Caution to the Wind by Mary Jean Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

the first time in two weeks, it occurred to her that joining the Amanda might have been a grave error.
    She stacked the dish next to the oak tub and strained her ears to make sense of the sounds coming from the deck above. The dull thuds of running feet shook the planks, there was a muffled shout, then silence—a silence so all encompassing that the soft, ever-present lapping of waves against the hull seemed to fill the small room.
    Amanda dried the last of the dishes then wiped her hands on her apron and hung it from a tack on the wall. She straightened her shoulders in an effort to stiffen her resolve and left the galley, venturing into the dimly lit open space that served multiple functions, dining room for the crew, sleeping quarters…and surgeon’s operating room during battle.
    With three shifts, hammocks filled with snoring sailors almost always swung from the sturdy beams overhead. Or there would tables lined with hungry men to wend one’s way through before reaching the stairs leading to the upper deck. Not now. The area below deck stood empty, the hammocks neatly stowed and all but a couple of tables turned sideways and pushed against the outer walls.
    Amanda slowed when she came to the two upright dining tables covered in canvas sailcloth. She ran her fingertips across the space that might soon hold one of her fellow shipmates, his blood soaking the stiff white fabric beneath him, life draining away.
    The ship groaned, rolling on a wave, and the lanterns rocked back and forth, rattling like the chains of a ghost. Amanda hurried toward the ladder. She needed to assure herself that her shipmates were still among the living.
    She grasped the railing in a white-knuckled grip and pulled herself up to the main deck, poking her head above the planks.
    Men stood motionless at their stations. The breeze rustled the sails and the rigging creaked. Overhead a gull circling the ship called out, its wraith-like cry echoing against the waves.
    She peeked about, eyes level with the crew’s feet. Every face angled toward the captain. He stood at the rail, his looking glass to one eye, peering out at the thin, hazy line where the choppy gray ocean met the cerulean sky. If she moved slowly, she just might make it to her station without drawing undue attention.
    Bull caught her eye, pointed to her station, and mouthed something unintelligible. Her absence had been noted. Hunching her shoulders in a futile attempt to become invisible, Amanda scurried to her assigned position.
    Lowering the glass, Captain Stoakes turned and shouted to the sailor standing on the platform high above the deck. “Any sign of an escort, Nate?”
    “No sir!” the lanky, young man yelled down through cupped hands, one elbow hooked around a rope.
    The captain bared a row of strong white teeth, and his eyes reflected the late morning sun. Amanda shuddered. Gone was the man whose soft smile had charmed her so just a moment ago. The wolf with the golden eyes had returned.
    From her station, Amanda followed the captain’s every move. A shiver of excitement rippled through her when he called out orders to those standing around him. He was in his element, his enjoyment evidenced not so much by his expression as by the unwavering confidence in voice and action. Once, to get a better sighting, he leapt gracefully onto the ropes as though it took no more effort than climbing the stairs. Amanda’s heart leapt with him.
    In long, fluid strides, he moved to the base of the main mast where Buck stood, squinting at the horizon, no glass to assist him. Captain Stoakes handed him the glass, and Buck raised it to his eye. Moments later, he shut it with a resounding click and handed it back. Buck’s lips were set in a firm line, but even from her post, Amanda caught the steely look of anticipation. He said something unintelligible to the captain that made them both laugh.
    Stationed near one of the center guns, Amanda strained to hear what they said. Curiosity winning