Sally's Sailor by Laura Stapleton

Author:Laura Stapleton [Stapleton, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stapleton Enterprises
Published: 2019-01-19T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Henry opened his eyes to the dark room. His job on the cannery boats began at dawn. Judging from the pitch black outside, he had plenty of time to get ready and go.

He turned over, still surprised Sally lived with him. They might have had a few weeks to get used to the idea of marriage before she arrived, but reality was different.

Now, Henry had a wife he couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t—love. He glanced over at her. Too little light existed to see her despite her soft snores telling him where she was. He closed his eyes. God help him, he even loved her breathing. Yesterday had been such a fiasco and he wouldn’t live long enough to make up for leaving her behind at the store. He’d overestimated how deep into a daydream she’d been in.

Henry eased his way out of bed. He had nothing else to do but work hard and…what? Prove he loved her? Prove he didn’t mean to abandon her? Prove he’d be a better husband?

He stood and shook his head. No. He needed to prove nothing to a wife who deserved better. They both knew she wasn’t cut out to be a farmhand/wife to him. She was sunshine filled music rooms with charming and clean children, shared with her banker husband. All he could plan to give her was a roughhewn home with children like he’d been. And that was if she were lucky.

An unlucky woman would be like his Ma and marry someone like his Pa. Henry snorted while pulling on a boot. He might rethink this whole farm wife thing and just hire help. Plenty of children needed adopting, too.

Heck, Sally and all of her sisters were orphans at one time. He wouldn’t mind having a houseful of boys to take fishing and help out on the farm. Girls were nice, women were nicer most of the time, but he didn’t think adopted daughters would like to skip rocks, climb trees, hunt, and race horses for fun.

The ghostly gray of predawn light eased across the apartment. Henry sighed and grabbed his coat, dislodging Sally’s bonnet in the process. He replaced her hat on its hook and gave her one last look before leaving for work.

Like the last item remaining on a to do list, Sally stayed on his mind all day. He did the usual work of pulling the nets on board, dumping salmon into the hold, and replacing the nets for later. Then, a run to the cannery in Astoria when the boat filled. Repeat until sundown, sleep, and back at it the next day.

Henry stepped off of the boat aware of his smell. He couldn’t let Sally wash his fishy clothes. Yet another reason to find her a job and let her move on with her life.

“Hey, DuBoise, can you hold one for a minute?”

A little tremor of dread went through him from his boss’s voice. His quotas had all been met or exceeded, Henry reassured his worry. He lifted his chin and asked, “Sure, Skipper, what do you need?”

The tubby man in coveralls walked up to him.

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