Read Wings of the Morning Page 9


  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 Darsey. 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.

  Darsey 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 Darsey'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 Darsey if he prevented him.

  "YouVe misjudged her, Dallas," Darsey returned, speaking his name for the first time. "She is the captain of this ship,

  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 Darsey,

  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 shirking

  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 ship,

  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 passed 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 ship 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 glass twice during lunch at home.

  "Dallas," Darsey called to him from the helm. "Run to the

  captain's cabin and bring the large glass."

  Dallas trotted down the stairs to do as Darsey 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 ship in the distance. He watched as

  Smokey placed the glass to her eye, and then again as a huge

  smile broke across her face.

  "It's the Clausen," she told Darsey, who was right beside

  her. She handed him the glass.

  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 Darsey 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 Darsey 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 ship was under pursuit. The crew of the Aramis watched with glee as Clausen's canvas blew to full sail

  and the other ship tried to outrun them. The Clausen stood no

  chance.

  Dallas was amazed at how quickly they pulled alongside of

  the other ship. Smokey stood on top of the wheelhouse, the

  glass 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.

  Smokey waved to him in obvious friendship as they pulled

  easily ahead. Dallas could not wipe the grin
from his face; he

  didn't know when he'd had such fun. Like a diamond in the

  rough, there seemed to be more to Smokey Simmons than he

  ever considered possible. In fact, that very evening he was to

  see yet one more facet.

  "Dallas," Darsey approached him on the deck where he

  was repairing some line, "Smokey wants to see you in her

  cabin."

  "Right." Dallas put his work aside and went directly below.

  He knocked on her door and waited for her to acknowledge

  him before going inside.

  Smokey was at her desk when he stepped in. She motioned

  him to a chair.

  "How is everything?" she wanted to know as soon as he

  was seated

  "Fine"

  "Good," Smokey said, taking him at his word. "The rest of

  the crew has known me for some time, and they would never

  hesitate to voice a complaint or concern. I wanted to be

  certain you felt the same."

  Smokey paused long enough to pick up a sheaf of rolled

  papers from her desk

  "I found these in my files, and I thought you might like to

  study them. You can't have them, but as long as you're on

  board you can look at them. They're the plans for theAramis"

  Dallas took the pages she offered to hfm and slowly unrolled

  them. His eyes drank in the lines and measurements

  with the ease of an experienced builder.

  "These are excellent," Dallas spoke, almost to himself.

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  "It's a fine vessel," Smokey agreed, causing Dallas to look

  up. He studied her across the small space for a long moment.

  She was as relaxed and confident as she could be behind

  I the desk. She smiled easily, transforming her entire face

  whenever she did, and there was nothing forced about her

  voice or movements.

  "I hope I'm not out of line to say that you're different on

  your ship than when you're at Jenny's."

  "Or at Buck's, when I'm dumping water on myself?"

  Smokey said dryly and laughed, freeing Dallas to join her.

  "How long have you been sailing?" Dallas was suddenly

  overcome with curiosity about this unique woman.

  "My father was a sailor, so I've been at sea all my life, but as

  an actual captain, just a few years."

  "How old are you--19, 20?"

  Smokey laughed again, and Dallas found he liked the

  sound "I'm 25, and I've been the captain of the Aramis since I

  was 23."

  "Twenty-five?" Dallas face showed his shock. "You look

  younger," he admitted softly, and even though he knew he was

  a crewman under her authority, he allowed his gaze to become

  rather warm.

  Smokey, still so attracted to him she had to work at keeping

  her composure, wanted very much to ask him what he was

  thinking, but Darsey knocked and entered His stern gaze

  pinned Dallas to the seat for a moment, making him feel

  closer to 15 than 28.

  "Here's your supper, lass--and yours is waiting in the

  galley, lad" Darsey stood expectantly on these words until

  Dallas stood and moved toward the door.

  "Thank you, Smokey," he told her before exiting.

  He stowed the papers in his bunk and then made his way

  topside, wishing for the first time that he was in command of

  this vessel, a position that would allow him to sit and talk with

  the fascinating Smokey Simmons for hours if he so desired.

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  Scully, Darsey, Mic, Dallas, and Robby were crowded into

  the galley having supper and swapping stories when Smokey

  entered Dallas watched in amazement as she slammed her

  plate on the table, slopping some of its contents onto the

  wood surface.

  "This has spinach in it, Scully," Smokey spoke between

  clenched teeth, her face bright pink with anger. "I told you in Florida to get some decent food"

  "Now, missy," he tried to placate her. "You need spinach.

  Remember what your father used to say, he--"

  "You have got exactly 15 minutes to get a decent supper to

  my cabin," she cut him off ruthlessly. "Or I'll have you keelhauled"

  She slammed out in a fury to match the storm they

  had just been through, and Dallas spoke.

  "What was that all about?"

  "She hates green vegetables, always has. And Scully always

  tries to get her to eat them. You shouldn't have tried it, Scully,"

  Darsey now said to the old cook. "She can always tell."

  "She doesn't eat right," he insisted "I don't know how she

  tasted them. If only she would--"

  "Oh, stow it, Scully," Mic told him. "Just make her something

  and take it down."

  After a fierce glare at Mic, Scully went to work, grumbling

  the entire time. After just ten minutes, he set a fresh plate on

  the table and turned to Robby.

  "Take that to her, Rob."

  "No way, Scully; you made her mad, you take it down."

  Scully tried Mic, pushing the plate in his direction. "Take

  this down."

  Mic didn't even acknowledge him, so Scully looked to

  Darsey.

  "Don't look at me. I won't go near her when she's been

  kept from her dinner."

  Dallas suddenly found the entire table staring at him.

  "Now wait a minute," he protested but was cut off.

  "Go on, lad," Darsey said with a huge grin. "You're low

  man this voyage, so get moving."

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  Dallas rolled his eyes, scooped up the plate, and walked

  low. He thought the lot of them were overreacting./MS? like

  bunchofoldwomen.Sbe'sprobablyforgottenallaboutitby

  v. Nevertheless, he knocked very softly on her door.

  "Come in." Smokey's curt reply brought Dallas through

  ithe door.

  He set the food down, and she examined the contents as

  though looking for clues to a crime. When she stayed silent,

  Dallas took that to mean she was satisfied; he couldn't have

  been more wrong. As soon as he started toward the door, he

  found himself getting the sharp side of her tongue.

  "Dallas, this cabin may be your idea of clean, but it's not mine. See to it first thing in the morning."

  Dallas turned back and stared at her for the space of

  several heartbeats. Her eyes were still flashing with fire,

  turning them from gray to black. The top of her head didn't

  even reach his shoulder, and yet she rose to give him orders

  like a giant. He wanted to laugh so badly that it hurt to hold it

  in.

  "Yes, Captain," he finally said "Will there be anything

  else?"

  "No." Her reply was short, and her eyes narrowed, daring

  him to make one move out of line. "You're dismissed"

  Dallas obeyed, letting himself slowly out of the room.

  After shutting the door softly, he paused in the passageway

  and grinned, his mind's eye still seeing the darkness in her

  eyes and the flush on her face. Dallas slowly shook his head,

  his grin still in place. He could honestly say he'd never met

  another woman quite like her.

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  "On the island. Along with Mic and Pete."

  "I think I'll swim over."

  "All right," Robby agreed easily enough, figuring that the

  id was large
enough to guarantee the captain's privacy.

  Since Dallas was dressed only in pants, there was no need

  go below for anything. He stepped to the railing, and

  >bby's brows rose with appreciation when a perfect dive was

  ited, one that caused little more than a ripple on the

  " urface of the water. Impressed, Robby watched as Dallas

  Surfaced and struck out with long, clean stokes. In no time at

  all, he was walking ashore. Robby only hoped that Smokey was

  in a secluded place.

  abouta week after the spinach incident, Dallas woke one

  morning and realized something was amiss. It was early, and

  without taking time to pull on anything more than his pants,

  he went topside.

  He found the Aramis docked near a small island. This

  voyage had been something of a pleasure trip for Dallas, and

  he'd had no need to keep track of their location. Now he

  wished he had paid a little more attention.

  Robby was the only one about, and he was standing calmly

  on the deck watching Dallas approach. The ship felt so deserted

  it was eerie

  "Where are we?"

  "China bland," Robby answered

  "I've never heard of it."

  "Not many have. Smokey's pa used to bring her here; it's

  where she learned to swim."

  "Is she over there now?"

  "Um hmm. Along with most of the crew."

  Dallas' gaze turned to the small island and lingered on the

  rowboats that were pulled up on the beach. He knew the ship

  boasted several rowboats, but it was an easy swim and the

  thought of walking on terra firma strongly appealed to him at

  the moment.

  "Is Darsey about?"

  "What does it say next?" Smokey wanted to know as she

  watched her first mate from across the table.

  Darsey turned another page. "A lady must keep her knees

  pressed together at all times; her legs should be gracefully

  crossed at the ankles. Ah, lass, do we have to go on with this?"

  Darsey put the book down and frowned at her.

  "Yes. Now keep reading."

  "Why didn't you do this at home with Willa?" Darsey

  asked, ignoring her order.

  Seeing that she was going to have to explain, Smokey

  sighed "She would have asked what kind of people my new

  friends were, that they expected me to put on airs in their

  company. She just wouldn't have understood."

  "I'm not sure I do," Darsey admitted There was no censure

  in his tone, only tenderness, and Smokey tried to make

  herself understood

  "I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I've been, Dars, but