“I need to know what happened with Mr. Boyd,” he said. “I heard a report of his being above deck. Did you dismiss him?”
“Certainly not. He walked out while I was asleep, I am ashamed to admit.”
“Stubborn man,” Dr. Rowley muttered. “You would do well to check his wound again, but the captain has said Mr. Boyd cannot be near the sick bayany longer.” Ann wondered why the captain would say such a thing. Perhaps the captain did not trust the doctor, but that made her nervous for the sake of the passengers.
She wasn’t sure she should admit what she did yesterday, but she figured the doctor ought to know. “Mr. Boyd’s cabin is near mine, and I did give him more liniment and wrappings yesterday.”
Dr. Rowley apprised her with a curious look but asked no more questions. “That man has a higher pain tolerance than anyone aboard this ship, I am certain. Thank you for looking out for him. If you see him again, please let me know what you learn about his wound.”
“Indeed,” she said. Truth be told, she very much wished to follow up with him. “Will that be all?”
“Until there are more cases of smallpox, yes.”
He said it as if more cases were inevitable.
Ann knew he was right.
Chapter 22
Evening, March 19, 1854
26 days at sea
Will ended his evening watchwithout speaking to Ann. When he’d said he’d like her to check on him, it had been because he was growing fonder of her presence. Now she hadn’t come, and not only did he miss her, but he also thought his arm needed real attention; the heat there was growing, and he feared infection. He shook out his fingers as Crenshaw ascended the steps to the poop deck to spell him.
Will cleared his throat. “Nothing to report, and praise the heavens, the seas have calmed.”
Crenshaw glared at him, half muttering to himself. “Praise the heavens—rubbish.”
Will didn’t respond to the comment but told Crenshaw the course and coordinates, then let himself down the ladder. The sun had passed below the horizon nearly two hours ago, and with all of the sun’s light extinguished, the sky boasted one of the most resplendent paintings Mother Nature had ever created. Oh, how he loved a calm sea at night.
He hung to the lower rail, breathing in the deep sea air when someone drew up beside him.
“I was hoping to find you here,” Ann said.
Will wondered if she saw the surprise in his countenance or if she could recognize the pleasure that existed there.
“How did you know I would be here?”
She glanced sidelong at him. “Though your silhouette is one of a sailor, it is still distinct, Will.”
He swallowed, taken aback at the sound of his name. How could just his name from her mouth cause such a reaction? He thrilled at her lighthearted words, then noticed her petite hands gripping the handrail, and wished, had there not been such a stringent rule, that he were the one holding her instead.
“I realize I am late in finding you, but I have brought more liniment and wrapping for your wound.” She glanced into her apron pocket. “I didn’t want to interrupt your watch.”
He liked the way her tidy bun drew her hair from her face, exposing her smooth skin and kind mouth. He’d liked it messy too, so perhaps he just liked her hair in general.
In the faint moonlight, her eyes possessed even more sparkle than usual. “The doctor wanted me to see how your wound fared. Perhaps we could step inside the corridor that leads to the cabin and I could check it for him?”
Will smiled. He took one more breath of the night air. He didn’t regret leaving it if it meant more time with Ann.
Once they were seated side by side at the table outside of their cabins, she withdrew a small bottle of liniment and a cloth wrapping.
“The doctor said the captain declared you are no longer allowed in the sick bay. Does the captain not trust Dr. Rowley’s methods?”
Concern riddled her face, and he longed to smooth the slight lines that pulled at her eyes.
“No, the doctor is quite skilled. The captain has other concerns.” He met her gaze. “He doesn’t want me near the smallpox. I’ve never had it, you see.”
