“The seafarers can be difficult, I’ll give you that. It’s hard to keep a good disposition when livin’ in such close quarters for days on end.”
“Aye.” Regan shuddered. “Then there are the ones who appear to be sick. I do my best to keep our distance, but it feels so much better for our constitutions up here on deck where we have fresh air and space.” She spun around with her hands held high. “I have a hard time sleepin’ myself when I’m down there. Our room is suffocatin’ and claustrophobic.”
Joseph’s deep laugh rumbled. “It’s obvious who she gets her high spirits from.”
Regan dropped her hands with a smile. “Guilty as charged.”
He set Keera down at Regan’s side. “Stay here with your mama. I’ll be right back. Can you be patient for me while I get you a surprise?”
“Aye!” Keera bounced. “I love surprises!”
Joseph slipped away, only to return a few minutes later with a stack of clean blankets and a fat bundle. “The rowboat is snug against the side of the ship. You don’t have to worry about it slipping and cutting loose. I’ll just settle these blankets like so”—he leaned over the side and wrestled the heavy wool into place—“and that’ll give you a perfect place to slumber.” He turned to Keera. “Now little missy, I want you to curl up on this blanket and count the stars for me. Can you do that?”
“I can try.” Keera scrunched up her face. “I can only count to five.”
“Five, eh? That’s wonderful! When you reach five, start all over until you’ve counted them all.”
“Aye, I can do that.” Keera grinned, her blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
Regan frowned. “It’s a wonderful idea, Joseph, and I appreciate it so much, but I can’t have Keera so close to the water. What if I fall asleep and she doesn’t? She could go over the side.”
“It wouldn’t be easy with the angle of the boat, but I had an idea to cover that, too.”
Regan sent him a skeptical look and watched him while she busied her hands in an attempt to smooth Keera’s unruly auburn curls into a semblance of order. Keera giggled and ducked her head to avoid her mother’s ministrations.
Joseph opened the bundle that he’d dropped at his feet and held up a length of soft rope.
“I’ll lash you both to the lifeboat. If she tugs at the ropes, it’ll wake you. Sounds harsh, but it won’t be. It’s for her safety. We do it all the time when working the deck in rough seas.”
“Can’t be any worse than tryin’ to sleep below deck. I can’t count the amount of times she’s bumped her head on the side of the ship when the ship rolls. I’ve considered tyin’ her to me many a time, especially during each of the tongue lashin’s I’ve received from the others she awakens with her wails. The walls are thin, and we’ve offended many a passenger. It hasn’t been a pleasant journey in that sense.”
“I know, miss. And I hope the difficult journey pays off for ya both when ya reach your destination.”
Regan sucked in a breath of salty air as she turned slightly away from him to stare out over the moonlit ocean. She blinked back the rare feeling of unexpected tears. She felt helpless in the face of her future—as helpless as she did when it came to controlling their lives aboard this huge, unfamiliar ship. Lack of control wasn’t something she was used to. She was used to being in control. She turned back to face her friend. “Thanks, Joseph. You’ve been nothing but kind. I hope you realize how much that means to us. We appreciate it more than words can say.”
“Nonsense. You’re the one who’s done me the favor.” Joseph studied her with concern. “I miss my wife, daughters, and grandchildren back home. I know my wife would appreciate knowin’ my time away wasn’t wasted and that I was watching out for someone else’s daughter and grandchild in this situation. She’s a good woman—I know you two would be great friends if you were ever to meet.”
Regan forced a watery smile. “Aye. I’m sure we would be, too. I hope to meet her someday. I want to thank her for sharing you with us. And your daughters…I’m sure they miss you dearly. I know my father will thank you for watching over us if he ever gets the chance.”
Joseph studied her for a moment more before he masked his concern and busied himself with showing her how to lash the ropes securely to the lifeboat. He’d already made it clear he didn’t take well to the notion of a young widow traveling alone with such a young child.
Regan followed suit and tried to put his mind at ease. No need to go into detail with him over their uncertain future in America. “This looks wonderful. Only a few more days and we’ll reach our destination. I just might be able to keep my sanity now.” Regan lifted Keera into the lifeboat and settled her onto the blankets. Her daughter’s eyes drifted shut even as she struggled to keep them open. “And what a perfect distraction to have her count the stars.”
“I’ll count ’em tomorrow, Mama,” Keera mumbled, her words heavy with sleep.
“Your sanity is certainly a good thing to keep, Miss Regan. You’re going to do fine, no matter your situation. I’ll get your things and bring them up here come mornin’. I’ll also alert the captain to your new accommodations so he’ll not be startled if he finds you here. We’ll be watchin’ over ya so you can sleep.”
“How can we ever thank you?”
“You can continue to take good care of the wee one. The two of you have made the trip less lonely for me. I’m gettin’ too old to be away from my loved ones like this.”
“Glad we could help.” Regan slipped gracefully over the rail and slid down into the lifeboat. She settled beside her daughter and wrapped the rope around them both. The water lapped against the hull below them, the sound reassuring after their weeks of being cooped up in the dark, dank cabin below deck.
Keera’s cool, soft hand reached over to cup Regan’s warm cheek. Regan turned her head and kissed her daughter’s tiny palm before closing her eyes, glad to finally have the chance to rest.
Ian Morgan took a long sip of coffee as he leaned against the base of his lighthouse and looked out over the aquamarine waters of the Florida Gulf Coast. He contemplated his early morning prayer as he took in the beauty around him.
Granny made it clear that she thought it unnecessary for him to pray for extra provisions for her and his son, Johnny—insisting Ian provided everything the three of them could possibly need. But his son was withdrawn, and Ian wanted to do something to pull him out of his musings. Granny worked way too hard while making do with their meager supplies. They needed a diversion, something to liven things up around the lighthouse. Granny and Johnny did without far too often, and Ian didn’t feel it was out of line to ask God to provide a few extra extravagances for them just this once.
“Thinking about your boat won’t make it magically appear,” Granny sing-songed, her words alerting Ian to her presence moments before she walked up beside him. He pulled away from the wall as the tiny woman hugged him with a strong arm. Her rolled-up dress sleeves hugged tan forearms, the color of her skin accentuating the fact that Granny spent her days hard at work in the hot Southern sun.
Johnny walked past them and slowly made his way to the water. Ian grimaced. Most boys his age would careen toward the shore oblivious to any hazards that might await. Not many five-year-olds would walk to the shore with such serious consideration. He shook off the thought and turned to his grandmother.
“Maybe I was thinking more along the lines of setting you to sail, Granny. Perhaps I was contemplating sending you off to see the world in a fine boat made of the most up-to-date materials.”
“Nonsense.” Granny smiled up at him. “You know good and well that I don’t have any aspirations to see anything beyond this beautiful view.” She motioned toward the shoreline.
And what an amazing view it was. Small, random waves rode the top of the otherwise mirror-smooth water to lap gently at the shore. A pelican floated on the water’s surface, his reflection blurred as he waited for an unsuspecting fish to swim within range so he could scoop it up with
his long bill. Seagulls flew overhead, crying out as they dipped and swayed in the slight salt-scented breeze.
Granny squeezed his arm. “Besides, the small boat you prayed for wouldn’t stand up against the ocean’s strong pull.”
“So now you admit I’m not too frivolous to wish for such a small vessel?” he teased. “You know I just want something that will get us around a bit easier, take some of the burden off you when we travel around the bayou.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my legs, Ian. I can walk anywhere you can.”
“That is true. But the trip to town is a long one. A boat would make the trip easier.” And an easier trip would mean more trips to town, allowing his lonely grandmother more visits with the friends she’d left behind when she moved out to the lighthouse to help with Johnny.
“I’m fine without my friends. I have you and Johnny to care for, and I can’t imagine spending my life any other way. As a matter of fact, I was lonelier when I lived in town than I am now. I love it out here.”
For a moment Ian wondered if he’d spoken his words out loud.
Granny laughed. “I see it in your eyes. You worry about me. Johnny’s silence keeps you worried enough. You don’t need to take on additional burdens. I’m perfectly content and happy.” She rubbed his arm. “And Johnny will come out of his shell soon enough. You just wait and see. He had a hard blow—losing his mama at such a young age. He’s resilient. He’ll come through in time.”
“It’s been two years, Gran. How much longer do you think it’ll take? He was barely toddling around when we lost her.”
“You know he lost her long before she died, Ian.”
“That’s true. She hated it out here. That’s why I worry about you. This isn’t a place for a woman.”
“It’s a wonderful place for anyone.” Granny’s eyes widened. “How can you even say such a thing? Have I seemed unhappy or lonely even one day since I came out here? It’s a gorgeous place to raise a child, to live as a family. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Ian studied her. “Are you sure? Do you mean it?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. Since when have I ever told an untruth?”
He puffed out a breath. “Never that I know of.”
She stood quietly beside him for a moment, but he knew the conversation wasn’t over.
Granny turned from the water to study him. “The only thing I can see that might be missing around here is a wife for you—a mama for the young one.”
“We’re doing just fine, Granny. I don’t need another wife.”
“Johnny misses having a mother around.”
“He has you. We’ve been through this, Gran. You saw Maggie. She couldn’t cope with being so far away from town. She gave in to her illness— she even seemed to welcome death as an escape from her misery out here. Why would any other woman want to stay if this solitary life couldn’t even satisfy Johnny’s own mother?”
“Maggie wasn’t well, even before you moved her out here. We just discussed that. She changed after she had Johnny. She never wanted to hold him—she cried all the time. I don’t know what was wrong, but something snapped way back then. I hoped the change of scenery and the quiet life on the coast would pull her out of wherever she’d gone in her mind, but obviously the move didn’t help.”
“How can a mother not love her own child, Gran? I never understood that.” Ian studied Johnny as he walked toward the cove. “He’s such a great boy.”
“He is a wonderful child, and I think Maggie loved him as best she could. She cared for the both of you in her own way. It just wasn’t enough to keep her here.”
Ian shrugged. “All I know is the last thing I need is a woman showing up to complicate things. I’m perfectly happy with you, Johnny, and the lighthouse. Nothing beyond that needs to change.”
“Sometimes when we pray, unexpected things happen.” Granny smiled a mysterious smile and motioned for Johnny to move away from the water’s edge. Johnny turned back and fell into step beside her. They headed for the cottage, and Ian was left with his coffee.
Chapter 2
Regan startled as her lifeboat slammed hard against the sturdy side of the ship. Up until now, she’d never felt the small craft separate from the larger vessel. The mighty ship rose and fell roughly against the unseen ocean below them, making it obvious that a strong storm had moved in while they slept. Rain pelted against the tarp she’d stretched across the lifeboat.
Not sure what to do, Regan reached over to feel for her daughter. Relief coursed through her when her hand connected with Keera’s soft skin. Surprisingly, despite the storm, her young daughter still slumbered away with the deep sleep of an exhausted child.
The past few days had passed unremarkably, a good thing in Regan’s estimation, but a mixed undercurrent of both anticipation and dread hummed through her as they approached their final destination. The lifeboat arrangement had proved to be worth its weight in gold in keeping Regan’s sanity while they’d traveled, but their time aboard the Ocean Queen was quickly coming to an end. And though she had little freedom from the mundane routines aboard ship, the end of the journey meant the end of the brief independence she’d enjoyed while she and her daughter had traveled.
Another huge bump had the lifeboat again swinging out and back. Regan thought she might be better off securing her daughter aboard the larger ship for the duration of the storm. But the jerky movement of the smaller vessel had her wondering if they’d fall into the sea if she tried to make it aboard ship. The crew most likely battled the elements, and it wouldn’t do to bother the hardworking men with a request to help her and Keera aboard.
Besides, Joseph had assured her the lifeboat was secure and that there was no way the small vessel would break free of its moorings. Another huge swell caused the ship to rise and then rapidly drop. Regan’s stomach lurched and she pushed up on her elbows. Regardless of Joseph’s assurances, the abrupt bumps and bangs had her wondering if the storm might change their current situation.
The ship rose higher and higher on a wave and this time, when it slammed down, it listed alarmingly to the side. Keera woke with a scream, and Regan reached for her, talking in soothing tones even as she feared they were going to be dumped overboard into the churning ocean below.
“Lighten the load, lighten the load!” a terrified voice screamed from above. “She’s struck a sandbar and we’re going over if we don’t do something quick.”
Other voices joined in, the chaos nearly drowning out Keera’s terrified cries. “Mama? I don’t want to go in the water. I want to go below deck!”
“We’re safer here, wee one. It’ll be okay.” Even as Regan consoled her daughter, she worked her foot under the bench of the lifeboat and hooked her bootless toe around the wood support, hoping to find a way to keep them aboard if the ship continued to tilt.
The larger boat would surely crush them if they tipped onto the sandbar, a thought Regan quickly pushed to the back of her mind. For the time being, the listing had stalled, and Regan could hear the splashes of large barrels and crates as they were thrown overboard into the raging seas.
Progress was made and the boat moved into a more normal position.
“See, love, the boat is rightin’ itself. The crew is hard at work to get us off this sandbar, and we’re gonna be just fine. As soon as we’re free, we’ll be movin’ along toward Pensacola, and to Uncle Stewart’s fine home.”
If only my uncle and aunt were expecting us.
But she couldn’t dwell on that at the moment. She had a daughter to console.
A large bundle slid against her shoulder. “Look, Keera, the supplies Joseph snuck over for us are trying to escape! They’re tapping me on the shoulder.”
Keera giggled. “Supplies can’t move on their own, Mama. And I can’t see anything, anyway. It’s too dark under this tarp.”
“Oh, silly me! Of course they can’t. The tipping of the ship must be making them slip.”
The lifebo
at once again jolted sharply against the hull and Regan sucked in her breath.
“I don’t like when it does that, Mama.”
“I don’t like it either, love, but it’s a good thing. It means the boat is tilting back in the direction it needs to be so we can get back on course.”
Except the rain pelting against the tarp, silence ensued.
Regan breathed a sigh of relief. “I think that’s it, Keera. See? That wasn’t so bad after all.”
Suddenly they were free-falling through the air, the lifeboat dropping from beneath them.
Regan’s scream drowned out Keera’s cry of terror.
They hit the water hard, the lifeboat still beneath them. Regan’s head slammed against the hard wood. She struggled to stay awake. Thank heavens they’d been tied in. Only a thin sliver of light passed through a crack where the tarp’s heavy edge had pulled away from the boat. Violent rains continued to pound against the thick canvas.
Unconsciousness pressed in, but Keera’s terrified sobs filled the air, forcing Regan to hold off the enticing darkness.
“I’m here, Keera,” she mumbled, her words slurred. “It’s gonna be all right.”
But was it? She had no idea what had just happened. She clawed at the tarp, suddenly feeling claustrophobic with it blocking her view.
The material piled into the boat beside her and she struggled to see through the rain and darkness that surrounded them.
Keera pressed against her. “The ship’s gone.”
Regan’s heart sank. “It can’t be, hon. It’s dark. I’m sure the boat is close by.”
But it wasn’t. The waves were still higher than normal; even this close to shore they hid the ship from view. The small boat was too light to settle on the sandbar as the heavier vessel had, and moved closer and closer to shore.
Panic coursed through Regan as she struggled to sit up. She searched the open sea for any sign of life.
“Lord, please help us find a safe harbor nearby. And thank You for keepin’ us safe thus far.”
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