Why were they still listing to the side? They should have righted by now.
A commotion at the stern caught his attention. A crate had burst open and strewn its contents across the cabin side deck. Large bags of flour covered the deck, and another crate appeared in danger of joining it. If it fell, the old woman’s fear-mongering would become a reality.
He gently broke Winnie’s iron grip on him. “Stay here.”
“Don’t leave me,” she cried.
He cupped her chin and looked her in the eyes. “The crew needs help, sweetheart. Every second counts.” He gestured to the back of the steamer.
Winnie’s eyes widened. “Go. Hurry.”
He jumped to his feet and raced to the stern. Just as he reached the crew, the steamer listed further to the right, and his stomach went right along with it. He gritted his teeth and willed the queasiness away. There was no time for that.
The captain barked orders over the steam engine’s ominous hissing. The crew and able-bodied male passengers rushed to restock and secure the busted crates. Before the steamer found its equilibrium, it dipped back and forth. By the time the captain deemed the job done, Mack was dripping in sweat. His muscles trembled as he fought to keep down the bile filling the back of his throat.
The passengers cheered, and relieved laughter echoed around the decks even as the crew began its damage assessment. But Mack could only concentrate on maintaining his shaky balance. He slowly made his way back to where Winnie stood.
When he passed the old woman, she muttered, “And you thought me irrational.”
“Here, now,” Winnie scolded. “Mr. Donnelly helped assure our safety.” The old woman grunted something under her breath and headed inside the cabin. Winnie rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look. “That was a very brave thing you did.”
He waved a dismissive hand, careful to move as little as possible. “I think that old crone cursed us with her tales of doom.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”
“Everyone knows it’s bad luck to talk of such things while on board a vessel.”
She pursed her lips. “You said it would be fine.”
“Obviously, I was a fool.”
She let out a weak laugh. “I’m delighted to learn you aren’t as unflappable as you pretend.”
“Anything to improve your impression of me.”
“All is well,” the captain called across the deck.
“No thanks to you,” Mack muttered, and Winnie nodded. On this, at least, they could agree.
“We’ll be on our way and should arrive at the next port within a half hour,” the captain continued. The steamer lurched forward, slicing through the fog that refused to ease its grip on the sound.
“Let’s find a seat inside,” Mack suggested, struggling for nonchalance even as his stomach gave a warning cramp.
“I prefer the fresh air.”
So did he, normally, but if he didn’t sit down soon, he was going to fall down.
“To each their own,” he said, moving at a snail’s pace toward the cabin. He was almost there when he ruined it by staggering forward and catching himself against the doorway.
Winnie was instantly at his side, easing her shoulder under his arm to prop him up. “You’re seasick.”
There was no judgment in her voice, just facts, yet he still cringed with embarrassment.
“Come on, I’ll help you inside. There are several empty seats by a window.”
“Best of both worlds,” he agreed.
Two breaths away from casting up his lunch on the deck, Winnie delivered him to a seat in the back of the cabin. He sank into it, dropping his head between his knees in relief.
