by Diane Noble
She stared at him. “But your designs and building of ships,” she finally managed, “your passion for the open seas, so much like Hosea’s.” Then she frowned. “Does he know?”
“Yes, though he’s being unusually silent about it. I think he’s disappointed in me for leaving.”
“I don’t blame him. Shipbuilding has been your life.” She took a few steps closer, looking up at him, wondering if a new contentment had settled into his heart, if that was what she noticed when she first saw him.
He looked down at her, still grinning. The sparkle in his eye had returned and she knew that had to be the reason for his newfound happiness.
“Where will you be…in America?”
“Nauvoo, Illinois.” He took her hand as if to steady her for yet another revelation. “I have something else important to tell you,” he said.
“The only thing that would surprise me more would be news that you’re marrying one of these…what did you call them?”
“Saints.”
“That it’s, isn’t it?”
He threw back his head and laughed. But she couldn’t tell if it was laughter because of the absurdity of such a statement—or if it was because she’d guessed the truth.
Before she could inquire, a nearby gate opened and closed and the crunch of footsteps on gravel reached them.
Gabe moved closer and gave her a tight hug. “If you ever need me,” he said, “remember where I said I’ll be—with the Mormons in Nauvoo. No matter what happens, I will be there for you.”
She nodded. “I’ll remember…but, Gabe, you didn’t answer my question.”
Hosea strode into the garden just then, his smile wide, eyes only for his wife. They ran to each other and Hosea wrapped his arms around Enid and she slipped her arms around his neck.
Gabe watched as their eyes met, and even before Hosea covered her mouth with his, he saw a deep and abiding love in their expressions.
He turned for the gate, the letter in his pocket weighing heavy against his heart. As he walked away, he wondered why he had found it difficult to tell Enid that he was getting married. At this moment, she was likely quizzing Hosea about it. But even the captain hadn’t yet been told.
Enid had enough on her mind, he told himself. Adding the news of his coming nuptials might only make things more difficult between Hosea and Enid…if there was any love left in her heart for Gabe.
And he suspected a tiny spot remained untouched by any other love. He knew because it was the same for him.
FIFTEEN
Holding a lacy parasol in one hand and the strings of a matching reticule in the other, Mary Rose strolled with her grandfather along the wooden walkway that wound along Halifax harbor. Coal and the twins tumbled alongside, sometimes running ahead, other times falling behind as they inspected candy shop windows and street corners where fiddlers played, or puppets danced with the help of their puppeteers, or silent mimes entertained gathering crowds.
“Lady,” Ruby said over and over again, “thith ith the moth beautiful thity I ever thaw.”
To one side, the aquamarine water sparkled in the summer sun; to the other, brightly painted wood-framed buildings—shops, businesses, and homes—dotted the green hills above, reminding Mary Rose of a toy village that, as a child, she played with on her quilted counterpane. The steeples of two churches near the harbor and one in the distance—which she thought was the Anglican church, St. Paul’s, that Gabe had pointed out as they anchored—spiraled into the sky, and cobbled streets laced in and out of the village bearing their carriages, buckboards, and high-stepping teams. Besides the Sea Hawk, at least a half-dozen sailing ships had anchored in the harbor, with at least as many more either heading out to sea or piloting in. A steady stream of travelers and seaman spilled off the ships and onto the harbor walkways and streets, creating a cacophony of noise—from both visitors and hawkers, who vied for the travelers’ business, selling everything from dried jerky to smoked fish to teas from China.
The children seemed to have a hundred questions about each hawker they passed, and Mary Rose quickly gave up trying to answer each one. Instead, she talked to the children, and Grandfather, about the beauty of the village, and the joy of being on solid ground once more.
At the top of a hill, when they had almost reached a gleaming white church, she realized that her grandfather had fallen quite silent, even glum, as they walked.
A lovely green spread across a gently rolling hillside to the south, with sugar maples and yellow birch trees spreading their leaves above shaded iron benches. At the entrance to the green, a hawkie dressed like a clown stood at the back of a small brightly painted wagon, selling girds and cleeks.
To squeals of delight from the children, Grandfather bargained with him for three. Once they had the hoops and sticks in hand, the children took off at full speed, tumbling and laughing and skipping as they ran.
She stopped underneath a sugar maple, furled her parasol, and turned to her grandfather. “I thought you would be pleased with the turn of events,” she said quietly, so the children wouldn’t overhear. She sat down and looked up at him. “The miracle that brought both Gabe and me to belief. But something tells me you’re not.”
“You’ve known Gabriel MacKay for less than a week,” he said and sat down beside her. He looked across the green as the children played, and then released a great sigh. “He’s professed faith in the Prophet’s teachings—though without so much as cracking open the Book of Mormon. ’Tis my opinion, dearest, that he fancies himself in love with you and that in order to take you as his wife, he must profess to believe.”
Mary Rose smiled. “You are saying, dear Grandfather, that ’tis possible he could simply have fallen in love with me and would do anything on Queen Victoria’s seas and lands to make me his?”
Her grandfather twirled his mustache as a grin took over his face. “Perhaps that is what I am saying—though ‘fancy’ was the word I used instead of love.”
“‘Fancy,’ generally speaking, means high emotion not meant to last. Foolish infatuation is another way of putting it.”
“Foolish, no.” Her grandfather reached for her hand. “No man who finds you the object of his ardor—whether it be a fancy or lasting love—could ever be considered foolish. The fool would be he who overlooks your loveliness altogether.”
Mary Rose threw back her head and laughed. “Methinks my dear grandfather is attempting to dig himself out of a hole.”
He squeezed her hand. “With your leave, then, let me start over.” He turned to her, his countenance somber once more. “I fear you are rushing into this…romance. It worries me, Mary Rose. I think you should give it time, determine if he’s sincere about his conversion. Let him ask questions of the missionaries, study the Book of Mormon, and question them, just as I did”—he smiled—“and as we tried to get you to do. Let him find out if this is truly what he’s searching for.”
Mary Rose stood, playing with the parasol handle as she watched Ruby race down a hillside next to her wobbly hoop, her blond plaits flying, her cheeks pink with exertion. Pearl tumbled along beside, squealing and laughing as she tried to keep up Ruby’s pace. Some creature at the edge of a duck pond caught Coal’s attention, and he squatted to poke at it with a twig.
She turned again to her grandfather. “I can’t explain it, but the moment I looked into Gabe’s eyes it was impossible to look away. We touched each other’s souls with a sense of knowing. For me, it was as if I’d been waiting all my life to have someone touch my soul—to recognize me—in such a way.”
Her grandfather came up to stand beside her. “So much exists ahead of us that is new: a new country, new people—friends and foes—and a new faith. You’re adding another dimension to all that. Are you certain you want to?”
She smiled and touched his cheek. “I’m certain.”
“We don’t know much about his background.” He smiled. “His pedigree, as one might say.”
“He is our captain’s dearest fr
iend, which speaks of his good character.”
“’Tis true,” her grandfather agreed. “But with your permission, I’ll make inquiries into his background, perhaps ask the captain how long he’s known him.”
Mary Rose laughed. “If you insist, but I’m a good judge of character, and Gabe is all I could ever want in a husband. I know he’s a good man.” She paused, thinking of Gabe, the light in his eyes when he gazed into hers, the low timbre of his voice when he spoke her name, making it sound like a caress.
“Will you wait until I ask some questions of the captain?”
“I cannot promise you that, because in my heart I know ’twill be only the best report.”
“Marriage should last a lifetime, the commitment of one man to one woman, for as long as you both live. Surely you could at least wait until I’ve made inquires of the captain.”
Mary Rose didn’t answer, her attention held fast by a man who stepped from behind a gate at St. Paul’s across the green.
“Grandfather, is that Gabe?”
Squinting, he followed her gaze. “’Tis difficult to tell from this distance, but I believe it may be.”
“Will you watch the children? See that they get back to the ship in time for their naps?”
“Yes, of course, but…”
She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, gave him a quick embrace, then turned and hurried to the exit of the park.
Gabe glanced back to the church, then started for the harbor area, his head bent, seemingly deep in thought.
She had just stepped into the street to go to him when another figure appeared at the gate: a strikingly handsome woman with dark red hair. She was taller by a head than Mary Rose and carried herself like a queen, her bosom ample, her waist tiny, her legs appearing lean and long underneath a simple woolen skirt. The woman stepped out onto the walkway, her gaze riveted to Gabe’s back as he strode toward the harbor.
Mary Rose hesitated at the side of the street, baffled. Before she could decide what to do, Captain Livingstone stepped through the gate and joined the woman. She turned to him then and they exchanged a loving look. He slipped his arm around her waist and they too walked toward the harbor half a block behind Gabe.
Something about the woman’s expression and the way she kept her eyes trained on Gabe’s back even as she conversed with the captain puzzled Mary Rose.
Her grandfather appeared at her side. “You changed your mind?”
She gave a little wave of her fingers. “With a stride like his, I doubt I could have caught him.” She laughed, turning back to the green, taking her grandfather’s arm. “Besides, how would such a thing appear? Lady Mary Rose Ashley of Salisbury, England, seen chasing after a man along the streets of Halifax.”
Her grandfather watched the captain and his companion and, farther along, Gabe MacKay as they made their way to the harbor. “Promise me,” he said softly, “that you will follow your head, rather than your heart, as you make your decision.”
“It’s already made, Grandfather. I will marry him because when I look into his eyes I see a love that I know will last forever.” Observing his disgruntled expression, she softened her words with a smile. “Though I promise I’ll listen after you’ve asked the captain to vouch for his friend.”
“Good.” He gave her a pleased, decisive nod.
She laughed again. “I can say with full confidence that the captain will sing his friend’s praises.”
“I hope so,” her grandfather said and then turned away from her. “I think it’s time to call the children.”
SIXTEEN
Just hours outside Boston Harbor, Mary Rose and Gabe stood in front of the captain of the Sea Hawk on the main deck, near the bow. Bronwyn and Griffin stood slightly to one side, Bronwyn looking beautiful in a gown and bonnet that Mary Rose had given her. Slightly behind Bronwyn, Grace Carolyn cuddled the infant. And flanking the couple were the twins on Mary Rose’s side and Coal on Gabe’s.
Brother Brigham came up to stand next to the captain to give his blessing after the captain led them through their wedding vows. Several of the officers stood nearby, and about half the seamen on watch.
Coal eyed some green boys who’d hoisted themselves to the shrouds and climbed up the ratlines. They had settled comfortably in the crosstrees, legs dangling, firmly wedged despite the wild gyrations of the ship, to get a better view of the ceremony. Mary Rose elbowed Gabe and pointed out Coal’s readiness to join the boys.
Gabe put a gentle hand on Coal’s shoulder. “We need you here, sailor. Later maybe I’ll climb the mast with you.”
The boy’s eyes shone, and he nodded as Gabe turned back to Mary Rose. But Pearl had wiggled between them and held out her hands for Gabe and Mary Rose to hold. Ruby, not to be outdone, took Mary Rose’s opposite hand. At her feet sat Oscar, whom she’d insisted not be left out, in his bucket.
Gabe winked. “I told you we make quite a family,” he whispered.
“Mary Rose Ashley and Gabriel MacKay,” the captain began, “you have come here today to ask the blessings of God and his Church upon your marriage. I require, therefore, that you promise, with the help of God, to fulfill the obligations that Christian marriage demands.”
He turned to Gabe. “You have taken Mary Rose to be your wife. Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, to be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
Gabe gave out a booming “I do!” to the delight of the seamen who whooped and hollered and whistled.
The captain turned to Mary Rose and asked the same question.
She gave him a wide smile and said, “I do.” All her hopes and dreams for the future rested in those two little words. Oh, how she cherished this man! Her heart danced with joy when the captain then asked them to turn and face each other and she looked up into his eyes.
Ruby, her mouth agape at being part of such a ceremony, stepped back slightly but remained close enough to cling to Mary Rose’s hand as she and Gabe exchanged their vows.
In turn, they pledged their vows to have and to hold each other from that day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death would part them.
“This is my solemn vow,” Gabe said, his voice ragged and hoarse with emotion as he finished.
“This is my solemn vow,” Mary Rose said, looking deep into Gabe’s eyes as she finished saying her vow to him and to God.
He slipped a ring onto her finger, and then bent to kiss her.
Ruby gasped. “I didn’t know Lady could kith,” she said.
“Yuck, I hate all this mushy stuff,” Coal said.
But Mary Rose and Gabe were the only two who heard the children as an outcry from the seaman began anew. Mary Rose thought her knees might give out, so thoroughly did Gabe’s kiss move her. Her heart was still pounding, her face flushed, as he slipped his arm around her.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the captain said, eyes dancing merrily. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel MacKay.”
Cheers went up again, this time the more genteel joining the rougher fracas of the seamen and green boys.
When the noise subsided, Brother Brigham stepped forward. “Let us bow our heads in prayer,” he said. “Heavenly Father, we ask thy blessing on this union today, for we know it is pleasing in thy sight. We ask that you would keep your hand upon these your children Gabriel and Mary Rose as they set forth to become vital members and to serve you in the glorious Church you have restored upon this earth.
“Bless them and make them fruitful, Heavenly Father, that they and their progeny might someday enter your gates with thanksgiving, having left a legacy of service to you through which others might come to know the true way.”
Gabe watched the twins and Little Grace, and then his eyes found Mary Rose and she turned almost as if she felt his gaze. He thought his heart would surely burst with love and joy and every g
ood thing about her, about their marriage. The Heavenly Father had truly brought them together. He’d had many talks with Brigham since sailing from Halifax, and was beginning to understand a different concept of God. Now he wondered how he could ever have thought him disinterested in the lives of those he created.
He strode across the distance between them, rejoicing in the new life they were about to begin, their coming together in a joyful union, creating a family—perhaps even a readymade family. Three weeks ago he wouldn’t have believed such a change in him possible.
But Brigham had told him that with God everything was possible. His change of heart and change of direction were as much a miracle as the baby moving into position in Bronwyn’s womb. They both had changed direction because of Brigham’s prayer. He smiled at the whimsical thought.
Even the turning of the infant seemed somehow related to a turning of his own faith in God, a faith that meant he didn’t need to understand why sorrowful, painful things happened in life—such as the deaths of his family. Faith meant that through sorrowful times or joyful times God was with you—and with those you loved. Besides, with his new faith he’d discovered a new family, not only a new wife and possibly three ready-made children, but a family of Saints that cared for each other, according to Brigham, like blood relatives.
One of the green boys still atop the mast called out, “Land ahoy!”
The passengers crowded to the starboard side of the ship. With the horizon a good eleven miles out from the top of the mast, it would be some time before those on deck could spot Boston.
“Ships ahoy!” another boy cried, pointing to the bow.
Gabe’s heart leapt. Twelve days, eight hours. They had done it. Beat the record, with hours to spare.
He hurried to Mary Rose, found a place at the railing, and wrapped his arm around her. The children crowded in close. Everyone wanted to be the first to spy the parade of boats that met other record-setting ships. They peered out at the empty seas, sparkling in the sunlight. Minutes passed. Then a half hour. Soon the first brightly decorated fishing boat appeared, several small sailboats rocking along in the wakes behind, followed by the pilot boats and dozens of others with flags flying, bands playing, and banners whipping in the wind.