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    Wings of the Morning

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      for all my 23 years, and I don't know what I'll do without him."

      Darsey silently weighed his choices. To coddle her right

      now would make matters worse, but he fully believed that she

      needed to grieve her father. He decided that for the moment

      at least, she needed to buck up. Her grief could come later.

      "I'll tell you what you'll do," Darsey's voice was stern.

      "You'll captain theAramis just as he taught you."

      Smokey looked at him in surprise and saw that the entire

      crew was standing by, 25 officers and men, their eyes not on the waters that had swallowed her father, but fastened on her.

      Smokey turned completely to face them, and as she did so,

      Sftwsev moved to stand with the men. A moment passed, and

      s'n stepped forward, his posture and voice holding

      respect.

      : are your orders, Captain?"

      ^''nt have been more surprised than if he had

      tfflg at her. She studied their faces, and as her

      Teach man, he removed his cap in a gesture of

      s>

      17

      fealty. Smokey fought the tears that threatened to choke her

      and spoke when she could

      "I've a yearning for southern waters," she told them softly,

      her voice gaining momentum with every word. "Ready yourselves,

      men, and set sail."

      "Aye, aye, Captain" was all she heard, her every word their

      command. She watched as they moved to their positions. Her

      own gaze went back to sea.

      "You can do this," Smokey whispered to herself, "and you

      can do it well, thanks to your papa." She prayed then, asking

      God for guidance and wisdom. In so doing, she gained her

      first glimpse of what her father had felt all these years--the

      duty, the responsibility to his men, and even the loneliness in

      going on without someone you love.

      Darsey surreptitiously watched his new captain from his

      place behind the wheel. He was praying also. Smokey might

      have been surprised to learn that his prayers were not for her

      as a captain, but for her as a woman. He asked God to bring

      a special man into her life. Someone who would love her

      enough not to be intimidated by her position. Someone who

      would see her for the extraordinary woman that she was.

      Darsey understood more than any of her men what a

      superb captain she was. He believed, however, that she would

      make an even finer wife and mother.

      21kennebunk, maine

      Jury 9,1850

      amid the crowd of well-wishers, Jennifer Pemberton

      stood next to her husband and studied the bride. She was as

      lovely a bride as any girl could hope to be, her eyes sparkling

      with happiness over the day's events. Jennifer was reminded

      of the way she had felt at her own wedding just the year

      before.

      Hundreds of people were attending today's celebration,

      since the groom's father was a man of some influence in the

      area. Jennifer's attention strayed for a moment, and her eyes

      caught sight of another woman in the crowd She looked pale

      and somewhat overwhelmed, and Jennifer wondered if she

      wasn't as much a stranger in these surroundings as she herself

      was.

      Wearing a dreadful brown dress that did nothing for her,

      the woman, she observed, was quite petite in both height and

      build. Her hair was blue-black and shiny, but pulled back

      tightly into an unbecoming bun at the back of her head

      Jennifer wasn't sure what prompted her, maybe it was the

      almost fearful way the woman held herself, but she felt compelled

      to seek her out. After touching her spouse's arm, she

      moved a few yards away to stand beside her.

      22

      "Friend of the bride or groom?" Jennifer's voice was very

      kind, and the other woman, after starting slightly, looked like

      she had been thrown a lifeline.

      "I guess the groom," she admitted in a hesitant voice. "My

      father was a merchant sailor, and we've had dealings with

      Carleton Shipping for years."

      "Was a merchant sailor?" Jennifer prompted gently.

      'Yes. He died two years ago. I run the business now."

      Jennifer again heard the hesitancy in her voice, but couldn't

      place the reason. She took her to mean that someone sailed

      her father's ship or ships, and she did the book work.

      "By the way," Jennifer spoke again, finally remembering

      her manners, "I'm Jennifer Pemberton."

      'Victoria Simmons," she supplied, giving Jennifer her first

      real smile. Jennifer was so surprised at the way it transformed

      her features that for a moment she said nothing.

      Why, she's lovely! she thought to herself. The drab color of

      her dress and her severe hairstyle are hiding a lovely flower

      amid weeds.

      "Areyou a friehd of the bride?" Victoria wanted to know,

      feeling strangely at home with this woman who was watching

      her so intently.

      "No. I'm in the same position you are, or I should say, we

      are. My husband does business with Carleton Shipping. I've

      never even met Ben Carleton, but Tate--that's my husband-- knows him. Until today I'd never seen the bride or groom.

      What are their names again?"

      "Steve and Bridget," Victoria replied

      "Oh, that's right."

      Both women watched as the newlyweds made their way

      toward the door. Once they were out of view, Jennifer turned

      finrf, ikte headed toward them.

      t, here comes my husband. Tate," she spoke when he

      Ibeside her, "this is Victoria Simmons. Victoria, this is

      """*. "Rite Pembenon." Hp meet you, Victoria."

      23

      "Thank you. It's nice to meet you also." Victoria couldn't

      have been more sincere, but she was suddenly out of words as

      she stood before this tall, striking couple. Amoment of silence

      fell until another couple approached, and Victoria found herself

      just outside their circle. After watching a minute with

      some regret as the other four visited with careless ease, she

      turned and walked away. It was going to take more than two

      hours to get home on the stagecoach, and she knew she had

      best get going.

      She was a block away from the church when she heard a

      man calling her name. She didn't know anyone in this part of

      Kennebunk, so for a moment or two she ignored him. The

      voice was insistent, however, and Victoria finally turned Tate

      Pemberton was rushing up the street, a look of profound relief

      covering his face.

      "Jennifer nearly panicked when she couldn't find you. She

      thought we'd lost you for good We have our carriage. May we

      offer you a ride home?"

      "Thank you, Tate," she told him sincerely, thinking this

      was the nicest gesture she'd experienced in a long time. "And

      please thank Jennifer for me, but I live on the other side of

      Kennebunk, nearly to Kennebunkport, and I'm sure that's out

      of your way. I'm going to take the stage."

      "We live in Kennebunkport, so your home must be right on

      the way," Tate told her with surprised pleasure as he took her

      arm and began to lead her back up the street. Tate asked her

      exactly where she lived,
    and when Victoria explained, Tate

      nodded decisively.

      From down the street Victoria spotted Jennifer standing

      outside the church, looking anxiously in their direction. Even

      from a distance, Victoria could see her smile as they neared

      "I thought we'd lost you, and we had so little time to get acquainted,"

      Jennifer told her sincerely, still wondering what it

      was about Victoria Simmons that attracted her.

      "I appreciate your offer, but are you sure it's not a bother? I

      came on the stage, and it's really no trouble."

      24

      "You're right on our way," Tare supplied as the coach

      appeared. He ushered the ladies inside. Within moments they

      were headed down the road toward home, the women sharing

      one side of the coach and Tate across from them.

      "I really appreciate this, Jennifer," Victoria began, but the

      other woman cut her off.

      "Please call me Jen or Jenny. All my friends do. We're glad

      to give you a lift. The stage can be so crowded and stuffy."

      Victoria smiled at her, and Jenny was again amazed by the

      change in her. Jenny would have been surprised to learn that

      Victoria smiled because, compared to some of the cabins she

      had occupied in her life, the stage felt huge.

      "Jen tells me you're in shipping," Tate mentioned at that

      moment.

      "Yes, I am. It's not a large business, but we're never without

      work."

      "How many ships do you own, Victoria?"

      'Just one," she told him.

      "I might know your captain," Tate leaned forward slightly,

      frank interest covering his handsome face. "What's his name?"

      "Do you always go by your full name?" Jenny asked, choosing

      that moment to interrupt her husband "Or do your friends

      call you Vicky?"

      "Actually," Victoria turned to Jenny, since Tate didn't look

      at all upset over the interruption, "my nickname is Smokey."

      "Smokey?" Jenny was surprised.

      "It's her smokey gray eyes, Jen," Tate said with satisfaction.

      "That's right," the smaller woman told him with a smile.

      "That, along with the fact that when I was a baby, my father

      used to say I would get so angry he thought smoke might come

      from my ears."

      The Pembertons enjoyed this, laughing at the vision. The

      conversation moved to many avenues in the next two hours,

      and with only one brief stop, Smokey was home a little ahead

      of the stage. She thanked the Pembertons for the ride and

      25

      made her way into the house, a rambling, somewhat ramshackle

      two-story that had been home since her father died.

      Smokey lived with her first mate, Darsey, and his widowed

      sister, Willa, who were both still up and settled in the small

      parlor when she came in. Smokey took a chair by the open

      window, and they looked at her expectantly.

      "How was the wedding?" Willa wanted to know.

      "It was nice."

      "It didn't give you any ideas, did it?" Willa's look was

      hopeful.

      Smokey laughed. "What was I supposed to do, grab the

      first man I saw and make it a double ceremony?"

      "That's not what I meant, and you know it," Willa told her

      with a stern look that could not mask the fact that she wanted

      to laugh at Smokey's words.

      "Who brought you home?" Darsey questioned her.

      "The Pembertons. They live just beyond Little Fishing

      Rock, and when we met after the wedding, they offered me a

      ride."

      "Old Saul Pemberton? I thought he passed away more than

      a year ago." Darsey frowned in thought.

      "It wasn't Saul, but his son, Tate, and Tate's wife, Jenny.

      Jenny's maiden name was Knight." Smokey fell silent for a

      moment.

      "You should have seen her dress," she said almost dreamly.

      "The bride's?" Willa assumed, hoping the wedding had

      started Smokey thinking about having a family after all.

      "No," Smokey's voice was still soft. "Jen Pemberton's. It

      was beautiful. Makes me wish I had taken your advice, Willa,

      and gotten myself some new clothes."

      "Well," the older woman said almost indignantly. "There's

      nothing stopping you from getting some now."

      "Yes, there is," Smokey replied matter-of-factly. She stood

      and stretched, hiding an expansive yawn behind her hand.

      "We sail for Wales in two days. What would I do with a fancy

      28

      dress aboard ship? Goodnight, Willa." Smokey kissed the

      older woman's cheek and then moved toward Darsey.

      "Goodnight, Dars," she said after she'd kissed him also.

      "Sleep well, lass," he told her and watched her lovingly as

      she left the room.

      Willa waited only until she heard the floorboards creaking

      upstairs before she lit into her brother.

      "Honestly, Darsey, you've got more pull with that girl than

      anyone! You could have said something--put in a word or

      two!"

      "About what?" the man asked in genuine confusion.

      "Her clothes!"

      "What *s wrong with her clothes?" Darsey frowned in puzzlement.

      "She's always clean and well pressed"

      Willa snorted in disgust. "I'm not talking about that*/wear

      clothes that are more stylish than hers. Most of her clothes

      look like widow's weeds. It's not as if she can't afford something

      new." Willa's emotions were high, but Darsey was calmly

      logical.

      "Be that as it may," he told her, "it's just like Smokey said

      What would she do with a bunch of frills on board ship?"

      "Well, she's not going to sail forever," Willa said petulantly

      and rocked a little harder in her chair, all the while frowning

      in her brother's direction.

      Darsey, who had entertained this thought on more than

      one occasion, suddenly had nothing more to say.

      It was growing dark so Tate and Jenny had decided not to

      rry at Smokey's small house in the country. Still, she was the

      ^^r^v1Cu ?nversation as they continued their ride home.

      jgatshe the sweetest thing, Tate?"

      ^^d she is," he answered as he moved across the

      |next to his wife. "There's something fascinating

      27

      about her. She's such a mixture of confidence and vulnerability."

      "I was surprised at her age when she first told us, but then

      as I watched her, I saw that she certainly isn't a child"

      "Well, 25 isn't what you'd call old."

      "No, but when we were at the wedding, I'd have said she

      was closer to my 20. Then as we talked, I realized she has

      almost a worldly look about her. Not worldly really," Jenny

      immediately contradicted herself. "But her eyes seem older

      than the rest of her, if you know what I mean."

      Tate silently digested this. "You know," he said finally, "we

      did an awful lot of talking, and other than finding out that she

      shares our faith in Christ, we really didn't learn much about

      her."

      "Do you suppose that was deliberate on her part?"

      "No, I think she genuinely liked us, but I just get the

      impression that she hasn't many friends." Oh,

      Tate!" Jenny was struck with what she considered a

      wonderful
    idea. "Go back in a few days and invite her to come

      for a visit. I know we would have such fun, and something tells

      me she would love staying in a house that was right on the sea.

      It would be such a change for her after living inland"

      Tate agreed wholeheartedly, and in three days' time the

      coach took him back to Smokey's house. Smokey wasn't there,

      however; the door was answered by a woman. Tate assumed

      her to be the woman named Willa, about whom Smokey had

      spoken.

      Willa told Tate that Smokey was away and wasn't expected

      back for quite some time. Jennifer, he knew, would be very

      disappointed

      29

      morocco

      one month later

      "You don't have to say it, YusuF. I can tell by the look on

      your face that Smoke has been here. Is the whole load gone?"

      "I am sorry, Captain, yes," the old man's grin belied his

      words. His smile was infectious, however, and Captain Dallas

      Knight grinned grudgingly in return.

      "How does he do it?"

      Yusuf's grin widened to rival the size of his thick waist.

      "The ship," he said, and Dallas' eyes narrowed in thought. "I

      am not saying Smoke is not good captain. But the ship is fast.

      Maybe even fastest." The captain nodded, catching the other

      man's meaning, even amid the broken English.

      Dallas had gotten word concerning a load of tea in Tangier.

      Since he had been in Spain, he'd set sail almost immediately,

      but as usual, a ship called the Aramis, and a captain

      known only as Smoke, beat him to it. It was a continuation of

      the familiar pattern of the last two years, but that was no

      comfort. His business was suffering as a result.

      Dallas appeared to study the toe of his boot, his mind

      miles away. You wouldn'/ think that in an ocean the size of the

      Atlantic, one ship could cause me such trouble.

      R was all too true. To Dallas it seemed that the Aramis, or

      lather her captain, had no rules. The ship did not seem to be

      governed by time or wind The Zephyr, Dallas' ship, had been

      on the losing end of the expertise of the Aramis' captain on

      many occasions. It never seemed to fail--if word aired that

      merchandise of great value was up for grabs, the captain and

      crew of the Aramis did the grabbing.

      Dallas finally thanked Yusuf and returned to his ship.

      Within minutes they were underway. He had one other stop.

      Some miles down the coast, in Casablanca, a load of sugar

      awaited him. From there, he was forced to admit, he had no

     
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