“Ye feelin’ all right?” Jack taunted him with an eyebrow raised so high it almost grazed his unkempt red hair.
“I feel perfectly well,” Will retorted.
“Oh good, for a minute there I thought ye forgot what a lady was and couldn’t quite make out how to talk to the foreign species. Ye don’t salute them, y’ know.” Jack set a mocking hand near his head.
Will gave Jack a shove, and it was a mighty good thing they were off the gangway and in the center of the dock or his friend might have ended up in the water. “You watched me from down here? You’re more insufferable than all the other sailors I know combined. That passenger clearly needed help.”
“Right.” Jack regained his footing and glanced sidelong at Will with suspicion.
“I don’t have time for ladies, and you know the rule about them.” Will turned with a shrug and headed for the large loading area on the other side of the dock.
Jack strode along with him. He was the only one on the ship other than the captain who called him Will. They’d become friends years ago, long before Will was made first mate.
“You know I want to be promoted. Until then I can’t think of anything else but doing my duty.”
Jack inclined his head and then looked forward. Will hoped his friend didn’t feel resentment. He’d worked just as long as Will, but he was only the boatswain, the man in charge of the sails and rigging. He was the best boatswain around, as far as Will was concerned, but the pay and prestige were still lacking. When Will became captain, he’d make sure Jack was given the post he deserved.
Will had delivered the captain’s message—both of leaving tomorrow and the rules—to all the necessary parties, and now Captain Fairfield had tasked him and Jack with overseeing the transfer of the last bit of food and water to the ship. They counted, lifted, and stowed the barrels left from the various vendors. Will glanced again at the sky, taking the measure of the clouds and the wind, hoping the darkness to the west wouldn’t cause them trouble.
Will glanced back at the gangway of theWindermere.He hadn’t gotten that young lady’s name! What was he thinking, especially when she’d asked him for his? He’d noticed how pretty she was when he handed her back her coin purse, but in broad daylight, he was sure she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Her dark hair, dazzling green eyes, and porcelain complexion formed the perfect complement of features.
He shook his head. Hadn’t hejustdeclared women would be no part of this journey? Perhaps he had been at sea too long if simply helping one female a few steps addled his head this much.
“Brother Smith,” a stout man called out from up the dock.
“Brother Garn!” a man with thick muttonchops replied.
“How fare your wife and baby?”
“They had a better night yesterday, thank you for asking.”
“Good, good.” The stout man shielded his eyes from the strengthening sun. “Are all in your ward ready?”
The young man named Smith nodded. “Yes, everyone will have all their provisions loaded within the hour.”
“Good, good,” said Garn again.
Will watched the interaction, the one man crossing to the other until the men shook hands and patted each other on the shoulder. Both seemed more eager than that young woman. She’d seemed as terrified of the voyage as a fish about to be swallowed by a shark.
Jack called to him. “That’s the last of the barrels. Think there are enough?”
Will surveyed the wooden casks tied securely to different parts of the deck. “I’ve never been short on food with Captain Fairfield. It will amply last the six or seven weeks.”
Jack took his leave and headed toward the dock.
Will glanced once more toward the two men, who were now carrying more supplies toward the hatchway.
The man with the muttonchops called Brother Smith raised his voice. “God willing, it will be a quick voyage, Brother Garn.”
“Indeed. I for one am quite eager for Zion,” Garn replied.
Will didn’t understand why they called each other brothers, or what Garn meant by Zion. Will hadn’t any need for God, and he wasn’t even sure He really existed. Though his grandmother would be ashamed, he’d forgotten most of what she’d taught him from the Bible. Except for the man who didn’t listen to God and was swallowed by a whale. That story had stuck with him, even before he went to sea.
He watched the two brothers again, Garn and Smith. Their countenances didn’t appear to be from the same family, but they seemed to be upstanding-enough citizens. He’d heard that members of their church practiced extreme devotion—following whatever their leaders said—and obeyed the teachings in some book found in a mountain in New York. Could men like them actually believe those things?
But like the captain had said, theWindermeremade good money bringing people to America, and more successful voyages were the way to be promoted to captain of his own ship, so Will need not concern himself with their beliefs.
He kicked at one of the barrels of dried meat, which didn’t budge. Now he needed to focus on his duty to care for the safety of the crew and passengers. Beyond that, he wouldn’t involve himself with any religious zealot or even any pretty face that happened to journey with him.
