* * * * *
Ritcherd’s relief was indescribable when the goods were finally delivered and the transaction went smoothly and without incident. By sunlight the following morning, the Phoenix was sporting the colors of the colonies and sailing toward the only port where Garret was certain they’d meet no trouble. Ritcherd was amused, when he went with George to retrieve the colors, to see that the ship was also carrying British and French flags, as well as the Jolly Roger they’d been flying the majority of the time until now.
The Phoenix dropped anchor at the dock of Hedgeton, and Captains Garret and Buckley went ashore to check out the situation. As soon as they started moving through the streets, Ritcherd was immediately grateful for his reformed appearance. This was obviously a place common for pirates and privateers, or one trying to pass themselves off as the other. An aristocrat would have probably been beheaded before he reached the tavern. A woman like Kyrah would have been sorely out of place, but Ritcherd still watched for her continually. He formed an image in his mind of what she might look like walking among people on the street. Picking out every woman he saw, he realized that none of them was even Kyrah’s type, let alone coming close to her beauty.
Ritcherd followed Garret to an inn called the Harbor. He didn’t feel the least bit conspicuous as they entered and found a table in the corner, but he was keenly aware of all eyes following them. He concluded that Garret had a commanding presence that was difficult to ignore.
They’d only been seated a few minutes when the innkeeper approached them and set two drinks on the table. “Cap’n Garret!” he laughed as they shook hands.
“How are ye, Leon?” Garret said.
“Doin’ well. And business is good.”
“Glad t’ ’ear it,” Garret said. “I’d like ye t’ meet m’ new partner, Cap’n Buckley.”
“A pleasure,” Leon said, shaking Ritcherd’s hand as well.
“Th’ pleasure’s mine,” Ritcherd said, glad they weren’t meeting in a dark alley. For all Leon’s friendliness, there was a suspicious air about him.
Leon sat down and exchanged small talk with Garret for a few minutes while Ritcherd sipped his drink and discreetly observed his surroundings. He realized that everyone here looked suspicious. It was as if no one was willing to completely trust anyone else. There were practically no women in the place, and most of the ones here were serving drinks and flirting with the sailors. He wouldn’t find Kyrah here.
When Ritcherd turned his attention back to Garret, he was whispering something close to Leon’s ear. Leon nodded and walked away. Garret followed him. They disappeared into a back room, and Ritcherd realized he didn’t like the feeling of being alone. The cutlass and pistol in his belt were suddenly a great comfort—and knowing he had the ability to use them added to his peace of mind. He shuddered to imagine Kyrah alone in a town like this. For the sake of distraction, he pulled Kyrah’s brooch out of his pocket. He toyed with it absently as he often did when he felt idle.
Garret returned a few minutes later and leaned across the table. Ritcherd expected the usual answer, but his heart beat quickly as Garret whispered, “The Libertatia docked here six weeks after it left England. It couldn’t have stopped anywhere else. According to the timing, it’s perfect. There was one woman on board.”
Ritcherd realized he had lost all sense of time, and it was a good thing Garret hadn’t. It seemed like years since he’d seen Kyrah. “So now what?” he asked, hearing a tremor of excitement in his voice.
“We ask around. Find out if anyone’s seen her.” Garret lifted his brows deviously. “Maybe she’s still here.” Ritcherd smiled and Garret went on, “Several of the crew have friends or family in this area. In fact, this is where I came across a number of them in the first place. So, unless something comes up to change our plans, I think we’ll settle in here for a while. You can take your time and give the place a thorough search. I’ll be seeing that we get the supplies we need. And we can all get in some land time.” He lifted his brows and added, “It keeps life in balance.”
Garret grinned and took a swallow of his drink. Ritcherd resisted the urge to jump out of his chair and begin combing the streets this very instant. While he was formulating some measure of a plan in his mind, he was surprised to feel the brooch open in his hand.
“I did it,” he said and Garret looked puzzled.
“Did what?"
“Nothing, really.” Ritcherd chuckled, looking at the open clasp. He wondered if he’d worn it out, but examining the clasp closer, he could see that he really had opened it.
“It was kind of a challenge,” he told Garret, trying to fasten it again. It took a great deal of effort to maneuver the finger and thumb of his right hand, but he could do it.
“So,” Garret said, “the right hand’s not so useless after all.”
“No,” Ritcherd chuckled as he undid the brooch again, almost fascinated by his own fingers, “I suppose it’s not.”
Garret smiled and finished his drink. The captains returned to the ship, where Garret gave detailed orders of what they’d be doing the next several weeks while they remained in port. By alternating shifts, they would take turns at keeping watch on the ship, seeing to the necessary work, and having some recreation. The Phoenix would undergo some necessary maintenance and be checked thoroughly for seaworthiness, and supplies would be purchased and brought aboard.
After the men were assigned their tasks, Garret turned to Ritcherd and said, “While I’m overseein’ all o’ this, I want ye t’ stay in port and remain persistent on that little problem we discussed earlier t’day.”
Ritcherd smiled and nodded. When the men dispersed he turned to Garret, who added with a smirk, “Now, while you’re searching for your lady, I’m going to find one of my own.”
“Anyone in particular?” he asked as they left the ship together.
“Aye. I’ve been to this port many times. And with any luck she’s not forgotten me.”
Garret smiled and saluted casually, leaving Ritcherd to begin his search.