I clutched the edges of my blanket as I, too, leaned forward, excited by his enthusiasm to learn about my lives. There was something freeing about telling him and Lewis the truth about my existence. I had always known it was a burden too difficult to bear alone, but until now, I hadn’t realized how much it helped to talk about it.
“It’s so different than here,” I said, slipping into my accent and turn of phrase I used in 1927. All my life, I’d been careful to speak properly in whatever time I occupied. People looked at me strangely when I misspoke, and I didn’t like drawing unwanted attention or answering questions that would make people suspicious. But now that Marcus knew the truth, I could be myself around him. That, in itself, was the most freeing thing of all. “There are horseless carriages that are powered by motors, and airplanes that fly through the sky, carrying passengers. There are radios and telephones that transmit people’s voices over hundreds or even thousands of miles. And there is no more need for candles and lanterns because wehave electric lighting. We also have running water indoors, with warm baths and showers, just by turning the handle of a faucet.”
Marcus’s face went from curious to disbelieving in a heartbeat, and I realized I probably sounded more insane than before. The differences in my lifestyles from one time to the next were shocking. The advancements that humans had made, even in the past two decades of my life in the 1920s, were astounding.
“People fly in 1927?” he asked me.
I nodded, my voice lowering with disappointment that he had become skeptical. “In machines called airplanes. A man just flew over the Atlantic Ocean, from New York to Paris in thirty-three and a half hours.”
He thought about that for a moment and then said, “And where do you live?”
“Minnesota.”
A frown formed between his eyebrows. “I don’t know Minnesota.”
“It’s at the headwaters of the Mississippi River, in the middle of the North American continent.” In 1727, the land was mostly inhabited by fur traders and Indians, and it had no official name. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him about America, but what would it matter if he knew it all? “In 1776, the American colonies will declare independence from England and there will be a war, which will result in America becoming its own country. Many people will migrate to America and will begin to move west, across the Mississippi River, and fill up the vast land. Eventually, it will be divided into forty-eight states.”
His skepticism increased while his frown deepened. “The colonies will gain independence? England is the strongest nation on Earth. How will that happen?”
“Some say it’s a miracle.” Would Marcus or I live long enough to see it happen? “The world is constantly changing, and history is full of surprises,” I said. “We are all part of God’s story. And He can do what He wills.”
“Aye.” Marcus nodded, his skepticism fading. “That I know. Do you think ’tis His will that you live like this?”
It was my turn to frown. I’d never considered such a thing.
“Mayhap it isn’t a curse after all,” he continued before I could respond, “but a gift from God that only a few are privileged to experience.”
“A gift?” I shook my head, wanting to scoff. “Nay, ’tis not a gift.”
“I would love to see another time and place.” He stood and walked to the window, leaning his forearm against the top of the frame. “To be free of this ship, this life, if only for a day.”
“Why don’t you leave?” I asked, my pulse ticking higher. “Start over?”
“Where would I go?” he asked. “What would I do? I’m a wanted man.”
I broached my suggestion with caution, not knowing how he might respond. “Mayhap if you find your mother, you could rejoin her. Take back your old name.”
He didn’t move as he continued to look out the window at the vast, empty ocean.
“I’ve thought of it on a thousand sleepless nights,” he said, his voice low. “But I can’t face her after what I did. She probably despises me.”
Six bells rang. I would be missed if I didn’t leave now to get the captain’s breakfast. Marcus, too, was expected in the cabin below. But I rose from my cot, still holding the blanket close, and joined him at the window.
“If it was me,” I said, slowly, cautiously—but with certainty, “I would not care what separated us, whether you had left against your will or of your own choosing. I would want to see you again, to know that you were alive and well.” My voice dipped, though I tried to steady it. “To lay my eyes upon you, if only one more time.”
Marcus slowly turned away from the window, his intense gaze searching mine. He was so much taller than me, but it was not his height nor his breadth that made me feel defenseless in his presence.
It was the fire I saw behind his eyes, the intelligence and desire for something more than what he had. It was the same desire I held, both here and in 1927. To live a life of my own choosing—not the ones chosen for me.
I wanted to return to his embrace, but I backed up, feeling like I had laid bare my heart, though unintentionally. “I must get breakfast.”
I quickly turned away from him and lowered the blanket onto the cot, then put on my vest, shoes, and hat before escaping from his cabin.
If I wasn’t careful, I would reveal my heart to Marcus and then I would be powerless.
But it wasn’t the fear of revelation that scared me the most. It was the fear that even if he did return my affection, I couldn’t accept it.
I hurried to the galley and found that breakfast was still waiting for me.
