He must visit the captain soon, but he could spare time for a conversation.
“Even despite all your hard work in the sick bay, you’re still coming above deck instead of sleeping?”
She met his gaze, eyes wide with surprise. “I just left little Rhuben Davies. He joined his brother in the sick bay today. Breaks my heart to see how smallpox has ravaged those sweet lads.”
“I would have thought nothing could stop those energetic boys.” He sighed. “I’m sure they will pull through.”
“I pray that is the case. Levi is very lethargic, and I worry Rhuben will end up the same way.”
Will didn’t miss the anguish in her voice. “I’m so sorry to hear it. How ... are you holding up, Ann?”
For a long moment she stared at the sea and then back at him. “Twenty so far have contracted the disease, and right now we have fifteen people working through it.” She sighed. “Sometimes things get so wearisome down there ...”
He didn’t adjust his gaze, noting the visible pain in her eyes. “I believe it.”
“And you—” Her intent eyes caused his heart to scud against his chest. “Have you just finished a watch?”
“Yes, I was on my way below but was waylaid admiring the sky. It is my favorite at night.”
“Truly? I bemoan the spent daylight I’ve missed. Do you prefer the night over the day?”
He pursed his lips. “In a way. The day has no directional help but the sun, and one can often lose course. At night there are so many stars to guide you; stars are consistent, a roadmap for one’s direction.”
She sighed, mulling over his words. “Perhaps there is a great lesson in that—” She tapped one finger against her lips. “Even a little bit of light, well-placed, can guide one to where they need to be.”
Will couldn’t restrain himself from putting one hand over hers on the rail. “I have never heard anyone express it so perfectly.”
“I suppose your miraculous healing has caused me to reflect.” She didn’t draw her hand back, and he cherished the quaint feel of her dainty fingers beneath his.
“And what conclusion have you come to, then?”
“That like these constellations, God guides us.” She paused, deep in thought again. “He doesn’t just shine a bright light and tell us what to do. Instead, in the dark He gives flickers of light, and it’s up to us to follow and chart the right course.”
Her words rang with absolute truth. His miraclehadchanged him. He’d felt God’s flickerings within himself, and he never wanted to go back to the man he once was or the lack of belief he once espoused. “I want to chart the right course.”
The wind blew and a bit of Ann’s hair danced toward him. She hastily reached to tame the unruly bits, but Will turned to face her and tucked the hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed her soft cheeks, and his hand rested there for a moment instead of returning to the rail.
“Thank you for your example of great faith, Ann.” He thought he detected the slightest trace of color in her cheeks despite the low light.
“It is nothing.”
He shook his head. “On the contrary, it is everything.”
She smiled softly. “You and your sickness tested me but also strengthened me. I was doubting if coming on this journey was right, but every time God helps me or others through a trial, I feel my faith growing and my doubts fading.”
“Ann,” he replied, with a heightening awareness of her proximity. “I amverygrateful you came on this voyage.”
Her eyebrows rose, and then her eyes drew down as though she remembered something. “If you had just finished a watch, how did you manage to come around the back?”
“I may have noticed you and changed my course a little.”
“I see.” She went quiet. “So you really have been charting and changing courses tonight.”
He chuckled.
He could feel the folds of her skirt push against his trousers. Her beautiful eyes poured a depth of feeling into his own, and he found it hard to look away. After a moment he couldn’t help but draw nearer.
Concerned eyes met his own. “We aren’t in our own little corner of the sick bay, Mr. Boyd.”
