Voyage of the Dreadnaught: Four Stella Madison Capers (8 page)

“
And what a show it is,
this morning. See how close we're traveling between these two rocky
islands? Look how the water is so still our wake is nothing more
than a wide ripple in the shape of a V spreading out behind
us.”

“
It's the most beautiful
place I've ever seen in my life.”

“
Absolutely
magnificent!”

“
And those tall sun-warmed
pines—I could smell them wafting in through the open porthole. It
was just glorious. Made me think back to summer camp days, when I
was growing up. Funny how things of nature impress you so much more
in your youth.”

The colonel glanced over at her with a
mild surprise—he had one of the most expressive faces she had ever
seen. Sometimes, she was sure she could tell exactly what he was
feeling without him having to say a single word. Especially when he
was working away at his writing. Now, a glint of delighted
enthusiasm came into his gray eyes, and she was sure he had hit on
a break-through, or conquered some road-block in his current
manuscript, this morning.

“
Interesting you should
bring that up, Stel! Because I was having the very same thoughts,
myself, this morning. Young people being so impressionable, and
all.”

“
Isn't that amazing. Only
married a month, and already we're starting to think the same
thoughts. What brought it on?”

“
A bit of inspiration that
dropped into my mind and fit like a glove.” He set his coffee down,
put his hands on his knees with a decisive smack, and said, “My
dear, I have decided to write a book for boys!”

Another coincidence! Wasn't she
thinking about important information being “dropped down” at vital
times, only a few minutes ago? Oliver had called it an inspiration,
and simply taken it in stride. If it truly was a piece of
information from heaven—designed especially for them—what a
wonderful way to live that would be! At least, that's how Stella
was thinking about it just then.

“
Are you talking about one
of your hero books scaled down to a reading level for younger
people? Why, Oliver, I think that would be marvelous.” She cut a
piece of cinnamon roll off with her fork and popped in in her
mouth. “Mmm. Light, perfectly spiced, with just a touch of almond
flavor in the glaze.”

“
I don't think they can
get any closer to perfect.”

“
No doubt. But back to
heroes. Your stories are so good. Even more so because they're
true. I don't think children get enough truth these days. In fact,
none of us do. When I taught school, it seemed like so much that
was offered to young people was beneath them.”

She paused for a moment, wondering,
hit on a bit of logic that seemed to fit, then continued her
thinking out loud. “I remember there was some new philosophy going
around that students had short attention spans. But you know
something? Maybe they were simply bored by things that really
didn't have any depth. And, Oliver?”

“
Yes, keep going—I like
how our thoughts keep running in the same directions.”

“
Well, I think boys would
find stories about heroes anything but boring. Or even too
difficult. In fact, I believe they would rise to it.”

“
That's exactly it,
Stell—they will rise to it! Only I'm not going to write them a
story about heroes. I'm going to write one that will show them how
to become one.” Then he threw back his silver-haired head and
laughed at the sheer pleasure of the thought. It was so delightful
and catching, Stella couldn't help laughing with him.

“
And I know just how to do
it, too!” he declared. “Because I know boys like the back of my own
hand!”

3

At ten o'clock, Stella went into the galley
to get a start on the lasagna she would be making for dinner. The
place wasn't half as scary in the daytime. Especially with everyone
coming through on various errands, or simply to get a bit of
something to nibble on. There was a large porthole over the sink
where one could look out while chopping vegetables, or doing
dishes, and today it was so lovely it practically took her breath
away.

They were moving through a place called
Johnstone Strait, after some particularly tricky maneuvering
through another place called the Seymour Narrows. They had to leave
an hour earlier than the usual schedule in order to catch the
narrows at slack tide. But Captain Stuart knew his stuff—he had
even taken this route once before. Of course that was many years
ago, and he had been driving a tugboat back then. Hauling shipping
containers full of all manner of merchandise and personal effects
bound for Alaska.

Now, the danger was past, and the
waterway had opened up into a long, wide channel of lovely
pine-forested islands, with little coves and harbors to pull into.
Should anyone take a fancy to do that. However, the crew of
the
Dreadnaught
had fallen
into the comfortable routine of setting out at seven each morning
(if there wasn't a fog), and then being settled at anchor somewhere
else between six, or seven in the evening. Which was always
daylight, this time of year, because the sun rose somewhere around
five-thirty, and didn't disappear until after nine in these
northern latitudes.

Stella was thinking about all these things
when Cole DeForio (that handsome young man Lou Edna had smuggled
aboard when they first left California, and had now become their
much-appreciated First Mate), came in looking for Millie. It wasn't
until she looked up from scattering freshly-grated Parmesan cheese
over her second layer, to tell him Millie was taking a nap, that
she noticed he had the Senator tucked under one arm as if he were a
football instead than a baby.

“
Oh, good heavens, Cole...” She wiped
her hands on her apron and reached for the toddler. “That's no way
to--”

But the boy was having the time of his life
(such a good-natured baby!) and gave her a big grin when she turned
him right-side up, again.

“
I don't know anything about babies,”
the young man replied. “Only bringing him to Lou, or Millie, so
Gerald can take his turn at the wheel.”

“
Nonsense.” Stella couldn't help
reverting to her teacher-tone at such a remark. “I can tell you
everything you need to know about them in two sentences. They're
just little people. Give them the same respect you would anyone
else and they'll love you forever.”

“
Kid doesn't even talk, Mrs. H, what's
to respect?”

Cole had a beautiful smile to set off his
dark hair and rugged handsomeness, and he must have known it.
Because Stella had never seen anyone who had so perfected the art
of charming others. In spite of which she was completely taken in
by him, herself. Then again, she had always had a soft spot for the
restless types, especially when their hearts held the least bit of
sensitivity toward others. Which this young man's did. Not to
mention the unashamed gratefulness he carried for Captain Stuart,
who promoted him to First Mate status, rather than sending him to
jail.

“
The same things you respect in any
other person,” she replied. “Like holding him right-side up, for
starters. Then look him in the eye, and call him by his
name.”

“
Senator's no name for a regular
person—especially a squirt like that.” He reached a muscular
forearm in front of her (that sported a tattoo of a ship's anchor),
to snatch some of the Parmesan she had been grating. “I don't know
what Lou was thinking to name him that. Isn't going to make things
better for him, only worse.”

“
I'm inclined to agree with you there,
but it wasn't our decision.”

“
Do you call him Senny, or Torry? I
don't like either.”

“
Call him anything you want, as long
as it's nice. That's what I do.” Then, by way of demonstration, she
held the child up until his darling little face was on a level with
her her own, smiled her friendliest smile, and said, “Hi, Sonny
Boy! Would you like a cracker?”

To which he gave a delighted squeal, and
nearly bounced out of her arms in anticipation.

Cole laughed at the obvious answer and
ruffled the baby's dark curls. “OK. I get it. Mind keeping him a
while? Lou and I had some... uh...words, last night. We need to
talk.”

“
I'd be happy to. I'll put him in his
high chair and give him a snack.”

Which was exactly what Stella was busy doing
when he was back not five minutes after he disappeared down the
companionway steps, as if there was a fire in the engine room, or
something.

“
We gotta turn the boat around!” He
was headed for the wheelhouse, on his way out the other door that
led to the decks. “Lou's Gone!”

After that, a near panic ensued.

No one objected to turning around—of course
they would turn around—but what had gotten into the girl? She left
the ship without permission. Something that was a near sin, in
Captain Stuart's estimation. Besides that, he informed them all, it
was no small thing to turn around. This because they couldn't just
chug back through Seymour Narrows without waiting for the tide to
turn.

“
Why can't we shove it full throttle
and push right on through, Stuart?” Gerald had lost all color in
his face at the news, and was shaking with worry as he turned the
wheel over to more capable hands. “Blast! It's an
emergency!”

“
Because of the blasted nineteen-knot
current roaring through there about now, Gerald. We only do ten.
When she's in top condition.” The Captain checked fore and aft, to
make sure there were no other nearby vessels, then gave the wheel
an expert spin to start the turn.

He didn't look like a captain should, with
that mop of gray hair sticking out in all directions, and those
bushy black eyebrows that nearly made a strait line across his
forehead when he squinted his eyes to look at something. And he
didn't dress like one, either. But Stella had to admit his
threadbare (oversized) black sweater, faded jeans, and tennis shoes
with no socks, did not seem to effect his expertise in handling his
own boat.

“
Oh, that girl's going to be the death
of me!” Millie sank down onto one of two deck chairs that were at
either end of the wheelhouse. The left side of her auburn twist was
falling out of the hair-clip, since she had been roused from her
nap.

All seven of them were crowded into the
small enclosure, not counting the Senator, who was seated
comfortably on Stella's hip, avidly watching the drama unfold, and
mirroring each speaker's expression as they spoke.

“
It's not like Shortcake to up and
leave without saying anything” Mason pushed his fisherman's cap
farther back on his head and ran a thoughtless hand over the
three-day stubble on his chin. “She lies ninety percent of the time
about where she's going, but she always tells us she's
going.”

“
Did anyone mention to her we were
leaving early this morning?” Even the colonel had left his desk to
see what was happening. “I thought I heard somebody on deck around
five-thirty, just after I started work. But I assumed it was
Stuart, or Cole, getting things ready for departure.”

“
Where on earth would she be going at
five-thirty in the morning?” Stella wondered out loud.

The question caused a heavy silence to fall
over the group until, one by one, all eyes finally settled on Cole.
He was leaning against the chart table in the back corner, his
troubled face in a turmoil as to whether, or not, he was going to
tell everything he knew. His gaze met Stella's and he took a deep
breath. She had been silently willing him to speak up, and he read
the message as if she said it right to him. However, rather than
explain, he simply pulled a folded piece of note paper out of his
back pocket and handed it over to Millie.

Dear Family,

I am not fit to be a decent mother, or
anything else. Please take good care of my boy.

Lou

At which point Millie burst into tears, and
the baby right after.

“
She's a deuce of a good mother!”
Gerald smacked a fist into his palm as if it might somehow help him
think. “It's the only thing she is good at!”

“
A good mother doesn't desert her own
child, no matter what the circumstances,” The colonel intoned. And
looking up at him from the side, with that rather Grecian profile
and wavy silver hair, Stella thought how he resembled one of those
ancient prophets whose word was always law. Then, again, he never
did have much patience for Lou Edna and all her lies.

“
Oh, why do all my children end up
leaving me?” Millie choked back a sob to ask. “What's wrong with
me? I feel like I'm infected with some kind of curse on
families!”

“
Millie, that's not true,” Stella
objected, bouncing the baby in a soothing motion and trying to
comfort her former landlady at the same time. “Why you've got a
bigger heart for families than any person I know. Just look at all
the people you're family to that aren't even related to you.” She
didn't mention that she wasn't related to Lou Edna, either, but it
didn't seem the time.

“
Thank you, Stella,” Millie sniffed
and reached into the pocket of her sweater for a tissue. “It's just
you have to wonder when all this love you feel keeps chasing people
away.”

“
We can philosophize, later,” said
Mason. “Right now, I'm thinking Campbell River is a devil of a big
place, and not a one of us here—except Cole—is of an age to be
raising another kid. At the very least, we're gonna have to split
up just to cover enough ground for a look-see. Then
reconnoiter.”