Chapter 11
Harriet felt she was in the way of the men working on deck the next morning. She’d helped Big Jim milk the goats and stake them out on a patch of grass near the beach, and then looked for something useful to do. She eyed the men climbing the rigging, standing on the footropes, removing the shredded mainsail.
Jack waved for her to come up. With her gaze, she traced the path he’d taken to get to his precarious perch, across ropes that hung over the water. She’d have to swing over the railing to climb up. To work beside him, she would have to stand on a rope barely thicker than her thumb, suspended eighty feet above the tilted deck and shallow water below. The bottom of her stomach dropped out and her heart skipped three beats. Breakfast threatened to make a reappearance.
She sh
