“The boat will pitch so badly you’ll be thrown.” He pointed to the massive whitecaps that rammed rhythmically and relentlessly against the hull. “Andthis wind, it’s a warning to leave. I’ve even sent half my men to take shelter. You can’t best the wind, not when it’s like this.”
She gripped the side of the railing tighter. “On the contrary, Mr. Boyd, God gives us the wind and expects us to learn how to capture it.”
He’d had very few conversations with the passengers thus far. Most of them had done nothing but hunker down and fight seasickness. But now he couldn’t think of a more ignorant thing to claim. He should have guessed these zealots would always be referencing God. “You don’t capture the wind in a storm like this, ma’m. You batten down the hatches and mind your business.” He wielded a determined eyebrow to help drive the point.
She shook her head. “Not so, Mr. Boyd. Someday you’ll see what I mean.” She glanced at the stormy, ash-colored sky.
This woman knew nothing of his past, of his reasoning.
“I can see you still doubt my ability, so I’ll go in one more minute if you leave me be.”
Will didn’t appreciate the way the woman spouted her erroneous knowledge about wind and weather on a merchant vesselandtried to bargain with him, but he glanced back toward the helm and saw that Mr. Drake was now steering and Jack had gone to help some of the more novice of their seamen reef the sails. But their numbers were too few, and this wind would put them out of their depth shortly.
With an audible grunt and a short tip of his hat, he looked the older lady sternly in the eye and then plodded back toward the main mast.
The wind churned up everything like foam on top of a mug of beer. As he made his way down the starboard side, he heard a huge crack above him. He covered his head with one hand and looked up just in time to watch the top six feet of the mizzenmast snap in two and come crashing down, one sail still attached to the jagged wood.
A few splinters ricocheted around, and Will ducked.
“Help me grab the canvas, men!” He shouted. “Furl it and stow it immediately.”
Two men left Jack and ran toward him. Then, from nowhere came a younger boy who threw his entire weight onto the ropes.
“Scotty, what are you doing here!” Will screamed. “Be careful!”
It was the small, young sailor he’d caught thieving, and seeing him out in this storm sent terror through every part of Will’s being. He rememberedbeing that age, trying to help in a storm just like this one but in far warmer waters. Trying to help the boatswain ...
“Get below deck,now, Scotty,” Will yelled.
“But, sir,” the boy said as he attempted to gather up the flapping cloth.
“I saidnow,” Will bellowed. “The nearest hatch.”
Scotty looked up at him as though he thought he’d gone mad but dipped his head when he met Will’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”
In an instant he was gone. Will could almost feel the searing pain wrench through the palm of his right hand again. The rope he held seemed to burn like poison, and he dropped it.
“Enough, men,” he yelled. “I’ll take what I can of this cloth down the hatch. All of you back to the boatswain and see what he wants you to do.”
The other men scurried back to Jack, and Will drew a deep breath before opening the hatch nearest him. He hated the danger the storms brought with them, lying in wait to destroy life at every turn.
Ann double-checked the blanket next to her petticoat to make sure it was covered with the other layers of her skirt and reached for the ladder. She paused as the hatch above her opened. A huge, crumpled canvas dropped through the hole. The fabric was sopping wet, and much of the water sprayed her as it fell.
So much for trying to avoid the rain earlier. At least it was only her torso and the top layer of her dress.
She stepped back as far as she could in the tight space as one of the sailors barreled down the ladder after the fabric. Her movement wasn’t enough, because by the time she got out of his way, the sailor had dripped water all over her hair and bodice again.
The whipping wind had blown some of the man’s wet hair in front of his face, and although she couldn’t make out his features, she didn’t miss the angry yell that escaped him. “What on earth are you doing here? I instructed all the passengers to turn in!”
“It’s a dire need, sir.”
He hastily brushed the wet mop of brown hair out of his eyes, exposing the flame of anger behind their green-blue hue. Ann knew his face instantly, but never had he had such a wild, almost frenzied look in his eye.
He recognized her, too, despite the dark space. “Of course it would be you. Of all the stupid notions—trying to climb up the ladder at a time like this—” His eyes darted behind her toward the one dim lamp and subsequent darkness. “What I need is for you and all your other crusader friends to fall in line. Why are you out and about! My sailors follow my orders, and it’s time you did as well.”
“I was searching for a dry blanket for my infant niece.” She gestured toward steerage.
“Haven’t you got blankets of your own?”
