Three weeks had passed and Esther hadn’t even left the cabin. Ever since Captain Latham spoke to her, she’d insisted that Sam or Papa bring her food so she wouldn’t have to be seen. At all. Convincing herself it was best this way, she spent time sewing. And reading Papa’s Bible. And hiding.
So far she’d stitched two new shirts for both Papa and Sam and had read through the entire Word from Genesis to Revelation. She’d spent several days just reading and rereading First Peter, clinging to the verses about joy through suffering. Her next project was a new boned bodice she’d hoped to finish over the winter with a lace-edged linen apron to wear over her skirt. But with nothing else to occupy her time, she could probably have both of those finished within the week. Then everything she’d brought with her to stitch over the winter would be done. And the first snow hadn’t even fallen yet.
Papa seemed weary from all the hard work, but said at least the mishaps had ceased.
Which didn’t help Esther feel any better. She didn’t believe in curses, but she was beginning to believe that someone didn’t want her here. Why else would the accidents have happened?
It couldn’t be a coincidence that bad things occurred when she was around. But why would someone do that?
Putting her hands to her head, she squeezed. All this time alone with her thoughts wasn’t prosperous. She’d begged Papa to allow her to return to Boston, but there was no place for her to go. They’d leased their house for the year since they were going to be building the fort. And no one else had room. She’d sent letters, but alas, every answer was no.
A gust of wind shook the small cabin. Winter had come early.
In just a few days, November would be upon them.
If she didn’t leave, that meant she’d have to stay all winter. Like this. Locked up in the cabin with no company.
Oh, in the beginning Captain Latham had stopped by every day, but she’d given excuse after excuse about how it didn’t help his cause to be seen around the cabin. Eventually he stopped coming by.
Now she missed him. And the fact that it seemed like he cared.
She’d always been a quiet sort, but she found herself aching for a companion. Someone to share her thoughts with. She’d never been one to need much company, and the realization startled her. And made her wish the captain would come back. She cared for him more than she had allowed herself to admit.
Papa and Sam were so tired whenever they came in that there wasn’t much conversation. Other than talk of the fort. Which walls were progressing and how much longer before all the bastions were done.
She didn’t want them feeling sorry for her, but what could be done? There was no other option for her other than to stay and wait for the fort to be finished.
She blew out a breath. Rejoice. Always. With joy inexpressible. She hadn’t had much joy of late. Maybe she needed to read First Peter again.
Urgent pounding sounded at the door.
Esther jolted off her stool and put a hand to her chest. At the door she took a breath before opening it, praying that nothing had happened to Papa or Sam.
“Miss Howland? It’s Captain Latham.” His deep voice came through the heavy wood.
At the sound of it, her heart picked up its pace. She opened the door. “Yes? Is everything all right?”
“I am afraid Cook has died.”
“Oh. I am most sorry to hear that.” Cold air stung her cheeks, and she realized it was snowing. Quite abundantly. “Might I speak to you inside?”
“Of course.”
Once he was inside, he shook the snow from his clothes. “My apologies for muddying your floor, but I have an urgent request.”
“Do not mind the floor.” She couldn’t keep her gaze from him. “What can I do for you?”
“The harbor is already iced over. We weren’t expecting it this early in the winter, and it looks like there are storms coming our way. I know this has been very difficult for you, but I need to ask you to fill in for the cook. It will take weeks, possibly even months, before we can get a replacement, and there’s no one else on the island even barely capable.”
She couldn’t help but stare at him and blink. Cook? For all the men? While it would be wonderful to get out of the cabin, it sounded like a daunting task. And she had no desire to listen to all the rumors start up again and face the nasty looks the men sent her way.
“I know what you are thinking, and I have already assembled and spoken to all the men. While there are a few who still believe you are part of their ridiculous curse, the rest have agreed to let their superstitions die. It seems they would rather eat than think you are bad luck.”
“I see.” The look in his eyes was different than what she’d seen before. “Does my father think it’s a good idea?”
“Yes. He said you are a wonderful cook, and it would help the other men let go of their fears.” His eyes had taken on a tender look. “I must admit that I have missed seeing you, Miss Howland.”
The words made a blush rush up her neck. “I’d be happy to help you out, Captain Latham. Whatever I can do.”
“Thank you.” He went to open the door. “Supper has not yet been prepared, so …”
“You need me straightaway.” She offered a slight smile.
“Yes. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, Captain.” She headed to her bed. “Just let me fetch my cape.”
She had a new spring in her step. No longer would she have to be cooped up in this little cabin. It didn’t even matter that a few of the men still thought she was bad luck. She was needed, and she wouldn’t have to be alone any longer.
The men were lined up for inspection before supper. The snow poured down on them so Christopher could barely see. But as soldiers they were trained to deal with the weather no matter what.
“I’ll remind you men one last time that there will be no disrespect directed toward Miss Howland. As long as you want to be fed, you will keep this rule.” He shot a glare at Sergeant Jones.
“Yes, sir!” Men shouted from their lines.
“Good. Let’s eat.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and watched the men traipse into the tent. It would be wonderful once the fort was finished and there was a roof over their heads, but until then, this would have to do.
Moving to the open flap of the tent, he watched the men as they went through the serving line.
Miss Howland smiled at each one, and he noticed that many of the men spoke to her. Her face never registered fear, embarrassment, or shock. That was good. Perhaps things could finally settle down.
As he continued to watch, Christopher had an odd sensation in his gut. He wanted Miss Howland to feel wanted and appreciated. And he knew that would be very difficult because the men had been quite ugly to her before. But she had agreed to stay and cook for them until a replacement could be found. That was a step in the right direction, was it not?
While the rest of the men were served, Christopher watched—guarded their new cook—and was ready to pounce as soon as he heard a negative word.
But nothing happened.
In fact, Miss Howland looked quite happy. The smile that lit up her face took his breath away.
“Captain?” Was she speaking to him?
“Pardon?” Getting his thoughts back in check, he stepped forward.
“Are you going to eat?”
“Oh yes. Most certainly. Thank you.”
She ladled him a bowl of something creamy looking. A big whiff made his mouth water. “It smells delicious. What is it?”
“Potato soup.” The grin she sent him made him want to keep it there forever. Her white cap covered her light brown hair while the blue of her dress brought out the color of her eyes. While he’d thought she was lovely before, there was something different now. And he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He went to sit at his table, where Samuel and his son were sitting. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Good evening.” Samuel smiled. “It looks like Esther is doing well.”
“Yes, it does.” Christopher snuck another glance at her. Not seeing her for a couple of weeks had made him look at her differently. At first he’d thought it would be good to get his mind off the fact that he was drawn to her. But now? He wanted nothing more than to stare at her or go and talk to her. He needed to get his thoughts back in order. He was in command here. “How is the work coming?”
“This snow will slow us down.” Sam shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting it this early. Especially not in storms like this.”
The elder Howland nodded. “ ’Tis true. I haven’t seen anything like this in many a year. It will make things more difficult.”
“But it looks as though the bastions are all almost complete.” Christopher offered a smile.
“Yes. Which is good. But I must admit, I was hoping for a bit more progress before the snow piled up.” Samuel looked over to his daughter. “It’s good to see her smiling. These past few weeks have been very hard on her.”
“I’m sure they have.” He didn’t want to admit how difficult the weeks had been on him. He could only imagine how it had been for her, locked up in the cabin by herself.
Sam nudged him with an elbow.
Christopher blinked and turned his gaze to Miss Howland’s brother.
His eyebrows raised and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
Christopher was caught. Oh well, the younger Howland didn’t seem to be bothered by it, so Christopher spooned some more soup into his mouth. He wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but she’d creamed the potatoes perfectly into a thick and hearty soup. He knew it wasn’t very exciting to cook for dozens of men with a limited amount of ingredients, but she had done it well. Several comments from the men around him proved that she was winning them over.
“Papa.” Sam tapped his spoon on the table. “I wonder how much effort it would take to get one of the areas between the north and east bastion covered so that there would be a gathering place of sorts for the winter?”
Howland leaned back in his chair. “Hmm … We’d have to put off finishing the other two bastions for a time. Then there would be two more walls that would need to be built on the interior before we could put a roof on.” The older man nodded. “But it could be done.”
“Maybe we should focus on that with the way the weather has turned. It would help the men not catch their death of cold.” Sam turned to him. “Captain, would that be acceptable to you?”
“It actually sounds warm at the moment, gentlemen, so yes, that is most acceptable.” He finished off his soup. “And as long as the fort is done by next spring, I don’t think anyone will complain about which parts get finished first. Especially if it would keep us all from freezing our toes off.”