The nailed-together boards creaked beneath her and started to teeter. Ann glanced down at the water and froze, not sure how they would pass one another.
He was in the middle of the plank before he looked up, and as soon as he saw her, his eyes went wide. His feet immediately stilled, and he stood ramrod straight. She’d seen those eyes before, albeit in different circumstances and darker light.
He raised his hand to salute her, but before he finished, he dropped his arm sheepishly. “I beg pardon.” He took a few steps backward on the plank without glancing over his shoulder. Ann felt envious of his ease. “Your—um—parcel is large and seems heavy. May I help you with it?”
She remembered his voice, not too low or high, but pleasant, with that decidedly American accent. He was nicely clean-shaven too. He reached out to take the bundled canvas, and she stared at him without releasing it.
“I fear I might drop it in the water if I try to transfer it,” she said. After all, he hadn’t helped her home last time, and she surely didn’t need his help with so small a task now.
“Better it fall than you.” He hesitated a moment, but she didn’t give up her parcel. “Then at least allow me to assist you.”
He again walked backward on the plank and straddled the boat and the wood gangway, one foot on each. As she approached, without her acceptance, but before she could decline, he guided her by the small of her back and gripped his other hand around her elbow as he assisted with the last few steps.
“Best not to look down,” he said.
He must have noticed her nervous gaze. He was right, so she lifted her eyes to his, and just like two nights ago, the force was penetrating. The hue of his eyes did indeed perfectly match the water at the horizon just behind him, and just like when he’d touched her hand while returning her coin purse, his hand on her back was confident, but this time the confidence buoyed her. It was strange, however, that he wasn’t as gruff as he’d been before.
No one should keep this kind of eye contact with an unintroduced almost-stranger, so something had to be done. She cleared her throat. “Do you want to keep anonymously saving me, or will you tell me your name?”
They had made it to the deck of the ship, and he released her elbow and stepped back. “Oh, um, yes. The English very much care about their introductions, don’t they?”
“About as much as Americans care about rescuing, it would seem.”
He smiled and touched his bicorn with a little bow. “Mr. Boyd, at your service.”
“Well, Mr. Boyd,” she steadied her feet as the deck pitched with a wave rolling into the harbor, “I thank you.” If he was being cordial now, she, at least, could express her appreciation.
A gust of wind blew a whiff of mint and new leather to her nose. She couldn’t believe she was close enough to smell him, and the realization heated her cheeks.
He must have noticed her blush because he graciously looked away. “Of course—it is my duty to make sure all aboard are well cared for.”
“But in the market, you didn’t know I was one of the passengers ...”
“True, but you were in such need, I had to do something. Plus, that bread woman has been wily for years. I was happy to put her in her place.” He sighed and stared at her again. A penetrating gaze seemed to be his specialty. “I have a suspicion that even when you don’t go looking for it, trouble finds you.”
“I certainly hope not,” she replied, looking around him and hoping Sister Brower was somewhere nigh at hand to help direct her toward where they were stowing all of the fabric. “Good day,” she finished as she stepped away.
As though she were a summoned genie, Sister Brower poked her head from the main hatch. It wasn’t the first time Ann had noticed the woman’s impeccable timing.
“They say tomorrow’s the day,” the plump older woman called out. “If this weather holds.”
Ann sucked in some of the salty breeze, unsure if she was really ready to set sail, after all.
“She’s right,” Mr. Boyd echoed, bowing slightly before he headed toward that formidable gangplank. “Hope she doesn’t give us any more trouble.”
He glanced upward at the clearing clouds and then at her, and Ann wasn’t sure if his “she” causing trouble meant the weather or herself.
Either way, if he was on this same ship with her for the next six weeks, she was determined to prove she wasn’t always a naive girl who exposed her nerves to all and sundry.
Ann set down the fabric at the spot Sister Brower pointed to and shook out her tired arms. The woman’s ruddy cheeks pulled into a smile as she balanced her ample form on the deck. “It’ll be a good journey ahead; you mark my words. I can feel it. And I know these seas more than most.”
“I hope so,” Ann said, and turned to leave the ship. If only Adelaide and especially little Addy were a bit stronger. If only Ann had the faith and determination of her mother. But they’d come this far. Even if they felt unprepared, they would have to go when the time came.
The wooden boards of the gangway loomed before her and Ann realized Mr. Boyd had vanished. For one moment she almost wished he were there to help her again, but she pushed the silly idea out of her mind.
She stuck out one foot and took to the gangway, pretending that she was as agile as that sea-eyed sailor.
When Will made it to the edge of the dock, his friend Jack Flynn jabbed an elbow into his side.
