Where you have children, you must have routine. The children needed structure to their days, as this seemed to give them a sense of security and well being. It was established in the following days that upon awakening, five year old Lila, and her sister, three year old Sarah, would be tossed into bed with Betsy, as Violet dressed and went about getting their breakfast. The girls would break their fast together in the Captain's cabin, while Violet and the boys ate with the crew in the galley.
This was the time that Violet would assign chores to the crew, deciding what that day would hold, as far as preparations for their departure. Violet would not mind staying upon the island indefinitely, however, he knew the time would come when they would have to go. He had a very good reason himself for wanting to return home, other than just introducing Katherine to his new bride.
Violet had wanted to visit his mother also, as it was coming time for the solicitor of his father's estate to visit. Violet always tried to be there for that, as the man stayed on for a sennight, and Violet enjoyed his company immensely. The solicitor, Marcus Medeiros, had known, and been a close friend of Violet's father. Violet longed to hear the stories Marcus told, of growing up with the man that Violet had never had the chance to know. Just hearing about him, made Vi feel as if he knew his father at least a small bit.
Other than his mother's memories, which were only sightly more than a fortnight of courtship and marriage, he had none of his own memories to draw from. He wished so many times he could have been given at least one memory, but he had to be satisfied with others remembrances of the man. This was the reason the solicitor's visits held a very important place on Violet's list of priorities. Also it was time to return the men who had families, to see, and spent time with their loved ones for a spell.
According to the schedule Marcus always kept to, Violet had less than six weeks to arrive at their destination. It would take a month, give or take a few days, depending on weather, for them to sail home. It should work out perfectly, if they limited their time here on the island to under a sennight.
The Wench shone under the bright Caribbean sun, her wood now gleaming with a shine that raised spirits, and induced a pride in the crew to keep her that way.
That first day they had spent on the swimming lessons. Betsy and the babes were taught to float on their backs, tread water, and to hold their breath underwater while propelling themselves short distances. Jonah was a natural, one lesson and he was swimming like a fish. The girls took a bit longer, but were progressing nicely, Violet was very pleased with their efforts.
After the noon meal of johnnycakes and salted pork, the babes napped, while the cabin boys went about their duties. The bed linens and clothing had been dried on the rails and lines, they needed to be retuned their rightful owners and places of use.
Timothy went along with Pete and Bart in the dinghy, to fish, and try to replenish the larder with some meat and shellfish. The fresh catch would be used for their dinner, or dried for later use, packed in barrels, and layered in salt. Timothy knew how to swim very well and found a thrill in diving for shellfish. He would drop off the side of the dinghy and dive down, looking to find any edible crustaceans he could, bringing them up to Pete, then diving down again. He found a sort of peace under the ocean's surface, trying to deal with his father's death, yet grateful knowing they were safe now, he was able to come to terms with the recent past. There were times his father's face would swim before him, and his tears would mingle with the salt water he swam in, but they eventually passed, usually with the sight of a creature he would wrangle into his small netted bag. He dove to one side of the dinghy as the men tossed their net off the other side. It only took a short while until the curious fish were no longer frightened by the boy swimming in their midst.
Pete had recognized the boy's worship as what it was. Intense and humble gratefulness, for the part Pete had played in saving all of them from a horrible fate. Pete was just so relieved that their little lives would heal and they could go on as healthy, hopefully, happy children. Pete made an effort to praise the boy Timothy, sharing his smiles and sense of humor, in an effort to erase the damaging way that Redbeard's crew had abused the boy. He was a boy after Pete's own heart, Timothy only wanted to please, to be told he was doing a good job, and to be comforted when needed. The boy needed hugs and encouragement, Pete made sure he gave these things in abundance.
Violet had taken Sam and a machete to the shore, they were busy clearing a trail where the stream turned, as this was the closest, and easiest way, to gather the water needed for the trip home. Betsy had elected to stay aboard ship and put the babes down for their nap.
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Betsy looked at the three adorable children piled in her bed asleep. The swimming had worn them out and they had gone down rather quickly. She tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her, she would check back in with them in a little while. She left the Captain's cabin altogether and entered the hallway. She had an idea, and now seemed a perfect time to give it a go. She walked the span of hallway, until coming to the turn that would take her to the galley. She set her shoulder's, said a small prayer for her own peace of mind, and announced her presence by calling out beforehand.
"Mister Paulie, permission to enter the galley, sir." She stood outside in the hall, knowing the galley was hers, yet giving him the respect he seemed to desire by asking his acceptance of her presence.
"Whadee want?" Was her only reply from the surly cook.
Betsy grinned, and giggled a little, as she planned to set his world on end. "I have a favor to ask of you, Mister Paulie, may I enter?"
"I spose, iffn ye must." Paulie growled from the table he sat at, his rum, laced tea sitting before him. It was his break time, after the noon meal, not yet quite time to start their supper.
Betsy entered and when she stood before him, she gave him a little curtsy. She had changed back into her breeches, so had no skirts to hold. She felt funny doing so, yet she loved the look her actions had produced upon his face. He was trying so hard to scowl at her, and run her off, which only made her more determined to charm him.
"I have an idea, Mister Paulie, and I need your help." She said sweetly, once again batting her eyelashes at him, and smiling in a beguiling manner.
"I gots enuf ta do with out doin' ye any favors, girlie." He looked down into his cup as he spoke, because to look at her, weakened his resolve to be a hard hearted shrew.
"Tis a simple plan I have sir, yet I cannot do it without your help. I am not sure if ye have met the wee ones yet, but they are just the sweetest children, and I need some help keeping them occupied. I am aware of a recipe for dough that they may play with, if you would help me to secure some flour, salt and water. 'Tis just to create shapes and creatures, giving them something creative to do this afternoon while the boys are busy." Betsy had no idea, but she had said the magic words, wee ones.
Paulie sat at his table, looking into his cup, and another small chink in the rock around his heart took place, like it or not. This young girl was so sweet, she spoke to him in a way he had not been spoken to in a long time, and certainly not by a Miss.
Betsy came around the table and sat next to Paulie on the bench. She folded her hands in front of her and turned a little on her seat to halfway face him. She waited patiently as she saw a gamut of emotions play across the man's face. It was several moments, she could tell he had left her and this ship behind, his thoughts had roamed elsewhere. So she simply waited, and prayed, for this man that she knew was hurting deep inside his soul.
"I always wanted me a big family, I wanted children,..... of me own, to set upon my knee and tell stories to, to love and play with, and teach em right from wrong.' He looked up at Betsy as a single tear tracked it's way down his cheek. "Why we could no' have babes, I do not know." He shook his head and looked back to his tea.
Betsy felt the man's pain as if it were her own. Her own tears fell for this gruff, lonely man. She resolved he would have the children he so desperately wanted, be they his very own, or not.
"God has a purpose for all of our lives Mister Paulie, you sail with a man who rescues children from an awful fate. The whims of men can hurt these sweet children, yet you are a part of a group of wonderful men, who gives them a chance to continue, as children. The life they would have if ye did not rescue them, I really do not even want to try to imagine." She laid a hand on Paulie's wrist, giving it a slight squeeze, as he turned his eyes to where they touched.
No one, save Violet, had touched him with compassion, in years and years. Surely not a sweet Miss, who should have run for the hills, with the way he had greeted her aboard ship. He put his other hand atop hers that rested on his arm, and closed his eyes for a moment. Taking deep breaths to keep the dam of tears from bursting, he decided this little lady deserved his respect. From the moment he met her, she had shown him, nothing but.
"Flour, salt and water, ye say? Well, we ken work that up in a trice. Come along to the kitchen and show me this recipe of yers." He smacked both hands down on the table, "Hop to it, gets yerself movin girlie! I gots ta be figurin' what be fer dinner soon."
Betsy smiled at the gruff way he had of hiding his emotions. She felt she had made significant headway with her cook, she would not fear entering his domain any longer, .......as if she ever really had.
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