Historical Fiction Finalist:The 2016 Awards from AwardsForStories.
In 1863 on the tiny island of Key West, Yankee spy Aaron Matthews must find and eliminate a deadly Rebel saboteur whom he fears just may be the woman he loves.
Our story thus far: Richard Thibodeaux and three friends have stowed away on an English ship, hoping to escape Key West and join the Confederate army. Richard's younger sibling, Joe, wearing Richard's clothes, is steering their father's ship as they race to salvage a merchant ship that has run aground. Joe's long hair has given away her identity to the crew, but hopefully no one else has noticed.
In this chapter: A spy arrives on the island by unusual means.
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Pictured above: Caroline Lowe's house in Key West. You can see the widow's walk on the roof where Caroline flew her Rebel flag. The house still stands but has been converted to commercial use.
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Stepney Austin lurched forward and opened his mouth, only to find Cataline Simmons's hand clapped across his face. Cataline gestured with a sidewise tilt of his head to the schooner across the harbor—the one flying the English flag—then glared disapproval at Joe and the errant hat.
Joe grabbed the hat, stuffed the telltale curls into it, and replaced it on her head.
Thibodeaux still did not look around. "Good morning, Richard. So good of you to join us. Now get aloft and find me that wreck."
"Aye, sir!" said Joe and climbed for the top of the mast. The other crewmen tackled their duties with renewed relish. Cataline and Stepney exchanged a look. The wrecking fleet departed, leaving behind the English schooner, with four young stow-aways on board, across the harbor.
...
On Pelican Shoal, near the edge of the Gulf Stream's warm current, the St. Gertrude, a 200-foot merchantman, sat at an odd angle, jarring, creaking, and shuddering. Waves whapped her sides and wind jangled her rigging. She had wedged her keel firmly aground. A dozen anxious crewmen lined the St. Gertrude's rail, watching the Lady Alyce approach, trailed by other wrecking sloops—though none within 300 yards of her.
It appeared that a young boy in floppy hat and baggy clothes stood at the helm of the Lady Alyce. The white-bearded, red-coated captain was an imposing figure as he stepped into the bow and hailed the grounded merchantman. "Ahoy, St. Gertrude!"
Aaron Matthews, a tall, well-built man in a brocade jacket, returned a lusty shout from the bridge of the merchantman. "Ahoy, yourself! Can we assist you?"
Thibodeaux smiled at the younger man's audacity. "Could you stand to lighten your load a bit?"
"Have you come to rob me, then?" replied Matthews.
"Naw! Naw, no need for that. We'll just bide here 'til the next tide breaks you up and take what's left. Or we could pull you off, see you safe into Key West, and let the admiralty court decide who gets what."
