Beloved Castaway (33 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Y'Barbo

Tags: #Romance, #Christian, #Fiction

BOOK: Beloved Castaway
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A salt-tinged breeze rustled the curtains and blew across the
room.
 

“Emilie, I stopped being concerned with what was fair long ago.”

“Still, you must understand this is not going to be well received by the captain. He loves you, you know.”

“He thinks he does, but the Lord will provide someone else for him. Now, about that bath. . .”

Emilie put herself between Isabelle and the door. “You’re for-getting to consider something. What if the Lord provided you for Josiah Carter?”

Isabelle sidestepped her sister. “Then the Lord will provide a way.”

Chapter 27

J
osiah!” William launched himself into his brother’s arms and held on tight. “Miss Emilie said you were coming back, but I didn’t know it would take so long. I missed you terribly.” He leaned back to peer into Josiah’s eyes. “How was your voyage? Did you fetch us a new ship?”

“My voyage?”
 

He looked to Mrs. Campbell for guidance, but she wore a blank face. Rather than address the first question, he settled on responding to the second.

“Well now, I wasn’t on a voyage, and I haven’t exactly worked out all the details, but I assure you there’s a trip to England in your future.”

“I don’t care about England anymore. I just want to be with you.” The boy nestled against Josiah’s neck. “Don’t go away again unless you take me with you. Promise me.”

Josiah patted his brother’s back and tried to ignore the scowl of the boardinghouse owner. “I cannot promise never to leave you, William,” he said, “for what school would take an old man like me as a student?”

The boy began to giggle and, after a while, so did Mrs. Campbell. Josiah seized the moment to begin tickling his brother. Soon the pair were sprawled in the middle of Mrs. Campbell’s parlor with William seated firmly atop Josiah’s chest.

“I’ve bested you, Sir Josiah,” he said. “Now fetch yon pillow, and we shall duel.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Mrs. Campbell said through fits of laughter. “I’ll not have this sort of mischief in my home. Now upstairs the both of you, and be on your best behavior.”

“Aye, Mrs. Campbell,” Josiah said with a smart salute. “Off with you, Sir William, for ’tis past your bedtime, and I’ll not be answering to Miss Emilie for your departure from her schedule.”

“Yes, but now I’ll be staying in your room and not with the ladies, because I’m a man.” He gave Josiah a defiant look. “And since I am a man, I shall keep man hours like you.”

“Indeed you will be a man someday.” Josiah scooped the lad up on his shoulders and hauled him up the stairs. “But tonight, you are a boy, and boys need their rest.” He feigned a yawn. “And so do men. So whichever category, there shall be sleep in the Carter room momentarily.”

But sleep did not come for Josiah. He lay awake listening to the soft, even breathing of the boy he loved enough to move heaven and earth for, enough to steal away from a father Josiah thought would do the lad harm.
 

“Only to prove I am not capable of caring for him, either.”

Josiah leaned over on his side and watched William sleep. Silver rays painted his hair a ghostly pale hue and cast shadows across his childish features. Had he ever been so young?

Tonight the prospect seemed impossible.

Back in Virginia, his mother kept a painting in her bedchamber of him by a fellow named Sully. While his father wished for a dignified portrait of the heir to the pulpit, his mother allowed for one sitting with his favorite playthings. Josiah had run to fetch the toy sailboat that only the week before he had sailed holding to a string along the banks of the New River while his father talked politics and religion with men far too important to be bothered with a lad still in knee pants.

He’d christened that vessel the
Pegasus
, and as Mr. Sully painted, Josiah had told the fellow everything he’d learned about the constellation from the book he’d found in his father’s library. When Mr. Sully offered to paint the vessel’s name on both the portrait and the actual vessel, Josiah was thrilled.

Not long after Mr. Sully completed the painting, Hezekiah caught sight of the name and broken the vessel in two, tossing it into the river while delivering a lengthy diatribe on the blasphemous name he’d chosen. Many years went by before Josiah discovered there was another Pegasus, this one a winged creature from mythology. By then, his impression of his father and what was blasphemous had suffered serious damage.

William stirred, and Josiah patted his back until the boy settled again. Now that he was free to do so, he’d have to write a letter to his mother.

But what would he tell her? That William’s classroom was not inside the venerable gates of the Willington School as she’d planned, but rather in whatever place he and his untrained tutor might choose?

That he’d lost the
Jude
, leaving him with a debt he could not pay on a vessel that no longer existed?
 

That he had a room for tonight only due to the good graces of the woman whose husband had seen him jailed for three weeks?

That his heart was hopelessly lost to a woman he could neither support financially nor marry legally?

He sighed and shifted positions to stare out the open window at the moon reflecting off the now-calm sea. How easy it would be to wonder where they would all be had the ocean not churned the night he made the attempt to reach the harbor.

How futile.

He closed his eyes and let the ghosts of Harrigan, Banks, and the others follow him into his dreams. After a fitful few hours, Josiah climbed out of bed and cast about for Isabelle’s Bible. Perhaps there would be something between its water-damaged covers for the dilemma in which he found himself.

It took only a moment to realize he no longer possessed the Bible, and another moment beyond that to remember why. The following
 
morning, once William had been fed and handed off to Emilie, Josiah set off toward the last place he’d seen it.

Taking the steps of the courthouse two at a time, Josiah stepped inside. A desk cluttered with papers and bearing a sign saying Back Later filled the room. Beyond the desk, an open door revealed the one man he’d hoped to avoid for the remainder of his brief stay in Fairweather Key.

Josiah turned to leave. Better to give the volatile Judge Campbell a wide berth.

Unfortunately, the judge saw him and waved him over. “I see the wife sent you over just as I asked.” He set his pen down. “I love her, but sometimes she can be forgetful.”

Not daring to respond, Josiah merely waited for the judge to get on with whatever conversation he intended to have. Like as not, he’d be doing more jail time over whatever unknown offense he’d committed.

“Actually, I was only hoping to inquire as to the whereabouts of a lost Bible.”

The judge looked at Josiah with what seemed to be equal parts surprise and disbelief. “Sit down, Mr. Carter.”
 

The judge pointed to the lone chair, a carved masterpiece with water-stained silk that looked as if it belonged in some society matron’s drawing room. The desk it sat before was of the same ilk, finely carved and likely expensive. The contrast to the rough-hewn floors and simple construction was striking.

And very much reminiscent of the dinner trays Mrs. O’Mara had delivered to his jail cell.

Josiah complied, albeit reluctantly. Better to humor the judge and leave quickly than irritate him and remain indefinitely.
 

“One never knows what the wreckers will find,” Judge Campbell said as he pushed back from the desk. “In case you were wondering about the furnishings.”

“They did catch my attention.” He touched the arm of the chair, then gave the judge his full attention. “The quality is quite nice.”

Judge Campbell rose to walk around the desk and rest his hip on the edge. “What do you know about wrecking, son?”

“Very little, actually.”

Nodding, the judge crossed his arms over his chest. “You planning to stay long?”

Not if I can help it.
“I had not intended to do more than deliver an ill crew member to the doctor for attention.” He forced himself to pause and keep his expression neutral. “With the loss of my vessel, I’m afraid I’m not certain what my next move will be.”
 

“Yes, well, it’s that ship of yours I’d like to talk to you about. One of the things, anyway.”

“I see.”
Here it comes. Fetch the handcuffs.
“I’ll tell you what I can, sir, but I only possessed the
Jude
for a short while.”
 

He nodded. “So you say.”

Josiah’s temper flared, but he forced himself to ignore it. “Had the vessel not been lost, I would offer proof. At the moment, the only thing I can give you is my word.”

Judge Campbell seemed to be considering the statement. “For now, I suppose that’ll do.”

A thought occurred, and Josiah decided to act on it while the judge seemed in a decent mood. “As I mentioned, I know little about the process of wrecking,” he said slowly, “so I wonder if you might help me understand something.”

“I will if I can.” He shifted positions. “What is it you want to know?”

Help me say this the right way, Lord.
“When a vessel is wrecked, there is compensation to the owner, correct?”

The judge nodded. “Whatever’s brought in is sold at auction. The owner gets half the proceeds, and the wrecker gets a third.”

“Who gets the rest?”

“Me and the state,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I see.” Even in wrecking there was a payoff. “And if there’s an item of sentimental value offered at auction, might the owner be allowed to purchase the item at a fair price before it is shown to the public?”

Judge Campbell gave him a sideways look. “What’re you wanting off that boat, boy?”
 

“A gift I purchased for my mother while in the Orient.” He paused and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “A painted sewing kit with ivory thimbles and thread holders.” He paused. “I looked long and
hard before finding just the right one.”
The truth.
“Of course, ’tis a
small item, so it may well be lost with the ship.”

“It was a gift for your mother?”

“Aye,” he said.

“Tell me what it looks like, and perhaps if I find the time, I’ll search the warehouse for it.”

Not the answer he’d hoped for, yet perhaps there was hope. “Might I see what’s been brought up from the
Jude
? I vouch for the fact we carried no cargo other than the passengers and crew who are currently here. I could then point out the item if I were to see it.”

“I doubt it.” Judge Campbell shrugged. “But I suppose I can look into the possibility. You going to be at the boardinghouse for a while?”

“That remains to be decided.” He rose and looked the judge in the eye. “I’m not a man who takes charity.”

“No,” the judge said slowly, “I didn’t figure you for a man who would.”

Josiah offered his hand, and after a moment, the judge shook it. “Thank you, Judge Campbell,” he said. He turned on his heels and left while the judge’s mood was still good.

“Oh, wait, boy.”

Josiah’s heart sank when he realized the judge had followed him outside. “Yes, sir?”

“I nearly forgot to tell you the most important thing.”

More important than salvaging the
Jude
? “What’s that, Judge?”

“The charges against you have been dropped.”

“Is that so?” Josiah lifted his eyes to give a quick thanks to the only One who could have changed the grumpy old man’s mind. “Well, thank you,” he added.

“No thanks needed,” the judge said as he disappeared inside the courthouse.

Rather than return to the boardinghouse, Josiah headed to the docks. The combination of sunshine and salt-tinged breezes always seemed to lift his spirits.

A familiar vessel loomed ahead, and Josiah picked up his pace. Aboard the
Caroline
was Micah Tate. His red hair was unmistakable, even covered with a workingman’s cap while Tate applied himself to some sort of repair on the aft deck.
 

“Ahoy, Tate,” Josiah called. “Permission to come aboard?”

The wrecker rose. “Don’t need permission here” was his terse reply.

Josiah picked his way across the uneven deck to meet Tate halfway. “I appreciated your visit in jail, Mr. Tate.”

The fellow shook his head and turned back to his work. “If you’re thinking to thank me, you’re wasting your time. I represented all the wreckers.”

“I understand,” he said as he looked around, taking in the shabby condition of the vessel. Funny how he hadn’t noticed any of this the night of the
Jude
’s
sinking.

But then, he’d been focused on Isabelle and Banks, and nothing else took heed.

“Tate, I owe you an apology.”
 

“An apology?” That got the man’s attention. Micah Tate set down his tools and rose. “What for?”

Josiah shrugged. “This is your vessel. I shouldn’t have taken it. I was wrong, and I would ask your forgiveness.” He thrust his hand toward Micah Tate. “If you’re amenable, I’d like a fresh start.”
 

A gull’s cry split the silence, and Josiah watched it land atop the vessel’s wheelhouse on a bucket most likely holding the wrecker’s lunch. For a moment, Tate seemed more interested in the bird than Josiah.

Finally, Tate turned his attention to Josiah. He lifted his cap and swiped at the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand, then replaced the cap. All the while, Tate never took his eyes off Josiah.

“You’re serious,” he finally said.

“I am.”
 

The wake from a two-masted schooner beat a rhythm against the peeling paint of the
Caroline
’s hull and caused the deck to roll. Josiah barely felt it. Rather, he stared at Tate and kept his back straight. He could wait as long as the wrecker wanted; he had nowhere else to go.

Finally, Micah Tate extended his hand to shake Josiah’s. The man had a firm grip and a decent smile when he tried.

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