Welcome to the Caribbean: Sandy beaches, sunny weather... and vicious pirates Fulfilling a promise from their last adventure together, Sam Foster travels from 2006 back to nineteenth-century Oregon to visit his spunky friend, Meg Clayton. This time, though, Meg gets to choose where they will visit next, and she already has a place in mind: Kingston, Jamaica, in 1717. The Clayton family farm in Oregon is in danger of being lost, and Meg seeks a priceless family heirloom to save it. That means traveling back to Jamaica to retrieve the treasure before it can disappear ... even if the area in question is crawling with cutthroat pirates. The two time travelers venture to this dangerous spot with the best laid plans ... only to find them going woefully wrong from the start. Separated almost from the first, they are taken aboard different ships and faced with a litany of problems the history books never mentioned. Neither is prepared for the sunburn, seasickness, and squalor they experience, and their goal quickly shifts from finding Meg's heirloom to staying alive, reuniting-and returning home. Will Sam and Meg's change of course help them return to the safety of their own time periods, or will they be marooned in the eighteenth century, left to live the rest of their lives with-or die at the hands of-a band of cold-blooded pirates?

Partners in Time #5: A Change of Course

By Kristen Sheley

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Kristen Sheley
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-6657-4

Chapter One

Sam

Muddy water sloshed over the toes of my boots and soaked the cuffs of my pants as my feet struck the earth. Then the rain hit me, coolly streaking my cheeks and plopping down on the shoulders of my overcoat. I turned around, fumbling to button my coat but not crush what I held in one hand. I saw no witnesses to my sudden appearance near the Clayton barn and cabin, neither more than one hundred yards away.

I pulled the brimmed hat low and bent my head down, both to keep the rain out of my eyes and to watch where my feet went so I wouldn't slip in the mud. At least when I'd left my home it hadn't been raining ... but it was the middle of February in Oregon. I shouldn't have been very surprised by the damp conditions.

As I veered toward the buildings, I mentally rehashed my plan for just what I was going to do next. February 14, 1851 was a Friday; I'd looked that up before I left. This implied that Meg's family would be operating on a weekday schedule. I hoped this would mean that her younger brothers and sisters would be in school and her dad would be working away from the house, but I had no idea. I wished I had some way to contact her wherever she was, so she could meet me somewhere private, but that sort of technology would be insanely out of place a hundred and fifty-five years in the past.

I hoped I wasn't stopping by at a bad time. If that was the case, maybe the small gift I had for her would help. In my head, I recited the words that I planned to say when I found her. "I don't know if you celebrate Valentine's Day yet, but we do in 2006 ... and I thought you might like these roses because it's traditional to give flowers to pretty girls on the holiday. Oh, and I was hoping you might want to go somewhere ... your choice, remember? I owe you."

I grimaced at the mental dialogue, shaking my head a little. If it sounded that awkward in my head, how bad would it be when I actually said it out loud? How would Meg take it?

"What the hell are you doing here, Foster?" I asked myself under my breath. "This is nuts." I glanced at the small bouquet of lavender roses and baby's breath that I'd picked up at the grocery store on the way home from school. It looked like something a girl would like, and the color of the roses was sort of unusual. I'd carefully removed the plastic that had come with the bouquet and used a fabric ribbon to keep the stems together. I hoped Meg wouldn't laugh at the sight of it. A card might've been better, but at least flowers were biodegradable.

Even though the air around me was chilly, I was sweating a little from nerves by the time I reached the cabin. When I rounded the front of the building, I found a fully-saddled horse standing on the muddy road. The animal nickered softly as I approached it.

"Where'd you come from?" I asked softly.

The front door of the cabin was closed, and the windows were fogged up, totally impossible to see through. I took a deep breath and started walking toward the cabin, unsure how to avoid simply knocking on the door and asking for Meg.

I was only three steps from my destination when I heard something rattle and the door was suddenly yanked open. Instinctively, I hopped off the path and slid close to the cabin's wall, out of immediate sight from whoever was about to step outside. Although I was more or less prepared to face Meg's family, I was used to avoiding them at all costs.

"I understand you'll need time to think it over, Mr. Clayton," I heard a man say as he stepped outside, putting on his hat. I held still, but he didn't glance my way. "However, I think it's a generous offer. You can buy a smaller plot of land and build a new home for your family there."

"Be that as it may, I prefer to remain here," said another man in the cabin. He had dark hair and a mustache, but that was about all I could see with the rain and the gloomy light of a winter afternoon. He had to be Meg's father. "I have until the end of the month to make good on the note, and a lot may change in a fortnight."

The guy standing outside shook his head. Like Clayton, he had a mustache, but the facial hair was bigger, more of an elaborate handlebar thing. He looked like he was around thirty or so, but age was hard to tell with people in the past. Everyone seemed to look a lot older much sooner than they did in my time. "Unless you plan on mining for gold, I see no way of saving your land." His tone changed slightly, becoming confessional. "I'm trying to help you out. No one else will give you half the sum I will."

"Maybe so, but I'm not interested," Clayton said from the doorway. "Good afternoon, Mr. Thornburg."

"Let me know if you change your mind," Thornburg said, not willing to let the subject drop. He tipped his hat before turning around.

The door slammed shut as Thornburg strolled to his horse. I stayed frozen where I was, not wanting to snag his attention before he left. Fortunately, the guy seemed to be eager to leave; he mounted his horse and started off without a look back. Only when he was out of sight did I remember to breathe again.

Whatever nerve I'd had to knock on the door and ask to talk to Meg was rapidly fading. Clearly, her father was home and would probably answer the door. He would ask questions about who I was and where I had come from, and I didn't know if I could give him, or anyone else in Meg's family, satisfactory explanations. Meg's sister, Sarah, had already seen us leave once, and Meg had mentioned it took a while before her sister had let the subject go.

"C'mon, there has to be a way to do this," I whispered under my breath. I turned away from the door and walked quickly to the corner of the cabin. I took a cautious look around the roughly cut ends of the logs and saw a wall that had only one window, which was obscured with condensation. I wasted no time in rounding the corner to relative privacy. The only way I could think to avoid direct interaction with Meg's family was to peek in through the windows until I spotted Meg, and then do something to get her attention. With the windows all steamed up, though, that would be a little challenging.

As I wracked my brain to come up with a better idea, I heard the front door open again. Footsteps slogged through the mud toward my exposed position next to the wall. I looked around frantically for a new place to hide, but I was out in the open; no bushes or trees were close enough for me to reach in a few seconds. My eyes had just registered this when a short, petite figure came into view and stopped abruptly at the sight of me.

I looked the person over quickly, taking in the details. The long brown dress that fell to the ankles. The hooded cloak clutched around the shoulders. The large hazel eyes blinking in surprise, set in a pale, freckled face. As she shifted her weight, the hood fell back, revealing a fluffy, auburn cloud of hair pinned up in a frizzy knot.

I grinned, relieved. "Meg, you scared the crap out of me!"

"Sam," Meg said after a pause, squinting at me through the raindrops. "Did you just arrive right there?"

"No, I hiked in."

"Oh." Meg frowned faintly, preoccupied. It wasn't exactly the kind of greeting I had expected after a separation of almost two months. Where was the smile? Couldn't I get a hug?

Instead of celebrating, Meg was blandly businesslike. "Here, come with me before anyone...