Paul looked up and red ran across his face before he waved her over. Cal shook her head and smiled, then took a table in the corner.
"What will you have, Sir?" The server took another look and flushed red. "I'm sorry, sorry."
"Don't worry about it." Smiling up at the woman, Cal thought of Merica and her babe halfway around the world. "I'd like something different from what I've been eating on board, but not something that will lay me out sick."
"I know the perfect thing. It is chicken crusted with spices and roasted all day."
"Sounds lovely." Cal thought for a moment. "Bring a glass of wine or tankard of ale, whichever is better. After that, I'd like water."
"Yes, Ma'am." The server bobbed her head and disappeared into the kitchen.
Cal's fingers itched. As Captain, she didn't have much time to draw. Maybe if they laid over here for a few days she could break out her satchel full of her sketchbooks and pencils.