Happily Ever After Read Online Free PDF

his arm. “You’ll need to check the sails,”
he instructed Kell. “I have no idea what to look for myself and we’re behind
schedule.”
    “Very well.” Reluctantly, Kell gave up his gossip,
dragging one of the folded bundles aside to begin inspecting it. In the
meantime, Jack hauled the remaining bundles aboard, hoping the cloth and
rigging were all in order. He’d have to trust Kell’s judgment in that because
he didn’t know the first thing about sailing. That he was captain of this mass
of tar and lumber didn’t account for a damned thing. He’d merely bought the old
ship; the title fell to him by default.
    The Miss Deed had once been christened The
Adventurer. It had been decommissioned at least fifty years earlier, and sat
rotting in the shallows off the New England coast until Jack happened upon it.
It had taken some coaxing on his part for the owner to agree to part with it,
because the vessel apparently held some sort of quasi-historic value. But the
rotting ship was barely worth what he’d paid for it. It had even escaped the
Civil War draft, and Jack could, on closer inspection, see why. He’d had to
reach deep into his pockets to complete the repairs necessary just to get the
bugger seaworthy, and it was on the verge of becoming a very expensive
dinosaur.
    Kell cast him a sober glance. Giving up on a knot
on the binding around the sails, he pulled out his pocket knife and severed the
twine with a single slice.
    Jack winced and had to restrain himself from
cautioning him to take care with the knife. There wasn’t money enough to
replace the sails. They were skidding by as it was.
    Kell returned the knife to his pocket and met
Jack’s gaze. “You realize... it doesn’t matter what you find down there, they
won’t go for it no matter how you present it.”
    They were the powers-that-be, those who decided which anthropological discoveries
were worthy of academic mention and which were simply hogwash. Jack had already
had one go-round with them, and had been raked over the coals, rejected, and
dismissed, all in the blink of an eye. His findings just hadn’t fit in with the
blueprint they were busy creating.
    “I’m not going down there with an agenda,” he
assured Kell. “I could give a damn if what I come across proves or disproves my
original findings. I wouldn’t be any better than the rest of ’em if I did,
would I?”
    “Maybe.”
    “I’m going down there to do my job, because it
means something to me. Period.”
    Kell began counting bundles. “Well, you’re a
better man than I am, Jack, because I am going down there with an blasted
agenda.” He stopped and tuned to face Jack, hands at his hips. “Personally I’d
like nothing better than to find something to rub their damned elitist noses
into. Even if they don’t come about to our way of thought, I’d like to see them
squirm just a wee bit. Wouldn’t you? Admit it,” he demanded and stood there grinning,
egging Jack on.
    If the matter weren’t so close to his heart, Jack
might have laughed.
    “You would, wouldn’t you?”
    Jack declined to answer. He couldn’t afford to
make this a personal vendetta, not for his own sake, not for the sake of his
studies.
    “They should have at least given you an ear,” Kell
persisted.
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    But the truth was that Jack didn’t like it any
better than Kell did that they had dismissed him so easily. He’d worked damned
hard, and it grated on his nerves that they would disperse grants so easily to
a man like Harlan H. Penn III, who liked his image far better than he did his
work—only because of who he chose to marry.
    In fact, Jack would be surprised as hell to find
dirt under Penn’s nails—the pantywaist! He had no idea what the man was
doing down in South America all this time—drinking mint juleps probably,
and sitting on his duff!
    “They should’ve given you the grant,” Kell said
harshly, and returned to counting bundles. Jack wondered how transparent