Reverend Hillerman had managed to go up on deck, and Jonah tried to climb out of his hammock to find the chamber pot. He fell back into the rope webbing and groaned. Several crewmen came down the hatchway to the crew cabin, laughing and cursing. Jonah pulled a blanket over his head to shut out the sound, ashamed to be so weak that he could not rebuke them. In addition to their foul language, they sometimes told sordid stories which he could not escape or forget. All he could do was whisper, “Help, Lord.”
“And so I says to the little beauty. . .” One of the sailors confided to his fellows.
“Shh!” Another man stopped him. “Have some respect.”
“Aw, the reverend’s asleep. Anyways, as I was saying. . .”
“I said ’shut your face.’”
“He’s right.” A third man spoke in a low rumble. “The lady is a beauty, but she’s married to this fellow, worthless as he is. Say, we came down for a game of cards.”
As the men rummaged around, apparently completing their plans, Jonah felt icy prickles sweep through him, inside and out. They had been talking about Leah! Where had Swain been when this dreadful miscreant dared to address her? What had the man said to her? Why could Jonah not have been there to protect her? Then these dissolute sailors would have seen what he was made of. No wonder they thought he was worthless.
A strong wave of nausea threatened him, but suddenly Jonah would have none of it. Not for another moment would he permit himself to lie here as a victim of the rolling sea.
He swallowed hard, pulled himself out of his hammock, steadied himself by its straps, and stared at the trio. “Would one of you gentlemen be so kind as to bring me some hot water and a towel?”
The men returned his stare and then glanced at each other, as if realizing he had heard them.
“Aye, sir.” The man’s gravelly voice identified for Jonah the one who had tried to stop the first speaker. “I’ll be pleased to fetch it, sir. Smiley always keeps a pot of water on the stove.” He dashed up the hatch.
Jonah continued to stare at the other two, and after a moment, they looked away and seemed to concentrate on their cards. He heaved a deep breath and stumbled over to them.
“In the future, you will refrain from your profane language and vile stories in my presence and in the presence of my wife and fellow missionaries.”
The men regarded him, traded a look, and slowly stood. One was short but burly; the closer one was stocky and stood almost eye-to-eye with Jonah.
“You think you’re man enough to back up those words, Reverend?”
Jonah leaned toward him. “I’m man enough, but I won’t satisfy your misguided definition of the word.”
The two men laughed unpleasantly.
“Blimey, Sam,” the tall one mocked in falsetto, “the holy man ’won’t satisfy’ our misguided definition of the word.” He adjusted his stance into a threatening posture.
“Hoity-toity, I’d say, Pete.” The other aped his friend’s tone and pose.
Jonah pursed his lips to keep from laughing. At seminary, he and his fellow students often had to protect themselves from mocking ruffians. These reprobates had no idea he was a boxing champion. Weak as he was, he could still hold his own, but he refused to play their violent game.
“Perhaps hoity-toity, perhaps not, but I will learn how to do every job you do on this ship. Is that man enough for you?”
The men seemed utterly confused by his pronouncement, and again Jonah pursed his lips. Pete scratched his head and snorted. “What do you think, Sam?”
Sam grasped the humor of the situation. “Reverend, I’ll make a wager with you.”
Jonah started to say he would not wager, but Sam held up his hand to silence him.
“We’ll show you the ropes, and if you do all right, and I’ll promise not to curse for the rest of this voyage.”
Jonah chuckled. “Add to that no more disgusting stories, and you will attend my Bible study and Sunday services, and you have a bargain.”
Sam slapped Pete’s shoulder. “Whaddaya say, mate? You think he can do it?”
Pete relaxed his stance. “If he don’t, we can let rip with whatever we want to say, and we won’t have to play religion. . .and the captain won’t be able to say nothing. Yeah, I’ll make the wager.”
Jonah held out his hand, and each took a turn at shaking with him to seal the bargain.
“Here you are, Reverend.” The third man returned with a brass pitcher of steaming water, a bowl, and a towel. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Thank you, sir.” Jonah accepted the items, set them on bench, and began his ablutions.
“Say, Abel, you’ll never believe what the reverend just hooked us into.”
While the men related their bargain and resumed their card game in high spirits, Jonah washed all over, shaved, then dressed in a wrinkled but fresh suit, cravat and all. A good meal would make him a new man. The thought of food threatened his stomach, but his newfound determination stifled that weak indulgence. He glanced at the trio, wondering if the fourteen other crew members would join their challenge. Maybe he should include no more card-playing in the bargain, but for now he would settle with getting rid of their most blatant, obnoxious sins.
Refreshed, he nodded to the men and climbed up the hatchway steps to stand on the main deck. Inhaling a deep breath of brisk ocean air, he gazed about at the beauty of the billowy clouds in the rich blue sky. His gaze wandered about the ship where various crew members went about their duties, coming at last to the quarterdeck at the other end of the vessel. A violent gasp almost sent him reeling back into the hatch.
Standing at the ship’s helm stood Leah, Captain Swain behind her, his arms on either side of her and his hands covering hers on the wheel.
Chapter Four
Steadied by Captain Swain, Leah lifted Daniel and helped him put his small feet between the spokes of the ship’s great wheel. The boy’s giggles made her laugh, and the captain chuckled. The wind blew through her uncovered hair, and she hoped it was not tangling in the captain’s brown beard. With her hands holding the wiggling child’s waist while he gripped the wheel, she would have to wait to secure her hair. She glanced at Reverend and Mrs. Hillerman, who stood arm-in-arm by the rail beaming at their son.
“Can I make the ship turn around?” Daniel peeked back over his shoulder.
Swain laughed loudly. “Don’t tell me you want to go back, lad. We’re barely eight days into our voyage.”
“Don’t want to go back. Just want to turn the ship around.”
Leah felt him slipping from her grip. “Time to get down, little one.”
“Aw, do I have to?”
Despite his words, Daniel braced his feet and shoved away from the wheel, pushing Leah into the solid, unmoving chest of the captain. She lost her balance and would have fallen in a heap, taking the boy with her, if Swain had not grasped them both. The wheel spun and the ship jerked. But with another hearty laugh, he deftly steadied them, moved them aside, and gripped the wheel to stabilize the vessel, all in one fluid movement.
“Easy.” He tousled Daniel’s hair. “Guess you’ll need a little practice before you take over my job.”
Daniel’s infectious giggles made his parents and Leah laugh too.
“Mrs. Adams, explain yourself. What is going on here?”
Jonah stood on the quarterdeck, hands on his hips and a glower on his face such as Leah had never seen. She felt her cheeks flame, first with shame, as if caught doing something wrong, and then with indignation. How dare this man appear so suddenly to condemn her? She gave herself a mental shake to grip reality. Although she certainly did not feel married, Jonah was her husband, the only person whose approval mattered to her. . .and to God.
“Reverend Adams, you’re up and about.” She hurried to him but stopped short of embracing him. “How fine you look, sir.” But very pale and thin.
Jonah swayed, and she wondered if she should brace him. Reverend Hillerman joined them and solved h
er quandary by placing his arm around the younger minister.
“Brother Adams, good to see you’ve recovered too. Let me help you down to the galley for something to eat. I tell you, Smiley’s cooking has made a new man of me.”
Jonah acknowledged Hillerman with a nod. “Very well. I suppose that is the first order of business.” He frowned at Leah once again before descending the stairs and disappearing below.
Leah stared after him, and her mind raced to comprehend what had angered him. She turned to Gladys, but the woman was chatting with her son. The wheel firmly in hand, Captain Swain wore a glower not unlike Jonah’s and stared toward the distant horizon. With a sigh, Leah followed her husband down to the cabin where Mrs. Smiley hovered over him.
“We must treat that stomach carefully, Reverend, I’ll bring you some of the chicken stew that put the life back into Reverend Hillerman.” She hurried toward the galley.
“The dumplings are almost as good as my wife’s.” Hillerman sat beside Jonah at the table and glanced up. “Ah, and here is your lovely wife. Sit here, Sister Adams.” He stood and moved away from the table. “I was just telling your husband what a fine help you’ve been to Mrs. Hillerman in caring for Daniel. I would guess that both of them have kept you busy, with his boyish antics and her continued illness.” His gaze exuded understanding, and he cast a meaningful look in Jonah’s direction. “I should go help her now.”
He left them just as Mrs. Smiley brought a steaming bowl and set it before Jonah, all the while cooing maternal kindnesses. “Here’s just the cure, m’lad. Chicken stew and a side of bread. You’ll be strong as an ox in no time.”
Despite Hillerman’s suggestion that Leah should sit beside Jonah, she stood across the table. Her husband had not invited her to sit, so she would wait for his instructions, lest she unwittingly anger him again.
For now, she tried not to stare as he labored to eat. She could see his struggle to keep down each bite. But in spite of his severe weight loss, he was still the finest looking man she had ever seen. And in spite of his unreasonable, confusing anger, she loved him so very much.
Jonah seemed lost in his meal, and Leah felt encouraged when she saw a healthy flush of color fill his cheeks. He emptied the bowl, sopped up the last drops of gravy with a chunk of bread, and closed his eyes as if letting the nourishment complete its task. After a moment, he opened his eyes, his gaze rested on her, and he appeared surprised to see her.
“Mrs. Adams.” His voice sounded weak, and when he started to rise, he dropped back down again. “Forgive me. I suppose it’s best not to rush into things.”
“Yes, sir.” She whispered her response, punctuating it with a habitual curtsy. Heat rose in her cheeks. Should she still curtsy to him, as she had in the Adams household?
Jonah gave her a dizzy, crooked smile. “Please sit down, my. . .” His eyebrows wrinkled with seeming uncertainty. “. . .my dear.”
At his fond address, Leah’s heart lilted. She started toward the chair beside him just as he gestured to the one opposite. Again, heat flushed her cheeks. How well she knew that her complexion, even when browned by the Atlantic sunshine, flamed a brilliant red when she was discomposed. Oh, how she hated it.
“Yes, sir,” she repeated. Unable to say more, unable to hide her tears of joy and pain, she sat with folded hands and gazed at her new, beloved husband.
Although his expression conveyed the kindness she had always known from him, it somehow gave her no comfort. This was not the way Reverend Hillerman looked at his wife.
“Are you feeling better, sir?”
Jonah drew in a deep breath and blew it out before answering. “Somewhat, but I am determined to conquer this foolishness soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
His gentle smile faded into a frown. He started to speak but apparently changed his mind, for now he looked down and fussed with his cutlery and napkin. Just when he again seemed about to speak, Mrs. Smiley bustled in to remove the remains of the meal, chattering her congratulations of his victory over mal de mer. In the next moment, Mr. Smiley entered with a bucket of water and a mop, shooing the young couple out so he could scrub the cabin floor.
***
Jonah stood at the quarterdeck rail and stared at the crow’s nest high on the main mast where a sailor stood watching the horizon. When the ship dipped into a trough, the man easily grasped the ropes to keep from falling from the narrow, enclosed platform. When the second mate called out orders, other men climbed around in the ropes and on the spars positioning the massive, billowing sails to catch the wind and speed the vessel along its journey.
Excitement filled Jonah as he considered his bargain with Sam and Pete. He would regain his strength in a few days and join them in their work. Then he would earn the right to preach the gospel to them. He could hardly wait, but wait he must. To rush into the enterprise before his strength returned would be courting disaster. Until then, he would practice sailors’ knots to toughen and strengthen his hands.
Childish giggles caught his attention, and he turned to see Leah and Daniel playing cat’s cradle while one of the ship’s cats batted bits of dangling yellow yarn. The boy had tangled his hands in the string, and Leah patiently worked to release him, a task made nearly impossible by the lively kitten. Their laughter rang out like music and lifted Jonah’s soul.
Below in the cabin, Brother Hillerman had explained the innocence of Leah’s game with Daniel and Swain at the wheel. Jonah wanted to ask her forgiveness for his foolish anger, but her sweet blushes and tears stirred such emotion within him, he could not speak. When he regained his strength, he would once more be in command of himself and would make it all up to her.
She looked up from the game and met his gaze, and her smile seemed to fade a little. He nodded his encouragement, and she turned back to her game with a blush on her cheeks. Ah, if only she knew how her fair face and graceful form stirred his heart, she would blush all the more. But that too must wait. Not one corner on this ship afforded privacy where he might be alone with her, and he refused to declare his affection where vulgar sailors might overhear.
Some of those sailors caught his attention when their shouted curses rained down from the masts where they struggled with the flapping sails. The second and third mates responded in kind with their orders. Jonah slapped the railing in irritation. He looked toward Captain Swain, who stood at the helm clearly oblivious to the foul language. Enough was enough. Jonah marched—as much as he could march across the rolling deck—to the captain’s side.
“Sir, you must put an end to this cursing.” Dizziness threatened, but he refused to surrender to it. “Why have you not protected the ladies from these uncouth men?”
Swain continued to stare straight ahead; his jaw clenched.
“Well, sir,” Jonah said. “Will you not answer me?”
Swain shot him a brief glance. “With all due respect, Reverend. . .” Despite his words, Jonah detected a note of sarcasm in his tone. “. . .by your own admission, you know very little of the seafaring life. These men work hard, and most of them are honest, even if they are rough by your standards. Come down too hard on them, and a man can find himself with mutiny on his hands. A wise captain chooses his battles carefully.”
Jonah felt himself very near to sputtering out his indignation, but something in the other man’s demeanor reminded him of his older brother, who often chided Jonah as being priggish, perhaps rightly so. Instead, Jonah chuckled.
“I see your point, sir. But might we at least protect the ladies from all this rudeness?”
Swain shrugged. “I’ll do my job, and you do yours. You’ll be holding services tomorrow morning, if you’re up to it. Preach at them all you wish.”
At the captain’s continued air of disapproval, a twinge of dismay stung Jonah, but he quickly dispelled it. God had moved the man to permit Sunday services, and He could change his heart in this matter too. With a bow, only a little awkward due to a sudden swell beneath the ship, Jonah excused himself a
nd resorted to the crew quarters for several happy hours of Bible study.
***
When Leah saw Jonah leave the quarterdeck, she hastened to Captain Swain. “Sir, is Reverend Adams ill again?”
Swain regarded her with his usual intense gaze and sad smile, a look she still could not decipher. “He’ll be all right.”
“Oh.” She started to turn away.
“Mrs. Adams. . . .”
“Sir?” She peeked around the bent brim of her straw bonnet to watch him steer the ship. Oh, how his strong stance and full beard reminded her of her dear father.
“I shall speak to the men about their language. I should have done it sooner.”
“Their language? Oh, how nice. I’m sure Mrs. Hillerman will be pleased.”
“And you?”
“Why, yes, of course. But if good behavior does not come from the heart, it will not continue. It is my prayer that your men will understand their need for Jesus Christ. It’s His forgiveness they need, not mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Swain turned the wheel to meet the surging waves that tried to change his course. “Your understanding belies your tender years. I can see why God has wanted you to be a missionary.”
She smiled. Since their first conversation, he had persisted in his assertions that she had her own calling from God, not just His calling through her husband. Before she could contradict him, Daniel grasped her hand and dragged her back to their game.
Seated with the child on the open deck, she glanced at the hatch to the crew quarters and wished Jonah would reappear. What had his dark looks meant? Was his seasickness persisting? Was it the blazing sun that furrowed his brow? Or did he somehow find her deficient before she ever had a chance to earn his approval?
A needle of anger shot through her. She had done nothing wrong and always tried to do everything right. But he wouldn’t even give her a chance. Wouldn’t even speak to her in private to list her failures. They might as well be mere acquaintances, for clearly he seemed not to care much for his wife.
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