The sailors called this part of the ship the waist, and once she was there, she moved to the edge of the railing and willed herself to keep back the bile rising in her throat. Before her, she saw the higher deck of the forecastle, and behind her was the highest part of the ship, the poop deck, with the helm just in front of it. She clung to the rail and focused on her breathing. She’d already cast up the contents of her stomach twice this morning, and she had no wish for another instance.
The damp ocean air had just filled her lungs when she turned her head to see the surprisingly smiling face of Elizabeth Cherry coming toward her.
“Not got your sea legs, yet?” Elizabeth asked, in a way that made Ann like her more, instead of envying her.
“You could say that.” She attempted a grin. “How do you fare so well?”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I spent weeks on my uncle’s fishing boat every summer as a young girl. I guess I am used to it all.”
“Oh, I see.” Ann studied her friend, who had a new sadness in her eyes at the statement. “So, he stayed behind?”
“More like he and my aunt have gone on ahead, you could say.” She tried to hide a little sigh. “Both have passed; God rest their souls.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
“Thank you. I like to think they’ve been taught the true gospel in heaven. Just like our Prophet’s brother, Alvin.”
Ann gazed out toward the tumbling waves. Her own father had been a harsh man, and since he died, she’d wondered many times how he would have received the messages of love and forgiveness that had so touched Ann’s mother.
“Such beautiful doctrine.” Elizabeth brushed her hair away from her face. “It is fortunate we have so much in common here with an entire company full of Saints, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Ann, noting that the conversation had helped her at least forget her churning stomach for a few moments. “And I am sure you hope that some of these God-fearing men notice the ladies aboard, right?”
“Right!” Elizabeth laughed.
At the same moment, a deeper voice echoed, “Right,” from behind Ann.
Ann swallowed, her eyes going wide as she exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, who was trying to keep from erupting into another laugh.
Stricken with embarrassment, Ann turned on her heel and curtsied to the man before her. He was tall, with a full head of dark blond hair and awide smile. His cheeks possessed a red bite from the cold wind. Ann knew her own cheeks were pink for an entirely different reason.
“I don’t wish to seem untoward, but I couldn’t help but overhear the last bit of your conversation as I was walking this way, and my unpredictable mouth took initiative before my head could tell it to stop.”
“I see,” said Ann, twisting back to grasp Elizabeth’s arm and pull her in line with herself. If they were to be meeting gentlemen without any introduction, she needed a companion at her side. Fortified by her friend, Ann decided to be bold. “So are you going to introduce yourself, or will you simply add to our conversations uninvited?”
His eyes went wide for a moment, but he attempted to collect himself. “Right.”
Ann raised one brow. “I trust you know more words thanright?”
The man grinned, appreciating the humor. “Thatishow I started before, but, yes, I am Brother Thomas Wheatley, from the Worcestershire Conference.” Brother Wheatley promptly swooped one hand across his middle and bowed.
“Well then, Brother Wheatley,” Ann gave a small demi-curtsy, “I am Sister Ann Fowles, from Hemel Hempstead.” She looked at her friend, whose eyes still registered shock. “And this is my esteemed friend, Sister Elizabeth Cherry from Bedford, near York.”
“Pleased to meet you both.”
The wind gusted as a few of the crewmen sidled up behind Brother Wheatley, large ropes over their arms. “If you all insist on jawin’ the whole morning, perhaps you could do so without takin’ up so much of the deck,” one said.
“Yeah, move aside,” another called.
“Our apologies,” replied Brother Wheatley, taking a step toward the women so that the three of them could move to the outside edge of the deck and hug the rail. Three thin but muscular seamen maneuvered around them, and one scrambled up the yardarms.
Brother Wheatley raised his eyebrows high with a bit of annoyance but continued the conversation, asking Ann and then Elizabeth questions respectively. Over his shoulder, Ann noticed that Mr. Boyd, who’d helped her at the gangplank, darted around the poop deck, talking with various sailors.
“Tighten the sails,” she heard him call. “And all passengers should return to their cabins or go below deck.”
That was when Ann noticed the huge black clouds in the distance, just above Brother Wheatley’s head.
As though the first mate were a veritable prophet, heavy droplets of water started to fall from the sky. Suddenly Ann could almost taste the salt in the air. A few of the crew started scurrying about, and Brother Wheatley cleared his throat.
