An Officer but No Gentleman(88)

“Aunt Pru was glad for you to have the sweater,” he said as he approached.

“Captain Bloodworthy, you caught me right in the middle of something. I need to speak with you. Can you wait a few minutes?”

Jaxon wondered if the way she was calling him captain again was a bad sign. She had been adamant she wasn’t going to marry him. Was that her way of putting more distance between them? He watched as Charlie showed the young man how to make a harness to lower himself down the side of the ship. After tying themselves to the railing and lowering a rope for climbing up and another for the bucket with their supplies Charlie and Benjy disappeared over the edge of the ship.

Jaxon began looking around as he waited and was amazed at how much progress had been made since the ship arrived. The ship may have been old, but you wouldn’t have known it by its condition. He frowned as he spotted his rival, not just swabbing the deck, but making great efforts to be mopping directly in a path leading to him. When Thor was about six feet from him, he spoke in a low voice, his head never rising from his task.

“The only reason my fist isn’t in your face at this moment is because Charlie would have my head. You are the worst kind of scoundrel if you would do what you did and then call marrying her an obligation. If she and I would suit, I would be asking her to marry me—properly, but I know we could never make it work.”

Jaxon raked his hand through his hair knowing that the Viking god was right but it annoyed him that Charlie confided in him.

“It was not well done of me, I admit and no doubt, I am due the criticism and the fist. I am trying to make it right, but she will not accept me.”

Morty frowned and shook his head. “I have done my best to make her understand and I believe she has had a change of heart,” Morty said glancing up to see the man’s reaction and seeing his disfigured face, immediately dropped his gaze back to his chore.

“Indeed. I am glad of it. I would not want her downfall on my conscience for the rest of my days.”

“You will treat her well or you will deal with me whether Charlie likes it or not.”

“I would treat her well whether you threaten me or not. You do not need to champion her any longer.”

Just then Charlie climbed up the rope and both men stepped forward to help her. She looked back and forth between the men. “I can do it myself,” she said hefting herself over the rail.

“Back to work, Mr. Ness,” she said to Morty. “Captain, if you will follow me.”

Charlie led Jaxon into the belly of the ship to her cabin.

“You called me captain twice.”

“What should I call you when I’m on duty? Jaxon seems pretty informal for the loblolly boy.” When he didn’t seem surprised Charlie put two and two together. “I told you Morty couldn’t keep a secret.”

“What convinced you?”

Charlie’s face wore a serious expression. “Children should not be spat upon.”

Jaxon wondered if Charlie logic had its roots in Morty logic. He nodded as if that made sense to him knowing in truth, it made none whatsoever. Whatever her reason, he was relieved—no, it was more than that—he was a bit overwhelmed. He wondered if the reason tears sprang to his eyes was because he truly loved her. Never wanting to hurt her again, he opted not to tell her until he was sure.

“Charlie, I need you to help me understand why that man means so much to you.”

“But you hate stories about my childhood.”

He didn’t hate stories about her childhood; in truth, he thought they helped him understand her better. It was her lack of a childhood he hated.

“How am I going to stop being jealous if I don’t understand the nature of your friendship?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out her mouth. This was going to be a hard story to tell because it revealed the worst part of her childhood. It wasn’t the work or pretending to be a boy or even the not being allowed to cry. It was something worse. Loneliness.

“When I was ten, I stopped being cabin boy and I became a common sailor. At first, I was given jobs that kept me out of the way, helmsman, lookout, polishing the brass. I was a boy among men. The crew didn’t like that I made the same money and wasn’t pulling my weight and I think they thought I was spying on them for my father.”

She never fit in. How could she tell him the men were afraid of her? They thought she was touched in the head, which, for the first years after being traumatized by the fire, was probably not too far from the truth. Every sailor knew it was the worst kind of luck to have someone insane on the ship and that’s what they thought of her. They accused her of giving one man the evil eye after he was swept from the deck in a storm. When Frank Johns fell from the rigging, he claimed he could feel her eyes on his back just before he fell.