Way of the Willamette Ch. 01

As Daniel held her nightdress in his hands, Juliana released the pins and ribbon holding her hair in place, letting her luxurious tresses fall below her bare shoulders. When she turned to face him, his gaze fell lower, taking in her pert breasts, her slim waist, then lower still until his eyebrows rose and he gasped, 'Good god woman, what have you done with your curly pubes? Why, you are as smooth as a babe down there!'

Juliana immediately looked away and used her hand to cover her modesty, unable to meet his questioning stare. The color rose in her cheeks as she giggled nervously and stammered, 'Well, when I was visiting with Sarah, she was telling me of the customs of Turkish women and explained how she preferred to keep herself in that manner and, and then I'm not really sure how... but the one thing led to another.'

'You have been busy today then, haven't you, you naughty girl,' he said with a deep, hearty laugh. 'Be careful with Sarah though, I have heard she fancies women almost as much as she does swains.'

'Oh yes, that she does Daniel! As I surely found out this morning, when, when she shaved me...'

Afterwards, lying content and spent in his arms Juliana wondered how a father and his son could be so similar and yet so unlike each other. Physically, they were almost spitting images of each other, both stalwart, well made men but where Trevor had been almost rough and somewhat rushed in his love making; Daniel was most attentive, taking time to rouse her passions to a high pitch before seeking release in his own pleasure.

However, this time was different for Juliana for as she was slowly ascending her own peak, it was James Cooper she found herself thinking of. Had he gone to the dance and if he did, who did he take with him? It was almost a week since she came down from her horse to fall sobbing into his waiting arms. Then, when she had calmed enough to look up at him, she was certain she seen her own feelings mirrored in the depths of his grey eyes. Damn, she thought as the first tingling wave began to wash over her, damn those naughty knickers! If only he had kissed her and laid down with her, in the flower filled meadow among the tall firs.

***

'Get up men, get up!'

Trevor struggled to sit up in the gloom of the forecastle, only to find his wrists and ankles bound together behind him. Falling back in dismay, he sensed the floor shifting beneath him, slowly lifting and tilting one way, then tipping to slowly fall in the opposite direction. As he felt the sickening blackness wash over him once more, he wondered that he could feel so ill from the whisky alone.

'Bloody hell! What goes here?' he gasped out loud, choking on the cold seawater being poured over his head.

'You've slept long enough mate but now there's work to be done and a paper to be signed, if you knows what is best for you!'

'Who the devil are you, and where have you taken me?'

'You're on the sailing ship Largo, son, and will be until we reach San Francisco with our cargo of wheat. I'm the Bucko on this old bark and we need all the crew we can get, so you will be doing your fair share of the work unless you thinks you are a better man than I am,' he said with a hearty chuckle as he took hold of Trevor's hair with his thick, meaty hand and roughly jerked his head up.

'You bastard, the hell with you!' Trevor shouted, only to have his face slammed into the hard floor. When the first mate pulled his head up again, Trevor's nose was bleeding heavily.

'You don't know who you are dealing with, you'll pay for this!'

'I know exactly who you are, Trevor McKay. Now listen well son, I'm going to untie your legs and take you on deck so you can see for yourself what a bind you are in...'

Feeling sick and still bleeding, Trevor staggered out of the forecastle and onto the deck. Making his way unsteadily past a raised hatch and leaning onto the port gunwale to stop from falling, he tried to focus on the sight before him. They were least a mile or two from shore and although he was quite dizzy, he could clearly see the small town of Astoria situated near the mouth of the Columbia River. As he watched the shoreline slowly receding beyond the pitched waves, he realized with a sinking heart that it was already too far away for him to swim to.

Draping his massive, tattooed arm around Trevor's shoulder, the first mate moved in close enough for Trevor to feel his rum laden breath on his neck as he grinned at him and said, 'The water's cold enough but feel free to have a bath, if you think you can jump ship and make it ashore... '

Trevor tried to shake himself free of his heavy grasp, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of his predicament while the Bucko went on, 'While you was a napping we left the dock at Portland, then came down the Columbia. Now the steamboat Tualatin has just towed us around the sandbar at the rivers mouth, and that means the Largo's to be cut loose soon and we'll be raising sail, so I would be mighty obliged if you could sign your name to the agreement...'

'What agreement?'

'Why, the one all sailors sign of course. It guarantees your passage to San Francisco and back to Portland in return for your service, for which you will be paid twenty-five dollars a month. Now, if you don't feel that is quite enough, you could always ask Danny McKay for a share of the sixty dollars paid to him for finding you...'

'My father crimped me?!'

'Aye, that he did son, and for your own good too! Had enough of your drinking, laying about and womanizing. Got the bartender at Lasso's Saloon to slip you and a few of your mates a mickey while you was a celebrating the Independence holiday. Said a stint of hard labour on board a sailing ship would be the best thing for you, he did. By God, there's not a better crimp on the west coast than Dapper Dan!'

to be continued...