Aboard Providence

by Keely Brooke Keith

  Olivia didn’t notice. She would have been sympathetic if Marian complained, but it was only a splinter. Marian dare not sin by complaining. She kept silent and picked at the wooden shard.

  Olivia pushed the stray hair out of her face and continued moving the jumbled mass of the group’s possessions. “Our parents’ plan is good. All of my father’s kin went out West to claim land in the Oregon Territory. Father wants to settle land too, but he likes the idea of crossing the sea instead of the plains. He believes God wants our family to go with yours and the others to the new settlement.”

  Marian almost forgot about her splinter. “I’m glad you’re coming. I can’t imagine sailing away without you.”

  “Me either.” Olivia glanced up, flashed a smile, and went back to moving boxes. “I’ll get to help my mother start the new school.”

  “A change in scenery is like a promise of new life for me. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this adventure.”

  “And with fifty-six people aboard the ship,” Olivia continued unabated, “we will probably be thankful to have a second doctor with us.”

  “Jonah isn’t a doctor yet.”

  “Near enough.”

  Marian picked up her cup and poked her throbbing fingertip into the steaming tea. Instant relief. “There are fifty-seven of us—you keep forgetting Mr. Weathermon.”

  “I suppose that’s because he isn’t part of the church.”

  “Fifty-eight if you count the ship’s captain.”

  Olivia crinkled the flawless skin of her forehead. “I don’t. He isn’t staying with the settlement.”

  Ben chased the Cotters’ two youngest children through the veranda. They yelled as they tried to escape him and ran between the trunks and crates. Marian began to scold her young brother, but he disappeared behind a stack of boxes.

  When a hatbox slid from the top of a leaning luggage pile, Olivia flicked her hand at the children, shooing them away. “Go play outside or I’ll give you more arithmetic to keep you busy!”

  The children fled the house, and Olivia laughed. “My mother says between the eight families there will be forty children aboard the ship. We plan to continue their schooling to keep them occupied. You can’t send bored children outside to play when you’re on a schooner.”

  Marian inspected her splinter. “How big is it?”

  “Is what?”

  “The schooner.”

  “You’ve seen schooners in the harbor before.”

  “But I’ve never been on one.”

  “Nor have I.” Olivia stopped shuffling luggage and brushed her hands together. “It will be bigger than this veranda, I promise you that.”

  “Don’t let the number of children worry you. Not all of the forty children are actually children. The elders are counting all unmarried people as children. You and I are no longer children—nor are Peggy or Gabriel or Henry. The five of us are eighteen.”

  “No, Gabriel is nineteen.”

  “They should stop referring to us as children. Besides, the youngest of the actual children just turned five, so there won’t be any babies aboard the ship.”

  Olivia raised a thin finger. “Unless your mother goes into labor.”

  The thought filled Marian with dread. She swallowed hard. “Mother isn’t due until February. We won’t be at sea that long. We’re going to South America not to the South Pole.”

  “You wouldn’t know by the barrels of salt pork Mr. Roberts had delivered yesterday. He had his entire drove slaughtered so the whole settlement will have meat for three months. I’m not sure I could eat salt pork for three months.”

  “Nor I. My father sold all but twenty of his sheep. He said that will be plenty to start a new herd in the settlement. You should see the bundles of wool stacked in the barn. Cecelia and I have to spin all that since Mother needs to rest more.” Marian swirled her finger in the tea again then she drew it out. “That actually worked!”

  “Hm?”

  Marian dabbed her finger on her skirt and then examined her red fingertip. “Something in the tea soothed the pain.” She tried to pull the splinter out, but it still wouldn’t budge. She would experiment more with the tea later to determine its pain relieving properties.

  Olivia brushed dust from her skirt. “I’m glad you found some use for that noxious drink. Now, help me with these boxes.”

  Marian returned the teacup to the trunk’s lid, holding her hand at an awkward angle as not to push the splinter farther under her fingernail. She bent to lift a box from the floor but stopped when the sounds of wheels and hoofbeats rumbled the veranda windows. She dashed to the front of the room and peeked out between the lace curtains, hoping to see Jonah Ashton. “It’s the stagecoach!”

  Olivia dropped a box and sprang toward the window. “It’s Jonah and an old man.”

  “That would be Mr. Weathermon, Doctor Ashton’s friend. He owns the ship.”

  Olivia’s breath steamed the window glass as she spoke. “I don’t remember Jonah being so…”

  “So what?”

  “I don’t know… handsome.”

  Marian looked through her reflection in the veranda window and watched as Jonah stepped down from the stagecoach. He was gripping a bag in each hand and wore a green scarf tucked inside his collar but no hat. The wind caught his brown hair and blew it across his forehead.

  Mr. Weathermon said something to him and he laughed. Then as people flooded from the house to greet them, his smile disappeared. His five-year-old sister, Sarah, ran to him. She furled her arms around him and buried her head into his coat. He bent and kissed the top of her head.

  Somehow he seemed both the same as he had when he sat behind Marian in the one-room schoolhouse years ago and also completely different. A dapper refinement announced he was every bit the college man from the city. In one heartbeat Marian wanted both to be him and to be with him. She stepped away from the window. “I wouldn’t call Jonah Ashton handsome.”

  “You are lying.” Olivia laughed, her long black lashes fluttering. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the elders what a sinner you truly are.”

  “Shh.” Marian glanced behind them. “You must not joke like that. And you’d better hope Gabriel doesn’t hear you drooling over another boy. He might get jealous.”

  “I’m not drooling and they aren’t boys—not anymore. Besides, Gabriel and I aren’t courting. He hasn’t even asked me.”

  “Only because you haven’t given him any indication that you like him.”

  “I’m not sure that I do—not like that anyway. I’m not going to partner up and procreate simply because we are building a settlement. There will be too much work to be done for me to worry about a husband and babies.”

  “You’re too practical for your own good.” Marian looked back outside, but it wasn’t satisfying; she wanted to see Jonah in person. More than that, she wanted him to see her. She moved away from the window. “I’ll be right back.”

  Olivia dropped the curtain. “Where are you going?”

  “Outside to greet them, of course.” She skirted a stack of boxes and hurried to the porch, smoothing the ribbing of her jay blue dress as she walked.

  The late afternoon sun, obscured by clouds, made the air too cool for comfort. Marian wished she had grabbed her shawl on her way outside, but her curiosity drove her down the porch steps to the crowd gathering around Jonah and Mr. Weathermon.

  The stagecoach driver was already pulling away, directing his team of four horses toward the bridge that connected Chincoteague Island to the peninsula.

  Olivia caught up to Marian and whispered, “Look at Peggy.”

  Marian glanced at the only other single woman in the group besides her and Olivia. Peggy Cotter was smiling coyly at Jonah and trying to squeeze around little Sarah Ashton to get to him. The acidic burn of jealousy pulled at Marian’s insides and reminded her of their school years. Even Henry Roberts was staring at Peggy with his usual pout of longing.

  She wanted to jump thro
ugh the crowd and physically pull Peggy away from Jonah. Marian shielded her mouth with her hand and whispered to Olivia, “Poor Henry.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “More like poor Jonah. He barely stepped out of the coach and Peggy is already pawing at him.”

  Peggy’s dimples dotted her pretty cheeks as she tried to take Jonah’s arm. He brushed her off like dandruff and turned his attention to his little sister.

  Marian chuckled. “He remembers how to handle Peggy.”

  “You girls shouldn’t whisper,” Marian’s mother whispered from behind them. “It is rude for young ladies to whisper and sinful if your whispers are gossip.”

  Olivia tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sorry, Mrs. Foster.”

  Marian glanced back at her mother, who stood rubbing one hand over the high bump of her pregnant belly. After three healthy children and three stillbirths, Catherine Foster clung to every moment of pregnancy with a grief-torn passion that made Marian’s throat tight. If this baby did not survive, her mother might not survive the grief. No amount of encouraging words would help her mother if she had more children dead than alive.

  Marian quickly looked back through the crowd at Jonah, and felt hopeful again.

  Mr. Weathermon waved a hand to address the group. “Good afternoon. This is quite the welcome party, but the introductions will have to wait. Captain Frakes should have the ship in harbor by now, so if you will direct us to Doctor Ashton, we men must meet with the captain before sunset.”

  “Charles!” Anna swirled through the crowd and greeted Mr. Weathermon, smiling. Though over forty, Anna looked young standing next to Mr. Weathermon. She gave his arm a feminine pat then pointed at the tallest of the property’s outbuildings. “Joseph is with Reverend Colburn in the barn.”

  Marian whispered to Olivia, “I want to go with them to see the ship.”

  “You heard Mr. Weathermon—only the men are going.”

  “I’m going to follow them.” Marian barely got the words out when she felt a pinch on the back of her arm.

  “You will do no such thing,” her mother scolded. “It would be unladylike.”

  Mr. Weathermon and Jonah began walking toward the barn. Olivia stepped back into the house with the other women and children. Marian crossed her cold arms and watched the men’s boots as they trudged through the fallen leaves toward the Ashtons’ barn. Jonah glanced back and his gaze settled on her for a moment. She grinned, longing for connection, but he looked away without returning the gesture.

  “Where are Cecelia and Benjamin?” Catherine said, covering her abdomen with both hands.

  “Cecelia is upstairs. I’m not sure where Ben is, but he’s been terrifying the little girls by telling them we will be attacked by pirates at sea.”

  “Pirates? That boy! What am I going to do with him?” Catherine clicked her tongue. “Come inside, love. It is too cold out here for ladies.”

  “I want to go see the ship.”

  “You’re a grown woman now and when your curiosity overwhelms your manners, I can no longer excuse it by saying you’re a curious child. Just come inside, please.”

  “I hope I never outgrow my curiosity. I want to know what it looks like below deck of the schooner. I want to stand on the bow of the ship and feel the wind blow over me. I want to touch the boom and the rigging and the ship’s wheel and look through the telescope out to sea.”

  Catherine sighed. “There will be plenty of time for that. We will probably be on the ship for three weeks. I can hardly think of it without getting queasy.”

  The romantic seafaring images Marian had conjured were shattered by fear for her mother’s health. She put her hand to Catherine’s back and walked her toward the house. “Don’t think about the voyage, Mother. Only think of the new land and how pleasant it will be to build a new settlement with our family and friends.”

  Chapter Three

  Jonah buttoned his coat collar as he walked beside Mr. Weathermon toward the barn. He glanced back at the house once more; the house itself was unchanged since he last visited, but everything else seemed different—everyone else. Sarah had grown six inches, and his mother had gray hair at her temples. Children he last saw when they were babies were now old enough to help carry luggage. Catherine Foster was pregnant again, and Marian Foster had certainly grown into a pretty young woman.

  The gold of Marian’s hair struck a contrast against the gray of the afternoon light. Jonah stared longer than he intended, captivated by the feeling he had seen her in this way and in this light before—perhaps in a dream. The vague memory could not be real; he hadn’t seen her in years. And even though they had never been close as schoolmates, he felt like he knew her completely and barely knew himself.

  It was irrational.

  Maybe the lack of sleep from traveling all night was affecting his mind. No matter the cause, the illogical sensation frustrated him. He was here to say goodbye—not to get involved.

  He tucked his scarf into his collar and tried to corral his thoughts as he walked beside Mr. Weathermon across the yard. At last he was able to peel his gaze away from Marian Foster, but he thought of little else until his father and Reverend Colburn stepped out of the barn.

  “My son!” Doctor Ashton embraced Jonah and patted his back with hearty thuds. He pulled back but held onto Jonah’s lapels for a moment, studying him. “Oh, we are in for an extraordinary adventure. Can you believe it? Finally we get to sail away to settle new land, just like we dreamed about when you were a boy.”

  Though stirred by his father’s excitement, Jonah didn’t share the dream anymore. He swallowed the guilt that rose in his throat. “I need to speak with you about something.”

  “I can’t wait until you see the ship. She’s a majestic sight.” Doctor Ashton gave him a fatherly glance from head to toe. White whiskers interspersed with the brown in his beard and framed his broad smile. “I’ve only seen the Providence once and that was when she was in the Port of Wilmington in fifty-six. I’m anxious to get to the harbor and have a look up close.”

  “Yes, Father, I’m sure the ship is impressive, but I must tell you—”

  “Charles Weathermon.” The older man interrupted, thrusting out his hand to Reverend Colburn. The reverend reciprocated the introduction, courteously, but both men eyed each other the way bulls do through a fence.

  Doctor Ashton turned his attention to the reverend and Mr. Weathermon, making Jonah feel like a child. He straightened his coat cuffs along the seam of his shirt cuffs while waiting for his father’s attention, but his thoughts drifted to Marian. What had she done since finishing school? What kind of woman had she grown into? He couldn’t let it matter; he had one purpose for this visit.

  Doctor Ashton palmed Mr. Weathermon’s shoulder and put his hand to Reverend Colburn’s back as if proving his neutrality between the two men. He looked at Mr. Weathermon. “William is the minister of the church in Northern Accomack. Most of the people of this county have headed out West. But Reverend Colburn came to me with the idea of forming a new settlement in a new land with the eight remaining families from the church. He’s the one who organized this entire endeavor. You’ll find him quite adept in his position of leadership and zealous for establishing a peaceful, God-fearing colony.”

  Reverend Colburn bowed his head slightly as if humbled by Doctor Ashton’s approbation.

  Mr. Weathermon looked down his nose at the reverend, unimpressed. He turned his chin toward Doctor Ashton. “So you told me, Joseph, when you asked for the ship.” Then he said to Reverend Colburn, “Excuse my bluntness Mr. Colburn, but I joined this endeavor for the thrill of adventure and for a quiet retirement. I have no intention of becoming subject to any man’s new colony. I’m sure you are adept at shepherding your flock, but I’m not a sheep.” He slipped his fingers into his vest pocket, produced a gold watch, and cleared his throat as he read it. “Captain Frakes would have reached the mooring at the harbor by now. We should go and inspect my ship, gentlemen.”

  Revere
nd Colburn raised a finger and motioned gently with it as he spoke. “Mr. Weathermon, there are six other men on the council, besides myself and Doctor Ashton. I prefer we all go to the ship together on our first visit.” His voice bore a calming blend of authority and assurance. It reminded Jonah of the long Sunday mornings spent in the chapel during his youth. The memory was both comforting and confining.

  “Council?” Mr. Weathermon chuckled. “I didn’t realize you all had organized a governing body already.”

  Reverend Colburn replied with confidence, “We believe the inclusion of each family’s elder on all settlement business is necessary in establishing a healthy society. We value unity.”

  Mr. Weathermon puffed out his chest. “Very well, gather your elder council,” he exaggerated the term, mocking its importance, “and bring the men to the harbor. I’m going ahead to take my old friend to meet my captain aboard my ship. Come along, Joseph,” he said to Doctor Ashton as he turned on his heel.

  Doctor Ashton mumbled something to Reverend Colburn in an apologetic tone and followed Mr. Weathermon toward the harbor.

  Jonah glanced between the three men, wondering if Reverend Colburn’s desire for unity could withstand Mr. Weathermon’s commanding presence. He longed for Mr. Weathermon’s jovial nature to return, but the shipping tycoon’s pleasantness was reserved for close friends.

  Feeling no personal need to wait for the other elders, Jonah followed his father and Mr. Weathermon down the path through the scrub on the eastern edge of the barn. He reached his hand out to tug on his father’s sleeve and beg him to stop for a moment so he could explain he wasn’t sailing with them to South America, but with a glimpse of the white hair at his father’s sideburns and the creases at the corner of his eyes, Jonah withdrew his hand. He would muster the courage to tell his father goodbye forever and deeply disappoint him, but not yet.