To her relief, Captain Haig seemed to agree with her. “It will cost a fortune in fuel to go back,” he said. “The port charges will be even worse. Add in the time to refuel, and we’ll be two days behind schedule.”
If possible, Gray got even angrier as he paced in the tight confines of the wheelhouse. “Then we’ll stop in Philadelphia and put her ashore there. I don’t care how much it costs, I want her off this ship.”
This was a development she hadn’t considered, and it terrified her. She didn’t have enough money to make her way home from Philadelphia. But Gray was a logical man, if he could just simmer down.
“Gray, you need to care more about your cause than your hatred for me. I can help you. I can deliver on Luke’s idea—”
“If you’re smart, you’ll stop saying my brother’s name.”
He was right. Saying the name Luke was like waving a red cape before a bull. Time to shift tactics. “Caroline told me about Clyde Magruder. How he’s going to run for Congress and just keep getting richer as he pumps out more adulterated food. If we can getGood Housekeepingon our side, it might take some of the wind out of his sails.”
News of her presence must have spread, for other members of the crew started gathering outside the wheelhouse, peering through the windows in curiosity. She was glad to see Otis, for he was the only semi-friendly face among the dozen sailors gaping at her.
She ignored the others and turned to Gray, flinching at the seething anger on his face. It hurt. How stupid she’d been to imagine this trip might be a chance to win his forgiveness. He didn’t even look like the same man who’d once gazed at her with such tender affection.
Her lower lip began wobbling furiously, and she prayed she wouldn’t be reduced to tears before all these people. If possible, Gray’s face turned even harder, but he reached into his pocket and thrust a handkerchief at her.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t cry,” he groused. “It’s bad enough having a woman on board, but I won’t subject my crew to sniveling.” He turned to look at the half dozen sailors who gawked at the exchange. “You can all go below,” he ordered.
She was sorry to see them leave. They were a buffer between her and Gray’s smoldering anger, but maybe it was a blessing. She intended to keep pressing for the chance to go to Boston,and it was unlikely Gray would cave before an audience. While the other men filed down the hatch, she scooped up the cat that had crept toward her feet, holding it against her chest for comfort.
“Put the cat down,” Gray ordered, still staring stonily into the distance. “You’re making it nervous.”
More likely she was making him nervous, but she complied. She watched him carefully as emotions continued to play across his face. She dared not say a word. It was time to let Gray process what had happened and arrive at his own conclusions.
Finally he spoke, his voice devoid of emotion. “Haig, have someone escort her down to the starboard crew quarters. She can sleep there. It’s empty.”
Captain Haig looked over in surprise. “Gray, those berths are just hammocks. We could offer her—”
“A hammock is perfectly fine for a stowaway,” Gray said. There was no softening in his face, but at least he turned to look at her. “I’ll take you to Boston, but I expect you to help with meals while you’re on board. First thing tomorrow morning, you are to be in the galley, helping the cook prepare breakfast. I won’t tolerate a layabout.”
That was the end of the conversation, as he slammed the door on his way out of the wheelhouse, but relief gusted through her.
Captain Haig summoned Otis to show her to the empty crew quarters, and she happily settled for a hammock. The room had a dozen hammocks and cargo nets strung from the ceiling where sailors stowed their belongings. It smelled like damp rope, salt, and metal in here. The ropes squeaked as she cautiously sat on the hammock nearest the porthole. Lying down was awkward. The hammock swung at a terrifying angle as she cautiously lay back, but the wobbling finally slowed, and she was able to breathe again.
It was hard to sleep when the hammock swayed each time she tried to shift. The darkness was almost complete, and itwas scary down here. This must be what Elaine felt like in her dark, isolated world.
Annabelle drew a calming breath. The Hillenbrands had agreed to check on Elaine until Annabelle returned from Boston, but she still worried. Her sister had come a long way in the past few months, but this week on her own would still be difficult for Elaine.
It was time to make the best of things. Elaine would be fine. Perhaps God had sent this challenge to them both as a means of forcing them to face down their fears. The next few days would be a test, and Annabelle would rise to the occasion even if it terrified her.
Twenty-Eight
Gray awoke bleary-eyed and annoyed the following morning, but also a tiny bit intrigued. Just knowing that Annabelle was aboard his ship alternately thrilled and infuriated him.
They sailed with a skeleton crew, and he was tempted to order her confined to her quarters for the duration of the voyage. It would be easier to concentrate if he didn’t have to look at her, but he couldn’t do it. Annabelle didn’t belong trapped belowdecks, and he’d simply have to deal with her.
The scent of bacon and eggs drew him down the narrow corridor to the mess hall, a skinny room adjacent to the kitchen with long tables and benches, all securely anchored to the floor.
Annabelle sat with Otis, enjoying a cup of coffee and cuddling the cat. Stowaways shouldn’t look that cozy.
“You’re spoiling my cat,” Gray groused as he headed to the sideboard for a plate of eggs.
“Sweetie Pie is yours?” Annabelle asked.
“Tiger is a first-rate mouser. There’s nothing sweet about her. She’s also a working cat, so feeding her bacon is killing her instinct and interfering with her duties.”
“Does your ship have mice?” Her tone was appalled.Of coursehis ship had mice; all ships had mice.
