“Can I help?”
“I hate lying down like this. I feel so utterly useless.”
“Mr.—Will—” She leaned toward him, and he smiled when she corrected herself. “I don’t think you understand that you must be careful. Even though it is wrapped well, you should rest.” She lifted his wrist and laid it across his abdomen like he’d been trying to do.
He shook his head. “I will be well soon enough. Every good sailor has a high pain tolerance.” His countenance, however, did not reflect his words, and Ann noticed a yawn escape.
“Perhaps you should let the laudanum do its trick,” she said.
His eyes started to droop, and Ann marveled that the medicine could create such huge ups and downs in so short a time. “You rest now, and I’ll stay right here. And Will, while we are here, please call me Ann.”
“Ann.” He sighed and his eyes closed. He was fading fast. “I like finally saying it.”
Finallysaying it? That must have meant he’d been thinking it. He said no more as he relaxed into sleep. As she watched him for a few more minutes, she couldn’t deny the feelings that were swiftly developing for him, especially with the clarification of his thoughts on their friendship. Their relationship felt very different from her friendship with Brother Wheatley. Though she wasn’t sure what would come of such feelings, Will was making his way deeper into her heart.
Chapter 18
Just past midnight, March 18, 1854
25 days at sea
Will could smell recently fizzledcandle smoke, and though his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the dim room around him, the scent, mixed with the smell of blood and cleaning alcohol reminded him of where he was—and what had happened. The fire on deck had been terrifying, and getting it under control had come with a price. He reached his right hand across his body and felt the wrapping on the tender skin. Pain shot up his arm as he did so, but it was well covered. He wondered just how long a burn like that would take to heal and convinced himself that he would be able to return to his duties soon, if he could keep it bandaged.
He could make out his surroundings now, and in a stiff wooden chair with her head resting against the wall sat Ann, asleep.
The laudanum had taken away some of the pain—and made him a little bit daft, he seemed to recall—but he could remember almost perfectly the conversation with her, and even despite his pain, the feeling of her hand on his.
Her mussed bun and runaway strands around her face only added to her beauty, and Will couldn’t remember being this taken by a young lady since he first thought girls were pretty in the junior Sunday school he attended with his grandmother.
If Grandmother were here, she’d tell him to go after this young lady, if it suited his heart. She always was a romantic. Such a notion suddenly appealed to him. Of course he couldn’t really make his feelings known, not with the captain’s orders, but at least he could enjoy a few conversations and her pretty smiles.
This voyage was fraught with problems. The ship had been making very little westward progress for days, and that meant their voyage would be longer than most and they might run out of food. He grimaced.
The only positive of a long voyage was that it meant more time to possibly spend with Ann. And once he got to know her better, he wondered if there could be something between them after they landed.
Stirring him from his thoughts, Will felt the entire ship pitch to the left. He glanced out the porthole as a flash of lightning lit up huge rolling whitecaps. The boat jolted again to the right. A thunderclap exploded in his ears. They were in another storm.
Most of the crew and all the passengers would be below deck, and the officers would be taking half-hour watches. He had no idea how much time had passed or if someone was directing the safety of the ship. That was supposed to be his job. He had to leave the sick bay now, no matter how badly his arm hurt.
He swung his feet over the edge of the cot, and the movement sent another shooting pain through his arm. But his legs worked, along with the rest of him. With his good arm he braced himself against the wall and stood. Thankfully they hadn’t thought to remove his boots.
Once on his feet, he looked across the way into the adjacent room, where three people now lay. The one closest to the window had red swollen masses on her face, and Will closed his eyes. He’d forgotten about the smallpox. He’d only heard about two people infected, but this meant the disease was spreading. He hoped their lives would be spared, and the rest of the people aboard would not fall ill. This was one more reason he should go above deck. This proximity could prove fatal.
He took a step toward the door, seeing beautiful Ann with her dutiful head against the wall as she slept. The doctor, too, lay asleep on one of the open cots.
No one would stop him from leaving then. He checked the firm bandage around his wound before he stepped again toward the door. The boat pitched, and he caught himself, sucking in the moan that nearly gave him away.
He managed to open the door with one hand and let himself into the dark corridor. He knew every nook of this ship, even with his eyes closed. He passed by steerage and the galley and then stared at the ladder before him. He’d have to climb it single-handed if he wanted to get back to his cabin. Above him, he heard the pelting rain against the hatch. He listened harder and heard two men yelling.
“Get below,” one yelled to the other. It was Crenshaw. “I’ll take a double shift.”
He’d never liked the man, but here he was, taking Will’s duties on. Perhaps he ought to adjust his feelings.
The hatch swung open, and Captain Fairfield himself came barreling down, apparently the person Crenshaw had told to go below. If the captain had been putting his life in danger on Will’s account, Will needed to intervene. No one should have to pick up his slack, least of all the captain. His blasted injury could not get in the way.
But Will knew if the captain saw him, he’d order him away. Instinctively he pulled back into the corner of the galley near a barrel of food and waited in the silence. The level of the galley held a few cabins, and the captain strode toward one and rapped on the door three times.
From Will’s vantage, he could just make out the figure who answered it. It was the leader of the passengers, President Garn, as they called him.
