Will bowed and made his way out of the man’s cabin toward the gangplank.
Deep inside his bones he could feel a storm brewing, no matter what the captain claimed.
Chapter 2
February 21, 1854
The foul dampness of Liverpoolhung outside of the lodging house, threatening to deepen Ann’s gloom. Her sister and niece had not improved, and they still didn’t know when the ship would set sail. But smiling across from her sat Elizabeth Cherry, the new acquaintance and fellow traveler she’d met yesterday, beaming like sunshine personified.
“Five marriages, I tell you.” The blonde, light-eyed woman sighed. “Before we’ve even left the harbor!”
Elizabeth gazed longingly out the small window of her room toward the ship, while Ann returned her eyes to the heavy, stiff canvas she attempted to fold.
“Did you attend any of them, Ann?” Before Ann could answer, Elizabeth prattled on. “I did, and it was lovely seeing the couples stand on the deck and the look in their eyes as they held each other’s hands while the ceremony was read ...”
Elizabeth trailed off and walked to the window, but Ann focused on preparing the thick fabric into bundles, noticing the new quiet. In her own room next door, silence was scarce, the days and nights punctuated with the sad cries and whimpers of Addy. Those sounds broke Ann’s heart, and she listened hard but heard nothing. She blew out a breath. Hopefully the silence meant Adelaide and little Addy were getting the sleep they desperately needed.
Elizabeth wasn’t the only member of the Church Ann had met. Many of their faith had gathered here in preparation to sail, and she knew some of the single men and women had formed relationships and desired to be married by President Garn, their group leader, before the journey began.
Ann hadn’t attended any of those marriage ceremonies. While others were eager to make new friends, she’d been more reluctant. She’d decided to sail to America and travel onward to Zion because she wanted to watch overher mother and sister. Her mother was getting older, and with Job tasked to help all of the Church members and often attending to those duties, Adelaide needed her too. But Ann’s reasons for going felt weak, like she didn’t quite belong with the other Saints.
Elizabeth turned away from the window, her cheeks just as rosy as her surname. “If only I found me a beau on our voyage, that would be just the thing.” She took a seat on the lumpy mattress and clasped and unclasped her hands, until finally she seemed to notice Ann’s silence. “Do ... you ... not wish for such a thing?”
Ann smoothed the bundle on her lap. This cloth would cover their wagons once they went west, and having enough material to provide some shelter over their heads seemed more important than finding a gentleman caller. She gathered Elizabeth’s bundle to her own and tied them together, stacking them high, only then realizing Elizabeth waited for her response with one hand propped on her hip.
“Perhaps, Elizabeth, but not so much as you.”
“Well of course, rightly not!” Elizabeth answered. “When you are twenty-three like me, you’ll feel more urgency too. If I were as young as you, I wouldn’t care either!”
Ann smiled, but inwardly she knew her feelings weren’t based on age. She wished she knew without a doubt that this was what God wanted for her: this cause, this arduous journey.
But shediddoubt.
Mother’s faith was as clear and strong as the blue sky that had just started to show through the clouds. Ann wished her own faith were as resilient.
Ann scooped the heavy bundle up in her arms. “One thing is sure, it will be a great adventure.” She smiled, hoping Elizabeth couldn’t hear the doubt in her voice.
Elizabeth smoothed her hand over the fabric bundle Ann held. “Here I was thinking too much about romance, and you’ve done all my work for me. Let me take our fabric down to the ship.”
“No, I am happy to do it. My legs need the exercise.”
“If you insist,” said Elizabeth. “I did promise Sister Brower that I’d check that a few other travelers were prepared. I should be on my way. She wanted most everything packed today in case the weather is favorable for a quick departure.”
“If I see Sister Brower near the ship, I’ll ask her what else should be done once I deliver these,” Ann said as she hefted her load. She went through the doorway and down the cobbled road toward the wharf.
Ann had never much cared for boats or large bodies of water. The times she’d walked onto the docked ship to stow their belongings during the last few days had taught her that she didn’t care for the sailors either. Their uncivilized eyes had seemed to gawk at her long, full skirts and tidy hair like they’d never seen a lady before. Their coarse shirts and ruddy faces and too-long hair spoke to their vulgarity as they scurried through the riggings more adeptly than monkeys, sometimes uttering words to each other that ladies should not hear. But at least it wasn’t like the way the streets filled with untrustworthy vendors at night. It was only afternoon, and the sun did seem like it had finally decided to smile on their journey. She wished she felt as warm about the journey as the rays of sunlight felt on her skin.
Ann kept her gaze forward and her gait firm, her thoughts circling back to her conversation with Elizabeth. Six years ago, her dream had been to grow up and be courted by some successful man in Hempstead. He’d propose romantically, and once they married, they’d have a beautiful, large family within ten miles of her parents.
Those twelve-year-old-girl dreams had changed a great deal when her father died, and even more when the missionaries had come four years ago. She’d liked what the missionaries had promised. They said she’d see her father again. Their religion felt different—applicable and close. God finally seemed like a wise parent, not some unknown being who criticized humankind from a cloud somewhere. So, along with her mother and Adelaide, she’d been baptized. She read her scriptures nearly every day; she knew many passages by heart. She just wondered if she believedenoughto cross a great ocean, risk death, leave all financial security behind, and come to a new land.
She clenched and unclenched her left hand. She’d sold her violin to come. She pressed her fingers in a silent scale against her bundle. Giving up her instrument was just one of many sacrifices.
Her thoughts accompanied her all the way down the fishy, tobacco-stained dock. She drew a reluctant breath as she neared the end of it, peering out at the great merchant vessel to her right. This was the bit she dreaded most. Walking over the rickety, rough-hewn stretch of wood between the dock and the boat’s main deck always sent a shiver down her spine. Sheglanced at the churning water below, the froth sloshing against the hull. If she slipped, it would be a devastating fall, especially for one who did not know how to swim.
But she had not come this far to be bested by a wooden plank. She clasped her bundle close to her chest and put out one foot after another, moving slowly as she managed each step with precision.
The crashing of waves grated on her nerves, but gaining confidence, she looked up, only to see a fairly well-dressed sailor striding toward her from the other side of the gangplank. His speed was faster than her own, his steps sure. Unlike most sailors, instead of a mere shirt and trousers, he wore a smart blue jacket and a cravat. He also looked as though he’d bathed, at least in the last month, his hair tidy.
