Wild Rose

“No, I imagine not. He appreciates your help.” Mrs. Bradford smiled. “I’m glad he’s found a good neighbor.”

Geneva returned the smile, feeling accepted by the lady as she never had by any of the village women. At the enormity of the thought, she stepped back. She must be imagining it! She shoved her soil-stained hands in her pockets and looked away.

Mrs. Bradford didn’t seem to notice the motion but continued speaking. “Growing up here, you’re no doubt well acquainted with the woods and trails, as well as the seashore?”

“A fair amount, I’d say.”

“I enjoy bird-watching. But as I’m growing older, my family back in Boston tend to worry, thinking of me out alone anywhere.” She smiled, her gray eyes crinkling at the corners. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them I’m not alone, that the good Lord is ever present.” She sighed. “At any rate, to ease their minds, I’ve decided to hire a companion, a guide of sorts. I suspect you’d be too occupied in summer to consider such a position?”

Geneva’s mind had ceased taking in much of the conversation. When she realized Mrs. Bradford was looking at her, expecting an answer, she could only say, “Beg pardon?”

“I said you were no doubt too busy to consider any sort of additional occupation during the summer months.”

“I fish during the summer months mainly, but I’m always lookin’ for ways to make a few dollars. The winters are mighty long, without much chance to earn anything.”

“Would you consider acting as a guide a few times a week, the weather permitting, for my expeditions?”

Geneva nodded, not quite certain to what she was committing herself.

“Good, then. Shall we say, a week from Thursday, in the morning, if the weather is clear?”

“I’ll be there next Thursday morning. I’ll come around to the harbor in my boat.”

“A boat? How lovely. Perhaps we could go for a sail around the coast. Maybe we’ll spot a few eagles?”

“Sure. I’ll take you to Seal Island and you can see the puffins nesting.”

The woman gave her such a gracious smile, Geneva couldn’t help smiling again in return.

“You have a lovely smile, my dear. I shall see you on Thursday.” Mrs. Bradford turned to climb back into the buggy. With a final wave, she was on her way. Geneva watched her until the buggy was out of sight, wondering at how much had occurred in the space of a few short minutes.

She patted Jake. “What do you make of all that, boy? Your mistress has gone and gotten herself a job without even trying.”

Geneva knocked on the captain’s door but received no response. He’d told her, after their first lesson, to come over after lunch the following afternoon, so she knew he expected her. Today, she’d brought Jake with her.

To keep him from pawing at the door, Geneva turned the knob and pushed it open. She’d just glance around in the kitchen, give a holler if necessary.

At the sight of the silent kitchen, she paused. Entering it without the captain present was like catching a glimpse of him without his being aware of it. Although her mind told her to retreat the way she’d come, a part of her heart urged her forward until she stood in the center of the room. His abode.

Everything looked bare and clean. A lone teacup and saucer stood on the counter by the soapstone sink. The curtainless window above it was a quarter of the way open and the sound of waves came up from beyond the backyard.

She wondered how the captain managed his meals on his own. She knew he had deliveries made from Mr. Watson’s store every few days. But how did a gentleman’s son survive all by himself? Although he called himself a sailor, she was certain he knew nothing about sea life below the rank of captain or first mate.

Geneva grabbed Jake’s collar in an effort to suppress the temptation of nosing around in the captain’s cupboards. She tore her gaze from the kitchen and headed toward the veranda.

“Cap’n Caleb?” she called out. “It’s me, Geneva.” When nothing but silence greeted her, she said, “Anybody home?” By then she was in the large living room. “Cap’n Caleb?”

Seeing the door onto the veranda ajar, she walked toward it. Jake broke away from her and reached it first, shoving the door open and bounding joyfully toward one end of the porch. Geneva was quickly after him. She saw the hammock and Captain Caleb lying in it, but wasn’t in time to reach Jake as he jumped up to it, barking, and set it to rocking violently.

“Hey! What—” The captain’s hands came up around Jake’s head. “Hey, boy, down.” Captain Caleb looked up at her as she reached the hammock.

“Jake! Down! What’s the matter with you? Get your paws off the cap’n.” She spoke to Jake more harshly than she had intended, trying to hide what she felt at seeing Captain Caleb lying there. It was clear he’d been sleeping.

This impression intensified when he smiled up at her. “It’s all right. He meant no harm. At least he’s warming to me.” He patted Jake’s head as he talked. Long, sun-browned fingers ran over Jake’s ears and down the sides of his neck, large palms cupped the sides of his head. “What are you doing here, boy?”

Geneva could feel the heat rise in her face as she observed the captain. Thick, wavy hair swept back untidily from his high forehead. His face, just wakened from sleep, had a freshness and an openness that she hadn’t seen since he’d come back to Haven’s End.

“Uh, I jus’ came in by the back. Shouldn’a brought him, I guess—I thought you’d behave yourself, Jake.” She fixed her eyes on her dog.

“No more scolding. There, that’s a good boy.” The captain continued talking to the dog, rubbing his head and neck all the while. “I’m glad your mistress thought fit to bring you. It gives us a chance to get acquainted.”

“Thought it was time, you know, for the lesson,” Geneva explained, shoving her hands into her back pockets.

The captain pulled out his watch. “So it is.” He smiled at her again, transfixing her. “I just lay down a minute after my lunch to watch the sea, and must have fallen asleep. Went to bed too late last night, I guess. Come on, get your dog off me, and help me up.”

Geneva swallowed and took hold of Jake’s collar, ordering him to sit. Not sure whether the captain had meant it seriously, she stuck out her hand. He grabbed it firmly and held out his other hand. Geneva offered hers more tentatively, but he clasped it readily. When both her hands were ensconced in his, she felt joined to him in a way more profound than the simple touch warranted.

She pulled him forward.

“Thanks.” Once he was standing, the captain held her hands an instant longer before letting go. Geneva stepped back to dispel the feeling of abandonment.

He ran his hands through his hair and then smoothed his shirt down. Geneva just stared. He was wearing a white cotton shirt with a barely visible, blue line threaded through it. Geneva thought she’d never seen any material so fine. His collar was open, revealing the brown skin of his neck.

Her own collar felt constricting. Giving herself a mental shake, she walked toward the worktable. Her hand trembled as it reached for a pencil. The captain seemed so at ease; clearly he had no idea what he did to her.

During the lesson Geneva felt more ignorant than she’d ever felt during her short time up the road at the schoolhouse. She couldn’t seem to make sense of anything this afternoon. She mixed b’s and d’s, m’s and n’s. She stumbled over words of more than three letters.

It was worse than when she’d had to trudge to school each morning, wearing the same dress, until Mrs. Stillman’s daughter, Sarah, started spreading the rumor that she had fleas. After that, no one wanted to sit with her.

She vowed never to set foot inside the schoolhouse again, but then Pa demanded to know why she was hanging around at home. When she told him she wasn’t going back, he hauled her up the road to the schoolhouse, vowing no offspring of his was going to grow up into a lazy, worthless, good-for-nothing.

By the time they entered the schoolroom, she was late, everyone else seated and quiet. All the children turned around, staring at her, then shifting their gazes to follow her father. His black hair and beard always spooked the little ones. The older ones said he’d probably been sired by one of the black bears he always hunted in the fall.

She’d hated her father for the shame he caused her, especially when he’d gone and pulled her out of school himself the following year.

Captain Caleb’s sigh jolted her back to the present. “Let’s try this word again. Ap—” he began sounding out for her.

“Ap,” she repeated, then struggled with the other letters his fingers had formed on the paper. Another p. “Puh,” she expelled the sound. That other letter, what was it? Two sticks. L. “Lll.” Then e. What did that sound like again? “Eee.” Now, to put it together. By this time she’d forgotten how the beginning sounded.

“That e is silent,” the captain corrected.

“Why’d they put it there, then?” she asked in annoyance. She looked at Jake sleeping so peacefully on the gray porch floor, his tail thumping every once in a while, while she was strung so tight she was afraid she’d spin around like a top if the captain so much as touched her. Why’d she ever get herself into this?

“I don’t know why it’s there. Usually if there’s an e at the end of a word, it’s silent. So, let’s begin at the beginning. A-P-L.” He said it more quickly, “Apl. What is it?”

“Apple!”

The captain sighed with relief. “Good. Maybe this will help to remind you of the sound.” He took the pencil and began drawing a little circle beside the word. When he added the stem on top, Geneva recognized it as an apple.

“An apple,” she guessed, looking in awe at the neat little picture.

He nodded, continuing to draw. “This should help you remember the a sound in apple. A makes a whole lot of other sounds, but we’ll worry about those later. There.” He put the pencil down and moved the paper toward her. She saw he’d added a little worm coming out of the apple. She looked up to find him grinning at her.

“I don’t know why you bother with me,” she said with a shake of her head. “If I haven’t learned this stuff by now, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Nonsense. People learn new languages every day, and it’s the same thing. It takes a lot of practice and patience. Now—” he took the paper back and began forming a new word “—B comes next. Ball, that’s easy to draw.”

Geneva watched his fingers curve around the pencil, and knew exactly why nothing would come to her that afternoon. She could think of nothing but him sitting there so close to her. Her gaze traveled up to his head bent over the paper. The dark hair glinted reddish gold in places.

She was going to have to stay up real late every night poring over those letters he was writing to make up for her wandering thoughts during lesson time.

As if reading her mind, he said, “I shall have to get you a slate so you can practice making these at home. Now this one’s easy.” He finished printing the letters and moved the paper toward her.

She stared at the letters, willing her mind to concentrate. “Kuh…Kuh,” she repeated. “Uh…rr…ll.” Then she tried putting the sounds together as the captain was teaching her. “K-uh-r-l. Cuhrl. Curl!” She looked at him in triumph, meeting the look of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Good.” He wrote another word. “This should be familiar.”

She looked at the three-letter word. “D-d…” She took a stab at the vowel, “aw…guh. Dawg. Dog!”

“All right. Let’s try something harder.” Again he took the paper back and bent over it.

That night she took out the list of words and copied them out on a separate sheet of paper by the glow of her kerosene lamp. She wrote each one and read it over and over until she knew it perfectly. As she sat on the edge of her bed in her nightgown, she took one last look at the paper, smiling at the captain’s pencil drawings. A curl of hair, a little dragon, its spiked tail curved upward, a flame coming out of its mouth. She traced the drawings with her fingertip. An oblong circle for an egg, a squatting frog. Silently she mouthed the words, vowing she’d master each lesson, if it meant receiving the smile of approval the captain had given her this afternoon.

Chapter Five

“Hello there, Geneva. You must be pleased about somepin’.”

Geneva jumped at the sound of Lucius Tucker’s low drawl. Her knife nearly sliced off her finger as it slid through a stalk of rhubarb. She scowled up at the red-bearded man, annoyed that he’d caught her kneeling.

Despite his new suit and starched shirt, something about Lucius Tucker reminded her of her father. Ever since he’d been appointed overseer of the poor at the last town meeting, he thought he was somebody.

She placed the stalk of rhubarb in the basket at her side but kept the open jackknife in her hand as she stood. Meeting him at eye level, she no longer felt at a disadvantage.

She’d been so wrapped up in thinking about the captain, she hadn’t heard Lucius approach. Where had Jake gone off to? She made out her dog’s bark off in the meadow, but didn’t take her gaze off Lucius.

She glared at him. “What do you want? I got work needs doing.”

Lucius just smiled and pushed back his hat. “Sure sounded pretty what you were hummin’.”

Her scowl deepened as she felt the heat rise up to the roots of her hair. She’d been humming to herself, anticipating the captain’s pleasure when he saw how well she’d learned her lessons over the past week. “Ain’t none o’ your business what I was doing.”

“You gotta learn to curb that tongue o’ yours.” He pushed his hat farther back on his head. “If I told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, I jus’ want to help you out.”

“You don’t have a charitable bone in your body, Lucius.”

“Now, there you go again, lettin’ that tongue o’ yours loose.”

Lucius eyed her up and down, his pale blue gaze coming to rest on her chest. “Look at you. Grubbin’ around in the dirt. Coverin’ yourself up so a body can’t hardly tell whether you’re a man or a woman. But ol’ Lucius can tell. You’re all woman, Geneva. It’s time you began showin’ off your assets ’stead o’ hiding behind those clothes o’ your pa’s.”

“You better watch your mouth,” she answered shortly, keeping her knife poised.

Lucius ignored it. “Look at you slavin’ away here. I been offering to take care of you since your poor pa passed away. He’d be grateful to me, I know, if he knew my intentions.”

“Your intentions! There’s nothing decent about your intentions.”

“Now, Ginny, just because I don’t offer you a wedding band don’t mean I wouldn’t if I could. You know how it is—”

“Quit your whinin’ around me. You got a wife and three kids. She’s doing her duty to you. I’m sick of your pestering me with your filthy offers. Callin’ yourself an upstanding member of the community.”

“I don’t call it filthy, offerin’ you a snug little cabin up on Whittier’s Lake. I’d come up to see you when I was huntin’. No one’d know a thing.”

“I’ve told you before, no. You deaf as well as stupid? No means no.”

Lucius just rocked back on his heels, his smile never wavering. He removed his hat and scratched his head with a thumbnail. His pale red hair was combed back in wet strands, revealing a pink scalp beneath.

“The selectmen voted at last night’s meetin’ to set aside the money raised at the Fourth o’ July celebrations for the widows and orphans of this town.” He chuckled, continuing to scratch his head. “Widows and orphans.” He paused and let the significance of the words sink in. “I have sole discretion over those funds.” He winked at her. “Seems to me you’re an orphan.”

Geneva looked at him in disgust. “You better get off my property.”

“Now, Geneva, simmer down. You know I only want to help you out. You don’t have no man to lean on. It breaks my heart thinkin’ of you holed up here all winter. Up to the cabin, I’d see you every day when I’d come up to cut timber. You could cook me dinner then.” He sidled up closer.

“We’d cozy up in the afternoon. I could ease your toil if you’d jus’ let me. The ride’s much pleasanter if two enjoy it.”

She brought the knife up to chest level. “You step back. I don’t need no man to lean on, least of all the likes o’ you.”

His blue eyes hardened. “I told you, you better watch that tongue o’ yours. I’m a patient man, but…” His finger snaked out to grab hold of the buckle of her overalls.

Geneva pushed the knife against his hand, but before she could free herself, he’d twisted her wrist and sent her knife spinning away from her.

“Careful you don’t push me to my limits.” His breath was hot against her face. “You might jus’ find yourself on the losin’ end.” He considered her. “You’re about tall as I am. I wouldn’t mind puttin’ your strength to the test. I think I might just enjoy a contest with you.”

His eyes challenged her. “I hear tell some women like a man who can beat them.” He smirked. “Maybe your ma was one of ’em—”

“Why, you low-down skunk!” Geneva lunged at him. Lucius took advantage of the moment to grab her around the waist and pull her to him. For a while, she held her own, but then he did a fancy move with his foot and had her on the ground. He lay on top of her and grabbed one of her breasts. She yelped at the pain.

The next thing she knew, Lucius was being hauled up by the collar and pitched on the ground like a forkful of hay. Geneva pushed herself up on her elbows and stared at Captain Caleb, towering over her.

“What are…you…doin’ here?” she gasped out. At the same instant, she heard Jake’s barking as her dog bounded over the fields.

The captain didn’t look at her. “Mister, if you ever show your face around here again, you’ll wish you hadn’t. I can promise you that.”

The fallen man pulled himself up, dusting himself off in the process. “Me an’ Geneva wuz havin’ a private conversation. I’ll thank you, Captain—” he spit the title out “—to keep outta what don’t concern you.”

Jake stood growling at Lucius.

Lucius turned back to Geneva. “You think about my offer. It’s more’n generous. It’s downright magnanimous.” He said the word as if he’d just learned to say it and enjoyed the exercise it gave his mouth. His eyes narrowed at the threatening dog.

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