Escape
Landon strode across the deck toward the small group of crewmen gathered by the main mast. The fog still hung about the ship like a sodden, gray blanket, muffling the sighs of the sea and the voices of the crew. The fog had kept them from moving the ship closer to Harbour Town’s docks. Too risky to navigate.
It helped to have the scarf; it restrained her curly cropped hair. The moisture in the air would have made it even more unruly. The sailors tied scarves around their heads much like Ruth, the plantation cook, had done at Twin Pines. Depending on the head, it either kept hair out of the way, or scalps from burning under the early summer sun. She’d had done her best to imitate the style. However, as comfortable as her clothes were, she still longed to enjoy other womanly pursuit
