* * * *

The next evening, Katherine arrived at the Harborside after closing. She felt weary from the day’s work, but happy to be back in the Harborside. It had been strange being away from it all day.

“Hello, the shop!” she cried as the bell over the door rang out its musical welcome. A shuffling sound came from the captain’s office, and as Katherine neared the doorway, she saw Captain Braddock hurriedly sweeping a number of papers into a file folder. The floorboard creaked under her weight, and the old man looked up suddenly, as if she had surprised him.

“Hello, Katherine,” he said, a bit distractedly, as he set a large ledger book on top of the folder. “How did yer second day go?”

“About as well as the first: tiring but no major upsets.”

“That’s good. Means yer gettin’ yer sea legs under you.”

“Shall I get a rag and start on the jars?” she asked, moving towards the counter where the rags were kept. Captain Braddock stood stiffly and started to limp after her.

“Yes, I think we might both work on the jars tonight. I’m in need of a break, and I want to enjoy your company while I have it.” He gave Katherine a weary smile as he picked up a rag from the pile on the shelf. “You start with the Anne. I know that’s yer favorite.”

“How did you know that? I’m sure I never mentioned it.”

Captain Braddock dropped his weariness for a moment and said with a twinkle in his eye, “A Braddock knows about these things, you see… Besides, she's my favorite, too.”

Katherine smiled as she took the dainty model ship down off its stand.

“Who made this model?” she asked, as she lightly brushed the rag over the delicate rigging.

“I think it was Captain Jeremiah’s youngest son, William. He made it when his father and the Anne both had to be retired. It happened all at once, you see. Captain Jeremiah nearly died of a fever on their last voyage. When he returned home, the doctor said his heart was damaged, and he couldn’t sail any more. The Anne was so dilapidated from all the sea voyages and storms, it was decided that she should be retired as well. They had two other ships by then, you see, and Captain Jeremiah’s two older sons had taken charge of those.”

“It must have broken his heart to give her up.” Katherine said, with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Yes, I think it nearly did. He was sick for some time—bedridden, you see. William, who ran the shop, spent his evenings with his father, talking to him and listening to his stories while carving pieces for this ship, never saying a word to his father about what he was making.

“Finally, when Captain Jeremiah was strong again and able to come to the shop, they had a bit of a party in his honor. The two older boys were back from their voyages, and the whole family gathered together. William gave a speech, saying how much he loved his father, how hard Captain Jeremiah had worked to make the Harborside what it was, and how he knew his father would miss the sea and his beloved ship, and presented him with this as a reminder that those days would always live on in his memories.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful!” Katherine exclaimed softly, slowly polishing the ship’s hull.

“He was like that: always knew what to say and how best to say it.”

Katherine set the model back on its stand and picked up a jar. “What did Captain Jeremiah do, once he couldn’t go to sea anymore?”

“He just poured himself into the running of this place.”

“Just like you.” Katherine said brightly.

Captain Braddock gave a heavy sigh, and muttered a barely audible, “Much good that’s doin’.”

Katherine studied the captain as he bent over the jar he was dusting. He looked so sad and old tonight, and she wondered if she should ask him what was wrong. He looked up and caught her gaze for a moment, then straightened and set his jar on the shelf. He glanced at the clock and said hurriedly,

“Now, it’s time for you to be gettin’ back. Don’t want to wear you out. You’ve got a long haul ahead of you.” Katherine set her rag on the counter and reached for her jacket.

Captain Braddock’s eyes widened suddenly and he exclaimed, “I nearly forgot. I’ve an order for you to drop in the mail on yer way back, if you don’t mind.” He hurried off and Katherine heard the storeroom door open.

While she waited for his return, she wandered into the office. Catching a glimpse of the folder the captain had so hurriedly put away, she wondered if that might be what had made him so sad. Walking softly to his desk, she looked over at the open door. She could hear him rummaging still, and knew she had enough time just for a peek. Hovering near the table, she fought with herself. It was really none of her business…but oh, how she wanted to know what was in that folder!

Finally, she gave in. Lifting the ledger and the top flap of the file folder, she just had time to catch a glimpse of the paper on top of the stack before she heard the captain’s heavy tread on the stairs. It was enough. With heart pounding, she closed the folder and slipped the ledger back on top. Reeling from what she had just seen, she tried to smile cheerfully at the captain as if nothing were wrong.

He gave her an odd look as he handed her the package. “Yer sure you don’t mind? I could probably drop it by in the morning before I open, if it’s any help to you.”

Katherine took the package with a hurried, “Oh, no. I don’t mind at all. I’m heading right by there anyway. Goodnight, Captain!”

She rushed away, leaving a bewildered Captain Braddock to wonder what had gotten into the girl.

Katherine stopped just outside the door to collect her thoughts before going home. As she walked past the large shop window, she peeked in and saw the captain sit down at the desk and open the folder again, looking older and sadder than she had ever seen.

Oh, poor Captain Braddock! she thought, then hurried on to drop the order by the post office and get home to finish the last of the washing up before bed.

27 The Harborside in Danger

Katherine woke the next morning with her mind all awhirl. She rushed through her preparations for the day, trying not to let her thoughts run away with her.

“Why, Katherine, what’s the matter?” asked Mr. James as she opened the door to let him in.

“I’m not sure… that is, I’m not sure if I can tell you—that is, if it would be right to tell you. I don’t even know what it means yet.”

Mr. James pulled out a chair for her and took a seat opposite. “Just tell me whatever you think appropriate that will help relieve your mind—off the record, of course.”

“Of course.” Katherine said, taking a moment to collect the thoughts that had run circles around her mind since the night before.

“It’s about the captain.” She began, then stopped. “You see, I came across…no, that’s not exactly true. I saw something—a paper—on the captain’s desk. He had hidden it away quickly when I came in, but he looked so sad and grave afterwards, that I wanted to know what was wrong.” She blushed, then took a breath, forcing herself to make a full confession. “So I sneaked a look at the papers on his desk while he was out of the room.”

Her voice dropped away into silence, and she hung her head while she said these last words. Her “nosing around” seemed so much worse when stated out loud.

Mr. James leaned forward. “And you think from what you saw that there is some reason for concern?”

“Yes.” Katherine said, simply, struggling to know how to describe her fear without betraying the captain’s trust even further by repeating details she had no right to know. “I’m not exactly sure what the paper means, but if it means anything like it seems to, I fear that the captain—that the Harborside itself—is in great danger, and I…” tears brimmed in Katherine’s eyes. “I just don’t know what to do to help.”

“That is a dilemma.” Said Mr. James soberly, reaching across the table to offer Katherine his napkin as two big tears escaped from her sorrowful blue eyes. “I won’t try to pry. I agree with you that it would not be right to tell others what you saw on a paper the captain didn’t want you to see, but I feel I should make certain: No one is in physical danger?”

“No.”

“And there’s nothing criminal involved?”

“Of course not.” Katherine looked up in indignation.

“Well then,” the reporter leaned back in his chair and studied her tearful face. “The only other question I have is, have you prayed and asked God what He wants you to do about it?”