“Yes, but they are soaked through, and my niece is already freezing. She’s only a few weeks old, sir.”
He let out a humph. Two sailors approached from the galley on either side of the gigantic iron stove. Upon seeing Mr. Boyd, they came to attention.
“Where have you been? Secure the hatches here and at the forecastle and extinguish the lamps before they set something afire.”
“Aye, Mr. Boyd,” they both said in unison and hurried off. He gave a satisfied half nod and turned back to Ann. “See what I mean?”
Ann tried to shake the water from her long sleeves. “Your entrance has soaked half my dress and all of my hair. If you are so well respected, I would think you’d have the decency to apologize. Now, if you’ll let me pass, I’ll return to my cabin.”
Before he could reply, the sound of a large crack shook the entire ship, and she crouched down instinctively.
“Blast!” she heard him yell. By the time she opened her eyes again, Mr. Boyd was at the top of the ladder and had opened the hatch, sending even more water onto her head. He turned back to yell at her. “You are on a fool’s errand. Take shelter!” She caught a glimpse of several ropes whipping about and heard metal rings clanging together like angry birds fighting for a bit to eat. Then he disappeared and the hatch slammed shut.
Did he really find her that much of a nuisance? It’d been mere coincidence that he’d also been in the street and on the gangplank at the same time as her. And in both of those instances, she hadn’t delayed him overmuch. Both times he hadn’thadto help her at all.
He’d been rude in the street, but once he knew she was a paying passenger, he’d been more kind. So why the sudden switch to raging tyrant? She gritted her teeth and grasped the ladder.
There were far greater concerns at hand than an American sailor’s foul mood and atrocious manners. Or even this storm. Addy was too frail, too sickly, for Ann to stand by and not act.
Babies died too often at this age, let alone ones that were exposed to such terrible conditions as this voyage. Her family couldn’t lose Addy—and Ann didn’t care what orders she had to disobey to see to the baby’s comfort. With a deep breath she prepared to ascend the ladder, open the hatch, and make it back to her cabin.
Chapter 5
February 25, 1854
4 days at sea
Ann pulled Addy closeras she sat on the bed of the cabin trying to warm the little baby with her own body heat. She tucked in the edges of the blanket Elizabeth had lent them during the storm yesterday. Though the storm had abated, Addy was decidedly worse. The newborn’s pinched cry echoed off the wooden walls of the cabin. Ann gave the little babe the edge of her knuckle to pacify her, but when the baby started to suck on it, the latch of her tongue didn’t seem as strong as it once was.
Addy probably wanted milk, but Adelaide had needed a reprieve after waiting on her baby night and day since they entered this forsaken ship. For four days they’d had storms and bad luck and sickness. Through it all, Ann couldn’t help thinking that perhaps she was the cause. Only God could control the weather—were all of the storms they’d encountered a punishment for her lack of total devotion and commitment?
The thought unsettled her, but since the weather had tempered, Ann had told Adelaide to go on deck to take some fresh air while the rest of the family procured their breakfast portions.
The door to their cabin creaked open. “How is she?” Adelaide’s tall frame ducked inside.
“She’s well.” Ann tried for a smile. “You weren’t gone very long. I am happy to keep her longer.”
Adelaide’s eyes cast downward. “I was worried about her. I didn’t want to be away any more time. A mother would do anything for her child—”
Ann interrupted her. “She likes me—we are doing great. Go have a longer break.”
Adelaide stared at her, a hand twisting on the doorknob as she deliberated. Ann raised one hand to gesture her away, but Addy let out a cry at the same moment.
“She needs me!” Adelaide said, rushing forward. Ann let out a sigh and pushed to the edge of the small bed. “You are the best of mothers.”
Adelaide reached for Addy. “She’s probably hungry.”
Ann knew just by looking at her sister that the woman needed to hold her baby again. After watching Adelaide with her children, she was certain there was a sacred type of restorative balm that came to a mother when holding her child.
“Plus,” said Adelaide, now trying for a smile herself as she rocked the baby, who had quieted a little, “there’s quite a few young people walking about on the deck. Some fine gentlemen, too, if one was in the market to look ...”
“Heavens,” Ann shook her head. She’d had enough of that talk via Elizabeth. But the idea of fresh air did appeal to her. “Though if the weather is nice, I suppose I shall face them.”
She closed the door behind her, and once the sun met her cheek, a little bit of her worry for Addy melted away as she took in a large draft of air.
Her sister had been right. The waist and the poop decks held droves of people, maybe seventy, if she were to count. Most people clung to the edges, leaving the masts and rigging free to allow the sailors to do their jobs. A few of the crew perched on the yards like birds on a tree limb, adjusting the sails. Another man, who Ann assumed was the boatswain, sewed a ripped length of canvas. He spoke with Mr. Boyd, whose expression reflected a man who’d just consumed a sour tart but had forgotten how to right his mouth again afterward.
Ann shook her head, thinking of his rude behavior. How could he have no compassion for her niece whose condition had only worsened? Ann ran her finger under her nose to stop the drip there, for since yesterday she’d caught her own slight cold as well.
