The Clockmaker and the Pirate - EVERMORE BOOK 1

Chapter 4 -- North Atlantic Ocean, 13 July 1650

We return to the ship quickly and set sail, now with three new crew members onboard. Avi and K.O. help to raise the anchor while Mitch instructs Kirstin to keep an eye on Lindsey.

Mitch is behind the wheel, steering the ship out into the open blue ocean, looking blankly out into the waves.

I walk to him, and he jumps a bit when I speak. "So, where are these Alvarados, anyway? An island? A city?"

Mitch sighs in relief when he realizes that the voice behind him is only me. "That's just it. I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You sound like you've had lots of experience with these people before. How can you not know where they are?" I ask.

Mitch shakes his head. "They're complicated. They only let you know where they are when they want you to know. Before, they weren't so reliable to me. But hopefully they care about Lindsey enough to show us where they are," he explains. "Besides, maybe once I'm there they can point me in the direction of the Sapphire. I tried to ask them before, but they never showed themselves."

"Two birds with one stone," I point out.

Mitch exhales deeply. "Yup."

I look out into the ocean. The sun is beginning to set now, which coats the sea in a golden color, mixed with hues of oranges and blues and violets. The waves are calm now and their sounds are soothing, and I can't help but smile as I look out at the landscape.

"What are you smiling at?" Mitch asks, turning to me slightly and raising an eyebrow.

I gesture to the sunset. "Duh. I mean, just look at that. It's absolutely stunning. How can you not smile at that?"

Mitch looks at me, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. It seems like I'm just as hard to figure out to him as he was to me, though I've always considered myself quite simple to understand. I'm not strong, not weak. Not ugly, not gorgeous. Not smart, not stupid. Not quite an optimist, but not quite a pessimist, either. Just average. Average old Scott Hoying. What's so hard to understand about that?

Mitch turns away from me, returning his gaze to the sunset which he doesn't think it worthy of my grin. "You smile too much," he tells me.

"Maybe the problem is you don't smile enough," I reply without hesitation.

Mitch shakes his head, disregarding my statement. "If you saw the same exact sunset every single day for years and years, I assure you, it wouldn't make you smile either."

"Oh, no sunset is exactly the same," I tell him. "There's different colors and cloud coverage and buildings that it shines on. I could look at sunsets for a hundred years."

"How about... four hundred?" Mitch asks, smirking a bit.

"A million," I reply, my smile growing wider.

Mitch chuckles softly and shakes his head at me. "Oh, Scott Hoying. Whatever will I do with you?"

"Maybe...take me home?" I ask hopefully, wondering if now that he's warmed up to me a bit he'll rethink the deal that we'd made. It's a long shot, but it's still worth trying.

Mitch's face falls and his shoulders droop, and he doesn't say anything for a long while. "Sapphire first. Then home."

"Do you promise?" I ask.

"Sure, Blondie. I promise."

"Pinkie promise?" I say, holding out my pinkie and smiling at him jokingly.

Mitch looks at me with a raised eyebrow, then his gaze falls to my hand. I don't actually expect him to joke around with me, so I'm pleasantly surprised when he hesitantly reaches out and interlocks his smallest finger with mine. "Yeah. Pinkie promise."