Page 39 of Save the Dance

Straightening, she gave him the answer she’d prepared. “All the previous articles on Heart’s Landing have focused on the services the town provides for the brides and grooms who choose to hold their weddings here. Mine will include that, of course, but I also want to give our readers a sense of history. I want them to know how Heart’s Landing came into being and why it’s become America’s Top Wedding Destination. To do that, I have to learn all there is to know about Captain Thaddeus’s and Mary’s love for one another.”

“You think you’ll find what you’re looking for in his ship’s logs?” Jason’s eyebrows rose in what could only be described as a skeptical glance.

“I’ve only read about half of the journals, but I ran across several mentions of the stone hearts Thaddeus carved for Mary. At least, I think I did.” Between the stilted prose, the ornate penmanship, and the fact that the logs were written on a rolling ship, she’d had trouble deciphering some of the passages.

“You don’t need to plow through all these to get what you’re after.” Jason gestured toward the log books. “The pageant on Saturday will tell you everything you need to know.”

“That’s only a reenactment. Someone else’s interpretation.” She prided herself on doing her own research. “I want to share his experiences through his eyes. I need to know what it was like to spend days on end sailing beneath clear skies in order to appreciate how horrible it must have been when huge waves broke over the sides of the ship. Understanding the sheer monotony of a normal day will make me more aware of the terror that must have filled the crew when the captain ordered them to sail straight into a hurricane.”

Jason nodded slowly. “I get it. I do. When I was fifteen, I took one of the Cottage’s Beetle Cats out on my own. I was young and stupid and didn’t pay attention to the weather until it was too late. The storm caught me just off the point. It tossed that little sailboat around for a couple of hours like it was a piece of driftwood.”

She tried to imagine what it must’ve been like for him, alone on the ocean, buffeted by the wind and rain, lightning flashing in the distance. Her hand trembled. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. “Do you still sail?”

“I do.” He nodded. “But I’m more careful. A lot more.” He stared at the stacks of journals and ledgers. “How can I help?”

She tapped a pencil against the desk. She was walking a perilous tightrope by working with Jason. He’d never forgive her if she succeeded at what she’d set out to do. He’d never forgive himself if he helped her. “Don’t you have something else you need to do?” she suggested. “This can’t be the only thing on your agenda today.”

“I promised to take you up to the widow’s walk and help you with your research. I always keep my promises. So where do I start?” He slid gracefully onto the chair next to her.

Well, she’d tried to talk him out of it. With about as much success as she’d had when she’d tried to talk herself out of falling for him. She inhaled slowly. “You probably know these logs better than anyone. Could you help me go through them and earmark the references Captain Thaddeus made to his wife’s birthday?”

She’d given up on disproving the legend of the stone hearts. In numerous entries, Captain Thaddeus had mentioned working on them. She knew for a fact they existed. She’d personally seen them mounted on buildings throughout the town.

That left the hurricane. Legend had it that one fall, the captain had braved howling winds and high seas in order to reach port in time for his wife’s birthday. Official weather reports dating back that far were sketchy, at best. According to those still in existence, only one strong October storm had come as far north as Rhode Island during the late 1800s. So far, she’d been unable to find an account of it in any of the Mary Shelby’s log books. But she’d have to if she was going to debunk the myth that the captain had loved his wife so much that he’d risked his life, his ship, and his crew for her.

“Glad to help.” Jason took the first journal from the stack and began paging through it. Five pages in, he marked a spot with a scrap of paper.

An hour passed. Then two. Occasionally, she’d interrupt to ask for Jason’s help in deciphering a word or phrase. Sometimes, he’d read an excerpt from a particularly exciting passage aloud. Together, they spent the afternoon poring over the remaining ship’s logs. Four hours later, she was no closer to finding what she needed than she had been at the start.

Only one of the journals remained on the table. She reached for it. According to the first entry, the captain started the book in 1897. This account offered little change from the minutia of daily life onboard the Mary Shelby recounted in all the other journals. Following Jason’s advice to pay attention to every detail, she scanned the bills of lading, inventories, and nightly distributions of the crew’s rum. Captain Thaddeus’s report of making port in New York where the crew off-loaded cargo and took on fresh supplies varied little from previous accounts. The only difference being that, at some point, the Captain had acquired a new pen. The finer point made his handwriting even more difficult to decipher, and she squinted as she continued reading after the ship weighed anchor on October 10th, bound for Heart’s Landing.

She’d nearly reached the end of the journal when she stumbled across a passage about a storm. Her breath caught. Her grip on the aged leather tightened. This had to be the event she’d been searching for. Sticking her finger in the log book to hold her place, she tapped Jason on the shoulder. “Listen to this.” She read the section aloud.

We encountered a squall at eight bells of the morning watch. The crew reefed the sails without delay. While rain fell in thick sheets, I kept the nose of the Mary S headed into the wind. By the afternoon watch, we were past the worst of it. The crew having comported themselves well, we suffered no loss of life nor cargo. God willing, the Mary S shall drop anchor in Heart’s Landing on the morrow.

She let the cover fall closed. “Well, that was a bit of a letdown. Not much of a hurricane, was it?”

Jason studied her, amusement shining in his dark eyes. “What did you expect?”

From the man who’d taken four pages to describe the visit of a pod of whales? Who’d described the gleaming scales of flying fish in such detail she could see them if she closed her eyes? “After all the hype, a more detailed accounting at the very least. Where are the monstrous waves crashing over the deck? The blinding rain? The howling winds?”

“Thaddeus was a ship’s captain, not a dime novelist. His reports are a bit dry and to the point.”

She tugged on the end of her ponytail. The strands slipped through her fingers. As far as swashbuckling tales of terror on the high seas went, the account left a lot to be desired. Growing up in Savannah, she was no stranger to hurricanes. They were massive storms that stretched out from a central eye in a series of rings. While the winds around the eye could topple buildings and uproot trees, the feeder bands on the outer edges were often little more than summer squalls. According to the legend, Captain Thaddeus had sailed his ship straight through a hurricane to reach port. But from his report, it sounded like the Mary Shelby had only encountered one of the weaker bands.

Was that enough to undermine the captain’s reputation? She shook her head. No one could deny that Thaddeus had sailed through rough weather. Quibbling over whether or not he’d faced the worst of the storm would make Weddings Today look small-minded and mean. Her heart sank lower as she thumbed through the journal. As much as she wanted to save her job, it was time to throw in the towel. Despite all the nights she’d spent paging through the ship’s logs, and despite Jason’s help, she’d found no proof, no evidence that would destroy the legend of Captain Thaddeus.

Quite the contrary. In every reference, the good captain professed his love for Mary. He had chosen stone for the hearts he carved for her so they’d last for generations, like his love for her. He’d sailed his ship through a hurricane—or at least the outer edges of one—to reach port for his wife’s birthday.

Regina had demanded that she destroy the legend, and she’d done her best to carry out the editor’s wishes. She’d failed because her boss had been wrong. Thaddeus and Mary’s love for one another had indeed been strong enough to form the foundation of Heart’s Landing.

Tara’s breath came in easy gulps. Her heart skipped to the happy beat of one of the tunes she’d practiced with Evelyn. A smile tugged at her lips. There was another plus to proving that Thaddeus’s legend was true. It freed her to think about Jason in a new light. True, they’d face other hurdles. She did, after all, live in New York, not Rhode Island. But now that she was no longer focused on destroying the myth behind Heart’s Landing—and Jason’s livelihood, as well—she was free to explore her feelings for him.

Before she could do that, though, she needed to talk with Regina. According to tonight’s schedule, she and Jason were having dinner with several of the town’s dignitaries at A Cut Above Steakhouse. She checked her watch. If she hurried, she had just enough time to contact her boss before dinner.

Chapter Thirteen

“Tara, I’ve looked over all your reports. I appreciate your efforts to keep me informed.” Regina’s precise tones didn’t offer the slightest hint of whether she’d actually liked what she’d read or not.

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