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“No. The British supported the Confederacy. In fact, they’d built theAlabamafor the South.”
He then told her about the loss of his friend during the battle. “He was a Colored steward named Charles Foster. Knowing him changed me from an illiterate, shoeless country slave into a seasoned seaman.” He quieted, thinking back. “Because of his duties as steward he was allowed to go into the cities where we docked to buy meat and vegetables for the crew, and he’d take me to help carry things back. Tagging along gave me the opportunity to see all kinds of new places and people not only in Europe but in places like the islands of the Caribbean and Cuba. He was also a member of the ship’s band. When we were in Cadiz, Spain, he bought instruments: guitars, violins, cellos.”
“There were navy bands?”
“Yes, and sometimes there’d be competitions with the bands on other ships. Foster was quite talented and had an excellent singing voice. Everyone thought very highly of him, even the White sailors and officers. When he died in the battle, the entire ship grieved.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “How many other Colored sailors were on the ship with you?”
“About fifteen. A couple were freeborn and the stories they shared about their families opened my eyes to the differences between their upbringing and mine. One man from Massachusetts had been a sailor for over thirty years. His family had been whalers since before America broke with Britain. Some of the freeborn had no slaves in their family whatsoever. That shocked me.”
“My brother said he met a few men from Howard whose families had never been enslaved. One was a Colored student from Ireland whose mother was Irish and whose father was a Colored English sailor.”
“I never knew there were Colored people all over Europe until I became a sailor. Being in the navy also turned me into a reader. A freeborn man named Harris helped me learn, and it was life changing. Once I began I never stopped. I have a book or a newspaper with me wherever I go.”
“You said you and your uncle signed up together. Was he on the ship, too?”
“No. He, along with many others, were separated out and sent to fight with one of the USCT units. We were reunited after the surrender.”
“Were you and the other sailors treated well?” she asked quietly.
He shrugged. “Sometimes yes, but most times not. Many of the officers were prejudiced. Sometimes the White sailors wouldn’t allow us above deck. We kept to ourselves mostly. The only time no one cared about color was during battle.”
She nodded understandingly.
“But the most valuable thing I learned in the navy?”
“Was?”
“How to walk in this world as a free man. Like reading, it changed me forever.”
After dinner Spring left Garrett to his resting and reading, and she took a seat on the front porch to enjoy the evening breeze. She thought back on their conversation about his service in the navy, and for the first time in her life found herself considering what it might be like to travel outside of the Territory. There’d been no interest before. She had her land, her horses, and didn’t need more. But listening to Garrett speak about far-flung places like Spain, Holland, and the Caribbean, piqued her curiosity. She’d never seen the ocean, nor a ship large enough to sail on one. What type of food did the people of Cadiz, Spain, eat? What did they wear? Could you hunt elk in the Caribbean?Did herds of wild mustangs run free in Holland or France?
She had no answers. Being around Garrett McCray had altered her thinking about life and her place in it in ways that were new and challenging: from how she defined respect, to what she deserved from a man in bed. In his calm, quiet way he’d changed her, not necessarily into a better person but a different one. She didn’t know how he’d magically accomplished this, nor put her finger on when it occurred, but she was not the same woman she’d been before finding him lost in the snow. And for the most part, she was fine with her transformation because it enabled her to open her feelings to him in ways she’d never done with a man before. She enjoyed his company and the ways he made her laugh. He accepted her as she was. Unlike some men in her past, he didn’t waste time trying to best her at everything. She’d become accustomed to having him in her life, and she cared about his safety and well-being. It made her wonder if this was love.
Her musing was interrupted by an approaching rider. As he dismounted and made his way to the porch, she recognized him. Zach Hammond. Years ago they’d both worked for Mitch Ketchum, but in the time since, he’d movedaway. Tall, gangly, and good-looking, with dark hair and eyes, she’d been sweet on him for a minute or two. He’d married the daughter of a Laramie preacher. Men like him used women like Spring for sport, not to take their name. Truthfully, she hadn’t held it against him. She still didn’t.
“Hey, Zach.”
“Spring.”
“What brings you to my door?”
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
“I’m okay.”
She waited while he assessed her.
“You still look good,” he said, showing the slow smile her younger self once loved having turned her way.
“How’s the wife?” she asked pointedly.
He went red and laughed softly. “You’re still hard as nails, Spring. My wife is well.”
“Good to hear.”
He drew in a deep breath and said, “I have a problem. Actually, Perry has one.” Perry was his younger brother. “He wants to claim the reward Doc Lee’s wife’s offering.”
