Free The Sea is a Thief by David Parmelee

release her, and she could row to Assateague, to ride and sketch.   An hour or two wouldn’t steal the whole day.  “I’ll show you where to hem these,” Mary told her, reaching for the bottom edge of the fabric.
    Anna found the measure of the curtain and began to set up the hem.  They did work well together, mother and daughter.    
    â€œDid Mr. Dreher repair the shutters?”
    â€œEvery one of them, Mother.  Like new.”
    Mary shook her head.  “I never imagined such a blessing would come to us.”
    â€œA blessing indeed.”
    â€œAnd what of Mr. Dreher?”
    â€œMother?”
    â€œMr. Dreher, Anna.  What of him?”  
    â€œI—don’t understand your meaning, Mother.”
    Mary dropped her work into her lap, looking to heaven and sighing in frustration.  She had hoped that her daughter would be more forthcoming with her.  “How old you think I was when I met your father?”  
    Anna thought back.  Father had told her of how they met at Pony Penning, but not when.  “My age?” she ventured.  
    â€œBeau’s age,” said Mary.  “And so I will tell you what you must know about Mr. Dreher.” She turned and looked intently at her daughter. “He is a Union sailor, serving on a ship that is visiting Chincoteague—for a time.  When that time ends, he will sail away to another place, and another, serving the Union.”
    Anna interrupted her.  “And is Chincoteague not loyal to the Union?”
    â€œChincoteague voted to remain loyal to the Union.  Half the men who voted owe their livelihoods to Edmund Bagwell, whose loyalties are clear.  Virginia is at war with the Union, and the outcome is most uncertain.”
    Anna’s temper flared. “You are ungrateful for the good work Mr. Dreher is doing!”  
    Mary took her tightly by the arm.  “You mistake yourself, Anna; I am most grateful, and have thanked God daily.  But I am not willing to trade my daughter’s broken heart for new shutters.  He will not stay here long, Anna.  He cannot stay long.  Do you understand me?”
    Anna bit her lip.  Her tears were rising. “He would like your permission to repair the skiff.”  
    Silence.
    â€œWe have the rowboat. It is sufficient.”
    â€œWe could sell the skiff, Mother.  You’ve said so.”
    Mary reflected.  “We could.”  Gently, she took Anna’s hand. “Do you understand me?” Anna nodded.  “Let him repair it, then.”  She embraced her mother, and for the moment the curtains were forgotten.    

 
    CHAPTER FOUR  
    A Visit from the Captain
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    Days passed, and the weather cooled.  The green-headed flies declined with the season.  The sunsets over the Virginia mainland arrived a bit earlier each evening, and ripened to the fiery scarlet of the Chincoteague autumn.  Small bands of geese began to wing their way over the marshes, scouts for the endless flocks to come.  
    On board the Louisiana, time passed with dull slowness.  The iron ship stood ready to repel any hostile vessel that might appear, but none did.  Daily, her crew scrubbed the decks and polished the brass, paying particular attention to the heavy cannon that had proved so effective against the privateer Venus . In his heart, Captain Sharpe almost wished for another encounter with the rebels.  Instead, his most pressing concerns were the drinking and gambling that occurred as he knew it would.  Every few days a sailor had to be disciplined for such offenses.  Such was life on board an idle ship.
    Sharpe’s greatest satisfaction was his effort to help the islanders.  By all accounts it was a resounding success; he counted it among his best decisions of the campaign.  The enthusiasm of the crew was surprisingly high, especially from the young Ship's Carpenter,