Free By The Sea, Book Three: Laura by Antoinette Stockenberg Page A

"You're an American," she insisted, still smiling.
    The eyebrows lifted slightly. "Suit
yourself."
    For a moment she was silent. "What do you
know about celestial navigation?" she finally asked, cool and
formal once more.
    "Not my strong suit," he admitted. "I know
which way is up on a sextant; I get by. On the other hand, I
consider myself a positive genius at dead-reckoning," he added
without a smile.
    Another Sam. Laura distrusted
dead-reckoning. It was too intuitive for her, almost an art. She
preferred precise observations of celestial bodies to tell her
where she was on the ocean. On the other hand, her confidence did
tend to sink on a cloudy day. Colin Durant, like her husband, would
complement her navigational skills well. It was very annoying.
    She looked for another way out of having to
hire him. Desperate as she was, at the moment Laura was ranking him
dead last as a candidate.
    "Would you be comfortable going aloft?" she
asked suddenly. "Billy, there, often needs help when the weather
pipes up."
    He seemed amused by the question. "Would you
like a demonstration?"
    "No—no, I believe you. You would have to
share the crew's quarters forward, of course; there is no private
stateroom for the mate."
    He nodded.
    "The food is very simple; we aren't a
yacht."
    "Indeed."
    In a burst of desperate candor she added, "I
feel bound to tell you that there may be trouble at the other end."
She told him about the disgruntled Bahamians.
    To no avail. He wanted the job. "All right
then, Mr. Durant. Naturally I will need to complete my interviews.
Where may I reach you?"
    "Christ!" was all he said. Apparently it had
not occurred to him that Laura would consider anyone else. But he
recovered his sang-froid and said, "You can write to me in
care of the YMCA here in town."
    "Thank you. I'll make a note of it."
    He chose not to use the boarding steps, but
instead swung himself over the bulwarks, landing softly on both
feet. Laura decided he was no more than thirty-five, still young
enough not to need to ration his energy.
    He hooked his thumbs in his hip pockets and
took one last sweeping look at the Virginia, no longer
young; at Billy, altogether too young; at Laura, a woman in a man's
domain.
    "One thing," he added. "Who's the
captain?"
    Laura's cool composure collapsed like a
pierced balloon. Her eyes opened wide and she said, " I am.
Who did you think I was—the secretary?"
    He shook his head. "Definitely not. I don't
see you behind a desk. Good afternoon."
    Billy paused on his way below decks to stare
down the wharf at their departing visitor. "Does that mean he
thinks you're too stupid to type?" he asked indignantly.
    "Oh, shut up, Billy!"
    ****
    When Neil returned an hour later it was to
his favorite lunch: canned beans spiced with lots of molasses and
mustard, and cornbread. It was part of his mother's effort to make
up for having hurt him. He understood that; in fact, he was
counting on it. Because he'd done something wrong on his little
half-holiday. He'd broken his word to her. But if his mother was
feeling guilty herself, she might not get too angry about it.
    He shoveled the beans into his mouth with a
spoon so that he wouldn't miss any of the sweet juice, and studied
his mother as she climbed up into the pilot berth to paint the
underside of the starboard deck. She was wearing his father's pants
and had her hair bound up in a red kerchief, but she looked pretty
anyway. Probably it was her eyes: they were slanted and very
bright. They seemed to invite you to join in a special secret, only
he never could figure out what the secret was. Once his mother had
whispered that she was part Sioux Indian, only not to tell. With
his blond hair and blue eyes, Neil himself didn't look anything at
all like an Indian. Maybe that was why he could never understand
the secret.
    They talked back and forth about the Rainbow for a bit, but his mother seemed to want to change
the subject, though Neil couldn't understand why. It was the