Confessions of a Pirate's Heart

Chapter One

Scarlett felt like a ship caught in irons. The thoughts weighing upon her mind were sudden and frequent and often she found herself facing them head-on like strong winds from a tumultuous storm. She was stuck and motionless, unsure of which direction to take to get the wind under her sails again. No matter what, it wasn't going to be easy.

After she had arrived home, safely returned at the hands of Captain Alexander Jones, the days grew quickly into months. It surprised Scarlett how easily she was able to return to her normal routine but settling back in to her home was a different story.

Every morning, she woke early, rushing to kindle a fire in the hearth to warm the chilled walls of the Hamilton cottage. As the rest of the household emerged from their bedrooms as well, Scarlett and her mother, Catherine, prepared a quick, though hearty breakfast to sustain them throughout the day. Afterwards, bundling herself in her cloak and wrapping a scarf around her head, Scarlett stepped outside to brave the harsh, grey weather of the English coast. She scurried down the cliff side to follow after her father, George, and her brother, William, who had set off earlier and made their way into town. She trekked through the marketplace that resided just above the harbor until she reached her father's bakery. She stepped inside, always taking a moment to admire the freshly baked goods just removed from the brick oven in the corner of the room.

“There you are, dear,” George said. “Aren't they a delicious batch today?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied with a smirk, realizing her father asked the same question every day. But as she breathed in the sour aroma of the bread, she couldn't help but agree. It was a scent she had missed dearly during her adventures with the Captain and in that moment, she was thankful to be in its welcoming presence once again.

“It's a blustery day, isn't it?” George added. “I'm afraid I have many errands to send you on today so you better hurry to beat the rain. Here is the list I made and here are the goods I just gathered to deliver.” He placed a basket on her arm and handed her the list.

“Thank you, Father. See you this evening.” She waved to her brother, who emerged briefly to bid her farewell as he dusted the flour from his hands. Then she glanced at the first address on her list and set off on her way.

She spent the rest of her day, as she often would, meandering through the rough cobblestone streets and alleyways. She stopped to visit with the townsfolk she had known her whole life, answering the many questions they posed about each member of her family and how they were doing that day. Some would even dare to inquire--ever so bluntly--about her absence several months earlier and peer at her with a concerned, though suspicious gaze. Scarlett hated that look, carefully skirting around the topic before taking her leave. She didn't know how to respond or if she even wanted to. The problem was she hadn't even told her family the whole story, let alone someone who had no right to meddle in her affairs. Once again, she felt the weight of her thoughts upon this remembrance.

Once her basket was empty, she made her return home, meeting Joseph along the way with a couple of thin books in his arms. As there was limited access to education in their town, he often borrowed books from a man who kept a humble collection. However, home duties came first and they helped their mother with tending to the garden for a while before entering the house to ponder over Joseph's literature together. Scarlett was the only one in the household with the patience to find an understanding in the book's poetic musings and thus explain the story to Joseph. They lost themselves in the stories either until Joseph had read correctly through the whole chapter or until the day had grown so dark they could barely read by candlelight. By this time, George and William would be returning from the bakery and supper needed to be prepared. Scarlett assisted her mother with chopping and cooking the freshly picked vegetables, kneading the dough and setting the table for five.