Page 37 of Rose
Chapter Fourteen
Rose scanned the busy deck, her heart beating wildly. The crew scurried up and down the rigging, toting lines as they prepared to unfurl the massive square sail. Another group of men hoisted the anchor. Her eyes brightened when she spotted Davy coiling the wet anchor line into a large wooden crate. She hastened over to help him.
Coming up behind the cabin boy, she guided the line into a neater coil.
“Mistress Thatcher?” Davy gasped when he noticed her.
She smiled. “Rose will do nicely,” she said. Then before he could protest her efforts, she pointed to the line bunching at his feet. “Ye’re getting behind,” she warned.
He turned and quickly took up the dripping rope, feeding her the wet length.
“Rose,” someone said behind her.
Rose’s shoulders stiffened as she recognized Tristan’s deep voice. She turned around to meet his gaze, but she did not quit feeding the line into the crate.
He motioned for her to join him.
“I will be right back,” she said to Davy who looked past her at Tristan with wide, terrified eyes.
“Don’t be daft, Davy,” she scolded. “Ye’ve done nothing wrong, and neither have I. He likely wants to commend our good work.”
The moment she locked eyes again with Tristan, she knew she was mistaken. His disapproval was present in the heavy furrow of his brow. She crossed to his side and started talking before he could. “Ye cannot possibly object to me coiling a wee bit of line.”
Tristan looked like he wanted to praise her and take her over his knee all at the same time. He drew closer and bent his head near her ear. “But you are my wife now, Rose. Remember? It is not appropriate for you to scurry about the ship like one of my crew.”
She lifted her shoulders. “But I am not a pampered merchant’s daughter or noblewoman. Yer men know my humble origins.” She held out her calloused palms. “I’ve spent my life laboring. Ye ken I’ll go mad, if I do not have some purpose.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her green tunic. “I’m wearing my most serviceable garment.”
He only shook his head in response.
She bristled. “Do ye really want a mad woman on yer ship?”
“She makes a strong argument,” Philip chimed in, appearing at her side. “Mad women are messy creatures.”
The stubborn lines in Tristan’s face softened. He threw his hands up. “Help Davy, then. But you’re not to climb the rigging, and I forbid you from hoisting the anchor.”
She smiled. “Thank ye.” Then she turned on her heel and started to walk away.
“Rose,” Tristan said, drawing her gaze once more. “If any of the men look at you…well…like you’re mad, just tell them captain’s orders.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” she said with a wink. Then she hurried back to Davy’s side. After they finished storing the anchor line, she helped him clean the grit and salt off the anchor’s fluke. By then, she and Davy were fast friends. She found out that he was a Londoner and the oldest of five children. When he was just twelve years of age, his father had passed away. That was when he signed on with Tristan so that he could provide for his mother and younger siblings. This was the final leg of a two year stretch at sea.
“Ye must be aching to see yer mum and yer brothers and sisters,” Rose said.
Davy nodded, his red curls bouncing. “They give me a hero’s welcome whenever I return home.”
She smiled. “As well they should. Ye work hard caring for the ones ye love.”
“Davy, stop gawking at the captain’s wife and get to your post,” Piper called from across the deck.
Davy’s ears turned red, but his smile didn’t falter. “Up I go.” Then he turned and grabbed the rigging. His young, agile body nimbly climbed to the top. Rose stood watching with admiration as he balanced across the yard, then dropped into the nest.
“There’s room for one more,” he called down to her.
She smiled and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Are ye daft? I’d kill myself climbing up there.”
“You’ll be fine,” the lad shouted. “Don’t you want to see the world from up here.”
She smiled. “More than ye could possibly know, but that doesn’t mean I can. Anyway, Captain’s forbade me.”
