Waltz in the Wilderness

by Kathleen Denly

  Crash!

  Daniel jumped from his berth. They had struck something. He burst from his cabin. He must find Eliza and get her to safety.

  He struggled against the tide of fleeing passengers to reach her door.

  It was ajar, the room empty.

  His breath left in a whoosh. Where was she?

  He raced back to the dining saloon. She should be easy to spot among so many men. No sign there of her bonnet, nor her soft brown curls. She must already be above.

  It seemed an eternity before he emerged on deck. He scanned the panicked passengers. There! Miss Brooks was being hauled away by the captain.

  Daniel chased them. A terrified child cut across his path, and Daniel halted short of colliding with the boy. The child crashed into the open arms of his mother.

  Daniel turned back toward Eliza.

  She was gone.

  Eliza grabbed the slick rail. Over the side, a lifeboat dangled, nearly filled by first-class passengers and two crewman at the oars.

  The captain scooped her up.

  “What are you doing?” She pushed at his shoulders.

  He swung her over the rail and deposited her into the boat. The three fancy ladies blubbered beside her. A man on the bench in front of her shivered in his nightclothes. Now full, the lifeboat descended toward the heavy surf. Eliza pulled one hand from her bag to clutch the side.

  She stared up at the captain. He shouted orders at someone on deck and dashed away.

  Mr. Clarke appeared in his place. Rain-drenched, breathing hard, he stared down at her.

  Would she ever see him again? Please, God, don’t let him die.

  He was too late. Daniel raked a hand through his wet hair as Eliza’s dinghy lowered toward the raging sea. Would she be safe?

  Beside her boat, another was being filled. A well-dressed man tried to push his way in with women and children from steerage. A crewman shoved the man, who fell against Daniel before righting himself. The man swung at the crewman. He missed and pulled back for another go. Daniel grabbed the man’s arms.

  A large wave crashed against the ship. One of the crewmen lowering Eliza’s dinghy lost his footing. The rope flew through the crewman’s hands. The boat’s bow lowered faster than its stern.

  Daniel shoved away the man he’d been restraining and snatched at the rope. Too late.

  Eliza and her fellow passengers screamed as they plunged into the sea.

  Their dinghy broke loose, crashing into the waves beside them.

  Daniel set a foot on the rail and launched himself into the roaring waves.

  Chapter 11

  Eliza smacked face-first into the thrashing ocean. Her mouth and nose filled as she went under. She fought her way toward the surface. Breaking free, she spewed water.

  She sucked air, once, twice. A wave washed over her, pulling her down.

  Resurfacing, she gasped. Kicked against her cumbersome skirts. Her bag pulled like an anvil, growing heavier by the second. She struggled to keep her face above the water.

  A second lifeboat lowered from the ship. People all around her screamed and flailed.

  Waves rushed her toward the ship. I’m going to crash against it! The waves changed course. She was surging away. Out to sea!

  Her legs screamed. Her arms were on fire. She couldn’t keep afloat much longer. The capsized lifeboat floated to and fro in the surging waves, but not close enough. She couldn’t reach it.

  Another wave brought the elderly gentlemen near her. Wild-eyed, he grabbed her shoulders. Climbed her like a ladder. Sent her plummeting beneath the surface.

  A scream formed, but she didn’t dare open her mouth. Summoning all her strength, she shoved her bag at his legs. Clawed at his grip with her free hand. Her lungs burned. She couldn’t shake him loose.

  God, help! I’m going to di—!

  She was free! A strong arm slid around her chest and a hand yanked her bag from her grasp, releasing it to its watery grave. Someone dragged her to the surface, where she gulped air. Blinked her eyes.

  Mr. Clarke was behind her, holding her.

  She opened her mouth to thank him, but another wave slapped her face, choking her.

  He dragged her through the waves.

  She flailed her legs a few times to propel them. Succeeded only in kicking him. Gave up and wrapped her empty hands around the strong arm holding her.

  Her chest ached from more than her near drowning. It’s all gone. Everything she owned, at the bottom of the sea. That doesn’t matter right now. All that mattered was getting out of this water.

  The small lifeboat, now somehow upright and fast filling with sodden passengers, was a beacon of hope. Seconds, minutes, years passed before they reached it. Two men already aboard grabbed her hands and pulled from above as Mr. Clarke pushed from below. More than once, he sank himself with the effort. At last, she tumbled into the small vessel, too weak to do anything but look toward her rescuer.

  Mr. Clarke swam away.

  Daniel stroked through the water, away from the dinghy. Thank You. It was all the time he had to express his gratitude for Eliza’s safety, for strong swimming skills, and for the carpentry work that kept his arms strong.

  Lord, help me. He swam to where another woman struggled to stay afloat. He hooked his arm around her. Fought the waves back to the dinghy. He shoved her aboard with the help of those already in the boat.

  Again and again, he found people in the waves and dragged them to safety. His whole body trembled and his lungs ached as he shoved a fifth passenger into the boat. The man’s foot slipped on the boat’s edge, kicking the side of Daniel’s head.

  Stars blurred Daniel’s vision as he sank beneath the water.

  A hand reached out. Grabbed his arm. Stopped his helpless decent. It tugged but didn’t pull him up.

  The stars faded. Stabbing pain refocused his brain. He kicked toward the surface.

  Breaking through, he sucked in air.

  Eliza’s wide eyes met his. “You’re too heavy. I can’t lift you.”

  Chapter 12

  Eliza craned her neck toward those in the lifeboat. “Help me!”

  Two men reached around her and hauled Daniel aboard. He huddled on the boat’s bottom, shaking.

  She collapsed to the bench beside him. Panic had stretched moments into years as she struggled to pull him from the water. Her heart still pounded against her ribs, but her breathing eased now that he sat at her feet. Alive. She closed her eyes. Thank you, Lord.

  Water in the bottom of the boat sloshed against her ankles and his backside. She should pull him from the puddle to the bench beside her. Her body quivered. She didn’t have the energy.

  Beside her, one of the fancy women clung to the side of the lifeboat, wailing. She yelled for her friends. No reply came. No bright colors flashed among the waves.

  All the ship’s lifeboats were in the water now. Many were halfway toward a long, skinny strip of land Eliza could see jutting from a larger strip of land to the north, about a half-mile away. A few boats, like hers, continued to fight the waves, their passengers still searching for survivors.

  When at last their boat was full, the men rowed toward shore. The fancy woman became hysterical. “Don’t leave ‘em!” She clutched at the jewels dripping from her neck. “You can’t leave ‘em! They’ll drown!” She lunged as if to jump overboard, tilting the boat.

  The man behind Eliza jerked the woman back to her bench. “Crazy woman! Want us all to drown?”

  “I’m sorry. I—” The woman broke down.

  Long minutes passed as the men fought the stormy sea with no apparent progress.

  The man across from Eliza pointed at the floor. “We’re sinking!”

  He was right. Water seeped through a half-inch hole in the wood. Already, there were five or six inches of water in the boat’s bottom. Eliza ripped a large strip from her soaked petticoats and jammed it into the hole. It wouldn’t keep all the water out. It didn’t need to. It just needed to slow the leak enou
gh to get them to shore.

  Another man pressed his boot on the makeshift patch, keeping it in place.

  “N-n-nice work.” Mr. Clarke smiled at her.

  She stared at his dripping face. Her fingers flexed, still sore from gripping the carpetbag handles. He’d tossed her last connection to Mama like a piece of garbage.

  It couldn’t be helped.

  He didn’t even try.

  You’re alive.

  But Mama’s gone and Pa’s gone. Mr. Clarke threw them away.

  Not them. Their things.

  The only things of theirs I had. And Mr. Clarke let them sink to the bottom of the ocean. For what?

  To save your life.

  She scowled and turned away from him. As if doing so could stop her warring thoughts.

  Daniel’s head dropped to his hands. He rubbed his temples. The woman had scowled at him. Scowled at him for complimenting her! She was, without a doubt, the most exasperating woman God had ever created.

  Their boat did not progress toward the closest land—which appeared to be an island of some sort. Instead, the sailors manning the oars of their little boat insisted upon heading toward a thin strip of shallow land they called Ballast Point. Several passengers expressed bafflement and aggravation with this decision. Daniel was too weary to care. So long as he wasn’t required to row, they could take him to Mexico.

  When they drew near the strip, a few men jumped into the shallow water and hauled their dinghy onto the rocky shore.

  Once the boat was beached, Daniel forced his wobbly legs beneath him and rose, intending to assist Eliza. But while he was still finding his balance, Eliza clambered over the side of the boat and set off across the rocks at a march.

  Fine.

  He offered his hand to the other woman in the boat.

  “Thank you.” She accepted his assistance and stepped out.

  He followed her out of the shallow water and saw her settled a safe distance from the slapping waves.

  He swiped the rain from his face. What had the Virginia struck that held her captive in the churning blue ocean?

  Several yards down the strip, the captain conferred with his crew. Many passengers gathered around them. Daniel trudged toward them.

  Bits of conversation carried on the wind.

  “…we strike a reef?”

  “…Zuniga Shoal. The sand…”

  “…be saved?”

  “That’s the Playa.” A sailor motioned toward a sparse group of buildings near where they were meant to have anchored. “’Bout four miles more to town.”

  “It’ll be a miserable walk in this weather.”

  “What should we…” A strong gust of wind stole the rest of the man’s sentence.

  Daniel caught the last of the captain’s words as he joined the group.

  “…take count of who’s here. See who’s missing before we risk heading back in this storm. Are there any injured?”

  A member of the crew stepped forward. “A few, sir, but none’s too serious.”

  Daniel had forgotten to check whether Eliza was injured. She hadn’t appeared so when she marched off. Still, he ought to find her and make certain she was well. He shivered. In any case, they needed to find shelter and warmth. He searched the group around the captain. Eliza wasn’t there. He walked a few steps away.

  There.

  She was hurrying along the rocky point toward the main peninsula.

  Where is she going?

  Eliza’s foot slipped on the wet rock. She righted herself. Another few steps and the rocks gave way to a narrow sandy beach. The odd sensation of swaying continued to plague her. Why wouldn’t it stop?

  A little more than a mile ahead were four rough structures situated a short distance from the water’s edge. As the crewmembers were rowing, one had said these were hide houses—storage buildings for the small town’s biggest export—cowhides. Near the hide houses were supposed to be a store and a hotel of sorts. Beyond that was the road that led to town.

  She would find it. She couldn’t stop now. Not here.

  She had read that the small town of San Diego was located four miles away from its port, which was a great inconvenience for sailors and merchants who disliked having to venture so far from their ships. At the moment, four miles sounded like a splendid distance. If she never saw another drop of salt water again, it would be too soon.

  She shivered as a strong breeze drove rain against her dress. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubbed her shoulders as she trudged along the wet sand. The calmer waters of the bay lapped the shore to her right. She turned her head left, blocking them from view. It didn’t stop their whooshing from filling her ears.

  The remembered screams of men, women, and children fleeing the crippled ship hounded her with every slap of water. The taste of iron filled her mouth. She quit gnawing her inner lip.

  Had the other fancy ladies found their way to a different lifeboat or were they lost to the sea?

  A sob pressed its way up her throat. She swallowed it down.

  How many others had failed to reach safety?

  Her lungs grew tight. She wheezed in wet, salty air.

  Had the small boy who’d danced with his mother survived?

  What about his mother?

  Mama. Her legs wobbled—and she fell to her hands and knees in the wet sand. Her stomach churned and lurched upward. She fought and failed to keep its contents within.

  Oh, Mama. I miss you.

  If only Mama were here to hold her.

  Chapter 13

  Eliza’s down!

  Daniel rushed forward, but when she began retching, he halted a discreet distance behind her. She probably took in too much seawater when she was tossed from the boat and nearly drowned by that crazed old man. I should have gotten to her faster.

  Her heaving stopped and she eased back on her heels.

  He closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry I don’t have a kerchief to offer you.”

  She accepted his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “Thank you.”

  They strolled away from the offensive odor.

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “Are you well?”

  Hugging herself as she shivered, she tilted her head and raised a brow.

  What a foolish thing to ask. Of course she wasn’t well. “That is…I meant to ask, ‘Are you injured in any way?’”

  She looked down as if to check herself. “I don’t believe so.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Where are you going?”

  She raised her chin and wiped at the rivulets of rain running down her forehead. “To town.”

  “That’s not the town. San Diego is another four miles beyond that.”

  Her lips pressed together—a sign he was learning did not bode well for him.

  “Thank you kindly for your information. However I am well aware that those sorry-looking hide houses do not constitute the town of San Diego.”

  “Are you planning to walk there?” He wiped the rain from his face. “In this weather?”

  “What else?” She placed a hand on her hip.

  He gaped at her. He had saved her life. She had saved his. Were they truly arguing once more? The ridiculousness of it rumbled deep within him before bursting forth unchecked.

  Her face grew red, but hysterical mirth had overcome him. He could not stop laughing. His stomach cramped and he doubled over. Why was he so amused?

  She spun away.

  Still bent, he grasped her arm. “Wait.” He gasped between laughs. “Wait.” He said again as his self-control returned and he straightened. “I’m sorry.”

  She crossed her arms.

  “Truly I am.” At last, he managed a sober expression. “I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.”

  Her expression softened. “Of course, you’re forgiven.” She uncrossed her arms and exhaled. “But will you forgive me? You saved my life, and the moment we were ashore, I left you without so much as a hint of gratitude. I don’t
know what came over me. I’m so sorry.”

  He smiled. “You forget that you saved my life as well. Of course you are forgiven.”

  “Thank you.”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  She cocked her head to the side.

  “Why did you scowl at me? In the dingy?”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks flushed again as her chin dipped down. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t really scowling at you as much as I was thinking of the things I’d lost. They were special.”

  Shivers shook her body. She needed a barrier against the cold. Should he offer his coat? No. It was as soaked as she. “I’m sorry.”

  “It couldn’t be helped.” Her gaze darted past him, then returned to him. “I truly am grateful for your rescue, but I must go now.”

  He looked over his shoulder. The rest of the survivors meandered down the beach toward them, led by Captain Swenson. He turned back to Eliza. She was already walking away. “I understand your wish to avoid the captain, but I’m certain he will be far too busy determining the fate of his ship to cause you any further trouble.”

  She continued down the beach. “I’m not leaving on account of the captain.”

  “Then why?” His voice rose to carry over the increasing distance. “I’m certain the captain will arrange accommodations for his passengers until a new ship arrives.”

  “Fortunately”—she sidestepped a pile of kelp—“I haven’t the need to wait for a new ship.”

  He jogged to catch up with her. “What do you mean? How do you intend to reach…?” What was her destination? The base of his throat tightened. Did she not intend to disembark in Boston when he did? Even if she did. What then? He’d likely never see her again. Heaviness slowed his steps. He shook himself. Beyond that of his self-appointed role as her protector during their journey, he had no connection to Eliza. It was right that they should part ways at journey’s end.

  She swiped damp tendrils from her face. “I am at my destination. Or very soon will be. San Diego is as far as I ever intended to go.”