He opened his mouth, and this time spoke much louder. “I am glad you are here, because thereissomething I need to explain.”
She stole a glance from her periphery and then focused again on the stars that danced just above the horizon.
He cleared his throat. “Miss Fowles, um, first you wondered if I had a lady friend, and then your mother was noticing my good qualities ...” He bit down on his lip again. “It behooves me to tell you that, while I do enjoy your company, I want to make certain you don’t get the wrong idea.”
At this point his lip burned with how much he’d chewed on it in this short conversation. As he glanced to the side, he could see, even in the dim light, some color snake up past the collar of Miss Fowles’s dress. Not that he should be noticing her slender neck at all.
By the time her gaze met his though, he’d wished he hadn’t done such a thorough job looking at her. “My goodness, Mr. Boyd. I think I understand what you are insinuating.” Her eyes were tight, and her tone had an edge to it that made him wish he was far away at the helm. “I am of the mind that anything more than a mere friendship is a terribly untoward idea.” She drew a fortifying breath, and her ire seemed to mount. “And as for my mother—you mustn’t take any of her supposed interest as something I encouraged. She would have me chat with anyone who was male and single on this boat. ’Tis the way of a widow, I suppose. I am sorry if any of our conversations seemed wrong-intentioned.”
She brushed one hand against the railing and tipped her head. “Thank you for making it soveryclear that I don’t know how to befriend a crew member.”
Oh, bother. This was getting worse. Time to stop chewing on his lip and open his mouth. “I must beg pardon. I can see that you are upset, and it is abundantly clear that I have no skill set for accurately expressing myself to a female—”
“Oh, I think you did an overly adequate job.” Her smile looked anything but actually pleased. “And to answer your original question more truthfully—”
He drew breath to speak again but she didn’t stop.
“—the real reason I came on deck at this early hour was because of my nephew, Cyrus, who woke with a nightmare.” Now her tone felt disconcertingly like a schoolmistress when he’d been in trouble. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Sometimes, the stillness of a quiet deck is what my soul needs. As you have so willingly affected that desired silence, I will bid you adieu.”
He really had made her mad. “I—I am sorry, I didn’t mean to run you off. I—”
The not-pleased-but-smiling expression returned to her face. “On the contrary, you’ve been abundantly explicit. Goodbye.”
She was all the way to the forward hatchway before he even moved. He’d been trying to explain the captain’s rules, but he hadn’t been clear. Now he’d just made her angry.
Even her anger hadn’t made her any less attractive to him.
Morning, March 16, 1854
“You always have been quite brilliant when it comes to navigation,” Captain Fairfield said.
Will absently rolled up the map and swatted the table he stood over in the captain’s quarters. They’d discussed the next bearing as well as the lack of wind and how far they were behind course. It was all of a serious nature, but the awkward exchange with Miss Fowles during his night watch kept stealing into his thoughts.
He’d merely meant to say how he did appreciate her friendship, but he was not to show any undue favor toward anyone while on board, as per thecaptain’s orders. There. He’d thought it succinctly enough now. If only he’d been able to express that sentiment with her present, instead of making it sound like she was interested in him. No matter how brilliant he was when it came to charting, he was certifiably asinine when it came to talking with a woman, especially one who, in truth, had piqued his interest.
The captain had begun studying another map when a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Captain Fairfield called, and the doctor hurried inside.
“You called for me, sir?”
“Yes, Dr. Rowley.” He heaved a sigh. “I know it is early yet in the sickness, but every day I want a report of all smallpox cases.”
The surgeon dipped his head. “Of course, sir, but I am afraid you know as well as I do there’s not much that can be done to keep it from spreading. Our best hope is that most of the passengers have been exposed before.”
Will shuddered, the ever-present recollection that he’d never had the disease looming large in his mind.
Captain Fairfield met his gaze. “Mr. Boyd, I’ve instructed Mr. Garn to make sure all passengers keep their areas as clean as possible. Please let me know if there’s anything lacking.”
Will inclined his head. “Yes, sir.” He turned toward the doctor. “And what else do you need, Doctor, for success?”
“Normally I’d need more staff. But some of the women have already organized people to assist me. It’s astounding, really.” Dr. Rowley was hushed. “Most voyages I’ve been on, the passengers have been terrified and aren’t good for anything when it comes to helping.”
“I had the same thought,” the captain replied. “This group seems to have more fortitude than most.”
Surprised at the captain’s assessment, Will glanced at the doctor, who was nodding his agreement. If it were true that these passengers were more resilient, he wanted to know exactly what made it so. Fortitude didn’t seem a trait that would warrant a curse by God. Unbidden, Ann’s tearstained face came to mind. She had suffered great loss during their acquaintance, and already he could see her doggedly moving forward despite her grief. He’d just have to judge it for himself on Sunday when he was expected to attend their meetings.
Chapter 16
March 17, 1854
