Phoebe's Light by Suzanne Woods Fisher

Author:Suzanne Woods Fisher [Fisher, Suzanne Woods]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance;Young women—Fiction;Quakers—Fiction;Christian fiction;Love stories;FIC042040;FIC042030;FIC027050
ISBN: 9781493412495
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2017-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

13

23rd day of the tenth month in the year 1767

Numerous times each day, Silo popped into the captain’s cabin to bring Phoebe peppermint candies or lemon drops to help settle her stomach. It never occurred to her that he had stolen these delicacies from other crew members. It should have.

Someone saw Silo rummaging in the forecastle and turned him over to Hiram Hoyt. Phoebe heard the commotion and went outside to see poor Silo tied to the main mast like an animal. His large eyes pleaded with her.

Phoebe tried to untie the boy, but Hiram Hoyt stopped her, grabbing her arm. “I’m sorry, but he’s been seen stealing from the crew.”

She shrugged her arm away from the first mate and sought out the captain. He was in the cabin, changing clothes. He stood by the window with his back to her, unbuttoning his coat.

Phoebe explained what she had just seen. “How could this be? He’s merely a boy.”

“He’s twelve. Hardly a boy. You distress yourself unnecessarily, Phoebe.” He slid his arm from his left sleeve and turned to look at her. “A crew requires severe discipline. The success of a voyage depends on the crew.”

“I believe Silo was trying to help by bringing me things to ease my suffering.”

He rolled his eyes when she used the word “suffering,” as if he was tired of it. “The first mate is making an example of the boy. Better to instill respect for the ship’s authority now, when the barrels are empty, than to face a mutiny when the barrels are full.”

“Captain Foulger, a crew would not mutiny a captain they respect.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Phoebe, your naïveté was once charming but has already worn thin. A whaling captain bears a heavy weight of responsibility. I not only have to train and manage my crew, but I must answer back to the owners of the ship with a full hold of oil.” He buttoned each button of his jacket. “If you plan to continue this journey, you will keep silent about things that you know nothing about.”

She stared at him. It suddenly dawned on her why he had never requested that she call him by his Christian name, only by his formal title. She was nothing more than a crew member to him, a disappointing one at that. “Or what?”

“Or you will be put off at the next harbor, to return to Nantucket on a ship that is homebound.”

“Thee would put me off?”

“I have considered it. You’re not well. ‘Suffering’ was the word you just used.”

She couldn’t argue that. Her seasickness had not alleviated, and she was losing weight she did not have to lose. But to be put off ship by her husband, to return to Nantucket . . . how utterly humiliating.

“Don’t,” she begged in a tiny voice.

“Don’t?” he repeated, a hard edge to the word.

“Don’t put me off the ship.”

He looked at her directly, frowning. “Come,” he said.

She followed him as he moved to his shipbox and watched him unlock it.

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