Page 137 of In the Pursuit of Haven
Their daughter, Mary, had married Captain Bowditch in 1688—this couple made great candidates as the ones who’d be working with Crabb. The two men might’ve known each other from their ocean voyages.
Glancing at the line of ancestors from this captain all the way to Nathaniel Bowditch, I saw that they’d married into the Turner family, the Ingersoll family, and then, of course, the Crowninshields! That’s why his name kept turning up in our research. Salem’s mapmaker had so many ties to the other Shepherds of the Relics throughout the years that surely, this couldn’t be coincidence.
Straightening in excitement, I slipped out the Bowditch map from Haven’s desk and unrolled it. My heart leaped with renewed interest when I saw the pictures Haven had marked up on the cartouche—the illustrations Bowditch had used to emphasize the title of the map were decorated with scenes of a ship docked at the wharf and a boat at a lighthouse.
Haven had circled the cleat keeping a boat in place, but from there things got weird. The cleat had the shadow of an anchor to the left of it, or maybe they were arrows on a compass—both arrows pointed opposite directions.
Staring at the illustration, I tried to figure out where this scene was.Forget working this out on my own!I went online next to see if anyone else knew the location.Nope!The scenes depicted in the cartouche were supposed to be in Salem, but no one knew the exact details.
So where… where was this? The two arrows pointing different directions felt significant.
Once again, I wished Haven was here to explain why she’d circled the docking cleat.
A creak on the ladder made my chin snap up. As soon as I saw Jessie, I smiled—perhaps against my will, but I was always happy to see him, though maybe a little nervous after our argument. I just wanted to forget what the future held for us and concentrate on this distraction. Jessie would be all over this. “You won’t believe this, but Abby got a pretty good lead from Davey. The last Relic is related to Nathaniel Bowditch… you know? The map guy!”
“I know who he is,” Jessie said. It came out a little more forcefully than usual. He leaned heavily against the desk. I noticed what he held—those stupid divorce papers. “I signed them.” His words were soft, but what he’d done filled me with more pain than all his missteps together. He tossed the papers on the desk over Bowditch’s map.
My brow wrinkled as I studied his familiar signature. A sick feeling permeated my stomach. That was the only thing that told me this was real. The next indication was the feel of the paper under my fingers. Jessie thought this was what I wanted.Did I?His face was unreadable—I knew when he was hiding his pain from me.
I scowled.I’d found every excuse not to give these to him, so no, no, this isn’t what I want. No! Not ever!“Get your own divorce papers,” I shouted. “You can’t use mine.”
Jessie startled, even more so when I ripped up the papers into tiny pieces and threw them in the trash. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Not thinking, not thinking at all!“I’m burning those,” I said, jabbing my finger in their direction. “And by the way? Don’t keep anything from me again. If Ithinksome woman named Divine is coming onto you then I want you to tell me right away she’s a treasure hunter and that ‘Oh, by the way, you and I should work behind her back to find that treasure ourselves!’ Okay? That’s what I want. Not this!”
His mouth moved, but nothing came out. He tried again then bit down on his lips. I waited tensely, hoping that he hadn’t wanted to sign them, that he hadn’t felt some kind of relief when he’d torn asunder everything we had left to us with the ink of his pen. After a moment, he swallowed. “Roxy,” he finally got out.
I didn’t want to hear, but he deserved to have me hear him. I sucked in a miserable breath before I could answer. “What?”
He leaned over me and kissed me.Please, say that means he wants this to work!I dove into his embrace, confessing how scared I was of getting hurt, declaring my intentions of cutting my long hours at the museum, accepting his apologies, laughing for joy and… great! I was crying again. I really needed to get a handle on myself, but these turbulent emotions just kept coming. I supposed they would until we breathed out our last.
I kissed him again and drew back. “Do you want to stay married to me?” I asked.
“Yes!” He sounded so sure about it that I couldn’t doubt him again. “What about you?”
“Yes!”I’m in—I’d hold onto him like a woman drowning in the sea.I hope that means I’m not going to take him down with me. Oh, stop thinking already!“Don’t ever do that to me again,” I said.
“Don’tyouever bring home divorce papers,” he returned.
“No, I won’t,” I said. “I won’t! You’re safe! We’re safe with each other!” I had no plans of blindsiding him, and if he tried to shut me out again? I’d come for him. I’d come for him over and over. His fingers tightened over my back, and I could feel for myself that he had no intention of going anywhere.
My shoulder ran up against the desk as we celebrated another day of being together. His mouth found mine, his nose pressing up against my cheek, his breath tickling my ear, making me laugh helplessly. Jessie glanced over my shoulder at the Bowditch map where Haven had circled the cleat anchor. “That’s the middle of a compass,” he said breathlessly. “I know where that is…”
I twisted around, my chin almost smacking up against the map. At this angle, I realized I’d seen a part of this compass too. We’d trampled over one like that painted onto the sidewalk multiple times after leaving the Witch Museum.
“Bowditch’s house,” I said. Jessie released me just enough that I could grasp the map. I noticed that the house depicted on the cartouche looked very similar to the iconic one on North Street—it was three stories high with shingled siding. The door even looked the same, though of course Bowditch’s house wasn’t on the wharf like this showed.
Jessie squeezed me tightly, his chin resting on the top of my head. He wasn’t letting me get too far from him, and I was more than okay with that. “We’ve been walking on top of that old compass for years,” he said. “I hardly looked at it twice…”
My eyes veered to the black windows. It was dark, but only eight at night. That was the beauty of winter. We could hide in the shadows and still get back in time to get our beauty rest.
“Let’s get this Relic, babe,” I said.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Our flashlights ran over the nautical compass painted against the red bricks in front of Bowditch’s home. Who knew who’d put this iconic marker in and during what era, but with Shepherds working double time to keep the Relics in plain sight, while far enough away from the average bystander, it could’ve been anyone.
My eyes went back to the picture Haven had circled on the famous map.
