Wings Of The Morning Part 11

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He reminded himself that she had talked more on the beach than he had ever heard her, but that was obviously credited to the fact that she was more comfortable talking about s.h.i.+ps than any other subject.

Dallas hoped that if she were really knowledgeable, he would learn some things from her, but he had no illusions. She was young and timid, and Dallas believed he would learn more from her s.h.i.+p and her men than he would from her.

He wouldn't have admitted it to his family because they all liked her so well, but in the brief time that he had known he would be sailing with theAramis, Dallas had convinced himself that Smokey must be little more than a mascot.

The big man he had seen with her in London was her first mate, a man named Da.r.s.ey Dallas knew he was almost as well known as Smoke. As soon as Dallas remembered who the man was, he realized that he must be the driving force behind Smoke. It was like this with many s.h.i.+p's captains--Smokey owned the s.h.i.+p, Da.r.s.ey did all the work, but as owner and captain, Smokey took the credit.

An hour later, as Da.r.s.ey introduced himself to Dallas and showed him to the crew's quarters, Dallas was more convinced than ever about Smokey's uselessness aboard s.h.i.+p. In his thrill of being on theAramis, he forgot just how much his own first mate did for him on the Zephyr. His mind even went so far as to feel a bit of disgust that Smokey couldn't stay home where she belonged.

She hadn't really struck him as that kind, but she was clearly the type of female who had to have attention. He figured she must have inherited the s.h.i.+p from her father and then gotten it into her foolish, female head to be a captain. He tried to adjust his att.i.tude as he stowed his gear for the voyage.

Dallas would have been amazed to learn that Smokey and Da.r.s.ey had run into sentiment like this before. He would have been surprised beyond speech if he had known that Da.r.s.ey had interpreted most of his thoughts on their first meeting.

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As the first mate made his way topside, he hid a smile Mr. Knight would have to find out the hard way that loke Simmons was no figurehead Their first morning at sea, Smokey sat at the desk in her cabin and pored over her maps. She had to be in Savannah by tomorrow morning and then into Florida the morning after.

That would mean their trip to China Island would have to wait until the end of next week A knock on her cabin door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called Da.r.s.ey entered and shut the door behind him. The chair he took creaked under his weight as he made himself comfortable in the small s.p.a.ce.

"Did Dallas get settled?" Smokey wanted to know.

"I believe he did"

"What did you think of him?"

Da.r.s.ey grinned. "I think we've got another one who's giving me more credit than I deserve."

"Oh, no." Smokey's look was one of exasperation. "I really thought better of him than that. Oh, well, we won't be out that long."

"Long enough for him to learn he's wrong," Da.r.s.ey said, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye.

'You don't really think we're going to tangle, do you? I mean, he will take orders, won't he?"

"That's up to himvnow, isn't it, la.s.s?" Da.r.s.ey spoke honestly.

Smokey agreed with a nod "I guess it Is, but you know, since I'm not out to prove anything, you could simply handle all problems on this trip."

"That's true, but it's unlikely that such a plan would last for more than a day."

Smokey laughed He was right. It was just as she'd said to

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no Dallas, captains did not make good crewmen, and she was exception.

By the time the Aramis pulled into the port of Savannah, Dallas had all but forgotten Smokey's presence on board, which only confirmed his earlier belief that she was quite useless as a captain. With this in mind, he was surprised to hear her greet him as she came onto the deck. He had begun to think she preferred to spend all her time in her cabin.

"Good morning, Dallas/' Smokey said congenially as she moved past him and approached Scully He noticed that she was dressed as she had been in London--baggy clothes, black boots, knit cap, and all. She stopped next to Scully and waited for him to face her. Dallas, without effort, overheard their conversation.

"You've got a few hours, Scully, to make sure you're ready."

Her voice was a bit stern. "If you don't have proper food on this trip, I won't be at all happy."

"Aye, missy," Scully said with a frown, and Smokey turned away.

Dallas had to duck his head in order to hide his expression. So, she*saprima donna to boot/He didn't knowwhen he had been more repulsed. He watched as she went below. A minute later Da.r.s.ey appeared Da.r.s.ey handled the load and later the casting off, and although Dallas did his Job silently and efficiently, he was beginning to feel a strong aversion to his captain.

malice 2 * P "" ^^^ Dallas> duties were mini'

mai once they were out at sea, and he found himself feeling a

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little bit of heaven on earth. In just a few days' time, he had become adept at ignoring Smokey and at the same time studying her clipper.

Dallas had never been on a s.h.i.+p that could move with such speed. The Aramis was a yare vessel, and he had never seen her equal. She cut through the water with the ease of a sharp blade against tender beef. If he hadn't understood before, it became increasingly clear now why this boat was in and out of port before the Zephyr could even get moving. The cut of her bow, the placement of the sail--in fact everything Dallas could see--contributed to her grace and speed He smiled to himself on more than one occasion as he worked There may he aspects of this job I don't enjoy, but studying this craft more than makes up for every one of them.

The afternoon of the sixth day saw Smokey on the deck more than any other day previous. Quiet as they sailed, she allowed Da.r.s.ey to handle most everything, but her eyes were watchful. Everyone on deck knew that the s.h.i.+p would be in the midst of a storm before the night was through. What remained a mystery was how hard it would hit, and for how long.

The afternoon was swiftly disappearing when they moved into heavy cloud cover. The north wind seemed to pick up as if by magic, but still no rain fell. The wind had begun to whip the craft as though the magnificent clipper were but a toy. Hoping to beat the rain that was sure to come, the crew was lowering the sails as fast as they could They worked fast and hard, but the wind was stronger and trouble came. Smokey had never left the helm, so no one had to summon her when the rigging of the mainsail would not come loose. The sail had to come down or be ripped to shreds.

Dallas, who had been working with Mic and Robby securing the other sails, turned to offer his services to Da.r.s.ey. He

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had climbed the mainmast dozens of times in his day and would be only too glad to make repairs on this one if needed What he saw when he turned, however, stopped the words in his throat.

Da.r.s.ey and Smokey had come down on the deck, and Dallas watched in horror as Smokey clamped a knife between her teeth, jumped up onto the mainmast, and began to climb.

Dallas swiftly tied off the line he'd been holding and ran toward the mast. With one foot on the base he reached to haul himself upward, but Da.r.s.ey's huge hand stopped him.

"Don't do it, lad," he shouted over the wind 'You can't be serious," Dallas shouted back, knowing he would never get past Da.r.s.ey if he prevented him.

"YouVe misjudged her, Dallas," Da.r.s.ey returned, speaking his name for the first time. "She is the captain of this s.h.i.+p, and she's been climbing the rigging since she was three years old If you interfere, I can promise that she'll land you in the next port and leave you to make your own way home."

Dallas could do nothing but step back and look up, just as the rest of the crew had done.

Smokey had removed her tunic, and the wind now plastered her white blouse to her slim form. She had tangled her small-booted feet in the ropes and balanced herself, much like a circus performer, in order to free up both hands for the work.

Dallas didn't think he could breathe as he watched her swaying dozens of feet above the deck, but her face, although determined, was almost tranquil. Her hands, he also noticed, moved with skill and dexterity until the job was done.

She came down as swiftly as she had gone up, and Da.r.s.ey, catching her around the waist, swung her onto the deck where she joined her own hands to the men's as they brought the sail under control.

There was no pomp or ceremony. To the rest of the crew it was routine. For Dallas, however, it was like a blow. All his notions concerning her abilities as a captain were falling into a heap about him. As he worked, he stole glances at her.

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Some of her crew had been sailing for more years than she had been alive, but she made them seem almost clumsy. There were no hesitations or mistakes in her movements, no s.h.i.+rking of any job. Her eyes missed nothing, and with a minimum of effort, all was put right for the storm.

Not ten minutes later, as the clouds broke loose above them and the rain began to pour, Dallas realized that his bias had colored his every thought. Smokey had behaved no differently since they left Maine than he had on dozens of voyages.

The crew was extremely capable in their performance, leaving Smokey free to comport herself as she should--as the captain of the Aramis. Dallas knew he had a lot of soul-searching to do.

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Two days later, dallas stood at the stern of the s.h.i.+p, swabbing the deck, checking lines, and coiling rope with Pete.

Save the cleanup, all signs of the storm were over. Although it had not been the worst storm he'd ever seen, neither had it been the mildest. The wind and waves had actually moved them ahead of schedule, so the Aramis was not in a hurry but moving along at a steady clip.

In the time that had pa.s.sed Dallas had prayed during his every waking moment. He had come to the conclusion that while he did not need to verbally apologize to Smokey, he must by his actions show her his respect. She certainly deserved it.

Contrary to what he had thought, there was nothing or no one aboard the s.h.i.+p over which she was not in complete command. Dallas found that the Aramis was only an extension of the woman herself. There was nothing showy or bossy about her, but with a gesture or softly spoken word, her every wish was obeyed. Dallas found that he wanted to laugh when he thought about how full circle his thoughts had come. He had moved from nearly despising her to being slightly in awe.

He realized now that he had experienced a taste of her authority when they'd talked on the beach. She had said more to him than ever before, and there had been no hesitation or shyness. It was almost impossible to relate the woman he saw

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at the helm of the Aramis to the woman who had spilled her water gla.s.s twice during lunch at home.

"Dallas," Da.r.s.ey called to him from the helm. "Run to the captain's cabin and bring the large gla.s.s."

Dallas trotted down the stairs to do as Da.r.s.ey bid. When he returned to the helm, Smokey put her hand out for the instrument.

"Thank you," she spoke almost absently. Dallas followed her eyes and spotted the s.h.i.+p in the distance. He watched as Smokey placed the gla.s.s to her eye, and then again as a huge smile broke across her face.

"It's the Clausen," she told Da.r.s.ey, who was right beside her. She handed him the gla.s.s.

Dallas felt more than saw that the other men had become almost tense. All had stopped their duties and were watching the captain and her first mate intently.

Smokey took the telescope from Da.r.s.ey and had one more look. When she lowered it again, she sported a look that Dallas had never seen before but would come to love.

"Let's catch him." The words were almost whispered, but the crew went into action as though on strings. Dallas felt the blood pump in his veins as Da.r.s.ey tacked off and headed due south and he and Mic ran down to man the lines.

The sails whipped and cracked as they let loose, and the entire vessel seemed to lift out of the water for the chase.

Dallas looked up at one point to see Smokey behind the wheel. For a moment he was distracted in his duties, thinking how well the position suited her.

They were some three miles away when the crew of the Clausen realized their s.h.i.+p was under pursuit. The crew of the Aramis watched with glee as Clausen's canvas blew to full sail and the other s.h.i.+p tried to outrun them. The Clausen stood no chance.

Dallas was amazed at how quickly they pulled alongside of the other s.h.i.+p. Smokey stood on top of the wheelhouse, the gla.s.s again to her eye as they sailed past. The crew heard her

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shout of laughter when the captain of the Clausen stood high and waved his handkerchief as a white flag.