Elizabeth shook her head and shrugged. “That’s just it. There’s not. But I feel like when that man comes—in my future—I’ll have a feeling about it, you know?”
“I think you will know,” said Ann.
President Garn gestured to the crowd for silence, and Ann turned toward him, her head reeling with Elizabeth’s news.
President Garn spoke of faith, of trusting in God, and of having hope in the Savior, Jesus Christ. The words filled her more amply than food would have, satiating her soul instead of her stomach. God was with them, no matter what happened. Time and again that truth had been reconfirmed.
Toward the end of the sermon, President Garn uttered a challenge. Another merchant vessel had been spotted in the dark hours of last night, which was clearly Mr. Flynn’s news when he’d come for Will.
“I ask that all of us gather once again in prayer that the ship near us is able to spare some provisions.”
As he spoke, the prevalent hunger pains tightened in her gut. As much as she tried to ignore it, without more food they would never survive.
He continued speaking, and Ann felt the presence of someone behind her. With a slight tilt of her head, she glanced to the left and recognized the tall form of Will. It seemed he had just finished his watch, which must have been why he wasn’t with the other officers earlier.
His closeness sent a frisson of awareness through her nerves, and for one brief moment, disguised by the crush of the crowd, she felt his hand take hers and squeeze. Immediate warmth, comfort, and reassurance spread throughout her. She didn’t understand how he could make her feel that way when she was still unsure of his beliefs.
All the while his eyes were riveted on President Garn, as though he were really listening to what the man had to say. Ann wished so badly that she understood what Will believed regarding God and a higher power.
“Now,” President Garn concluded, “a boat will be rowing over to the other ship soon. We must pray until the mates return. We must also pray formore favorable winds. Will you gather with me to combine our prayers on their behalf?”
The hundreds of people on deck bowed their heads. President Garn removed his hat and began to pray. As it started, Will again took her hand, interlocking their fingers. Was she imagining the way he seemed to care about the prayer? Of course, he’d be one of the men going out again to ask for food, so he’d want things to go well.
Yet as the words of the prayer continued, Ann wondered if she felt something more between them. A shared purpose for the first time.
It almost felt like she and Will had united their faith.
Will could hear the cheers well before the rowboat was close enough to be lifted into the ship. He wondered, as he, Crenshaw, Jack, and Wilson drew closer, if Ann was watching from the deck, or if she’d dutifully gone back to the sick bay. He wondered, too, if anyone had noticed the way he’d discreetly brushed at the tears in his eyes. The provisions they had just obtained had been nothing short of a miracle, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t attribute the success of it to the fervent prayers of the people on this ship. They still had many days to sail, but the load of dried meat and biscuits at his feet meant that they wouldn’t starve.
By the time they secured the rowboat to the side of the ship and unloaded the sacks of food, people had gathered and a few of the fiddlers had returned. An overwhelming sense of celebration permeated the deck, and from the corner of his eye, Will spotted Ann. She gave him a broad smile and shook her head in an impressed way, as though she approved of his work. If only she knew just how much her positive appraisal filled him with a desire to be better—to be the best man he could—for her.
“I will report to the captain,” Will said, coming back to his duties. “But I agree with the musicians, celebration is in order! All sailors have permission to join in the dancing for the next half hour.”
The captain stood at the helm instead of Stevens, once again directing the ship since they’d been near another vessel.
“Well done,” he said, as Will approached.
“I wish I could take the credit, sir, but it was the good will of the other ship and the providence of God that smiled upon us.”
“I can’t say I disagree on either count.” Captain Fairfield drew a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking, Boyd. I’ve been impressed with your morale, leadership, and hard work these past few days, even more than I usually am. When we get to port, I want to take the necessary steps to give you the captaincy.”
Will rocked back on the heel of his boot. He hadn’t expected the captain to make that decision yet, let alone come out and say it right here on the deck. “Sir, I am honored. There are others who are just as deserving—”
“I want it to be you.”
Will swallowed. A few particulars circled in his mind, one especially that he needed to address. “I will accept, captain, but I have one concern I’d like to bring up.”
The captain lifted a broad eyebrow.
“I think I’d be a better captain if I found myself a wife. Marriage would give me some grounding and provide additional motivation to always return home safely.”
Will glanced out to the horizon, but he wondered if he saw a sly smile pull on one side of the captain’s mouth.
“Sir—are you mocking me?” Will turned toward him.
“Not at all, son. I’ve been wondering when you were going to fight for her.”
“Sir—”
