The Mayflower Bride
Page 9
The man growled. “We shouldn’t even be taking this trip. It’s far too late in the season. Maybe we just need to throw all of ya overboard like Jonah since you seem to love your stories from the Bible so much.” Another sneer and then he started laughing. “Let’s just see if your God saves you then.” He stepped closer.
Mary Elizabeth bristled. “I warned you.” Stepping around the man, she held her lantern as high as the ceiling would allow.
The man grabbed her arm. “You’ll do no such thing, missy.” He flung her down to the floor, spit at her feet, and stomped toward the companionway.
“Foul man.” Dorothy leaned over Mary Elizabeth as the man disappeared. “You all right? That was quite brave of you.”
Mary Elizabeth shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know where that came from. Truly. And I’m fine.” She gave Dorothy a look. “I had to do something—you looked like you were about to murder him.”
“Well…maybe not murder…But I wish I could clean up the man’s mouth. I’ve never heard anything but profanity and insults exit it.”
“There’s not enough soap in the world to clean up that young man.” Mary Elizabeth stood up and wiped off her skirt.
Dorothy laughed until tears streamed down her face. “I just envisioned you trying to wash the man’s mouth out with soap.”
Mary Elizabeth hugged her friend and joined in the laughter. “That would be a sight to see, I’m sure. But I think someone is going to have to talk to Master Jones about him.”
“You’re probably right. But only a few of us aren’t sick, and I don’t think the ship master or his mate would be too happy if we tried to go on deck while the seas are so tumultuous. Besides, I think he realized you were serious. Maybe he won’t be as bad from now on?”
A nod was all she could muster. After their little confrontation, Mary Elizabeth thought she might wilt right there on the spot.
Dorothy took Mary Elizabeth’s hands. “Why don’t you go take a nap, Mary Elizabeth? I think you’ll feel better.”
A nap sounded heavenly. “All right. As soon as I check on William.”
“William?” A sweet sound broke through the fog of sleep. “William? How are you feeling?” The voice was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.
The sound pulled him out of the dark recesses of his mind. “Hmm?” It came out more of a moan.
“It’s me…Mary Elizabeth. Mary Elizabeth Chapman. I’m here to check on you and see how you are doing.” The soft words washed over him and brought him awake.
As he blinked his eyes several times, the blurry image in front of him transformed. Mary Elizabeth. With a soft halo of light around her linen cap. She was a beautiful sight. “M–Mary Elizabeth.” His throat was so dry.
“Here, let me get you something to drink.” She left his side and after a few moments reappeared with a small cup. “The only thing we have is beer right now. The fresh water barrels are empty, but this will at least help ease the parch.”
He lifted his head with her assistance and took a sip. “Thank you, Mary Elizabeth. It’s so kind of you to check on me.”
“I’ve been worried about you. You had a fever for a long while.” It was dark, but not enough to cover the flush that crept into her cheeks.
“What day is it?”
“The sixth of October.”
Another swell lifted the ship and dropped it again. He never wanted to take another trip like this. Leave the ocean-crossing to others. “I’ve been sick a long time, then?”
“You don’t remember anything?”
“Here and there…a little. But not much.”
She sighed. “It’s probably for the best. You’ve had a tough time.”
“How many others are sick?”
This time she ducked her head. When she lifted it, tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. “Almost everyone—that is, of the passengers.”
He nodded. Their situation was graver than he’d ever imagined. “And you haven’t…I mean, that is…You are well?”
A tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I am well. Thank you for asking.”
“Are you taking care of everyone all by yourself?”
Her smile grew. “No. Dorothy and David are helping. A few others aren’t ill, but they are weak from lack of sleep taking care of their families and friends.”
He lifted his hand from his side and took hold of hers. “Thank you, Mary Elizabeth.” A feeling—foreign to him—shot up his arm and into his chest and spread throughout his whole body.
Her cheeks were crimson now, but instead of ducking her head—this time—she stared into his eyes. “You are most welcome…William.” She gave him another smile. “I best see to the others.” Gathering her skirt, she stood up from her kneeling position.
“Will you come back?” What he wouldn’t give for her to stay with him all day.
Her face became radiant with a broad smile. “Of course…I’ve been here every day.”
He watched her go and felt his heart swell. She’d come to take care of him. Every day. The thought thrilled him.
CHAPTER 10
Tuesday, 10 October 1620
The rocking of the ship increased as another storm hit their ship. Mary Elizabeth looked up to the ceiling over her head. Lord, we need help.
Not only was she worried about all the sick, but she’d overheard the shouts from above. Could they survive this journey? It only seemed to be getting worse.
Stumbling through the gun deck, Mary Elizabeth worked to keep her balance. Buckets—used as chamber pots—littered the entire area of the ship. Along with prostrate bodies—they posed great obstacles when it was hard enough to walk in a straight line without falling down. She wiped the sweat from her brow and knelt beside tiny Mary More. The four-year-old hadn’t kept anything down for more than a week, and it had begun to worry Mary Elizabeth. The connection she felt to the wee girl wasn’t just that they shared a Christian name; it was the child’s sweet face—her innocence—that grabbed Mary Elizabeth Chapman’s heart. Even though there was gossip about the More children traveling without parents, Father had kept the truth to himself, and Mary Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little things.
“How is she doing?” Dorothy knelt beside her.
“She’s so small. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.” The sting of tears pricked her eyes. Did anyone care about these precious children? “Dorothy, do you know the story? About the More siblings?”
Her friend ducked her head. “Sadly, yes.”
“Father wouldn’t tell me when we first set out.” She stroked little Mary’s head. “Would you?”
Dorothy sighed and sat on her heels. “Samuel More of Shropshire paid for their passage.” She fiddled with a string at the cuff of her dress. “The gossip has produced some outlandish stories, but Mr. Brewster told us the truth when he took in Richard—Mary’s older brother. Apparently, Katherine—the children’s mother—was unfaithful to Samuel, citing their unhappy, arranged marriage. Over time, Mr. More discovered his children’s likeness to another man. He divorced Katherine.”
Mary Elizabeth gasped. “Divorced? Truly?” These things were simply not done. Didn’t God hate divorce?
“Yes. He also retained custody of the four children—who didn’t appear to be his.”
“Goodness.” She laid a hand over her heart. “Now I understand why Father wouldn’t speak of it.”
“Samuel sent them off with us—’honest and religious’ folks—so they wouldn’t have the stigma of their illegitimacy following them. But alas, the gossip has made it difficult.”
“The poor children.” Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “Can you imagine what they’ve been through?”
“Their family was prominent and quite wealthy. I imagine having nothing and being sent to a new home is quite difficult.”
The tears let loose. “Dorothy, don’t you understand? These children have no understanding of money yet. The oldest is barely eight years old. T
hat’s David’s age!” She sucked in her breath. “They’ve been ripped from their mother’s arms…and the only father they ever knew. And now they will never see them again. This ordeal will most likely scar them for the rest of their lives.”
Dorothy leaned over and covered her hand that was still on top of the child’s head. “I’m sorry, Mary Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to sound so callous. The life of the wealthy is just beyond my comprehension.” She turned her face away. “The gossip has portrayed them as hedonistic and unruly because of their…um…heritage.”
“And the gossip has stained your view?” Mary Elizabeth huffed. “No wonder Father wouldn’t allow talk of the children. I can’t believe our own people have judged these poor souls so grievously!”
She stood to do—what she was uncertain. Never had she been someone to lose her temper over arguments—but the children! Would they be tainted because of their mother’s infidelity for the rest of their lives? She loosened the strings to her shift at her neck. What she wouldn’t give for some fresh air right now.
Dorothy stood as well and grabbed Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders, and they both nearly fell over with the horrendous rocking of the ship. “Mary Elizabeth, I am so sorry. You’re right. We’ve been wrong to look down upon the children. And we’ve been wrong to listen to the gossip. I know many of the elders are wanting to use it as an example to teach us to remain pure and faithful, but I don’t have any right to think less of the Mores.”
Mary Elizabeth nodded. Their faith was of utmost importance. The Bible spoke strongly of judging others. But the Separatists wished to remove themselves from worldly behavior—and the attitude of judgment seemed prevalent. This was the first time she’d ever realized it. Was there some way to find a balance? To protect the innocent in all this?
Dorothy knelt back down by the child. Her shoulders slumped. “The poor dear didn’t ask for this …”
“No, she didn’t. They all deserve our love and encouragement. Not our hesitation and scorn. If they are to come to understand almighty God, they need to see us shining His love to all. No matter their background.”
Her friend nodded and bit her lip. “Please forgive me, Mary Elizabeth. I will see whatever I can do to help them. The Brewsters have taken in Richard and Mary, the Carvers—Jasper, and the Winslows have the eldest—Ellen. Maybe over time we can help them overcome the difficulty.”
Mary Elizabeth felt spent. The realization that so many people looked down on the More children hurt her heart. To think that Dorothy was one of them made it worse. “I think I will go check on William now. Will you stay with little Mary for a while longer?”
“Of course.” Dorothy’s words were hushed.
As she staggered her way through the maze, Mary Elizabeth thought through the past few weeks. She’d prayed for courage before this drastic change in her own life, and God had granted it. But not in the way she expected.
She was stronger now. Amazing how life had a way of bringing out hidden traits. She shook her head as she thought of her discussion with Dorothy. Never in her life had she stood up for anyone else. In fact, she used to be the quiet and meek one while Dorothy was the bubbly and outspoken one.
Maybe leaving Leyden had changed Mary Elizabeth.
Most extraordinary to her was that while most everyone else was sick and weak, she had been healthy and strong. Without thought, she’d jumped in to take care of first David and then Father. Now she was one of the caregivers of close to one hundred people.
Before Mother’s death, she’d thought of herself as frail and insignificant.
Now, months after leaving her home, she realized she was a different person.
As she reached the front of the ship where William shared a small space with Mr. Alden, the boat lifted up on another giant wave. Sea water seeped in through the gun ports as the bow smashed back down. When she sat down beside him, she found William’s blankets were wet.
“William?” Mary Elizabeth used her fingers to lift his hair from his forehead. “Can you hear me?”
“Aye.” He licked his cracked lips as he blinked his eyes open. “It’s good to see you.”
His words made her happy—even in the midst of the stench and the storm. “Let me help you drink.”
“Thank you.” He lifted his head without too much assistance. “I’m feeling a bit better today.”
“Thank the Lord! I’ve been very worried about you, and John has checked on you often, but he looks a bit green himself.”
“Is John all right? I haven’t seen him in what seems like weeks.”
Mary Elizabeth wiped his brow and braced herself as the ship rolled again. “I think so. He looks a bit peaked, but he’s had to constantly work on the barrels with all these storms.”
William sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
Mary Elizabeth thought he might be going to sleep.
Then he opened them, and the blue brilliance reached into her heart. “Why don’t you tell me about your day so far? I need something to keep my mind off the misery around me.”
“Of course …” She clasped her hands and laid them in her lap. “Well, the sailor that I told you about?”
“The one who taunts everyone and says he hopes to throw us all overboard?”
A moan erupted from her mouth. “Yes. That’s the one.” She rolled her eyes. “He came back down here this morning and started in on us all—that it’s all our fault these storms are so horrendous—that God must be punishing us for our stupidity.”
“He’s an insolent fool, isn’t he?”
“I heard Mr. Bradford praying for the sailor this morning, and he used those exact same words.” She smiled.
“Mr. Bradford is an intelligent man—and a much better man than myself since he’s praying for the ruffian.” William smiled up at her. “How about the other passengers? Is everyone still sick?”
“For the most part, they have all gotten worse as the storms have tossed us about.”
“I was afraid of that. But I’m thankful that I’m beginning to feel slightly better. I just can’t move too fast—that brings the sickness back on.” He scrunched up his face in displeasure. “How’s your father? And David?”
It warmed Mary Elizabeth’s heart that even though he’d been seriously ill himself, William asked about her family. “Father is still very ill, but David is doing fine. He’s been a big help hauling buckets and anything else we need. He seems to grow stronger every day.”
William’s hand reached out to cover hers. “Just like you, Mary Elizabeth. You appear stronger in spirit and joy every time I see you.” He smiled and paused. “And in beauty too.”
She felt the heat rise to her face. Never had she been paid a compliment from a young man. It made her heart flutter. The feelings she felt for William were unlike anything she’d ever known.
She’d always assumed that Father would arrange a marriage for her to someone within their congregation and over time she’d grow to love whomever God had set before her. But now she wasn’t sure she could settle for such an arrangement. Not when she’d had a glimpse at what attraction could make her feel. Was that wrong?
“Mary Elizabeth?” William searched her gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t wish to offend.”
She blinked. “You didn’t offend me. I thank you for the compliment.”
“You deserve it, Mary Elizabeth. And so much more. I…I—”
The ship lurched to the right and Mary Elizabeth fell onto her side, her shoulder slamming into the hard, wooden floor.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” The cries of children filled the air. “But I better go check on David and the younger ones.” She hated to leave William. Every time she did, she longed for more time with him. And she yearned to share with him about the God who gave her hope. “But I will be back later.”
“I look forward to it.”
CHAPTER 11
Thursday, 12 October 1620
One more step.” John helped steady Wi
lliam up the companionway to the main deck.
This was the second day of calmer seas, and William couldn’t wait to breathe in the fresh air. Weakened by the fever and seasickness that had claimed him the past weeks, he hoped that the worst was past.
On the deck, John released him and walked toward the bulwark. “The wind seems to be at our backs again.”
William looked up at the sails—full and taut in the wind. “And the air smells clean.” He couldn’t help but close his eyes as he inhaled.
His friend laughed and clapped him on the back. “Aye. Which is much better than below. That reminds me, I promised to help Miss Chapman and Miss Raynsford open all the gun ports and hatches. They wanted to air out the living quarters while the weather was nice.” John turned and then shot over his shoulder, “You’ll be all right for a bit?”
“Yes. I believe I’ll be fine.”
John’s footsteps echoed behind as William looked out to the sea. The great gulf before him stretched as far as the eye could see. Beyond it—somewhere—a new land awaited. Behind them was all civilization as he knew it.
Had he made the right decision? Venturing into the great unknown? In London, he’d had regular work and customers who’d come to respect him.
But there was always the past—lingering around every corner. And William wanted to forget the past. At least the part before meeting Paul.
Now he was ready for the future. As soon as he thought about building a new life in the new colony, Mary Elizabeth’s face appeared in his mind. He didn’t know her very well, but his heart hoped his future included her.
The sickness had kept him unaware most of the time, but he remembered hearing her voice, quoting scripture to him as he lay feverish and weak. Something about the Lord being a shepherd.
John had been discussing the Bible with him, but William’s opinions had been so long shaped by his unwillingness to see God as a loving Father. Paul—his mentor and only friend—had shown him love and grace for several years. Never pushing for William to see things his way. Just quietly living out his faith. But time and again, William found any excuse he could to keep a wall up between him and God.