Free If I Wait For You by Jane Goodger

beg me to
darn one of his socks before I ply a needled to one of them. And
several,” she said with a lift of her chin, “are in definite need
of mending.”
    Zachary laughed and gave her a small
hug. “The real reason I am here,” he said, suddenly sounding
formal, “is that I am to accompany you to dinner. Captain’s
orders.”
    Oh, drat, Sara thought miserably.
She’d forgotten that in her pique she’d demanded that she at the
very least act the wife and eat with the captain and his officers
at dinner. She looked miserably down at her clothing, wishing she
had something better to wear. She let out a sigh. “Very
well.”
    She followed her brother to the dining
room where the elegant table was cut out around the mizzen mast,
which thrust through the decks of the ship. Captain Mitchell and
his mates were already gathered around the table, and stood
abruptly when she entered the room.
    “ Good evening, gentlemen,”
she said with a calm she did not feel. She hadn’t yet gained the
courage to look at West, even though she felt his eyes on her,
warming her skin to an uncomfortable degree. She sat to West’s
right and fingered the little railing that bordered the dark walnut
table.
    “ To keep the place settings
in place,” West explained.
    Sara darted a look to him, trying to
make her gaze cool and distant. “Thank you for explaining, Mr.
Mitchell.”
    West watched as she took in the formal
settings, which were elegant, almost absurdly so given the
roughness of the men around the table. Despite her simple dress and
her simple background, West couldn’t help but think she belonged
sitting at an elegant table. She had an innate grace, an
indefinable quality that made her a lady. He realized with a start
that she reminded him of his mother, and he wondered what Julia
would think of such a comparison. All those days and nights of
retching into a basin and she’d said not one word of complaint,
uttered not a syllable of regret. She’d even, he realized, taken
his boorishness rather well.
    West looked up through the skylight
built directly above the table and could see that the sky was still
light, though the sun cast the golden light of the coming dusk upon
the ship’s wheel and the helmsman who tended it. He forced his mind
to his ship and their hunt and away from the woman who sat next to
him, who drew his gaze the way a whirlpool draws flotsam—with with
dangerous strength. When he looked down, he saw that Sara’s gaze
had followed his and all the men, save Zachary, were looking at his
wife, or rather at the woman pretending to be his wife. Pretending,
he said to himself forcefully, though his body seemed to want to
ignore that pertinent fact. He turned his thoughts to Elizabeth,
imagined her sitting beside him. Ah, he thought, thoroughly
pleased, that’ll cool my ardor for this little chit.
    “ When do you think we’ll
spot our first whale?” Sara said to no one in particular, and none
of the men answered for some time.
    “ Hard to tell,” Zachary
mumbled finally.
    Silence descended. Knives cut the
surprisingly succulent chicken. Spoons dipped into the fish chowder
that must have been to Sara’s liking, for she let out a small sound
of pleasure. Mr. Billings slurped loudly and Mr. Mason gave him a
sharp nudge. The next mouthful went in smoothly.
    “ Is it true,” Sara said,
her voice sounding overloud. “that a whale can eat a man
whole?”
    Next to her, Zachary nearly
choked.
    “ Mr. Mitchell. Is it
true?”
    West gave Mr. Mason a sharp look,
clearly suspecting his first mate had been up to deviltry by
spinning tales.
    “ I’ve heard such stories,
but I’ve never seen proof of such,” he said
dismissively.
    Mr. Mason wiped his mouth with his
sleeve, then hastily picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth
again. “Only the sperm whale. Vicious creatures when they’ve got a
harpoon stuck in their backside.”
    “ Mr. Mason.” West’s warning
was clear. Sara ignored it.
    “ And would the