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Queen of the Waves

Page 22

by Janice Thompson


  “It will take time to heal,” Jessie added. “But promise me you will ask God to show you how.”

  Tessa offered a slow nod, knowing such a thing would be difficult at best. Still, the idea of having a father—in heaven or on earth—offer her such an embrace seemed almost too good to be true.

  Jessie gave her a playful nudge. “Here’s what I’m going to pray. I’m going to pray that the Lord sends you a husband who will show you what a real father looks like, a man who will adore you and treat you kindly. One who will love your children as they deserve to be loved and who will never abuse his authority.”

  The idea sent Tessa’s thoughts reeling. “W–why do you care so much about me?” she asked.

  “I care because God cares. He sent me to you to share His message of love so that you would know what a treasure you are to Him.” Jessie reached inside her reticule and came out with a lace-trimmed handkerchief, which she used to blot Tessa’s eyes. “You are, you know? A treasure, I mean. More valuable to Him than any of the jewels you own.” A light giggle followed as she pointed to the broach on Tessa’s coat. “Though, I must say, that diamond broach is something to behold.”

  “Yes.” Her hands covered it, shame settling over Tessa like a cloud. “It’s lovely.” And worth more money than I could make in a dozen years.

  “Lovely is the right word. But I promise, you are lovelier still. And you’re more valuable to the Lord than all the diamonds in the world.”

  “Valuable.” The word made no sense.

  “Yes, and think of this, Jacquie. It took thousands of years to refine those diamonds. Thousands. God can take a hard heart—harder than those diamonds—and polish them up and smooth them out in no time at all. If you let Him, I mean. It’s a matter of being willing.”

  Willing.

  Not a word Tessa spoke very often. She understood the idea of bending the knee because she had no other choice. But to bend the knee willingly? Out of love for a God she had, until now, deliberately stayed away from? She shivered.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve kept you too long.” Jessie smiled and patted her on the arm. “Please forgive me. I do go on at times.”

  “No, please don’t apologize. I’ve enjoyed our conversation immensely.” Tessa felt peace well up inside of her, and she found herself reaching to give her new friend a hug. “You are a dear girl. Don’t ever forget it.”

  “If there is anything dear in me, it comes from Above, trust me.” Jessie laughed. “You don’t know the rapscallion I was as a child.”

  “Hard to picture.”

  “Oh, I was. But God is gracious. Forgiving.” She began to sing a haunting little song, something about God hiding her sin in the depths of the sea.

  Hiding my sin?

  A shiver ran through Tessa. She had much to hide, after all.

  “I’ve decided that keeping things hidden is for the birds,” Jessie said and then chuckled. “Let it all be out in the open—wide for all to see.”

  In that moment, Tessa knew what she must do. She had to relieve herself of the guilt of holding onto a lie. Of pretending to be someone she was not.

  I’m not Jacquie Abingdon. I never will be.

  She would start by telling Jessie. And then, as soon as an opportunity presented itself, she would tell Nathan too. Doing so would surely put an end to any possibility of romance, but she could not pretend one moment longer. To keep on pretending would put her at a far worse peril than the frigid waters of the Atlantic.

  Through the glass in the dining room door, Nathan caught a glimpse of Jacquie, dressed in her Sunday finest and seated next to Jessie, the young woman they’d met only yesterday. Usually stoic, Jacquie now had tears streaming down her face. He had noticed her during service, of course, but hadn’t felt led to approach her. Now he found himself relieved that her new friend had taken time to comfort her, though he longed with every fiber of his being to be the one to do so.

  Still, the timing was not right. He could sense it in his gut. Feel it in his heart.

  All night he had wrestled with his feelings for Jacquie. He longed to speak to her, to tell her about the emotions stirring within him. But something stopped him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something didn’t feel right, and her current emotional state only confirmed that.

  Nathan’s mother drew near and peered through the glass. “Everything all right in there?”

  “I think so.”

  “She’s a nice girl, but rather peculiar, I must say.” Mother fussed with her gloves. “Doesn’t seem to know her station.”

  “Her station?” Nathan released a sigh.

  “Yes. She allows her lady’s maid to speak to her as a commoner. Though, I must say, Edith Russell is smitten with her, and that has me intrigued. What a pair those two are. Very, very odd.” She walked off, muttering to herself.

  Nathan decided to take a walk to clear his head. He took the elevator to the Boat Deck and shivered when he stepped outside. The temperature had dipped. He pulled his coat tighter and walked to the railing on the starboard side of the ship, where he paused for a glimpse out at the Atlantic. Another shiver grabbed hold of him and held him in its grip.

  To his right, a little girl’s chatter in an unknown tongue caught his attention. He glanced over to look at the youngster. He recognized her as the same little girl he had seen on the deck that first day, the one with the dark curls who had danced her way into her father’s arms.

  Today was no different. The child’s father swooped her up into his arms and held her close, then danced with her, a happy, jovial dance across the deck. The little girl’s laughter rang out, and then she hugged her papa’s neck. Her father responded by planting kisses in her hair and fussing over her in that strange, unfamiliar language. Nathan found it all captivating.

  The little girl hopped out of her father’s arms and grabbed his hands. Her daddy called out, “Manca!” which Nathan could only guess to be her name. The youngster’s deep brown eyes sparkled with life and laughter, her giggles ringing through the air.

  Something about the exchange touched Nathan’s heart deeply. Though he couldn’t bear the idea of saying good-bye to Jacquie, of seeing this journey come to an end, he longed to wrap his father in a tight bear hug and join him in the family’s business. If only he could ask time to stand still for just a moment. Then perhaps he could straddle the Atlantic, one foot on deck and the other firmly planted on the shores of New York, where opportunities abounded.

  Iris spent the afternoon working on her sketches, the ideas flowing as fast as the water from the indoor plumbing. How so many ideas could come at once remained a mystery, but she did not fight the process. Instead, she gave herself over to it, happy to wile away the hours doing the thing she loved most. Tonight she would meet with Edith Russell. Her future would be set.

  Until then, she simply needed to finish what she’d started.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sunday Night, April 14, 1912

  Aboard the Titanic

  When the sun went down on Sunday evening, the temperatures plummeted. In spite of this, several of Titanic’s passengers braved the cold night air out on the deck to witness a marvelous sunset with John Harper. Tessa stood next to Jessie, who commented on the brilliant colors as they faded from deep amber to a murky red-orange and then to a soft pink-blue. As the bits of light slipped off the horizon to the west, the good reverend slipped his arm over Jessie’s shoulder and smiled. “Time for evening prayers and Bible reading.”

  Jessie nodded then turned to give Tessa a hug. “See you in the morning?”

  “Yes, but I’m awfully tired. I hope to sleep in.” So many wonderful things had happened today. And now that Jessie knew her secret—knew she was really Tessa, not Jacquie—she felt sure she could sleep like a baby.

  The reverend offered her a gracious smile then gestured to the now-darkened skies. “It will be beautiful in the morning.”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt.”

  Tessa decided that a
cup of hot chocolate was in order. She headed inside to the Café Parisien, where she sipped on the warm, creamy liquid, finally feeling the evening’s chill lift. Lost in her thoughts about the blissful day, over an hour went by. Though sleepy, she decided one more stroll around the Boat Deck was in order before retiring to her room.

  Tessa wrapped her scarf a bit tighter around her neck and headed off. Halfway down the Boat Deck, she paused to gaze over the railing and caught a glimpse of slushy mounds of ice in the water below. They billowed like little white clouds, fluffy and harmless, bits of white cotton on a sea of water as black as night. The little mounds captivated her, held her spellbound for some time.

  Until the shivering began in earnest. Perhaps she should go back inside now, back to the warmth of her cabin. Yes, she would wait up for Iris so that she could hear the details of her meeting with Miss Russell.

  Tessa pressed her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat and took a few rapid steps toward the stairwell. The man she recognized as Mr. Bruce Ismay approached, dressed in a deep blue suit but no overcoat, in spite of the cold nip in the air. He leaned against the railing and glanced her way. “Is your journey going well? Are you comfortable?”

  “Oh, very, sir.” Tessa nodded and smiled. “Thank you so much for asking.”

  “My pleasure.” He tipped his hat before she headed off toward the stairs.

  Just before she reached the steps, Tessa heard a familiar voice ring out from behind her. “I thought I just might find you here.”

  She turned to see Nathan, and her heart sailed to her throat. Though she had hoped to put off talking with him until tomorrow, here he stood, with a smile as broad as the Atlantic on his face.

  “Happy to see me?” he asked as he took a few steps in her direction.

  “Yes.” She swallowed hard, realizing the moment had come for revealing her secret. “I’ve been wondering about you. Did you have a good day?”

  “Very relaxing. And this evening has been nice. I went to the hymn-sing in the second-class dining saloon.”

  “And how was that?”

  “Nice.” He began to hum an unfamiliar song and before long took to singing, “‘For those in peril on the sea.’”

  “I gave some thought to going to one of the concerts in the reception room but decided against it. It’s been an exhausting day.”

  “You’ve been on my mind all day.” He drew near and extended his hand. She tentatively slipped her fingers through his, loving the comfort they brought. “Are you all right?”

  “All right?”

  “Yes. I don’t mean to pry, but I saw you with Jessie earlier. You were crying. I just wanted to check on you.”

  Their hands still clasped, he led the way to the side, where they joined two other couples in gazing out over the railing at the sky above. She glanced up, taking in the brilliant twinkling of stars, which dotted the night with electrifying beauty.

  “I’m fine.” Of course, this feeling would probably slip away once she told him the truth. Tessa swallowed the lump in her throat and continued to gaze upward.

  Nathan gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and then glanced up at the sky. “I’ve seen the stars a thousand times, but never like this,” he said. “I only wish I had a telescope. Then I could really see them in their full splendor.”

  “I prefer to see them from a distance,” Tessa said. Then she sighed. “The whole thing reminds me of a painting I once saw. It’s as if the canopy of clouds rolled back and left an inky-black velvet sky covered in sparkling diamonds.” She giggled, feeling a little giddy as the words rolled off her tongue. “Do you find that silly?”

  “Not exactly how I might’ve described it, mind you, but I do find it beautiful.”

  “Oh, it is beautiful, isn’t it? Strange, how the sky never looked this perfect from the farm.”

  “The farm?”

  Her heart quickened, and she fought to think clearly. How could she repair this slip of the tongue? Perhaps she didn’t need to. Maybe she should just open up and tell him the truth. She would start by sharing about her home. “Well, I…yes. Our family owns a farm. It’s a lovely place.” Lovely might be a stretch, but emotion welled up inside her as she thought about the home she now missed with a passion.

  He nodded. “I’ve always wanted to live in the country. It’s hard to see the stars in New York. But in the country, I would imagine you can practically reach out and grab them.”

  “It’s true.” She nodded. “Sometimes I go out to the pasture at night and look up at the stars. They look like candles, lighting the sky.”

  A lovely conversation ensued as they walked together, hand in hand. After some time, a delicious silence grew up between them. They paused and gazed upward once again.

  “It’s a shame the moon isn’t out tonight.”

  “Would have been lovely.” She sighed. “I’ve always wondered what holds it in place.”

  “The Lord. With just a word, He keeps all of creation exactly where He wants it to be.”

  “Like a puppeteer? With a string?” she asked.

  “No. Like an artist, with a paintbrush in hand.”

  As Tessa clutched the railing, the wind ran its graceful fingers through her upswept hair and loosened it into fine ribbons around her face. The smell of saltwater lingered in the air, and she breathed it in. She could almost envision the Lord snatching her sins and tossing them into the roiling waves below.

  Perfect peace settled over her. She longed to wrap it like a blanket around her. But first, she must relieve herself of the guilt by confessing her shame to Nathan. She would tell him all… and he would help her sort out what could be done about it.

  As she opened her mouth to speak, a cry came from the lookout’s nest above.

  “What’s going on up there?” Nathan glanced up. The sound of a bell ringing three times pierced the air, followed by heated dialogue from above.

  “I don’t know.” She squinted to have a better look but could not make out the figures.

  Seconds later, the ship jolted, and she tumbled toward Nathan. He caught her in his arms—a delicious problem—but the strangest sound took her by surprise.

  A hideous scraping noise, long and grinding, from well below the railing. A tremor from beneath the deck shook her ever so slightly, and in that same moment, shards of ice sprayed the deck. Several fell around them, and she leaped to her right to avoid being hit.

  “W–what was that?” Tessa asked.

  “I’m not sure.” He leaned over the railing alongside several others who appeared just as perplexed as they. Behind them, a mammoth piece of ice hovered over the ship, as if daring them to gaze upon it.

  “Nathan, did we…?” She shook her head, unable to finish the question.

  At once voices began to overlap, as people nearby tried to make sense of what had happened.

  “Just a bump, I daresay,” an older fellow said with the wave of a hand.

  “Yes, nothing to fear, folks,” one of the crew members called out. “A little berg won’t get in Titanic’s way. She’ll show it who’s who and what’s what.” A round of laughter followed from all. A couple of the men picked up the shards of ice and tossed them to and fro like balls.

  “Who’s on first, fellas?” one of the men called out and then laughed.

  Tessa relaxed and allowed Nathan to slip his arms around her once again. Off in the distance, Mr. and Mrs. Astor strolled by, hand in hand. They paused to speak to another man but seemed content with the explanation that Titanic was in no danger from the little scrape with the pesky berg.

  “What were you about to say?” Nathan pushed a loose hair out of her eyes.

  Her heart quickened. “I wanted to tell you something that’s been troubling me, Nathan. But I think you’d better sit down.” Tessa gestured to a deck chair, and he sank into it as she took the spot next to him, ready to unveil her sin once and for all.

  Nathan listened in silence as Jacquie shared her story. Only, she wasn’t really Jac
quie, was she? Still, nothing about this made sense. Surely she teased him with this far-fetched tale about her so-called pretense. Yes, Jacquie had quite the imagination and used it even now to draw him in.

  On the other hand, the concern in her eyes conveyed such pain, such emotion…

  He trembled, half from the cold and half from the realization that she’d played him for a fool over the past few days.

  “You’re not making this up?” he asked after she finished her lengthy explanation. He gazed at her tear-streaked face under a starlit sky and prayed she would laugh. Tell him she’d made it all up as some sort of a game. Instead, she shook her head, tears now falling in rapid succession.

  “No, Nathan. I–I’m not. Every word I’ve just spoken is true. And I’m so awfully sorry that I—”

  She stopped mid-sentence as several crewmen rushed by.

  In that moment, a half-dozen things happened at once. Bruce Ismay lit into a heated conversation with one of the crewmen. Several other men appeared from below, and the words “taking on water” rang out. Nathan shook his head, looking back and forth between the men and Jacquie—Tessa—to make sense of it all. Only when he heard the words “Prepare to evacuate!” did the whole thing begin to feel like a horrible nightmare.

  Monday Morning, April 15, 1912, 12:05 a.m.

  Aboard the Titanic

  Iris sat across the table from Edith Russell in the Verandah Cafe and attempted to focus. All around them, their fellow passengers spoke in animated voices, many speculating about the strange scraping sound they’d heard earlier and the odd tremor they now felt. Then, as the ship slowed, as the brakes sounded and everything drew still, she realized they must be in some sort of trouble.

  Still, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything right now except the conversation she’d just had with Edith. Hours of blissful chatter about fashion had led to the job offer of a lifetime, one she could still scarcely believe. What a perfect way to end her evening.

 

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