Surrender the Dawn by MaryLu Tyndall

Author:MaryLu Tyndall [Tyndall, MaryLu]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-60742-546-5
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2011-12-18T20:00:00+00:00

Luke planted his boots firmly on the quarterdeck as Destiny rose over yet another swell then plunged down into the murky sea. Waves crashed over the bow, spraying the air with foamy salt and sending a waterfall over the deck. A giggle sounded, and Luke’s gaze shot to his brother on the main deck. He was talking with Mr. Ward, the gunner. Feet spread apart, John stumbled only slightly before he righted himself then held out his hands and dipped a bow at Mr. Ward’s hearty applause.

Despite his apparent sturdiness, Luke was still glad the boy was tied to the mast with a rope long enough to allow him access to the entire deck. Aside from his initial bout of seasickness, the lad had more than adapted to life aboard the ship during the long weeks at sea. With his positive outlook, cheerful disposition, and strong work ethic, the crew took an immediate liking to John. But it was the odd relationship that had developed between him and the ornery gunner that surprised Luke the most.

Biron crossed the quarterdeck and halted beside Luke. “Courses and mains raised, Cap’n, and the horizon is clear.”

Luke shielded his eyes from the setting sun as a hot gust of wind punched him. They’d been running under courses for days now. No need to unfurl the stays and topsails until they gave chase. Or, God forbid, were chased. Either way, they’d not spotted a ship in a week, which was why Luke had ordered Destiny on a south-by-southeast course to intercept West Indies trade routes.

Biron chuckled. “Ward’s taking a liking to the boy.”

“Odd. Yes.”

“I wonder if he’s the best influence on the lad?” Biron quirked a brow of reprimand at Luke.

“Knowing my brother, it’s him who’ll be influencing old Ward for the better. Perhaps, the old codger will even stop his swearing and drinking.”

“Perhaps you will join him.” Biron’s voice was etched with sarcasm.

Luke chose to ignore it as the ship crested another wave. Bracing his feet on the moist deck, he breathed in the fresh, salty air. He loved the sea. There was freedom here upon the waves. Freedom and power. For the first time in his life, he felt in control of his own destiny.

Gripping the quarter railing, Luke glanced up at the sails, their white bellies bloated with wind. Mr. Keene stood on the main top, directing the sailors adjusting canvas, lace flapping at his cuffs and collar. His humor was vastly improved from the last voyage. As were several of the sailors. No doubt due to the bottles of rum locked in a crate belowdecks, and the money that still lined their pockets. Bottles Luke had brought aboard, despite Miss Channing’s insistence to the contrary, but only on the condition that Luke would dispense the alcohol at his discretion. Which so far had only been two ounces in a cup of lemon water twice a day to each sailor. This seemed to appease the men, but it made Luke’s vow to abstain while sailing all the more difficult.

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