She nodded. Oh, how shewishedWill was one of those among the believers.
“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?”
His eyes hadn’t left hers, and he nodded.
“A week later we went to the banks of a river near my home. One of the missionaries said a prayer. One by one, each of us was baptized, and when it was my turn, I went down into the water and back up again, like how Christ was baptized. It was a simple act, but I felt so different.” Emotion caused her voice to quaver, and she paused a moment until she could go on. After wiping away a tear, she lowered her voice. “Life was never to be the same.”
Will adjusted his seat to face her square on.
“And ... you knew that God was real?”
“Will,” her voice was still quiet, “that day, I had to ask myself one question: ‘Will I do what the Lord asks of me?’ I knew without a doubt that He wished me to be baptized.” She drew in a breath. “As for knowing He was real, I knew that before I was baptized, but that day I became His. I willneverforget how I felt: whole, clean, forgiven—and like I mattered to God. Like He knew I was there and that He loved me so very much.”
She stopped speaking and brushed away another tear as a sacred silence hung between them.
“Thank you,” he whispered finally, “for sharing with me. I needed to hear it.”
“You’re welcome.” She sighed, and his hand found hers again and gave it a squeeze.
She studied his countenance and could see the drained weariness in his face.
“You desperately need sleep.”
He chuckled. “You are right. Though when I am near you, I seem to forget that point.” He gave a tired smile and stood. “I can’t wait until we can talk again. Soon, I hope.”
“Me too,” she agreed.
“And thank you for helping me feel better.” He looked at his bandage, but all she could think of was the way his kiss felt on her cheek.
He bowed slightly, then turned and walked toward his cabin. When the door shut, she remained in her seat. She couldn’t believe she’d just shared so much of her experience with him. She hoped his questions meant he wanted to believe in God. Sharing had felt like the right thing to do. He seemed like he desired—and maybe evenneeded—to hear it, and certainly in her case, she needed to tell it again. To remind herself that her belief was more than her doubt.
That God always had, and still did, love her.
Chapter 24
March 26, 1854
33 days at sea
Inside their cabin, Ann straightened little Cyrus’s coat in preparation to attend the Sunday service on deck. When she finished, Job ushered the boy toward the door, and Adelaide rose from the bed. She patted her bun and drew near to Ann. “I’m worried about you taking care of Cyrus now that you are in the sick bay. Maybe let Mother, Job, and I take over that responsibility for now.”
Ann stiffened. She loved little Cyrus and wanted to be helpful to the family.
“I ... understand,” Ann whispered. “If the smallpox numbers increase and I am needed more frequently, I’ll figure out a way to stay in an extra bunk in steerage.”
Though Parliament had mandated giving the smallpox vaccine just two years earlier, people were still suspicious, especially Adelaide. For that reason, Adelaide hadn’t vaccinated Cyrus.
Ann understood her sister’s concern, but it hurt to not be wanted.
Adelaide acknowledged her thanks with a small smile and a hand on Ann’s shoulder. Once she left with Cyrus and Job, Ann let out the breath of air she’d been holding.
“She means well,” said Ann’s mother, tying her bonnet under her chin.
“I know. I just feel like I do everything wrong around her on this voyage. I want to be helpful, but sometimes I doubt—” She caught herself. Her mother didn’t need to carry Ann’s burdens too. “Nevermind.”
Her mother dipped her head and caught Ann’s gaze. She brought one arm around Ann’s shoulder. “It’s all right if you aren’t feeling strong right now.”
“But you are always strong.” The words tumbled from Ann’s lips.
