The Stolen Heart (10 page)

 

 

“Bite your tongue, lad,” Cook said. “That talk is almost mutiny.
It's the way we earn a living, us and hundreds of other ships all
over the world.”

 

 

“But it seems so unfair. It's a magnificent creature, after all.”

 

 

“I'm sure there is something in the Bible about man being above the
beasts,” the Cook said mildly.

 

 

Al shook her head. “It's easy enough to quote Scripture to support
one’s own beliefs. I can't think we were meant to just kill every
whale we lay our eyes on.”

 

 

“The lad is cracked,” George said with a shake of his head.

 

 

“Perhaps not,” Jared said, making his presence behind them known for
the first time. “In a large pod, I try to mark off the largest ones
with the most oil, and I would never kill a whale calf the way many
would. The mothers will never leave their child, you know.

 

 

"Other whalemen harpoon them and then lure the mother to certain
death. But there's no point in killing an infant. It has hardly any
oil in it, and we will never be able to help replenish the supply of
whales if we do that.

 

 

"My cousin Dare would agree with me on this, and he and his wife
would agree with you, Al, that it's wrong to keep taking out of the
sea without giving anything back.”

 

 

Al said enthusiastically. “Aye, that’s just it, sir. We
can’t
give it back. We’ve been very successful, but that only means that
more men want to follow your example, with the potential to let
greed get the better of them.”

 

 

Jared nodded. “That’s true. Greed is the killer. Fortunately, the
danger and harsh conditions alone should deter most people from
seeking whales.”

 

 

“But if the items become scarce, it will only drive the price up,”
Almira argued, “and cause more men to be prompted by greed into
seeking them.”

 

 

“There’s no easy answer. But I'm glad you're not one of those people
who wants to slaughter everything in sight.”

 

 

“No, not at all,” she said stoutly, despite the fact that a few of
the others on whalebone duty were still shaking their heads.

 

 

“Very good. Anyway, carry on cleaning. Dinner in an hour.”

 

 

He gave her a warm smile which made her heart flutter in her chest
like a butterfly in flight, and then moved aft toward his cabin.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

Three days later, George espied a pod off the starboard bow, a large
one of sperm whales.

 

 

Al was on deck when the cry went up, and saw them only a short
distance away.

 

 

“Al, come with me!” Second commanded.

 

 

“But I’m-”

 

 

“Captain said to give you some whaleboat practice, so here’s your
chance. A short pull out, and we’ll fasten onto one and give you the
ride of your life.”

 

 

She smiled wanly, but when she met Jared’s eyes and he nodded at her
reassuringly, she decided she would try.

 

 

It was indeed a short pull out to the pod, but not much of a ride,
for the first harpoon they fastened on came out a short time later,
and Second had them row back around to try to secure another one.

 

 

The problem came when they approached the pod again. One of them
breached out of the water, coming crashing down a short distance
from the boat with a huge splash and bash of fin.

 

 

The whaleboat shot up into the air and was smashed into pieces by
the great appendage that swung at them broadside.

 

 

"Oh, God!" Almira could feel herself sailing up into the air, before
smashing back down onto the pitiful remnants of the small boat she
had been rowing only a moment before.

 

 

The pain shot through her side and breast, and knocked the wind
right out of her. She tried not to panic, knowing her breath would
come back in a moment. She just had to float on her back and keep
her head above water, just cling to the boat shards until help came.

 

 

She looked around and saw Second in the water some distance away
from her, and a couple of the other men bobbing up and down to her
right.

 

 

“To me, men, to me,” she gasped, gauging the size of her plank was
more than big enough to hold more than just herself.

 

 

She waved her hand, but did not let go of the flotsam.

 

 

Second swam over to her and asked, “Are you all right?”

 

 

“Aye,” she wheezed, “but there goes another boat.”

 

 

Second sighed. “I know. But maybe we can repair it. There is the
bow, and the stern is floating over there. Are you hurt?”

 

 

“Wind knocked out of me. I’ll be all right. Go see about the others.
I’ll stay here.”

 

 

Second herded them all together, and Almira bobbed up and down in
the cold waves with them until at last, about twenty minutes later,
the ship’s boat came out to fetch them.

 

 

She nearly passed out as someone grasped her arm and side to lift
her into the boat. She knew she was badly hurt, but the question was
what to do about it.

 

 

She hoped she would be able to take care of herself, but if the
injury was as serious as it felt, she knew she was going to have to
confide in someone.

 

 

There were only two people on the ship whom she would trust to know
she was a woman. One was of course Jared, but that was out of the
question. As soon as he discovered she was really a woman, he would
put her down in the nearest port, and that would be the end of any
chance of helping Adrian or locating her father, if he was still
alive.

 

 

She could try to ship out on another whaler, if they needed crew,
but she might end up in a far worse position than cabin boy. She
knew she had come a long way in terms of skills since she had left
home so many weeks before, but she was still not the ideal
greenhand.

 

 

Having to live in the focsle or steerage with several men at a time
was bound to lead to problems, and once her identity was known, far
worse could happen to her than just being put off at the next port.

 

 

No, telling Jared was out of the question. That left only Cook. He
had been more than kind to her, and though he was still young and
strong enough to be a potential problem should he choose to pester
her, she thought him trustworthy enough to at least take a chance on
telling him the truth.

 

 

Once they got back to the ship, she followed him into the galley,
and said, “Cook, can I speak with you a minute, privately?”

 

 

He looked at her in surprise. “We’re supposed to be helping sharpen
the knives in the blubber room, but I think we can be spared for a
little while longer.”

 

 

She motioned him to the aft cabin, which he shared with the steward,
and once they were both inside, she closed the door.

 

 

“All right, lad, I’m here. What is the problem?”

 

 

“I need your help. But you can’t tell anyone, do you hear me? No
one.”

 

 

“I won’t, lad, I promise. What is it?”

 

 

She took a deep steadying breath. “That’s just it. I’m not a lad,
I’m a lass.”

 

 

He shook his head. “Oh, quit your jokes, Al. I have dinner to get
soon and we need to sharpen those knives.”

 

 

“No, Cook, I’m not joking. I’m a girl and I need your help. That
fall from the boat was bad. I can’t tell the Captain. He’ll send me
home. But I’m worse injured than I let on. Might be a couple of
broken ribs. It’s just that, well, I can’t tell at the minute
because I can't see, and I can’t move my arm to get undressed.”

 

 

“What are you saying?” Cook was staring at her as if she has gone
mad.

 

 

“I’m a woman. You know. We're built different from you. I’m injured
here.”

 

 

She put her hand on the left side of his chest, curling the hand
around the side of his rib cage. “I can barely lift my arm. My, my
breasts, they’re strapped down. I can’t get them unstrapped to see
how bad it is. I can’t reach, and I'm soaking wet anyway. The ties
are all knotted. I need to trust you that you won’t tell and won’t,
er, take advantage.”

 

 

He stared at her goggle-eyed. “No, no, I wouldn’t dream of it. But
what on earth are you doing here on a whaleboat, child? All the
rough men… And Jesus, we’ve taken showers in front of you, curse,
spat, whizzed. Oh, Lord.” He blushed to the roots of his hair and
didn’t know where to look.

 

 

“I’m sorry, Cook. I never wanted to deceive anyone. I’m looking for
my father and brother, just like I told you. I’m certainly not here
for a cruise in the nice sea air, now am I?” she added
sarcastically, when he continued to stared at her in disbelief.

 

 

“Everything I have ever told you about me is true, except that I’m a
girl. I don’t think ill of you, and I despise artificial social
pretensions, where we all make believe that women don’t have legs,
and encase them in yards of material and whalebone to make them
untouchable, and make the women miserable and constrained.”

 

 

“All right, all right, I believe you. But we’re not going to argue
about this now, not when someone might come in and see you here and
wonder what's going on.” He lit a lantern and checked to make sure
she had locked the door.

 

 

She helped him unbutton her shirt, but her sleeveless top had to go
over her head, and she could not manage it.

 

 

Cook gave up. “It’s all right, leave it on for the moment. It will
cover your other, er, um, breast. I'll try to respect your modesty
as much as possible.”

 

 

“Thank you. I do trust you.”

 

 

“I might have to, well, oh, Lord, touch you, you know.”

 

 

She nodded. “I need to trust you. It's either you or the Captain,
and I refuse to be sent home, Cook. Not when I’ve come so far.”

 

 

He sighed. “All right, so long as you don’t mind.”

 

 

“How could I mind? I can barely breathe.”

 

 

“That bad?”

 

 

“I landed with a slap in the water, right on some flotsam from the
wreck.”

 

 

“There might even be splinters. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

 

He felt under the shirt carefully, and found the tied end of the
strapping. Working it loose with his fingers, he unwounded it, and
then looked in the armhole of the sleeveless shirt.

 

 

“My God. You're black and blue right down your side, from armpit to
waist. And down your front, so far as I can see without pulling your
shirt all the way up.”

 

 

He tugged the u-necked shirt downwards a bit more and saw the
rounded top of the breast was purple too.

 

 

He shook his head and sighed. “We're going to need to get you some
cream to reduce the swelling, and while I reckon it is going to hurt
like the devil, I think we should strap you up again. If it hurts
when you breathe, it probably means the ribs are cracked."

 

 

"I can't tell, I'm still having trouble breathing," she admitted,
sitting on the edge of Cookie's bunk before she swooned with pain.

 

 

"All right, steady on. I'm just going to feel what I can. So long as
they aren’t broken, we probably don’t have too much to worry about.
They will be sore for a while, but they'll mend.”

 

 

“And if they are broken?” she askeed quietly, worrying her lower lip
between her teeth.

 

 

“Then we need to watch you, make sure that your lung or something
else important hasn’t been punctured.”

 

 

“I see. Well, do your best. I trust you.”

 

 

She winced a few times as Cook’s examination progressed downwards,
but she could take a deeper breath without the strapping.

 

 

“Cracked, I think,” he proclaimed a short time later.

 

 

“Let’s hope so.”

 

 

“Right, I have some of that cream here, in my kit. The captain might
have more in the medicine chest.”

 

 

She shook her head. “I don’t want to ask him, or let him know I’m
injured. If he finds out, he’ll offer to help. He already wonders
why I don’t parade naked all over the deck or the cabin the way the
rest of you do.”

 

 

“Just as well. You would cause a riot if you did.”

 

 

At her reproachful look, he said, “Sorry, bad joke. But it's going
to be really hard to keep this a secret. You think you're sore now,
just wait a few more days. Your cabin duties are going to be hard
enough. What about the trying out?”

 

 

“What do you suggest, then? I have no idea how I’m going to manage.
I've never been hurt this bad before.”

 

 

Cook shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s get you patched up, and
then we can figure something out. I mean, you did nearly drown,” he
said as he began to smooth on the cream as gently as possible.

 

 

“Everyone saw you, and one or two of the other men in Second’s boat
must be suffering a bit too. You can sharpen knives and peel spuds
and the like. We can just tell Second and the Captain that you
twisted you back or something. If you avoid Mate, it should be
fine.”

 

 

“It might work,” she conceded, but still looked doubtful.