Free Boston Jane by Jennifer L. Holm Page A

(Chapter Two) had much to say about how to properly request the salt or discuss the latest play, but I didn’t recall it mentioning how to converse with a sailor.
    “Have you been to Shoalwater Bay before?” I asked finally.
    He shook his head. “No. First time for the captain and me. We’ll be taking on timber.”
    It was just my luck that I was on a ship with a captain who had never been where we were going.
    “We are not lost, are we?” I asked suspiciously.
    “Have no fear, we’re on course by the wind.”
    This was hardly consoling. I had many fears, and now chief among them was the captain’s ability to get us to our destination in one piece.
    “Will we ever arrive?” I asked, exasperated.
    He looked genuinely surprised. “We’re making good time. The
Lady
‘s a fast girl, one of the fastest brigs to come out of Philadelphia in a while. In fact, Samuel and I have a bet.”
    “A bet?”
    “The number of days it will take us to get from Philadelphia to Shoalwater Bay.”
    “What is Samuel’s opinion?”
    Jehu surveyed the cloudless sky, tilting his scarred cheek to catch the ocean breeze. “Samuel thinks she’s a lucky ship and that we’ll make it in one hundred and eighty days, including our stops.”
    “And you?”
    He grinned. “I believe in luck myself, but I also believe inspring squalls. I reckon we’ll sight Shoalwater Bay in one hundred and ninety days.”
    If Samuel were right, that meant we were less than a week away. It couldn’t be soon enough for me.
    I looked out at the waves. “My father has this foolish saying. He says you make your own luck.”
    “He’s right.”
    I thought of Sally Biddle and that rotten apple. “Well, I don’t agree. I’ve been plagued by bad luck since I was eleven.”
    He looked at me steadily. “Maybe it’s time you did something about that.”
    I retired below to check on Mary and relieve Father Joseph of his duties. She was awake.
    “Are you feeling better, Mary?” I asked, pushing the hair off her forehead. Her head was cool, I was pleased to see. The fever was gone.
    Mary smiled faintly through chapped lips. “Well enough, considering ya’ve been practicing yer stitchery on my arm, Jane my girl.”
    “You should be thankful I didn’t embroider a violet on it,” I teased.
    She giggled, and I felt immediately better. She would be fine after all. Perhaps we would finally both get a decent night’s rest for a change, I thought as I tugged my woolen nightdress over my head.
    The door banged open, startling us both. I snatched up ashawl. I imagined it was probably Father Joseph returning to give us another sermon about the savages. But it was not.
    Jehu Scudder stood in the doorway, holding a tureen.
    “I brought something for Mary,” he said shortly, stepping inside. He was so tall and broad that he had to crouch to get into the small cabin.
    Mary was in her bunk, covers up to her chin, but I was in plain sight, wearing only a woolen nightdress and a shawl. Most shockingly, my stocking-covered ankles were clearly visible! Quickly I tucked my feet beneath the hem of the nightdress, lest Jehu see them.
    The words rose in my throat to tell him to leave, that it wasn’t at all proper for him to be in our cabin when we weren’t properly dressed, but before I could say anything he pulled up a chair as if he meant to stay.
    “Here,” he said, passing me the tureen.
    I sniffed at the broth to make certain it wasn’t bilge water, but it smelled deliciously of chicken.
    “It’s a miracle the cook made something decent,” I said.
    “Cook didn’t make it. I did.”
    “You did?” I was shocked.
    He tilted his head in acknowledgment. In the shadowy light of the lantern his scar seemed less visible, and I suddenly realized that he had bright, blue eyes. Strange, that I had never noticed his eyes before.
    “And there’s no horse meat in there, I promise,” he added, smiling. He looked less fearsome when he smiled.
    I spooned the broth into