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I stood on the dock, my insides quivering. Here I was, about to take a weeks-long journey aboard an old-looking ship with an uncle I’d barely met once, and all I could think about was that I desperately wished I was staying home, was home, sitting atop my chestnut mare with Teddy by my side on his stallion.
My eyes drifted to the deck of the ship I knew was my uncle’s, sailors running about, putting things in place for the voyage. The Atlantica was painted on her side. I tried to imagine my room within her bowels, what it would be like to sail on her for days on end. I couldn’t. I’d never sailed before, and, quite honestly, was nervous about doing so now.
But there was also a bit of excitement stirring within me that I couldn't place my finger on. Maybe it was the idea of wide open seas and the wind billowing the sail. Maybe it was the idea of something new and possibly...
My eyebrows pinched. What if I was prone to seasickness? What if I never developed ‘sea legs’, as I’d heard them called? I shook my head decidedly. It sounded ridiculous, that term seamen used.
My gaze fell to the water The Atlantica was anchored in. It looked filmy and green. I scrunched my nose and scanned the horizon. No dark clouds rested there. Only blue skies and a shining sun.
I looked over my shoulder. Where was Tucker? Shouldn’t he have been here by now? I reassured myself with a shake of the head and the thought that he’d be along shortly, surely. I let my attention drift back towards the skyline.
I heard the rolling of wheels on wood and suspected it was a cart laden with stores for the hold of an out-bound ship. Before I could turn to see, it had rammed into my back and I flew into the water, arms flailing and a scream erupting from my throat. Into the water I had thought so green and dirty just seconds before.
I struggled when my legs caught in my skirts, clawing my way to the surface using my arms. I gasped in air and tried to open my eyes. Something solid grasped my arm and hauled me towards the dock. At least, I presumed it was towards the dock.
I was on the wood in moments. But I couldn’t see. My face felt wet and slimy. I pulled stringy, green seaweed from my eyes. My stomach churned. That is disgusting, I thought.
I must’ve said it out loud, because a laugh resonated from my rescuer.
Turning, I saw a young man that looked no older than eighteen. He had golden brown hair and ocean blue eyes.
I choked.
“Um, hello, Miss…Williams, is it?”
I managed to smile. Barely. “That’s me."
He nodded and helped me to my feet.
“Thank you, Mr….um…”
“Carter. Wynn Carter, Miss Williams.”
This was Andrew Carter’s adventurous younger brother who couldn’t attend the New Year’s Eve ball at the Anderson’s? And I would be forced to see him every day of the coming voyage? After this meeting? I would never live this down.
“You’re Wynn?” I said.
A slightly confused, almost guarded look overtook the young man’s face. “I am. Why?”
“I’ve just…I met your brother. At a ball. He mentioned you would be here. On the ship, I mean.” I closed my eyes briefly and mentally kicked myself. Of all the times…
Water trickled down my back from my hair and I shivered. Why was nothing going right these days?
“You’ve met Andrew?”
Oh, right, Wynn Carter.
“I have.”
“What ball?”
“The Andersons'."
Wynn snapped his fingers. “I remember. I was busy that night. Couldn’t attend.”
I nodded.
Wynn glanced at my hair, a small grin dimpling his cheeks. But he just as quickly looked away, back down to my eyes.
Self-consciousness clawed at me. I desperately wanted to make some escape…
“How was Andy at the dance, Miss Williams?”
A gusty wind blew over me and goosebumps rose on my skin. “Andrew was well.” I cleared my throat, tried again. “I mean, Andrew…he’s a wonderful dancer.
“So he actually danced?”
I laughed at the surprise on Wynn's face. It was a nice feeling, laughter, after having felt so solemn the past few weeks. Months, even. “Yes, he did.”
Wynn grinned at me. “I would’ve made him if I’d been there anyway. Found him a partner and everything.”
“He said much of the same sort of thing. I have to tell you, though, that he only ever danced once, with me.”
“He did?” Wynn shook his head, almost gravely. “Well, it’s a start at least. I’ve been trying to get him to dance. Never know when you might need to.”
Wynn’s attention was captured by something behind me. He nodded that way. “Your uncle’s coming.”
“Oh." I whipped around, saw my uncle threading through rough looking sailors and loaded carts and dashing servants. I turned quickly back to Wynn. "Thank you again, Mr. Carter, for helping me.”
"It was no problem. Least I could do."
Right. I nodded, attention grabbed by movement in my peripheral. I turned.
Uncle Terry came to a halt in front of me, all six feet two inches of him, eyes roving from my dripping hem to my matted hair. His eyes remained on my drooping bun.
“Hello, Uncle,” I said, smiling awkwardly, secretly hoping there was no chance of seaweed in my teeth, though it was unlikely. Probably. Probably unlikely.
But then my uncle did the most unexpected thing. He smiled broadly, laughed, even, and hugged me, wet clothes and all.
After a few startled seconds, I wrapped my arms around his waist and propped my chin atop his shoulder.
“Hello, Maddie, my girl.” He squeezed me gently and then drew away.
“My appearance is…well, it’s…explainable…” I said, looking down at my slimy garments.
Uncle Terry laughed again, and I joined in. A little. “You are a sight. What in the world happened to you?” His eyes shifted to Wynn, still standing behind me. “You’ve met my niece, Wynn?”
I glanced back at Wynn, and a huge grin overspread his features. He winked at me. “I have, Captain. Pulled her from the water a few minutes ago. She was knocked in by a mad servant with a cart-load of bags. The brute didn’t even look back when she screamed.”
“Well, Maddie, that’s unfortunate. Are you hurt?”
“I believe I’m fine, Uncle. Just wet. And a little embarrassed, is all.” I frowned at Wynn’s ever-broadening smile. Apparently he found it humorous. I probably would too, had I not been the one getting the soaking.
“Well, Captain, by your leave, I think I’ll check on the preparations for setting sail.”
“’Course, Wynn. Make sure everyone’s aboard. Madeline and I will be along shortly.”
Wynn bowed. A quick glance at my hair and he was gone.
Oh, no. There was something in my hair, wasn’t there?
“You’ve some seaweed in your...” Uncle Terry said this solemnly, eyes directed at my hair. “I’ll remove it for you.”
He pulled out a green mess, dropping it back in the water, and I cringed. “Thank you, Uncle." I smiled sarcastically. "I should probably be more careful when standing on the edge of a dock.”
Uncle’s eyes twinkled. “Probably,” he said. He nodded in the direction of his ship. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
“Of course.”
Uncle Terry offered me his arm and I gently took it. Something about him was warm…kind. Like he’d seen a lot and been through much but come out a different, better person. He seemed someone I could warm to being around every day. I felt myself liking him already, having barely been around him.
Sure, there was the time a few years back when he’d come to visit us at the plantation. But he was so subdued then… So broken. I could see it in his eyes, even when he was attempting to be happy. In some weird way, I thought I understood. But I couldn’t have. Losing your wife… That was a hard thing to have to go through.
Uncle’s voice dislodged my thoughts. “How is everyone back home?” he asked.
Home. I sighed, but determined to be as cheerful sounding as I could. “Everyone is as well as can be expected, I think. Mama and Father are determined and holding up. Theodore… Well, he writes as often as he can, and says he’s in good spirits. He said that army life is much different than expected, and that he’s been posted in the division one of our cousins is in.”
I breathed a prayer for the boys. I couldn’t imagine losing Lee and Teddy. Not now. Not ever.
Uncle Terry seemed to understand. Clearly there would be no need for sugar-coating with him. “That’s good, Maddie. And…you? How are you doing these days?”
I looked down, smiled briefly. “I am doing okay. Just okay, though.”
Uncle Terry was smiling at me, very gently. “I wouldn’t expect anything more.”
Copyright Micaiah K. 2016
