“Who told you such a falsehood?” I said with a weak laugh.
“Slate. Or Graham, I suppose you’d prefer to call him,” he reported, still smiling.
“Why does everyone call him Slate?” I finally asked. It was an answer I had been dying to know.
“Because he came to us with a blank slate.” Captain Whitmore’s smile was rueful. I stared at him, wishing to see the humor. Then his expression changed too quickly to that of seriousness. “You might want to check on him. He was wounded badly.”
I leapt to my feet with alarm, everything else unimportant. “How badly?”
He held up his hands to calm me. “Not to worry. It isn’t fatal. The surgeon just left him in the first mate’s cabin and he’s all patched up like an old pair of trousers.” He smiled queerly at me. “I wanted to thank you personally for saving Mr. Weiss’s wife. It is a great day when we can rescue innocent lives. We’re glad to have you aboard, Miss Findlay.” Captain Whitmore bowed and went back up. What a strange man. One minute he was jesting, the next he was resolute and serious. He seemed to flip from one emotion to another in a single blink.
“Go,” Patrice said. “Go see Graham.”
“Are you sure? You were injured as well.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little bruised.” She wiggled a little to show me that she was hurt, but it wasn’t serious.
I nodded, then looked at Mr. Ashby. “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure you’re worried about him, too.”
We went together to where the Captain told us Graham had been treated.
When we entered, I saw the immense amount of blood on Graham’s shirt and gasped, running toward him. I knelt by his bed and pressed a hand over his. “Are you badly injured?” I asked him with obvious worry. Mr. Ashby held back and allowed us time to ourselves.
“Aye, but it willnae kill me. Dinnae fret, lass. Ye’ll have time to be disappointed in me tomorrow.” He began to laugh but ended up coughing instead. I retrieved some water and helped him drink before kneeling down next to him again.
I hadn’t strength for anything but honesty. “You have disappointed me greatly, many times. But I shall let all of those things stay in the past. Now, more than ever, I’m realizing the importance of the present.” I turned fully toward him, meeting his tired eyes with my own. “I propose we start over. I’d like to try and jog your memory with stories from our childhood, but I’m unsure if you would like that. So, if you wish, we can simply get to know each other from here.” I offered him a small smile. “Perhaps you will find yourself falling for me again.”
“Perhaps ye will find yourself falling for me again as well,” he replied. A twinkle of humor in his eye made me laugh. It was a pathetic excuse for a laugh, but it went through me all the same.
“I don’t need to fall for you again. I never stopped loving you, Graham Anderson.” My smile was weak, just like my laugh.
He searched my face for a moment, and I couldn’t be sure what he saw there. “I suppose we’ll just have to see.” He looked past me toward Mr. Ashby. “You seem to know me as well. What was your name again?”
“Arthur Ashby. We were business partners. You sent me to Scotland to deliver a letter to Miss Findlay here.”
Graham sighed and his speech became more lazy. “That sounds like a verralangstory. Might webletherlater? I am…a weepuggled.” It pleased me to hear him speak in Scots, for that meant he hadn’t forgotten his roots, at least not in the deepest part of his mind.
“Sure thing, my friend. You should get some rest,” Mr. Ashby said softly.
His eyes fluttered and then closed altogether. I would have thought he’d died had his chest not been rising and falling. It seemed to be the end of our conversation, though, so I sat there watching my Graham sleep. His face was peaceful in slumber, despite the pain he must have been feeling from his injuries.
“I don’t want to leave him,” I told Mr. Ashby. “I’ll sit with him for a while longer. You can go tell Patrice that I’ll be here.”
“I’ll tell her. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I nodded, not looking away from Graham. I took his hand, not caring whether it would startle him when he awoke. I had been through too much at this point to worry about such a thing. Touching Graham would keep me grounded while my mind raced with too many questions. Without even realizing it, I fell asleep, too.
I awoke to the sound of working men above me. Sunshine streaming through the porthole nearly blinded me when I opened my eyes. I looked at my shoulder to see a blanket covering me. I wondered who had put it there. Graham was no longer there. Perhaps he had done it?
My legs ached when I stood. Sleeping on the floor so long hadn’t been the best idea. If only Graham had lifted me to the bed when he got up. Although, with his injuries that may not have been possible.
After climbing to the top deck, I noticed the sails were secured and the ship was unmoving, save the usual rocking in the waves. We must have been at anchor.
Mr. Ashby found me standing in the middle of the deck. “Did you sleep well?”
I arched my back and stretched. “In a way,” I responded.
I saw we were in a blue and green bay. I walked to the railing and looked over the beauty of the water and the land beyond. It was extraordinary. Plants I’d never seen before graced the landscape, palm trees and flowering plants I’d only heard of. Even though it was some distance away, I could see vividly red flowers blooming on a tree.
