Saving The Pirate (Book Two)

41. Sailing Days

If you want to know the truth, the first few weeks were the same. I got up, and I went to work immediately, getting to the gallery and making breakfast for everyone. After everyone had eaten and went to work, I cleaned up. Then, I did laundry, cleaning sheets, clothing, scrubbing boots, whatever I could get my hands on. I sewed, I polished, and I mopped. I cleaned up the ship.

I would be lying if I said I enjoyed the work I did. I mean, I was doing the same thing while I was courting, but when I was courting, I could get away with a lot more things. So, you see? These were the struggles that I had. I was in between wanting to be an independent individual and wanting to lie down and take a nap.

I had to remind myself more times than I wanted to that I wanted this, that I needed this, and I did. I did want and need to be this type of girl and have this type of job; its just I don't want to do it sometimes. But I did it anyway.

I thought I was a pretty good worker. I was what a captain should want to see in their staff: a responsible, attentive, and devoted employee. I was those things, but did I want to be them all the time? I mean, would you want to be under the rules and laws of the same man that made you play his wife? Had you fall in love with him and then break your heart? And now work for him?

I think you understand the way I feel.

Now, Tristan? He was enjoying what he was doing. Fish completely took the red-haired man under his wing. Fish showed him and me the ropes (literally) when I was done with my duties or in between them.

Fish was a good teacher. He taught us what ropes to pull for each sail, how to navigate the winds, the proper way to clean out a cannon which I didn't know we had, and even how to steer the ship. I was a fast learner and picked up things quickly, but Tristan?

He didn't know the bloody hell he was doing.

Anytime Fish had us do something, Tristan would look at Fish like he didn't hear a single damn thing he said. Of course, Fish was the type of man that had the patience to explain the whole concept again, but I did catch a few eye-rolls from him from time to time.

It was hilarious.

But what was even funnier was that Tristan was smiling through the whole thing as if nothing could disrupt his cheerful mood, and that annoyed everyone a little, even Captain.

You could see the irritation on his face. The little scowl he had when he watched his friend make a joke about the work he was doing, the slight vain pulsing on his forehead when Tristan sang a jolly song while petting Gata, and the tip-tap of his boot when Tristan was trying to flirt with a crew member over how big the man's biceps were.

I'm pretty sure that Captain wanted to prove to his mate what hard work it was to work on a ship, and that maybe he deserved some credit for moving up in the ranks that eventually lead him to the position where he was at now.

Honestly, since we left Scotland, Christopher was silent and antisocial. He barely spoke a word to anyone, even Tristan, and it all went out the window for me. I watched him with close eyes, studying the way he announced something and then slid away from everyone else, the way he decided to take his meals to his room, and the way he drank obsessively. It was strange.

I stopped my work sometimes to watch him do these peculiar things. It was only for a second or two, nothing more, but I noticed them, and part of me worried. I hated that I felt that way, but I did.

But I kept that to myself and continued with my work.

Nights, I think we're either the loneliest of times or the most joyful of times. Some nights, I would spend crying about my life while others, I would spend smiling and laughing about it, wondering why I was even crying the night before in the first place. It was the only time I could allow myself to be myself.