True Treasure: Real - Life History Mystery (7 page)

“I will bring him. Get back to your room. It is not right to be seen with me in this state of dress.”

Mary hurried back to her quarters and waited next to Magdela’s side. “Agua.”

Mary poured a glass of water and held it up to Magdela’s lips. “Here. The doctor is coming.”

There was a knock at the door followed by the doctor and the captain opening the door and coming in.

The ship’s surgeon had grey hair shaped like a U around his bald pate. He carried a black bag. “Please move back, miss. I do not want to alarm you miss, but she may very well be contagious.”

Mary moved over to Captain Graham’s side. She lightly reached out to hold onto his arm as the ship swayed. He pulled her closer to his side. The earlier storms the ship had evaded had kicked up the waves, which the ship rode roughly. They stood side by side, the captain steadying Mary on her feet. She could feel him as he drew a breath, and another. Why was it she felt so alive when she stood next to him?

The doctor peered closely into Magdela’s eyes, and felt her forehead. “Where is the pain?” he asked.

Magdela showed him with her hand.

The doctor finished examining her and turned toward Mary and Graham, “She has a fever. I need her moved to the surgery room where I can watch her and in case the fever is contagious. We do not need the sickness to spread among the men on the ship.”

Mary clutched at Graham’s arm, “It is worse than I thought.”

Graham looked toward Mary, “Do not worry, but do pray.”

The doctor left, leaving Mary and Graham alone for the moment with the feverish Magdela.

“Will she be all right?”

Graham studied Magdela who appeared to be in an uneasy sleep. “The surgeon will do his best. Prayer can work wonders.”

Graham glanced around the room, anything to avoid looking into Mary’s eyes. He spied the painting in progress on the easel. He let go of Mary’s arm and took a step closer toward the painting illuminated in the dim light.

Mary spoke, “It is a present for you, not King George.”

Graham took another step toward the easel and looked at the painting of himself.

“Is that how I look to you?”

“Yes.”

Graham turned and looked at Mary. She did not look away. She clutched her hand to her stomach her heart beating faster. Graham looked away back toward the painting. “Mary, don’t.”

Mary broke the silence, her anger and frustration raising the volume of her voice, “How is it you are a man who can command a ship of men to do your bidding, yet you cannot think of a way to find what we both would have?”

He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He turned to face her, “Life is sacrifice. Love is sacrifice. If there were a way I would find it.”

Mary took a step closer, “You will find a way?”

“On my word of honor if there is one to be found, I will find it.” He bent his head towards hers, and whispered, “It is all I can give.”

He stepped back and left the room to wait in the hall as Mary waited on the men to move Magdela to the doctor’s surgery room.

***

Captain Graham woke in the morning and went to the doctor’s quarters which were attached to a room where the sick were sent. He knocked and entered. The doctor was washing in his basin.

“How is she—” Captain Graham began to ask as he stepped into the patient’s room. Magdela's lips were blue.

“She died before dawn. There was nothing I could do. Her lower stomach region was bloated and hot. Some interior infection has taken her life. I will prepare her for burial.”

The captain nodded. “Thank you, Thomas.”

The doctor dried off his hands meticulously hanging the towel back on a small rack.

***

The next day dawned followed shortly by a cabin boy bringing Mary her breakfast tray. “Would you come back to show me to the surgery? I would like to check on my chaperone.”

“Miss, I will get the doctor.”

Mary only picked at her food. She worried about Magdela. Had she caught something on the ship? Was anyone else sick? If they had been on land would Magdela still have gotten ill? Did the doctor have the medicines needed to cure her? The guilt of being attracted to the captain while Magdela was fighting for her life hit her hard. How could she be so selfish? Every thought should be for Magdela’s safety. Every prayer should be about her health, but in the middle of her prayers, she would catch herself asking God to make a future for her and Bennett together.

All too soon there was a knock at the door.

She swung it open expecting to see the doctor, but it was Bennett.

He stepped inside and closed the door with his hand behind him. He took the other and reached for her arm, “I am sorry. Magdela passed away before dawn.”

Mary let out a sound and fell against him. He held her as she cried. He rocked her gently leaning his head on hers.

Death would be acknowledged, and take the offerings of tears and cries, the debt it felt it was owed by the living.

When her tears had slowed, and her breathing calmed, he said, “We must go up top and pay our respects as she is laid to rest.”

“What?” Mary said into his chest unwilling to part from the comfort of his arms.

“I am sorry, but we must do a burial at sea. We are too far away from port, and it is too risky taking the boat towards the shallows by shore.”

Mary dried at her eyes with the back of her hand. She slowly lifted her head from his chest.

She took a deep breath and said, “I am ready.”

He escorted her up the stairs to the deck where all the men were mustered. Magdela’s body was encased in a thick canvass bag, balanced on a plank near the edge. The first officer handed Bennett a Bible, from which he began to read the Lord’s Prayer. When he finished, he closed it and spoke, “The sea will one day give up its dead for judgment. May she rest in peace until that great day. Amen.”

All the men followed with a murmured, “Amen.”

The men holding the plank tilted it, as Magdela was given to the sea.

A cabin boy escorted Mary back to her cabin. She locked herself in and cried the rest of the day away. She wouldn’t open the door for a tray at lunch or even when the captain came knocking later in the day. She slept.

When she’d exhausted every tear, Mary hoped the nightmare would be gone when she awoke. She stayed in bed until the sun rose again. She went to her easel and worked on her paintings, making them as real as she could. If she could bring her paintings to life then maybe Magdela would come alive, too. It was a foolish thought she knew, but it gave her a purpose. When Magdela was sick she had not given her as much thought or attention as she could have. This was one way to honor her memory, the only way she had, the only way her talent let her.

Mary heard another knock at the door, “You must eat, or you will get sick.”

It was one of the cabin boys calling to her. Mary raised her voice, “Leave it, I am working.”

She stayed in and worked on turning the sketches she’d done in to vibrant living moments. She knew she would get restless and need to go on deck soon. She half hoped the captain would come to check on her again, but he did not. His absence spoke to her more than his presence could. She saw the way he looked at her, and she could not help but look back. The men would talk, if they weren’t already. She was an unescorted woman on the ship. Her honor was in grave danger, and she could see no way to save it from gossip. Her thoughts would flit between grief over Magdela, and longing for Graham, and fear over what would happen when she returned to shore alone, without Magdela. Her thoughts were swaying like the unpredictable motions of the waves just outside her cabin porthole.

***

A Few Days Later

“Sir?”

“Come in,” Graham said.

Randall Cullen, Captain Graham’s first officer, entered his stateroom saying, “The weather is holding and we should be rounding the first of the southernmost islands this evening.” He laid the night’s report on the captain’s desk.

“And the surveyors? How are they holding up?” he asked as he buttoned his shirt and shrugged into his coat.

“Glad they drew this commission sir, in a temperate zone rather than one to the north.”

Graham chuckled, “Yes, conditions could be worse.”

“Any sign of pirates? Glints on the horizon, horns, shouts on the wind, smoke in the fog?”

“No sir, they are lying low. The men are on alert. The first attack has made them aware of the potential for battle around every corner. We are prepared for when it happens.”

“Good,” Graham said as he finished buttoning his coat.

Graham looked at his visage in the mirror, and ran his fingers through his hair to comb it into place. “Yes? Is there something else?”

“We may have a problem. One I had not anticipated before I pulled my little prank.” Randall looked at his boot tips. “Miss Welch.”

Bennett went to his desk to look at the night’s report. “Yes, what about Ms. Welch?”

“She is unchaperoned on a ship of men—there will be talk.”

“She will not be compromised. All visits have been supervised, and she is always attended to by a cabin boy, not a man.”

“Her family—”

“Yes?”

“There is the possibility—they will not accept her back.”

Bennett nodded. He did not look up from his paperwork.

Randall continued, “Even the colonials have their formalities. She may be shunned.”

Bennett sighed, and sat back in his chair looking up at Randall, “I have considered her fate.”

“Yes—you have?”

“If she returned married, granted, they may see an Englishman, a captain in the service of his King, a step down, but a married woman would still have her honor and not be shunned.”

“Yes.”

“Then any gossip would be restricted to ‘she ran away for an adventure and found a husband’ a much more palatable end than one of a fallen single woman returning.”

“Yes.”

“And your honest opinion, Randall?”

Randall stood thinking for a minute, raised his eyebrows and said, “Congratulations, may you both be very happy.”

Graham smiled.

“When will you speak to the lady about your intentions?” Randall asked.

“Soon. Very soon.”

There was a knock on the door followed by a cabin boy bursting in, his eyes lit with excitement, “Pirates, captain, on the far side of the southern end of the seaside of the island. They are attacking a galleon wrecked on the breakers! She looks like she is taking on water.”

Captain Graham replied, “Muster all the men to their stations!”

*

***

*****

***

*

CHAPTER 3

Keiko, Julian, and Ray

There was a knock at the door. Keiko opened it, “Ray!” Keiko embraced Ray in a hug.

“Julian, it’s your dad.”

“Where is he?” Ray said after he hugged Keiko and walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a Coke.

“He’s in the attic getting down some luggage for the trip.”

Keiko said, “Make yourself at home. I have some notes to organize in the office.”

“Always do,” Ray said, as he walked into the living room, kicked off his shoes, and put his sock clad feet up on the coffee table.

“Keiko, have you put in a security system yet? If not, my wedding gift to you guys is I’ll have the place wired while you’re gone, just leave me the key.”

“That’s between you and Julian
,” Keiko called out from the office.

“What?” Julian said as he came down, his hands full of assorted bags. Keiko came out of the office and kissed him on the cheek as he bent down, “Here, which of these do you think will work?” he set the luggage down.

“Your dad is in the living room. He wants to wire the house for security while we’re gone.”

“Dad,” Julian said as a greeting as he entered the living room.

Ray got up to give Julian a handshake and half hug. “Give me a key son, and I’ll get this place fixed up right.”

Julian laughed. “Only monitoring
inside,
and security cameras
outside
the home. I mean it Ray. This place doesn’t need to be a mini Fort Knox.”

“You can’t be too safe. How about bulletproof glass for the windows? At least here and
in the bedroom. You can consider that a Christmas present. Besides, if you don’t, I won’t be able to sleep at night from worrying about my future grandkids.” Ray was a former CIA operative and after the incident tracking the missing star from the Star Spangled Banner had put Keiko and Julian in danger, Ray felt his level of prepared paranoia should be adopted by Keiko and Julian.

“If you install
interior
cameras, there won’t be any future grandkids,” Julian joked back.

“Dad, did you forget I’m ex-special forces. I can handle any level of criminal you can.”