Chapter One

 August 1718
 
    The Redemption's position, as best as he could reckon it, needed to be noted in the log before the situation grew worse.  The furious sea that tossed the ship fairly threw him through the cabin door.  He had to climb his way to the cabinet to retrieve the log and his ink well.  He could just barely make out the noise of the crew's efforts to secure cannon and cargo over the howl of the wind.  The storm they had hoped to outrun had become a hurricane.  They were half a day from safe harbor and wholly at the mercy of God Himself, for only the Hand of the Almighty would be able to save them.
    Just as the captain managed to pin himself against the desk, the cabin door flew open again.  He looked up to see his first mate fall through as he had moments before.
    The man righted himself as best as he could and reported, "Cap'n, we've tied everything back down and dropped the anchor, but Providence alone knows whether it will hold, sir."
    "Then we've done all we can, Quintor.  Pray that its enough," Captain Lodge said gravely.
    He opened the log and noted their position and added the First Mate's report.
    With a sigh he scrawled, "We place the lives of the crew and the fate of the ship into the Hands of God, may He have mercy on our souls.  But I fear I will never reach the port of my Mary Anne."
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    The winds that had been welcome to cool the house hours before had picked up and had begun to howl.  Elena struggled to pull the shutters closed.  She wished above all else not to wake the frail woman who had become like a sister to her.  As soon as she succeeded in shutting out the wind, she could hear her friend muttering to herself.  Elena crossed to the bed.  Mary Anne's fever had spiked again, and she was looking for someone in her delirium.  Elena knelt by the bedside and crossed herself.  She prayed the Holy Father would heal Mary Anne and let her find the man she continually cried for in her time of need.  Kissing Mary's wet and fevered brow, she left the room to continue securing the house against the oncoming storm.  She turned to close the door and heard Mary Anne whisper, "Oh, Thomas, you've finally come."
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August 2004
    Torrents of rain beat against the exterior of the house.  The wind picked up and howled fiercely.  But while the more than typical summer storm raged outside, April happily helped her mother, Carol, cull though the dusty boxes in her Grandmother's attic.  Her Grandmother had led an amazing life and there was truly no place April would rather be than surrounded by the trappings of that life.
    She chuckled to herself a bit as the thought crossed her mind that her grandmother's collections were a study of modern day anthropology.  From a very young age, April had been fascinated by the people around her and the things they created.  As she got older she often joked that she had no life because she spent it studying the lives of others.  Carol could never quite grasp April's passions, but so long as she got a college degree and a good stable job, she would not utter criticism about April's romantic nature.
    At the moment, it was this very romanticism that was getting April through the chore of helping her mother clean out her grandmother's attic.  Grandma Irene had been laid to rest almost a month ago.  Carol had come to the house several times over the last couple of weeks with intentions of cleaning up and packing up, but always found herself wandering the house in a numbed daze.  It wasn't until April offered to take some vacation time and come help her, that Carol finally found the resolve to start the job.  
    Irene had been a bit of a gypsy and loved collecting mementos of her wide and varied life.  The whole house was full of paintings, drawings, photos, musical instruments, and journals.  If it was creative or exciting, Irene had tried it.  She and Grandpop had spent their lives hopping from place to place in search of new wonders and adventures.  From the time Carol had been born, she was brought along to experience it all, sometimes kicking and screaming.  April couldn't help but laugh at some of the old photos of her mom as a kid sitting in the middle of an amazing vista, scowling.  
    But that life had come to a peaceful and fulfilled end.  Now it was up to Carol and April to sort the treasure from the trash.  Unfortunately, there were mountains of that to deal with.  
    "I had no idea Grandma Irene had all this stuff," April coughed as she rummaged around.
    "Its no surprise that she had it, dear.  What's surprising is how much of it is worthless junk," Carol moaned.
    April just shook her head, knowing that they would be debating all day over what was junk and what was not.  She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out an elastic band to get her long hair out of her way.  She looked around and spotted a dusty, clouded full length mirror.  As she pulled her dark red hair back and secured it, she noticed that she did indeed look a lot like Carol.  She had the same hazel eyes with flashes of green.  The mouth was the same bow like shape, although with none of the fashionable fullness.  Even down to the same skin tones she looked very much like a youthful version of her mother.  But youth could not fully account for the vitality.  April also possessed a lot of her Grandmother's spark and fire.  The full bright smile that lit her face was definitely Irene's.  And the taller, fuller figure was more like her grandmother as well.  Funny how she'd never noticed that the little beauty mark on her jaw was very much like Irene's.  
    "April, are you going to stare at your grandmother's vanity mirror all day, or are you going to be helpful?"
    "Sorry, Mom.  I was just a little amazed after looking at all those old pictures of Grandma, how much I do look like her."
    "I've always thought I could see some of her in you," Carol sighed.  
    So many of the mixed emotions that Irene evoked in her were often stirred up by her daughter.  April could become so easily caught up in the excitement of discovery that she could become completely carried away by it.  Over the years Carol had worked hard to drum into April a notion of balance.  Sure it was fun and exciting to try new things, but it was important to have security and stability in life, too.  Something Carol never really felt she had until she married and had a life of her own.  She loved her parents dearly,  but the life they chose did not suit her in the least.  Having to go through all the reminders of that life was wearing on Carol in a way that April could not understand.  For Carol there were far too many memories of nights on the road and meals in run down road houses.  There was nothing at all romantic about any of it.
    As Carol continued to sort through her emotions, April began in earnest to sort through the stuff.  Sure, there were boxes and boxes of junk, but there were gems to discover as well.  And to a former Anthropology Major, the photo albums, old letters, and vintage clothes were precious treasures.
    "Oh, look, Mom!  Isn't this the dress Grandma wore in that picture of her and Grandpop?  You know, the one of him in his uniform," April exclaimed as she carefully pulled the dress from a box.
    "It certainly looks like it.  Of all the things she hung onto, that one at least makes sense," Carol replied, looking up from a stack of dusty books.
    "Why's that?"
    "That was her wedding dress.  If you could call it that.  It was the dress she was wearing when she and Grandpop went to the courthouse and got married, anyway."
    "I always wondered why there wasn't an album full of wedding pictures.  They certainly photographed everything else."
    "I don't thing your Grandmother was the 'big wedding' type anyway.  But Grandpop was about to ship off for Europe during World War II, and if they wanted to get married it had to be quick.  From what I understand her family didn't approve much of the whole thing, either."
    "Oh, that would be why she didn't talk about it much, then."
    "Well, that and I think that those years without him were very sad for her.  She was always much happier to talk about all the time they spent together."
    "So was that photo taken of them on their wedding day?"
    "I think so . . . " Carol trailed off as she stuffed the contents of a water damaged box into a huge trash sack.  "My God, did she keep everything?  Even after we get rid of the totally meaningless trash, there's still more than I'll ever know what to do with," she released an exasperated sigh.
    They kept working like this for most of that rainy day.  April would stop to ask questions about this or that and put it in the pile to keep and Carol would continue to grumble and put everything in the pile to get rid of.  The best treasure of all wasn't uncovered until late in the afternoon, long after the storm had blown itself out.
    "Oh, wow, what's this?" April whispered in reverent excitement.
    In a dark corner, she had discovered a little wooden chest.  She brought it out into the sunlight in the middle of the room. 
    "I don't think I've ever seen that before," muttered Carol.
    The chest was old, far older than anything else in Grandma Irene's attic.  April handled it gingerly as the set it down on a table they had been sorting clothes on.  As she took a closer look at the box, April saw some markings above the lock.
    "Look here," April said as she pulled her mother closer.  "There's something carved into the top here."
    Carol dusted off the top of the chest with the old t-shirt she had in her hand.
    "Hhmmmmm . . . Oh, ok . . . some of this is lettering.  Josiah Smith . . . Charles Towne . . . I think that says Carolina Colony."
    "Are you sure you read that right," Carol asked, trying to discern any letters at all.
    "Here, look for yourself," April said as she backed up for Carol to get a closer look.
    "Oh, I see it now, Josiah Smith."
    "What is this," April asked in awe.
    "I haven't the slightest idea.  Knowing your grandmother it could be anything or it could be nothing at all."
    "It's not nothing, Mom.  Charles Towne, Carolina Colony was the first settlement in the Carolinas.  It grew into Charleston, South Carolina.  But if this little chest is really that old . . ." April mind spun at the possibilities.  There are some collectors that would do anything for an authentic handcrafted piece from that period in Charleston history, no matter what is was or what it might or might not contain.
    "Why would Grandma have something from old Charleston?  I didn't think they spent any time traveling in the southeast."
    "For the most part they didn't.  They loved the mountains and the Pacific coast far better than the east coast.  She only moved out here to Boca Raton because you were at the University of Miami."
    "So why this piece from Charleston?"
    "I don't know, other than she was born there and her family goes way back there."
    "Wait a minute, I thought she and Grandpop were from Houston."
    "Grandpop was from Houston.  She spent the years that he was at sea in Houston with his family."
    "And worked in the war time factories there," April recalled.
    "I guess it was the closest thing to being with him for her, to be near his family and working on the ships that he was sailing around Europe in."
    "I had no idea she was from Charleston."
    "Well, like I said, her family didn't approve of the marriage to your Grandpop, particularly her mother.  But she was always strong headed and did what she wanted."
    "Fascinating . . . When we're through here, do you mind if I take this with me?  I still have some friends in the University faculty that would love to have a look at this."
    "So long as you help me finish this job, its fine with me."