to her, leaning back against the railing that surrounded the platform. Hell—not much of a hero. He was all out of breath, and the damsel was not even in distress.
****
Vivian gawked a bit. The captain was a tall man, and the top was not meant to be a shared space. Captain Jack, as she had started calling him in her head, took up all the available space, his legs hanging down through the hole used to access the platform. He wore no hat or jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up almost to the elbows.
His muscled forearms caught her attention, the dark hair on his arms striking against his tanned skin. The top two buttons at his throat were undone and the skin there was also tanned. She wondered if it would be the same across his broad chest. She swallowed hard and reached up to finger the tail end of her long braid. She shouldn’t be thinking about the captain’s naked chest.
“I don’t need rescuing. I am quite capable of getting myself down. This was always my favorite hiding spot on my father’s ship when I was a child.”
“Did you sail with your father often?”
“Oh, yes. Mama and Papa could barely stand to be separated, so we sailed with him often, several months of the year.”
“That explains your sea legs.”
She smiled. “I am often clumsy on land, tripping on stairs or rapping into furniture, but aboard a ship I am comfortable and graceful. It’s in my blood, I suppose.” She shrugged. “After Mama passed, I spent all my time aboard ship with Papa.”
“I was sorry to hear about her passing. I found her to be a great and kind lady. She nursed me back to health once many years ago after your father pulled me out of the jaws of hell.”
The jaws of hell? She raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Your father pulled me from the burning wreckage of a navy ship which had unfortunately been blown to bits.”
“Did he blow it to bits?” It wouldn’t surprise her, but she hoped the captain’s vessel hadn’t been the recipient of her father’s wrath.
He shook his head. “No, his ship came by after the blast to pull some of the crew from the longboat and my sad self from the sea. He took me home, and Lady Rose patched me up.” He looked across at her. “Were you at sea with your father after your mother passed?”
She nodded. “I was fourteen when my mother died. For a couple of years, I sailed with my father almost constantly.” It had been a happy time for her. She had felt like part of the crew. They'd called her one of Neptune’s daughters, sent to bring them fair seas. They had traveled to so many delightful ports of call.
“I am surprised your father would have you aboard without your mother there to take care of you.”
“Well, Old Tom in the galley kept an eye on me. My father’s crew had been with him for years, so they were well used to me. It worked out fine until…” Suddenly swamped with memories of that awful day, she stood to look out at the water.
“Until what?” he asked gently.
She rested her elbows on the railing, this story she had never told anyone before. The worst day of her life. The events of that day had gotten her exiled back to Nassau. The captain sat silently behind her, waiting.
“The year I turned sixteen, Papa had lost several good crew members, and while we were in Jamaica, he took on some new men. One of them, Fairly, always watched me.” She shivered at the memory. “He made me nervous, but I didn’t listen to my instincts and tell my father.”
