True Heart by Arnette Lamb

Lottie had declared the Highland Dream, as the ship had been called then, their personal water conveyance.
    Cameron had replied by telling Lottie to find some other minion to do her bidding. He’d taken Virginia’s hand and announced to Lottie that he was going sailing.
    He’d stood up to Lottie as no one else.
    â€œWhat amuses you?” he asked.
    From her heart, she said, “I was thinking that you must be very proud of this ship.”
    He stood taller.
    Crewmen roamed the deck, some dressed in ordinary seaman’s clothes, some in colorful tartans. Virginia longed to ask Cameron how it was that they were allowed to wear their plaids, but that too would have to wait. Several of the men doffed their caps or raised a hand in greeting. In the dim light, she couldn’t match faces to memories. “Should I know any of these men?”
    â€œOnly MacAdoo and the cook. One voyage to China was enough for my father’s crew. They preferred the shorter voyages.”
    Worldwise perfectly suited him. “You’ve been to China?”
    â€œAye, that is one of the reasons we parted in anger. I told you I was going to France, but I lied and made the first of many voyages to the East.”
    The information settled like a blanket over Virginia, and the strangest thought captured her. All those years ago, she’d learned French for nothing.
    â€œâ€Šâ€™Twasn’t humorous, Virginia.”
    Her reaction and his was the kind of honest exchange they had shared as children. He, with his dreams of owning a fleet of ships, and she, with her grand idea of becoming the greatest cartographer of their time. If shown a map of America today and asked to point out the location of Poplar Knoll, she would have failed.
    The rest will come.
    She stared up at the crow’s nest. “I think that I am still rather naive.”
    He chuckled low in his throat. “Enough of Agnes’s company and that will change.”
    He’d certainly changed. That once skinny neck was thick with muscles, and his voice was full and rich with a man’s confidence. “Agnes is your favorite of the MacKenzie women.”
    â€œNay.” His gaze moved to her mouth, and he smiled. “You have always been my pick of the litter.”
    By force of habit, she hadn’t included herself. Cameron had, and the sweetness of his words went straight to her heart. The smoldering look in his eye affected her in a much more earthy way. “I could tell Agnes you said that . . . about the litter.”
    â€œNot you.” His attention wavered and settled on a spot behind her. “Never have you tattled on me. We were always loyal to each other.”
    They were joined by a man she did not recognize.
    â€œShe’s river right, Captain.”
    â€œForbes, meet Virginia MacKenzie.”
    â€œA pleasure, my lady.”
    The respect in the man’s tone gave her confidence. “It’s mine, I’m sure, Mr. Forbes.”
    â€œCarry on then.” Cameron guided Virginia to the bow.
    She went willingly, his romantic declaration echoing in her ears. She had stood here in this very spot, on the port side, a carefree child. She’d sat on a coil of ropes and charted the coastline of Dornock Firth.
    â€œDo you remember something of the past?”
    From out of the sky swooped a merlin falcon, its pointed wings beating a strong steady path above the plane of the river. Holding onto the rail and watching the river rush toward the sea, she experienced her first true taste of freedom. “Just a joyous feeling.” More than joy filled her. Volition and independence awaited her.
    â€œMany an afternoon did we pass on this brig. You mapped the Orkney Isles until your fingers turned blue with the cold. My father made you go below.”
    â€œWhere are those maps?”
    â€œAgnes has them.”
    â€œYou named your ship for me.”
    â€œAye, and looked everywhere for you.” He