chill wrapped around Cole’s spine like seaweed on a fishing line. “I didn’t— I’d never say anything like that,” he insisted. “All I said was that I’d kick you out of our cabin so...” The chill increased. “Shit,” he muttered. Women always misunderstood things. Our cabin. As in his and hers, not his and Robbie’s. “I was thinking about waking you up so you could take care of them. Those women were ready to throw Maddie overboard.”
Uncle Trig scratched his head with both hands. “Well, they assumed by what you said that she’s your wife and that’s why she’s on this ship. Robbie promised them there weren’t any other passengers.”
Cole’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t escaped one marriage just to be shanghaied into another.
“There weren’t supposed to be any other passengers,” Robbie said from where he sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Where’d she come from?”
“Hester,” Trig said.
“Why didn’t you deliver her to Mrs. Smother’s?” Robbie asked.
“I did.”
“How’d she get on board?”
Cole blew out a long breath. Trig wouldn’t force marriage upon him, especially not to a stowaway. “In a barrel.” He withheld the grin trying to form and asked his uncle, “What are you going to do with her?”
Uncle Trig let out a raspy guffaw. “We aren’t turning around, I’ll tell you that. We’re set to be one of the first boats to arrive in Alaska this spring.” He crossed the small cabin and shrugged out of his coat. While hooking it on the nail on the wall, he said, “The women have settled down, believing she is your wife, and that’s how we’re going to leave it.”
A shudder raced through Cole. “I’m not—”
“You want a mutiny?” Trig asked. “You want to see that girl thrown overboard? If those women find out they’re being lied to, that’s exactly what will happen.” Shaking his head, he declared, “A hundred men, I could handle. A dozen women...” His gaze went to Robbie. “Will never sail on one of my ships again.”
Robbie turned a bit sheepish, but Cole still couldn’t breathe.
“She’s a smart girl,” Trig said. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow about the importance of letting those women believe their assumption.”
Cole held in a protest—it wasn’t worth the effort right now—but that didn’t stop disgust from lining his guts.
“All right, then,” Trig said. “It’s settled. Cole, you’ll just have to take most of the night shifts, letting Maddie sleep in your cabin. Robbie will bunk with me. During the day, while you get some sleep, she can stay in here.”
“We could—” Cole started, convinced he could come up with a better plan if he had time to hash it out.
“What’s done is done,” Trig interrupted. “It’s not that long of a trip, and hopefully once we hit Alaska they’ll forget all about it.” Waving Robbie off his bed and pointing toward the hammock hanging loose against one wall, he instructed, “Hook that back up. I need to get some sleep.” Turning to Cole, he said, “Your shift’s not over. Try to keep those hens from clucking any more tonight.”
* * *
The gnawing of guilt wasn’t new to Maddie. A person who’d been born unwanted was used to it. Blaming herself for things for as long as she could remember wasn’t new, either, but this time it was different. Lucky was mad, and she was the reason. When they did encounter, his eyes didn’t twinkle and there was no perpetual smile on his lips like when she’d sailed from California to Seattle. Trig, though, was as jovial as before, even while explaining the trip to Alaska was over three thousand miles and would take several weeks.
The length of the trip hadn’t bothered her, but the other things he told her did. How on earth was she supposed to pretend to be married? She not only knew nothing about marriage, but she didn’t want to know anything about it.
There were, however, other things she did need to know.
Five days had passed since the night she’d been discovered. The women’s sneers were easy to avoid; she simply retreated to Trig’s cabin whenever they left the hull, which unfortunately, was the better part of most days. As long as it wasn’t raining.
Avoiding Lucky was about as simple, since he took his turn of steering the ship at night and slept during the day; however, she didn’t want to avoid him. His books were no longer answering the questions she had, and all Trig or Robbie, who was rather pleasant to be around, would say was she’d have to ask Lucky.
Captain Trig, after explaining the misunderstanding—about her and Lucky being married—had said her appearance hadn’t shocked him. She’d thanked him for understanding and for not throwing her overboard—at which he’d laughed—and after explaining Mrs. Smother’s training program would never have worked for her, she’d offered him her nugget in partial repayment for all she’d cost him.
He’d refused to take it, and that was when he’d told her Lucky would be staying in Alaska to search for gold. Maddie struggled to contain her excitement. Being cooped up in the cabin and unable to question Lucky felt worse than waiting out a snowstorm in the dead of winter.
Trying not to cause more anger, she made sure to be out of the cabin early each morning so Lucky could go there to sleep. It wasn’t hard, being up so early. The inactivity of her days was wearing and made sleeping difficult. Not even reading helped. Her mind grew tired from her constant ponderings, but not her body.
Maddie shifted her gaze to peer out the little window beside the bunk and let out the air that sat heavy in her chest. Here she was, lying on the bed, staring into the blank darkness again and unable to sleep because of the energy she hadn’t been able to use up during the day.
When a knock sounded, she sat up. “Come in.”
“Sorry to disturb you,” Lucky said. “I just need a coat. It’s a chilly night.”
“You didn’t disturb me.” She found the nearby lamp and flint box and lit the wick. “I wasn’t asleep.”
His gaze settled on her briefly as he walked to the foot of the bunk where nails held a couple of coats. She’d eyed those jackets more than once, expecting she’d need a coat once they arrived in Alaska. There were so many things she’d need, and wasn’t sure how to obtain them. She now had an extra dress. The one from Mrs. Smother. She’d kept her old one, once she’d laundered it—that had been her first lesson in domestic chores, as Mrs. Smother had called it—and she’d never parted with her petticoat and the nugget sewn in it. It was what she’d use to outfit herself for gold mining, but that little nugget wasn’t going to be enough.
Watching Lucky pull down a coat, the thought of what the women below believed made her insides burn with embarrassment. “I promised Captain Trig I wouldn’t say anything to the women about what you told them.”
“I didn’t tell them anything. They assumed.”
She nodded. “He told me that. I’m sorry about putting you in such a predicament.”
Putting on his coat, he let out a snort that
