by Amy Rognlie
Charlotte nodded, giving Raine’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll pray for you.”
Raine sank down on the bed remembering the day Paul had left. She had pressed the locket she always wore into his hand, needing to give him a part of herself to take with him. . .
She felt the pain stab her heart anew, and slipped to her knees, calling out to her only strength. Father, please help me. I love Paul so much, and I always thought one day I would find him again. I need Your peace. She stayed on her knees, a tiny flame of hope flickering in her heart. The man did say that he didn’t know for sure that Paul is dead, she told herself. But then why haven’t you heard from him in so many years?
She pushed that thought out of her mind, concentrating instead on the person who had brought her the news. What was his name? Ben something or other, she recalled. Tall and golden, he was the perfect counterpart to dark-haired, compactly-built Paul. What a pair they must have been. They had to have been close friends for Paul to entrust Ben with the locket, she mused.
The locket! Why hadn’t she opened it before now? Maybe there was a message from Paul! Almost dropping it in her haste, she finally got the small heart open. Something white fell to the floor, so minute she might have missed it had she not seen it fall. She picked it up, unfolding the tiny piece of paper with trembling fingers.
Her heart began to pound as she recognized Paul’s firm handwriting. Even in her agitation, she smiled to see that he had written in code. How like him. Racking her brain to remember the ciphers she had not used in years, she experimented for several minutes. It was just a simple substitution cipher; she was sure of it. She frowned in concentration, then smiled as it suddenly came to her. She decoded all that was legible, disappointed to find that most of the message was obliterated by waterstains.
Would Ben know what the missing words were? Could she trust him? Surely if Paul trusted him with the locket, I can trust him with the message, she decided, remembering his gentle eyes.
❧
Engrossed in his work, Ben started when he realized he was not alone in the office. He caught his breath when he saw Raine standing just inside the door, smiling at him uncertainly. How lovely she is, he thought, taking in the eager face and demure dress. Her dark curls were piled on top of her head today in the fashionable Gibson girl style. He was glad she wasn’t wearing a hat, and wondered briefly what her hair would look like flowing around her face and down her back.
“How are you, Raine?” Ben rose to offer her a seat. He caught a whiff of her perfume and forced himself to sit down behind his desk.
“Quite well, thank you,” she said. “Ben,” she began, then stopped, as though suddenly shy.
“What is it, Raine? Did you come up with some questions?” He was charmed with the way she held her chin down the tiniest bit, looking up at him.
“Yes, I. . . Did you know what was in the locket?”
He shook his head, saying nothing.
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Ben, how well did you know Paul?”
“He was my first mate and friend for two years.” He looked into her eyes and saw the confusion there. “You can trust me, Raine,” Ben said. “Paul was like a brother to me.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then silently she pulled the water-stained note from her pocket and handed it to him. He stiffened as he stared at the strange writing. So, it was true all along. He wouldn’t have believed it of Paul, but this proved it now, didn’t it?
Raine’s laughter broke into his glum thoughts. “I take it Paul didn’t teach you any ciphers. I would have thought in all your time together, he would have shared his great passion with you.”
She didn’t seem to notice Ben’s lack of response as she retrieved the note from him. “As you can see, the words near the bottom are missing. I was hoping you could help me fill in the gaps.” She looked up at him appealingly. “What I have so far doesn’t make much sense to me, but maybe you’ll understand it: ‘Am being pursued. Go to 284 H. . . Ask. . . key. I will be. . .going. . . C. . . Love, P.’ ”
Ben recovered himself quickly. Either Raine was an innocent party, or she played her part extremely well. He’d just play along for awhile and see what happened.
“Let’s see. . . Go to 284 H. . .284. . .284. . . Sounds like an address,” he muttered. “Wait a minute!” Whirling around to his file cabinet, he dug through it a moment, then triumphantly pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is a list of our crewmen’s home addresses,” he explained. “Ah, here it is! 284 High Street! Paul lived at 284 High Street in Boston!”
Raine jumped up from her chair with a shriek of joy. “But what does the rest of the message mean?” she asked, returning his wide smile.
“I don’t know, Raine,” he said, sobering. “But at least you have a good start. I’ll. . .”
“Mr. Thackeray, Miss Daniels is. . . Oh, excuse me.” Ben’s clerk backed out the door in confusion as he saw Raine.
“That’s fine, Jerry. I’ll be there in a moment,” Ben called to the retreating clerk.
“Anyway, Raine, I’ll think about the message and see if I can come up with anything else. Can you come back to the office in the morning?”
“Certainly,” Raine said crisply, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
“I’ll be looking forward to it, Raine Ellen.” Ben’s voice was soft.
After she left, he leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing about his lips. The look that had crossed Raine’s face when Miss Daniels had been announced had been priceless. Nevertheless, he was loathe to face the consequences of keeping one Vida Daniels waiting, so he had unwillingly hurried Paul’s lovely fiancée on her way.
Watching her out the window now as he rose to admit Miss Daniels, Ben was startled as he glimpsed a large, red-haired man standing in the shadows of a the tavern next door. The man watched Raine until she disappeared from view, then turned and stared intently at Ben’s office. Apparently satisfied, he sauntered onto the busy wharf and was swallowed up in the crowd.
Something about the man seemed familiar to Ben, but he couldn’t be sure. He would have given it more thought, but the insistent tapping on his office door grew unavoidable. Rolling his eyes in aggravation, he opened the door to a very red-faced Miss Daniels, narrowly missing being jabbed by the end of her parasol as she pushed past him into the room.
“Good morning, Miss Daniels,” Ben said as politely as possible. “I was just coming out to greet you. Won’t you have a chair?” A chair in another country would do nicely, he thought.
❧
Her irritation inexplicably erased by the warm smile Ben had given her as she left his office, Raine had smiled at Ben in return and then, hoping to get a glimpse of Miss Daniels, she took her time in passing through the outer office. But besides the clerk Jerry who studiously avoided looking her way, the only others present were two elderly women. Neither of them could possibly be Miss Daniels, she surmised disappointedly.
Strolling back to the Mission, she pondered what her next step should be. Is this Your doing, Father? she prayed. The tiny seed of desire to go to America had been planted long ago, but had never sprouted until today. Am I to go to Boston? Please show me Your will, Lord.
Something was tugging at the back of her mind, causing her to lose her train of thought. She glanced behind her several times, feeling as though she were being watched. Unable to catch a glimpse of anyone, she shrugged the feeling aside as she entered the Mission building. The familiar smell of ancient books, unwashed children, and stewed onions was somehow comforting, and her little room felt cool after the hot mid-morning sun. She knelt by her bed, suddenly feeling full of unexplained anticipation. Picking up her Bible, she began reading where she had left off last night. And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not know: I will make darkness light before them. . . The verse from Isaiah leapt out at her, filling her heart with the peace that she needed. The Bible was talking about her life, she real
ized. “I need You to lead me,” she whispered. “I can’t see where I’m going and I will be walking some unfamiliar paths. . .”
By the next morning, the tiny sprout of desire to go to America had bloomed into a magnificent flower. She had resolved one thing—she was going to Boston! The last she had heard from Paul, he had been in Boston. And now the message in the locket. She was sure it was not a coincidence.
I’ll find you, Paul, she vowed. By God’s grace I’ll find you.
Convinced that Ben could help her, Raine rehearsed her request as she dressed. Surely such a close friend of Paul’s would be willing to give her a little advice, wouldn’t he? Even if he wouldn’t agree to help her, she’d get to Boston somehow. I know You’re leading me there, Lord. She brushed her long, dark hair until it shone, then made a face at herself in the mirror. Just who are you trying to impress, Raine Thomas? She laughed out loud, her heart light. It felt so good to be happy again.
Twisting her hair into a loose chignon, she chose her favorite hat. More comfortable than the rest of the hats she owned, the small cream-colored toque was trimmed with navy velvet. It was perfect with her favorite shirt-waist suit.
She took one last peek in the mirror and closed the door firmly behind her. Her hurried descent down the stairs was anything but ladylike, so it was with some dismay that she found Mr. Duncan waiting for her at the foot of the stairway.
“Good day, Miss Thomas.” He nodded politely, obviously choosing to ignore her breach of conduct. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Have you had any success in finding a new. . .ah, position?”
“I just may have, Mr. Duncan.” She tried hard not to smile at the expression on his face. She always imagined he must have perpetual stomach acid or some other malady to make him frown so.
“Humph.” He shook his head as she yielded to the temptation to smile. Her smile broadened as she sailed out the door.
❧
Pushing through the door that read “Thackeray Shipping Co.,” Raine nearly ran headlong into Jerry, who seemed to be embarrassed to be caught combing the few strands of hair he had left on his head.
“Pardon me, Jerry,” she apologized to the clerk. “Is Mr. Thackeray in yet this morning?”
“Not until nine.” He cocked his head, reminding her of a large parrot she had seen once at the fair.
She looked at the clock. Ten minutes till nine. She sat down, then stood up, too excited to sit still. Pacing around the little office, the many drawings and photographs that cluttered the walls caught her eye. She stopped in front of a grouping of framed sketches depicting various ships. The Ladyhawk, the Golden Hind, the Half Moon, the Goodspeed, the Constellation. What romantic names these ships bore. Maybe Paul had sailed on one of these.
She could almost see him standing on the deck, wearing a smart blue uniform. A smile creased his face while the wind ruffled his coal-black hair. . .
“Good morning, Miss Thomas.”
She whirled around. “Mr. Thackeray! You startled me!”
His twinkling blue eyes held the same look as six-year-old Tim’s had the day he had put a frog in her desk drawer. “Please, call me Ben. May I escort you into my office?” He pulled out a chair for Raine. “Now, tell me what that sparkle in your eye means.”
“I’m going to America!” Ben’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing as she continued. “I’ve been saving my money for a long time so I could start searching for Paul. The last time I heard from him, he was in Boston, and the address in the locket just confirms that I should begin searching there,” she explained logically. Her green eyes shone with determination. “If Paul is alive, I will find him.”
Ben’s eyes lingered on her face, his expression almost wistful. He said, “It sounds as if you’ve pretty much made up your mind, Raine. How do you plan on getting there?”
“Well, I. . .”
“You aren’t planning to go alone?” he interrupted, suddenly remembering the man he had seen watching her earlier.
“Well, yes, I. . .”
“Do you know how dangerous New York can be, let alone the journey over there?” He was incredulous. “Besides, you’d never make it in without a sponsor.”
“Ben,” Raine said quietly. “I’m not afraid, and I do have a place to stay once I get there. My Uncle John who lives in Boston has offered over and over to sponsor me.” She hesitated, and then said, “I was hoping you could recommend a reputable ship. I’ve heard the horror stories. . .”
Ben nodded. He had seen some of the wretched vessels firsthand. He would never put his worst enemy aboard such a ship, if they could be called ships. He stared out the window, an idea forming slowly. “How long would it take you to get your papers in order?” he asked finally.
“I was hoping to leave within the month.”
“Hmm.”
She waited.
At last he said, “Yes, I think that will work out perfectly.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Simple.” He grinned at her. “You can go with me as far as New York, then I’ll escort you the rest of the way to. . . Where did you say you were going to stay?”
Raine shook her head. “What do you mean, go with you?” She stared at him.
“You can lower your eyebrows, Miss Thomas. I’m not suggesting anything improper.” He chuckled at the blush that rose to her cheeks. “You know that we don’t take many passengers on our ships.” He paused until she nodded. “But I was planning to go to New York this month to take care of some business anyway. I would be glad for the pleasure of your company.”
“On one of your cargo ships?” she asked, considering the plan.
“Yes.” He made a face. “It’s not as luxurious as a passenger ship, of course, but you would have your own cabin, and the food is decent. Oh, and there will be several other women aboard,” he added, putting to rest her last fear.
She eyed him thoughtfully. Could she trust this man? It was hard to believe she was actually considering going halfway across the world, much less with a man she hardly knew. What would Papa think? And what if Ben weren’t as trustworthy as he seemed? What if. . . Suddenly the peace that she had felt after her prayer the day before came flooding over her again.
“When do we leave?”
“The Capernaum departs in sixteen days. Can you be ready?”
“The Capernaum?”
A strange look dropped into Ben’s eyes. “All my ships are named after Biblical cities. I’m not sure why, actually. I suppose it’s a habit I picked up from my father.” He cleared his throat. “Can you be ready to go by then?”
“I’ll be ready. How much will I owe you?”
He looked at her blankly. “Owe me? Oh, for the passage. Let’s just say it’s a favor to an old friend.”
Raine was overwhelmed. She had been wondering if the small amount she had managed to save over the last few years would be enough. “Thank you,” she whispered, sudden tears threatening to spill over.
He stepped closer to her and said softly, “Paul was more than just a first mate, he was my friend. It’s the least I can do.”
She gave him a small smile, and she saw his eyes widen, his lips part—and then he took a quick step backward and said brusquely, “Now—I’m sure you have a lot of things to attend to before we depart, and I need to get busy with this paperwork.” He moved back another step away from her. “I’ll call on you sometime next week to make arrangements for the voyage.”
Raine blinked at the abrupt change in mood, then turned to leave. “I’ll be ready,” she said softly. He didn’t look up from his desk.
❧
Ben rose to stand at the window as soon as the door closed behind her. He stared after her, wanting nothing more than to run after her. Even the photograph of her he had fallen in love with years ago didn’t do justice to her beauty.
I could almost wish she would never find Paul. . . He turned away sharply. Get ahold of yourself, Thackeray, he told himself. Her heart will always belong to Paul.
❧
Unaware of the turmoil she was causing Ben, Raine made her way home to the Mission with a light step. Feeling as though an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she dipped herself a glass of ice cold water from the bucket in the kitchen, then went directly to Mr. Duncan’s office. Her knock was firm.
“Come.”
Raine entered the stuffy office and immediately began to recite the speech she had practiced on the way. “. . .and so, I’ll be departing in approximately two weeks.”
“Well, this is a surprise.” He sniffed. “I suppose you’ve made proper arrangements for your, ah, excursion?”
She was slightly ashamed of herself for enjoying his reaction to her news. “Yes, sir. I will be traveling on a reputable ship, and I already have a sponsor in America.”
“Your duty to the Mission does not expire until the end of the month, Miss Thomas,” Mr. Duncan reminded her. “I expect you to fulfill your obligation.”
She sighed in frustration. She had thought he would be happy to be rid of her. “Mr. Graysdon has already arrived to take my place, has he not?”
“Yes, he has.”
“I sincerely doubt that one extra day will be a burden on him,” Raine said, hoping she sounded more polite than she felt.
“I will not tolerate impertinence, Miss Thomas,” he snapped. “If you insist on leaving on the thirtieth, I will subtract two days’ wages from your salary.”
She gritted her teeth. Why did this man remind her so much of Papa? Sending up a silent prayer for patience, she restrained herself from dumping the glass of water down his back. Forcing her voice to stay calm, she looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Duncan, but I don’t have much of a choice. I have to be on that ship when it sails.”
His raised eyebrows were his only response.