Will let himself out of the exterior door, passing Ann’s cabin as he tried to ignore more thoughts of her.
Out on the deck, sunshine peeked through a rain cloud and warmed his cheeks. The winds still blew, but the sea had calmed to rolling swells instead of behemoth waves crashing over the deck, bearing witness of the miracle he’d suspected last night.
It was Sunday, and Will and the other high-ranking crew were supposed to attend services, according to Captain Fairfield’s instructions. But Will doubted there’d be any such meetings while residual rain still doused the deck. He needed to meet with the captain to assess all damage that had transpiredover the past day and make a plan going forward, but he wished he could reveal that he’d heard the captain’s call for prayers.
He turned about, assessing who was at the helm.
Captain Fairfield stood at the wheel, and a few of the other sailors were scattered about cleaning debris and adjusting sails. Jack roamed the front of the ship, giving orders.
Will climbed up the steps and came to the captain’s side. The wind blew strong enough that he still had to raise his voice to communicate. “This looks a little more promising,” he said.
Captain Fairfield nodded. “True. I hope it holds.”
“Amazing how it relented so suddenly—”
“You should not have taken that watch,” the captain said, coming closer to him. “We can’t afford to lose you.”
So, he’d heard about it. “Crenshaw hurt his shoulder.”
“Yes, I’m aware. It was merely dislocated, and the doctor set it to rights. The man complains a good deal more than you do.”
Will couldn’t help but laugh.
“But in some ways, he’s smarter than you.” The captain shot him a pointed glance. “I didn’t realize it until it was too late, but I don’t want you going anywhere near the sick bay, even if you sustain an injury. The smallpox count continues to rise; there’s four passengers infected now, and you cannot contract it.”
“I was only there for a few hours.”
“I heard that from the doctor.” He shook his head. “I’d call you reckless, working so soon after an injury, but here you are, seemingly fit for duty.”
Will nodded and hid his bandaged arm behind his back as Fairfield continued. “You’ll make a great captain someday.” He lifted his chin. “Someday soon, I would wager.”
“Sir—”
“I don’t have many more voyages in me, Boyd. I want you to take my place.”
Will swallowed down his shock and tried to keep his composure. That was what he wanted, but he hadn’t thought the captain would offer it so soon.
“I’d be honored, sir, if the opportunity ever arose.”
“Very good,” he said. “And to your earlier point, the storm did calm quite suddenly.”
Will glanced at him. “Do you think ...”
“There’s something different about these passengers, for sure. They have power, apparently, to speak with the Almighty. And the most bewildering thing is it seems as though the Almighty listens. While others think they are cursed, I’m inclined to think otherwise.” The captain turned the course of the wheel once more. “Now go coordinate with Flynn. If we want to get this vessel to America before we run out of food, we are going to need another miracle.”
“Aye, sir.” Will thrust his hat onto his head and made his way down the steps toward the bow.
Ann woke to a knocking at the door. From the little light that entered her cabin, it must have been afternoon. Job, little Cyrus, and Adelaide were nowhere in sight, and Ann guessed her mother had gone to help in the kitchen as she did most days. Since her dear mother had started helping, the quality of food aboard had drastically increased, though as the weeks went on, every bit of food became staler.
Another knock sounded, and she came out of her thoughts. When she opened the door, Judith Wood, one of the other volunteers, stood in the doorway. “Dr. Rowley says he needs you in the sick bay.”
“I’ll be right there,” Ann said. It hadn’t been that many hours since she was below deck helping, but she knew well that once one person was sick, others could succumb all too quickly. As she laced her shoes, a part of her wished she hadn’t slept so long. She’d needed it, but had she woken earlier, she would have been able to check on Will. More than likely, he was stoically working. But she liked that he’d asked to see her again all the same.
She crossed the deck toward the main hatchway without catching sight of him, though with the waves calming, almost all the sailors were above deck fixing what they could. A few passengers had ventured out as well. Staying in steerage for long bouts of time wore on anyone, no doubt, even when there wasn’t a sickness spreading.
“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind her. She didn’t have to see him to know the origin of the British accent.
“Good day, Brother Wheatley,” she said, turning. Her stomach barreled down on itself. She didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was no way to tell if there would be any future with William Boyd, but one thing was plain: There would be no future with Brother Wheatley.
