Free Come Looking For Me by Cheryl Cooper

her cot. The moment she saw Magpie, surprise transformed her features.
    â€œMornin’, ma’am,” he said, thrusting out his small right hand. “They call me Magpie on account o’ me black hair, and ’cause I talk all the time and get into trouble a lot.”
    â€œWhat is your real name?” Emily asked, taking his hand in hers. There was a half-moon of grime under each of his fingernails.
    â€œHaven’t a clue, ma’am. I never had no family to give me a proper name. Only name I ever bin called is Magpie.”
    â€œHow old are you?”
    â€œWhen they measure me against Mr. Walby here, they figure I’m about ten.”
    â€œAnd you’re a sail maker?”
    â€œAye, ma’am … learned the trade from old Beck Bailey, who was hankerin’ fer a promotion. He wanted to be a bo’s’n, but he don’t read none. The cap’n – not Cap’n Moreland mind – promised him work above deck if he’d teach me the sail makin’. First learned it when I was seven.”
    â€œSeven? That young? And you can make clothes too?”
    â€œAye, ma’am. I make ’em and I repair ’em. I hope ya like ’em.” He proudly held out his little bundle.
    As she accepted them, Emily thought her heart would burst. “I’m sure I will.”
    â€œWe’ll wait outside, Em,” Gus said, jabbing Magpie with his elbow.
    â€œAnd if ya be needin’ any alt’rations, ma’am, I’ll be standin’ by.”
    Emily took a deep breath when they had closed up the curtain. For a time she fingered the workmanship of the jacket and trousers, her dark brown eyes fixed upon the sea beyond the open gunport, then with a determined shake of her head, she called out, “Dr. Braden? Are you still out there?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œMay I ask you something?”
    He poked his head round, catching her brushing away a tear.
    â€œI have no interest in seeing Mrs. Kettle again, but I do require some assistance. Would you help me?”
    Fully aware that an audience of men and boys stood eavesdropping a few yards away, Leander gave her a quick nod. He took a step towards her then stopped, not certain where to begin.
    She looked up at him questioningly, and quietly said, “Should we take off the nightshirt while I’m still in the cot?”
    â€œOf course.” He smiled uneasily as he came closer.
    Trying her best not to cry out in pain, Emily eased the shirt up around her legs. She took another deep breath. “Can you take it from here, Doctor?”
    â€œDo you feel up to this, Emily?”
    She attempted to smile. “Up to what, Doctor – taking exercise on the weather decks or having you take off my nightshirt?”
    The hospital walls thundered with the mirthful howling of its occupants. Leander turned scarlet.
    â€œIf there is any more laughter out there,” he yelled over his shoulder, “I’ll give you all a shot of laudanum that will put you out for days.”
    Instantaneously, a hush descended upon the hospital.
    â€œWell done, Doctor,” Emily whispered.
    Knowing her shoulder was still raw, Leander slid the nightdress over Emily’s head as carefully as he could. Underneath, she wore her chemise and his eyes passed over her breasts. His hands shook slightly. The feel of her soft hair, those dark expressive eyes of hers, the interesting curves of her face … she was beautiful. He picked up the blue jacket that Magpie had sewn for her and helped her into the sleeves one at a time, certain he could hear the men’s laboured breathing in the distance. Once Emily had done up her jacket’s brass buttons, he leaned over her cot and murmured, “Now, I’ll pull the trousers on over that ankle of yours.” She shuddered as he touched her feet.
    He turned his head towards her. “Did I hurt you?”
    â€œNo, I’m … quite fine.” Emily held