Two mornings later, we take leave of the City Hotel, long before our full week is up—paid in advance, both rooms, all four cots—and form a small parade with all our possessions to walk down to the docks.
The Major has the baby tucked in one arm and holds Andy’s hand with the other. I’m afraid he’s going to topple over on his wooden leg, but he stomps along like a man who’s been doing it his whole life and not just a few months.
Olive flits like a hummingbird. She runs ahead half a dozen steps, notices something new, and then immediately dashes back to tell us about it. “Ma, the sign on that big house says it’s an oh-per-uh. Ma, what’s an oh-per-uh?”
“An opera is a form of musical entertainment—”
“Jasper, is that man sick? He’s sitting against the wall and his skin is blanched. You said that when a man’s skin is—”
“Hush, dear,” says Becky. “It’s not polite to point out such things.”
The three bachelors walk together. It’s the first time they’ve all seen each other in days, because Jasper has been volunteering at doctors’ offices throughout the city.
“I’m trying to find someone I can learn from,” Jasper tells his friends, “but when a man with a crushed hand needed two fingers amputated, I was the one teaching the doctor how to do it instead of him teaching me.”
“That’s still better than my search,” Tom says. “Plenty of law offices, but none willing to give me a job unless I bring in my own clients. If I had my own clients, I could afford rent, and I wouldn’t need a job.”
Henry rubs his eyes. I suspect he was up all night again. I don’t think he gambles as much as he says, else he’d be broke by now, but he sure loves dressing fine and being sociable.
Jefferson and I bring up the rear, leading the wagon, which is loaded with our bags, and Peony and Sorry, who seem relieved to be let out of the stable. It’s our first private moment together since the walk back to Portsmouth Square the other day.
“I think Becky’s forgotten about the wedding dress,” I tell him. Softly, so there’s no chance of Becky overhearing.
“Not a chance,” he says.
“How can you be sure?”
“Well, this is Becky we’re talking about.”
“Good point.”
“Also, she asked Henry if he’d be willing to help me find a proper suit.”
“Really?”
“I tried to dissuade him, but without luck. He knows just the place. And he’s certain he knows just the color for me.”
“What color is that?”
“I’m pretty sure he said plum.”
“Plum?”
“Plum. Which, until that moment, I could have sworn was a fruit.”
I want to ask if any other colors were mentioned, but it’s a very short parade route and we have arrived at our destination, which is the Charlotte. I don’t see Melancthon anywhere about the deck, so I bang on the side.
“Whaddyawant?” comes from somewhere inside the cabin.
I hammer the side of the ship again. “Prepare to be boarded!”
His rat’s nest of hair bobs to the surface of the ship, and Melancthon Jones squints over the side at us. “Oh, it’s you,” he says, frowning. “I already told you, the house we loaded in Panama isn’t here anymore. You’ll have to go up to the customs office in Portsmouth Square.”
“We’ve been and gone,” I say. “That situation isn’t resolving as quickly as we would prefer. In the meantime, we’ve bought this ship.”
Major Craven reaches into my saddlebags, which are a lot lighter than they were a couple days ago, much to Peony’s delight. And much to mine. Carrying around all that gold was worrisome.
The Major holds up a deed for the ship and the land underneath, and waves it at the sailor.
Melancthon straightens like a man called to attention. After a moment’s pause, he hurries to the side of the ship and drops the gangplank.
“Come aboard,” he says, but he eyes us with mistrust. As far as he knows, we’ve just bought his house out from under him.
The children are the first to rush aboard. Andrew jumps up and down, cheering. “We have a ship! We have a ship!”
“A land ship,” Olive clarifies.
The Major pauses at the top of the gangplank and allows Melancthon to inspect the bill of sale.
“This is unexpected,” Melancthon says, combing his hair with his fingers, once again with no noticeable effect. “I didn’t plan to vacate until next Tuesday, but it’ll only be a few minutes’ work to gather my things.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” I tell him. “You said you were a carpenter?”
“That’s correct, ma’am. Started out as a carpenter’s mate nigh on twenty years ago. Been ship’s carpenter for seven years, the last three aboard the Charlotte.”
I like the way he squares his shoulders when he speaks, like a man who takes pride in his work.
“I need a carpenter,” I tell him. “Are you familiar with the Apollo saloon?”
“Formerly the Apollo? Now sadly run aground, down on Battery Street. I may have had a nip or two there on occasion.”
“I noticed they added a door at street level, along with an awning, and a second story above the deck.”
“Yes, ma’am. And they’ve got a very nice saloon inside—a long bar running the length of the lower deck, with booths and tables beside. Do you mean to turn the Charlotte into a saloon, ma’am?”
“Would that be a problem?” I ask.
“It’s just you don’t look . . . old enough to be the proprietor of a saloon. No offense intended.”
“None taken,” I assure him. “What can you tell me about this ship?”
“She’s one hundred fifteen feet in length, with a beam of twenty-eight, and a depth of sixteen—”
“I meant, more generally, what can you tell me about the ship?”
“We were a whaler, came sailing around Cape Horn, where we put in at Paita in Peru. The captain received an urgent letter from the American consulate there, enjoining him to pick up passengers and cargo at Panama and bring them to San Francisco. We sold off or unloaded all our stores right there, and converted the ship as well as we might en route to Panama. Once we got here, the captain decided to run the ship aground at high tide. . . .”
Again, not exactly what I need to know. “Maybe it would just be better to take us on a tour.”
“I can do that,” he says.
“Olive! Andrew!” calls out Becky. “Gather around. We’re going to take a tour of the ship.”
Our group, which had been wandering and inspecting independently, converges at the center of the deck. Melancthon points to the front of the ship. “That’s the foaksul . . .”
“Pardon me, the what?” asks Tom. “Could you spell that please?”
“F-O-R-E-C-A-S-T-L-E.”
“Ah,” says Tom, as if this makes perfect sense.
“Forecastle?” I ask.
“That’s what I said!” Melancthon points in the other direction. “And that’s the quarter deck, and there in the rear, that’s the poop deck.”
Olive turns to her mother. “Ma, did he just say poop deck?”
“I’m certain you misheard,” Becky says.
“It’s from la poupe, the French word for the stern of the ship,” Henry explains. “Which, in turn, is derived from the Latin word puppis.”
“La poop, la poop, la poop,” Andrew says. His mother turns scarlet.
This is all going terribly off track. “Maybe I can just tell you what I want, and you can tell me if it can be done, and, if so, how fast you can do it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Melancthon says.
“I’d like separate rooms for us to sleep in, and a larger room where we can meet.”
“We already did the first part, turning the crew deck into cabins, before we picked up the passengers in Panama. I can take you down the main hatchway and show you. And the galley, where we serve meals, that’s already as good a room as any to meet in.”
This may turn out easier than I’d hoped. “What about storage? Is there room enough to stable our horses and store our wagon?”
He points to a hatchway at the center of the ship, currently covered by a tarp. “For certain. We transported some cattle in the hold, at least until it was time to eat them.”
Even better. “What about putting a door in the side of the ship, so we can take the horses in and out just like a stable?”
Melancthon goes pale and takes a step backward. “You want to put a . . . hole in the side of the Charlotte?”
“Two holes,” I clarify. “One that would lead to the cargo hold, where we could stable the horses and store the wagon, but move them in and out easily. And then another one right here at the front of the ship, so we can walk in and out without climbing up the gangplank.”
“But . . . my ship . . .”
“Is never going to sail again. I’ll pay you to do the work, daily wages, whatever a carpenter makes in San Francisco right now. So if you can’t find a ship to hire you, by the time you’re done working for us, you can buy passage on one. This is your way out of California. In the meantime, you can stay aboard for as long as we’re on the ship. Rent free.”
The light comes back into his eyes. “So you’re going to settle here in San Francisco?” he asks.
It’s a reasonable deduction, but I’m not eager to explain our plans to a stranger. “That remains to be seen. But look, no hard feelings if you don’t want to do the work. I’ll just hire a different carpenter, and you can find somewhere else to stay.”
He shrugs. “I guess I’ll get started.”
“Stable for the horses is the highest priority,” I tell him. I’m nervous about leaving them tied up outside, especially Peony, who’s been stolen once already.
“That’s smart, ma’am,” Melancthon says. “Every horse thief in San Francisco will take notice of that pretty palomino of yours.”
“It’s settled, then. Can you show us to the cabins below? And the meeting room?”
“Cabins and galley. Yes, ma’am. If you’ll all follow me this way.”
As we crowd together toward a ladder, Becky leans over and whispers, “You handled that very well.”
“I did?”
“Once you started giving orders, he never once looked to any of the men for confirmation.” She squeezes my arm.
Jefferson comes up on the other side. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Huh?”
He nods at my right hand. “You’re the only one holding a gun, which kinda demands attention. And you tend to jab with it emphatically whenever you’re making a point.”
“I do not jab.”
“You jab.”
He points again. My arm is tensed and I’m thrusting the barrel of the gun at his feet while I talk.
“Huh. I never noticed that before.”
Melancthon has been a good caretaker, and the area below decks is spick-and-span. Our steps have a hollow sound that will take some getting used to. Thin wooden walls divide the lower deck into eight smaller cabins, most outfitted with cots or beds. It’s not the same as private rooms, but they’re semiprivate. Tom and Henry take one together. Becky takes a larger one for herself and the children. She invites me to join them, but there’s plenty of room, and Jasper, Jefferson, the Major, and I each take cabins for ourselves. Four empty cots make mine feel a little lonely, especially after we’ve all been piled on top of each other for days.
Henry sticks his head in the door. “This was a really good idea,” he says. “A perfect base of operations for going after Hardwick.”
I grin. “We are going to destroy him. Get everyone together in the galley—I’ll be there in a minute.”
I pick one of the cots and shove the saddlebags underneath it. The blanket from another cot becomes a wrap for Daddy’s rifle. I slide it underneath, beside the saddlebags. It’s not much in terms of worldly possessions.
But I have friends. And a purpose. And now a ship.
I find all the adults gathered in the galley, seated around a large wooden table that’s nailed to the floor. An oil lamp hangs from the ceiling, casting a warm glow. The seat at the head of the table is empty, so that’s the one I take.
Becky rocks the sleeping baby in her arms. “Where are Olive and Andrew?” I ask.
“They’re amusing themselves in the cabin for now. They’re glad to have a larger space.”
I waste no time. “It should be clear to everyone now that James Henry Hardwick is coming after us. He provided the money for my uncle’s scheme last fall.” I nod to Tom and Jefferson, who experienced worse in that ordeal than I did. “Since then, Hardwick has failed to live up to the terms of the contract we signed with him at Christmas.”
“But we can take that to court and make him enforce it,” Jasper says.
“Is that true, Tom?”
Tom shakes his head. “Right now, California barely has courts worthy of the name. Influence counts for more than the law. The courts do what Hardwick tells them, not the other way around.”
“And there’s the matter of Becky’s house,” I say.
Becky stops stroking the baby’s cheek and looks up.
“And the fact that Frank Dilley and those roughnecks held you and Henry at gunpoint in the Custom House,” I add.
The Major frowns at Becky. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that.”
Becky absently puts a hand on his arm, even as she bounces the baby on one knee. “It turned out fine,” she says. The Major stares down at the hand covering his arm, color rising in his cheeks.
“And then we come to the matter of Hampton,” I say.
I’m met with nods and murmurs of agreement from around the table.
“There’s one more thing,” Tom says, his face grave.
“Oh?”
“I can’t be the only one who has noticed,” he says, glancing around the table. “But Hardwick seems to have taken a peculiar interest in Lee.”
“It’s true,” Becky says.
“Lee, I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Jefferson adds.
I don’t like it much either. He gives my belly the same wormy feeling I always got around my uncle Hiram.
“What makes you all say that?” Jasper says.
“Well, he keeps showing up everywhere we go,” Jefferson says.
“He’s going to ask for more money for Glory’s charter, remember?” Henry says.
“He called Lee ‘intriguing,’” Becky says. “Which gave me a shiver, I don’t mind saying.
“He knows we’ve all got more gold than we ought, although . . .” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think he knows about your particular . . . blessing.”
“In any case, his fascination with Lee is . . . unnatural,” Tom says.
They’re all looking at each other, more than they’re looking at me. Finally, Jefferson clears his throat. “The thing is, Lee, there’s always going to be men like that in the world.”
“And your point is?”
“We can’t make that problem go away forever.”
“When you’re hungry, and you eat, do you expect your hunger to go away forever? When you’re sick, and you go to a doctor”—I point to Jasper—“do you expect to stay well forever? Of course not. Hardwick is the problem in front of us right now. We can’t solve the problem forever, but we can solve him. That’s what we’re going to do.”
“You aren’t planning to shoot Hardwick, are you?” Tom asks. “With your daddy’s rifle?”
“No!”
“Because that would be wrong—”
“Because that would be ineffective.”
“And also wrong,” says Jefferson.
“Yes, but it wouldn’t get the job done,” I clarify. “Jeff, you remember our teacher back in Dahlonega? Mr. Anders?”
Jefferson is leaning forward, fingers steepled. “Yeah.”
“What was that monster he told us about? The one where you cut off its head and it grows two more?”
“The hydra?” he answers, as all three of the college men blurt out, “The hydra!”
“That’s the one,” I say. “Hardwick is the head of the monster, but the body that feeds him is the money and the businesses that are making him rich right now. If he died tomorrow, a bunch of other men would just divvy up his businesses and his money, and they’d all go on doing the same thing. It’s not enough to cut the head off the monster. We have to destroy the body too. We’re not just going to bring down James Henry Hardwick, we’re going to ruin his empire and take every penny he owns. Who’s in?”
Silence. Faintly, a burst of distant laughter filters through the hull; probably from one of the nearby saloons.
Jasper spreads his large, capable hands on the table. “I hear what you’re saying, and I admire your intent. But I came to San Francisco to learn. And there’s so much to learn. Malnourishment, diseases, every kind of wound and injury. But my time is limited. A year from now, when this is a more settled place, those problems won’t be here, not in the same degree. I can get a lifetime of experience in the next year if I want it, and that’s what I want.”
“You’re already the best doctor I’ve ever known,” I tell him.
He grins. “And I’m going to get even better.”
“That makes perfect sense,” I say, even though I’m disappointed. “I wish you well. You’re welcome to stay aboard the ship, even if you’re not part of our plan.”
Jasper stands. “I’d like to maintain a cabin here, if you don’t mind, Lee.”
“Of course I don’t mind!”
“It’s just the doctor I’m working with has invited me to board with him on weekdays, because there’s no telling what hour of the day an emergency will come knocking. He calls it ‘a residency.’ My home will always be here, with you.” He glances toward Henry and Tom, his face a little apologetic. “But I think I’ll take him up on that. Spend most of my nights there, come back to the Charlotte on weekends.”
Henry and Tom exchange a glance, part resignation, part relief, and suddenly I understand. Henry and Tom have always been especially attached to each other, and Jasper is leaving them be, giving them space of their own.
I swallow hard and force myself to say, “That doctor is lucky to have you.”
“Now, this doesn’t mean I won’t help. Hampton is my friend, and we’ve been through a lot together, and I’ll do just about anything to get him back. So, if you think of something I can do, you let me know, understand?”
“Count on it.”
He rises from the table. Becky says, “You’ll come around often, won’t you, Jasper?”
“Of course!”
The Major shakes Jasper’s hand. Jefferson puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.
Henry crosses his arms and says emphatically, “See you soon.”
“See you soon,” Jasper echoes.
“See you soon,” Tom whispers.
With a final nod, Jasper leaves the room. I stare around the rest of the table. “Anybody else want to go? Now’s the time to do it.”
Nobody moves. The Major reaches down to rub the stump of his leg. “Just promise me there’s a chance to take down Frank Dilley too.”
“That’s definitely part of the plan,” I promise him.
“Then I’m in.”
Tom pushes his chair back from the table and rises. Before speaking, he straightens his collar and cuffs. “I think I need to go see a man about a job,” he says in a tight voice. “I’ll catch up with all of you later.”
I nod to him, not trusting my words enough to say anything.
“Tom . . . ,” Henry says.
Tom smiles the tiniest bit. “I’ll be back.”
When he’s gone, I lean forward. “All right then. Let’s get to work.”
Just below us, deep inside the ship, a hammer pounds on thick wood. A moment later comes the rasp of a saw.