Windswept (8 page)

Nora jumped up and disentangled herself from her wraps. She ran to the exit calling over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Hyde. We’ll have three women here at least!”

Having already fastened the hood on her cape, Fanny waited by the front door, rolls of cotton bandages in her hand. Sidonia Seabrook, however, was taking precious time, still bemoaning her fate. “You can’t be serious, Eleanor! Go out in this dreadful weather?”

“Mother, get your coat. It’s not raining nearly as bad as it was. If we walk briskly, you’ll hardly get wet at all.”

“But…but look at you! You’re positively drenched. Sometimes I wonder if you have a sensible thought in your head, Eleanor. Why, with your propensity for colds…”

“Mother, I only have a propensity for impatience at the moment…”

Fanny threw a cape at Sidonia. It landed approximately around her shoulders. She then grabbed her cousin’s arm and began tugging her toward the door. “Put it on, Sid, or suffer the consequences. Either way, you’re going out that door and down to the harbor.”

Giving in with a resigned and mournful groan, Sidonia straightened the cape and tied the cord at her neck. With a last wistful look at Armand and Hubert, who sat watching the scene with alert, bright eyes, she managed a sorrowful goodbye and entered the elements.

A few other ladies had arrived by the time Nora returned with the Seabrook women. The rain had stopped and a makeshift infirmary was taking shape in the courtyard of Proctor Warehouse and Salvage Company, presided over by a capable Dillard Hyde. Pallets were set up next to a pile of blankets, and the smell of soup wafted from the interior of the building.

Nora was encouraged to see that at least some of her neighbors had responded to the emergency. She introduced herself and her family to the other women, and soon they all were speculating about the degree of injuries they might expect.

Eventually Thurston Seabrook arrived from the courthouse and commended his wife and daughter for acting as volunteers. He explained to Nora that the first responsibility of the wrecking master was to the passengers and crew of the stranded ship. No cargo could be rescued until every human was accounted for. He had come to the harbor himself to see that this most important condition was not violated.

Less than three hours after they departed, the first of the schooners rounded the bend to the harbor, their decks crowded with passengers. One of those ships, Nora saw, was called the
Dover Cloud
, and it was the schooner owned by Jacob Proctor. He was the first to tie up to the docks and consequently the first to help stranded voyagers off his vessel. Other ship captains followed quickly.

Despite the possibility of injured passengers, most all Key West citizens at the harbor were concerned with one question. Who had been granted wrecking master rights? Yes, there may be hardship to deal with, but the recovery of cargo was the lifeblood of the island, and it was uppermost in everyone’s mind.     Nora soon learned along with the others that a captain named Moony Swain had arrived first at the scene and had been granted rights by the
Morning Dove’s
skipper. Captain Swain would be the one to reap the rewards of his efforts once all the passengers were saved.

Few of the rescued individuals had suffered serious injuries, but nearly all of them were frightened, cold and drenched with sea water. The ladies went about dispensing soup and blankets, and the doctor was called to treat the more serious cases. Thurston went back to the courthouse, and Nora helped those she could, looking around at intervals for Jacob. When she saw the
Dover Cloud
leave port a second time, she knew he’d gone back to the reef. She hoped she would get a chance to speak with him later.

“Eleanor, come here, dear.”

Having scarcely seen her mother since they arrived at the harbor, Nora responded to her voice and found Sidonia inside the warehouse tending to an injured man. On closer inspection she realized that the man wore a professionally applied splint on his left arm, and her mother was merely talking with him.

“Can I help you, Mother?” Nora asked, smiling at the young man who was dressed in the soggy remnants of a three piece vested suit.

“I wanted you to meet our new house guest, Eleanor,” her mother chirped. “This is Theodore Hadley, an attorney from Falmouth. Mr. Hadley, my daughter, Eleanor.”

He extended his good hand and she grasped it in hers. “How do you do, Miss Seabrook?”

“I’m quite well, Mr. Hadley,” she replied, “and I’m sorry to see that the same cannot be said of you.”

He regarded the splint, breathed a rather dramatic sigh followed by a weak imitation of a smile, and then returned a limpid hazel gaze to Nora. “It was a perfectly dreadful experience, but I’m feeling much better now that you two angels of mercy have tended to my wounds.”

She delicately tried to extricate her hand, but he held fast. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but my mother and I are hardly angels, and this warehouse is a poor excuse for heaven.”

Sidonia laughed too loudly and fluttered her hand in front of her face. “Oh, silly Eleanor. Let the man say what he wants. I rather like his allusion. It’s quite charming.”

“Yes, well…” Nora finally pulled her hand free. “Did Mama say you’ll be staying with us for a while?”

“I am most fortunate to answer that in the positive, Miss Seabrook, and I find it the one bright star on an otherwise bleak horizon. Your gracious mother has offered accommodations during my recovery.” He attempted to move his arm, and finally let it hang useless against his chest. “I dare say, I don’t know how long this nasty break will take to mend.”

Sidonia tsked. “Now don’t you worry about that, Mr. Hadley. If I’d suffered as you have today, I know I wouldn’t have the courage to undertake a sea voyage for quite some time. My daughter and I will do whatever it takes to assist you in your convalescence. I believe that coming to the aid of our fellow man in dire times is the least anyone can do.”

Nora pasted a smile on her face for a moment before leading her mother a few steps away from her charge. “Why have you chosen this particular man to aid, Mama?” she whispered.

“Don't sound so suspicious, dear,” Sidonia said, immediately disengaging herself from Nora’s hold and returning to an expectant Mr. Hadley. “I’ll arrange for a conveyance to take you to our home as soon as possible.”

He struggled valiantly to his feet, uttering groans of discomfort. Nora was tempted to remind him that it was his arm that was injured, not his legs. “I think I can make it on my own, Mrs. Seabrook,” he said bravely.

“Very well, then. Come along, Eleanor.”

Nora had no intention of going anywhere yet. She hadn’t spoken with Jacob Proctor. “No, you go, Mother. I need to finish up with some things, but I’ll be along shortly.”

“All right, but don’t be long.” She took Mr. Hadley’s elbow and guided him to the street. “Lean on me, Mr. Hadley,” she said. “Everyone else does.”

When Nora came out of the warehouse, dusk was settling over the island. It was the first she’d noticed that the day was nearing an end. She’d been working with stranded passengers for nearly seven hours. Few people remained at the harbor now…just a few volunteers and, of course Dillard Hyde, who was wrapping up the coordinated efforts of the community.

“Get something to eat, Miss Seabrook,” he said to Nora when he saw her standing nearby. “I just encouraged your brave cousin, Miss Cosette, to do the same while we still have food left.”

She followed his advice and went to the large kettle steaming over a low fire. A volunteer gave her a mug of pungent chowder thick with potatoes, carrots and beans, and a slice of crusty bread. To Nora, who had just realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, it looked and smelled like a gourmet meal.

She sat on a bench inside the warehouse and scooped up vegetables with the bread. The hearty chowder more than satisfied her tastebuds, and she closed her eyes to savor it.

“Good, isn’t it? These people can cook, or else my poor little tummy was ready to accept anything edible.”

Fanny stood next to her looking almost as fatigued as Nora assumed she, herself did.

“Hmmm, it’s delicious.” Nora refrained from saying more since it would have prevented her from eating.

Fanny sat down and leaned against the wall at her back. She regarded her cousin with a playful sideways glance. “I think Sid has found a colorful peacock for you,
cherie
.”

The bread paused midway to Nora’s mouth as she turned to stare at her relative. “What does that mean?”

Fanny laughed. “The bedraggled but obviously fastidious counselor, Mr. Theodore Hadley.”

“Nonsense,” Nora said, focusing again on her meal. “He’s merely Mama’s latest cause.”

“Indeed he is, but not the way you think. Sid has plans for him all right, but they don’t include her, except perhaps in a roundabout way. My cousin is, and always has been, fiercely, and mundanely loyal to her dear Thurston.” She grinned over at Nora, mischief evident in her green eyes. “Which leaves you, dear heart, as the target of Mr. Hadley’s undying affection.”

“That’s nonsense Fanny,” Nora protested. “Mr. Hadley is only staying until he is able to travel again, and…”

“Bones heal slowly,
cherie
.”

“…
and
, I have no interest in him whatsoever. He’s not a man who would appeal to me, nor I to him most likely.”

Fanny tapped a long fingernail against her lip. “Still…you could do worse, cousin. He’s not hard on the eyes. He has a successful career, and while his clothes were ruined, they were of the best quality, rather like those belonging to that Hyde fellow,” she said with a baffling grin. “Perhaps Sid has the right idea after all.”

“Humph! What utter nonsense.” Totally ignoring her manners, Nora scraped the remaining chowder from the sides of the mug with a thin crust of bread. “Go home, Fanny. I’m beginning to think you need rest more than I do.” She plopped the soupy mixture into her mouth and grinned like a cat.

Fanny stood and stretched and looked out a window. “Very well. I’ll go.” The feline smile was suddenly etched on her lips as well. “I won’t be leaving you alone however. I see the
Dover Cloud
just pulled into port.” With a flounce of her soiled skirts, Fanny left.

Nora turned and looked out the same window Fanny had. It was almost pitch dark and yet her cousin had recognized the shape of Jacob’s schooner when Nora could only see shadows. “She must have special telescopic vision where men are concerned,” Nora said to herself, envying yet another of Fanny’s talents which had not been passed down to her.

Within minutes the shadows on the dock moved toward the warehouse. Nora crouched down on the bench as the men came inside and headed directly for the soup kettle. All but one that is. In the lantern light, Jacob Proctor was clearly distinguishable. He bypassed the food and strode to the staircase leading to the second floor.

“Can I bring you a mug, Jacob?” Willy asked. “You’ve hardly eaten today.”

Jacob’s heavy boot hit the first step. “Aye, maybe later, Will. Save me some.”

He proceeded up the stairs while his men gathered around the kettle. Now was Nora’s chance. If she was ever going to speak to Jacob, it had better be now. The men didn’t give her notice as she passed them by and climbed the stairs behind him.

Jacob’s back was to her when she reached the cupola. This time he apparently hadn’t heard her ascent because he didn’t speak. He appeared intent on the dark horizon to the east where the floundering ship still listed on the reef. Lights from houses in town were visible over his shoulder. Stars twinkled in an ebony sky. No one would have known that just hours before, a violent storm had buffeted the small island.

All was calm now, except, Nora thought, for the man whose head was bent in contemplation. His arms on the railing, his hands threaded and hanging in the air, and his shoulders tight with tension, he seemed a coil of pent emotions. She considered leaving him to his thoughts, but didn’t.

“Excuse me, Captain?”

His back straightened, and a shudder seemed to ripple down his spine as he turned toward her. She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but his mouth was set in a grim line. “Nora,” he said in a low voice. “What are you doing here?”

She took a step closer to him. “I had to talk to you,” she began. “I had to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

She ran her hands down her dirty dress in an unsuccessful attempt to smooth the skirt. She was a mess, and yet she had ignored her appearance to follow Jacob to the cupola. Her hair had come loose. Errant spirals spun around her head and neck, a wild testament to rain and humidity. Her dress was smeared with grime and even stained with other people’s blood. She left her hands at her sides, since they were useless in repairing her state of total dishevelment.

Taking a deep breath, she stated her purpose for being there. “After you were kind enough to offer your help today with the school, I distracted you from the watch. I know it was my fault you missed seeing the wreck first.”

A rasping sigh that came from Jacob Proctor’s throat was edged with derision. Perhaps he was angrier than she’d thought. He had a right to be. “I noticed you earlier today,” he said. “When I came back from the wreck. I watched you for a time.”