Surrender the Dawn (6 page)

Luke clamped John in a headlock and ground his knuckles into his brother’s thick brown hair. “You’d still be my favorite if I had a hundred brothers.”

Mrs. Barnes clicked her tongue. “Come now, Luke. You’re messing up his hair.”

“Oh, I would indeed enjoy having so many brothers.” John giggled. “Then I wouldn’t be so lonely during the day.”

Shrugging out of his coat, Luke hung it on a peg as he ignored the guilt sinking in his gut. Gray eyes that reminded him so much of their mother’s flashed an admiration toward Luke that he knew he didn’t deserve. That, coupled with the look of censure firing from his housekeeper, nearly sent Luke back outside to join his friends at the tavern. Nothing like a drink to drown out the voices constantly berating his conscience.

As if reading his mind, Mrs. Barnes ambled toward him, hooked her arm with his, and led him down the hall and into the dining room. “Now sit and talk with your brother while I bring in supper.”

Leaning down, Luke planted a kiss on her wrinkled forehead and gave her a beguiling smile. “What would I do without you?”

A red hue crept up her face as it always did when he kissed her. She slapped his arm and wagged a finger at him. “Your charm doesn’t work with me, Luke.” Shaking her head, she turned toward the kitchen. “You forget how often I took a strap to your bottom when you were but a child, and I’ll do so again if needs be.”

Despite her threat, warmth flooded Luke. He had indeed received many a swat from Mrs. Aldora Barnes as he had grown to manhood. Not one of them undeserved. Truth be told, the old housekeeper had been more of a mother to him than his real mother, who had so often been gone on trips with his father to “redeem the dark-hearted savages.”

Redeem the savages, indeed.

John stared up at him wide eyed. “I think she means it.”

Luke chuckled. “Then I shall have to behave myself, won’t I? As you will, as well.”

John shrugged. “I always behave.”

Pulling out one of the chairs, Luke dropped onto the soft cushion and eyed his brother. Yes, John did always behave. So unlike Luke. John’s
face twisted as he limped over and struggled to sit in the chair next to Luke’s. He stretched out his leg before him, the steel brackets bending the boy’s trousers at odd angles. Where one leg was thick and strong and normal, the other was thin and frail and twisted to the right. Luke cringed. He should have been the one with rickets, not his kindhearted brother. “How does your leg fare today?”

“Good.” John rubbed his withered thigh.

Always the same response no matter what discomfort the boy was enduring.

“When I get a new brace, I’ll be able to walk much faster,” John continued. Then casting a glance over his shoulder, he leaned toward Luke and whispered, “Perhaps I can come with you on your ship then?” Excitement sparked in his eyes.

Luke fingered a spoon on the table. “I’m afraid it won’t be seaworthy for quite some time.”
If ever.
He shifted his gaze from the disappointment tugging on John’s face. The boy loved the sea as much as Luke did—had repeatedly begged Luke to take him out on Noah’s ship, the
Defender.
But of course that was not possible. A privateer was no place for a lad, especially a crippled one. And with Noah losing his own brother in a ship accident some years ago, he wasn’t about to risk Luke’s. After a while, John had stopped asking. Until Luke had won his own ship in a game of Piquet two weeks ago, resurrecting the boy’s petitions. If John had anything in common with Luke, besides his love of the sea, it was persistence.

“Shall we make a bargain?” Luke said. “If I ever get my ship seaworthy, you may come sailing with me.” Luke knew he shouldn’t make such a promise, but the chances of acquiring enough money to repair the
Agitation
were less than impossible. And the look of delight now beaming in the boy’s eyes was well worth the risk.

“You promise?” John held out his hand. “A gentleman’s honor.”

Luke chuckled and took John’s hand in a firm grip. “Aye, I promise.” Though he cringed at pledging upon an honor he did not possess.

Mrs. Barnes swept into the room, her arms loaded with platters of steaming food. “What’s this we are pledging to each other?”

“Nothing, Mrs. Barnes.” John gazed at the broiled fish, biscuits, rice, and platter of sweet pickles and fried greens that Mrs. Barnes set upon the table. He licked his lips.

Luke’s stomach leapt at the succulent smells, reminding him that he’d imbibed nothing but rum all day. While Mrs. Barnes said a prayer over
the food, Luke glanced over the dining room, small by comparison with other homes: whitewashed walls devoid of decoration, save three sconces wherein candles flickered; a small brick fireplace with a cloth of painted canvas before it; a chipped wooden buffet that lined the wall beneath a rectangular window framed by dull linen curtains. A silver service tray complete with teapot, china cups, and silverware sat upon it, should company grace their home. Which rarely happened.

Luke clenched his jaw. He’d wanted to do more for his brother. So much more.

“And Father,” Mrs. Barnes continued, “thank You for bringing Luke home to us tonight.”

Luke flinched. Candlelight flickered off the old woman’s face, casting her in a golden glow that made her look much younger than her sixty years.

“Amen,” John repeated then eagerly helped himself to a piece of fish.

Their meal passed with laughter and pleasant conversation, during which Luke listened with rapt attention to John’s rendition of his visit to the town library that day with Mrs. Barnes. Embellished with mad adventures that involved fighting off a band of gypsies and an encounter with a fire-breathing dragon, the story could match any found in Aesop’s fables. The lad had an overactive imagination. And Luke wondered if perhaps he’d be a writer someday. Whatever he did, he’d no doubt be far more successful than Luke.

Then, per John’s request, Luke regaled them with one of his adventures at sea, all the while wondering whether he’d ever have any new stories to tell.

Soon after, Luke found himself sitting beside John as he lay in bed.

“You know you don’t have to tuck me in. I’m not a baby anymore,” John huffed.

“No, you’re not.” Though he had been just one year old when the responsibility of parenting had fallen solely on Luke. “You’re almost a man. I can hardly believe it.”

“Will you work on your ship tomorrow?”

“Yes, if you work on your studies with Mrs. Barnes.”

John’s face soured. “But they are so boring. I want to be with you.”

Luke raised his brows. “If you’re going to be a sailor, you must be able to read and write and calculate numbers. Every captain I know who is worth his salt has a good education.”

“Truly?”

“Indeed.” Luke drew the coverlet up to John’s chin.

“Will you come home tomorrow for dinner?” The pleading in John’s voice stung Luke.

He wiped the hair from John’s forehead. “I’ll try.”

John gave him a placating smile that said he didn’t believe him. The boy was growing up too fast. Luke planted a kiss on his forehead then mussed up his hair. “Get some sleep.”

Grabbing the lantern, Luke headed for the door.

“I love you, Luke.”

Luke halted, emotion clogging his throat. “I love you too, John.”

Down in the parlor, Mrs. Barnes filled Luke’s mug with coffee then poured herself a cup and sat down in her favorite chair—a Victorian rocking chair—beside the fireplace where simmering coals provided a modicum of heat. A wooden clock sat on the mantel, its time stranded at 9:13. Luke stared at it, willing the hands to move. But they remained frozen in place. Hadn’t it been working fine just that morning?
Lud.
That was all Luke needed. Something else broken in his broken-down world.

“I’m glad you came home tonight,” Mrs. Barnes said. “That boy adores you.”

Luke sipped the hot liquid, enjoying the exotic smell more than its bitter taste. Yet the coffee soothed his throat and settled in a pool of warmth in his belly. “He means the world to me.”

“Then come home more often.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t give up your gambling and drinking?” Mrs. Barnes set down her cup on the table beside her and picked up her knitting as if she hadn’t just chastised her employer. A large Bible perched proudly beside her steaming mug. Luke never saw her without it.

“I win more than I lose.” Luke shifted his boots over the wool rug, trying to rub away the guilt.

Mrs. Barnes gazed at him from kind brown eyes that seemed far too small for her round face. Gray curls, springing from her mobcap, framed her like a silver halo. “I know a great deal of responsibility was laid upon your shoulders at only seventeen, but—”

“And I have kept us alive since,” Luke interrupted, his ire rising.

“I’m not disputing that.”

Leaning back in his chair, Luke glanced over the parlor, which boasted
of chipped paint, threadbare curtains, and secondhand furniture. “I know this isn’t the most comfortable place to live, but it’s all I can afford at the moment.”

“You know I don’t care about that, Luke. I’m concerned for your soul.”

“My soul is fine.”

“Hmm.” She continued her knitting. “If only you’d settle down. Pick an honorable trade.”

“I have. A privateer. If this war continues much longer, I can make a fortune.”

“You sound as if you wish the war would go on.”

“Absurd.” Setting his cup down with a clank, Luke rose and began to pace. “I know firsthand what the British are capable of. I hate the blockade. I hate their intrusion onto our land. I want to fight as much as the next man. Only at sea.”

Needles flying, Mrs. Barnes joined one strand of white yarn and one strand of black together in a chaotic pattern that made no sense. Much like the pattern of Luke’s life.

He stomped about the room, trying to settle his agitation. “When I sailed with Noah, I took great pride in thwarting the British cause by capturing their merchant ships.”

“Yet you are no longer with Captain Brenin.”

Halting, Luke avoided looking at the censure he knew he would find on Mrs. Barnes’s face even as he braced himself for her lecture. Everyone in town knew why Noah had relieved Luke of his duties.

But instead, she gave him a gentle smile. “If privateering is where God is leading you, Luke, then by all means, pursue that course.”

Luke warmed at her encouragement. “As soon as I get the funds to fix my ship.”

“What happened to the money you had in the bank?”

Luke lowered his chin as silence permeated the room.

“Your parents would not approve of your methods of procuring money. And neither does God.”

“My parents followed God and look where it got them.” Luke gazed at the rippled, pink skin on the palm of his right hand. “I’m doing things differently. I’m doing things my way. Besides, I’m not hurting anyone with my actions.”

“Except John.”

“He misses me, that’s all.” Luke shrugged. “I’ll make it up to him when I fix my ship. Teach him to sail. We’ll become merchants together after the war.”

“That would be nice.” Yet her tone held no confidence.

Luke parted the curtains. Aside from a few twinkling lights emanating from nearby homes, nothing but an empty, dark void met his gaze. Empty like his many promises to John. “Why do you stay with us, Mrs. Barnes? Surely your skills and experience could land you a better position in a proper home.”

“Why, I wouldn’t know what to do in a proper home.” Her warm smile reached her eyes in a twinkle. “Besides, I love you boys as if I birthed you myself. And I promised your mother I’d look out after you.”

Luke made his way back to his chair, drawn away from the darkness by the love in this precious woman’s face. “You are family now, Mrs. Barnes. Which is why I allow you to speak to me with such forthrightness.” He winked and slid back onto his chair.

Dropping her knitting into her lap, Mrs. Barnes leaned forward and patted his hand as she always did to comfort him. “Love can only be expressed in truth.”

The wise adage drifted through Luke, finally settling on his reason. Love and truth. Two things he didn’t know much about.

Mrs. Barnes gazed at the red coals. “The doctor came today.”

Leaning forward, Luke planted his elbows on his knees.

“He said there shouldn’t be any additional malformation due to the rickets.”

“That’s great news.” Luke nearly leapt from his seat, but Mrs. Barnes’s somber expression stifled his enthusiasm. “What else? Will the leg ever heal?”

Mrs. Barnes took a sip of her coffee then wrapped her hands around the cup. “In time, perhaps. The doctor cannot say for sure. But he did say John needs a new brace.”

Luke nodded, swallowing down resurging fears for his brother’s future. A new brace cost money. Money he didn’t have.

“He gave me a bill.” Anxiety burned in her eyes. “And the rent is due by the end of the week.”

“How much?”

“Including the doctor bill, forty-eight dollars.”

Luke ground his teeth together. He had only two silver dollars in his
pocket—barely enough to provide food for the week. A sudden yearning for rum instead of coffee screamed from his throat. Picking up his mug, he gazed at the brown liquid swirling in his cup. Around and around it went like a brewing tempest at sea.

A tempest that was surely heading his way.

  CHAPTER 5