He’d removed his cap to more easily work his camera and the sea breeze ruffled the curls at the base of his neck, teasing her fingertips with a tingle. Would they curl around her fingers or smell like lemons? Her breath turned shallow.
What if last night hadn’t been pretend? If the playful banter and easy trust melded into a remarkable romance? Would he be able to look beyond her stains to see her for who she truly was? Love her beyond them?
He glanced up at her over the rim of his camera and topped his grin off with a wink. Her smile bloomed with a breathtaking flutter in her stomach. If only…
A woman of substantial girth and even more impressive hat passed between them, blocking her from his charm long enough for her face to cool. It was one of those hats of older fashion; almost the size of a carriage wheel with enough flowers and feathers to ensure the woman held near-royal social status…or wished to. Having been removed from higher society for the past few years, the hat surprised even Ashleigh. When the woman moved out of the way, Sam’s wide-eyed gaze still followed her slow gait across the deck, parasol making a rhythmic click against the wood.
Their gazes locked, they shared a pinched-lip smile that burst open in shared laughter.
“So that is what I’m going to see in this high society of England?” he whispered, steadying his camera with a hand and leaning closer to her. He tilted his head to catch another glimpse of the woman. “Why would she need a parasol? She’s thoroughly protected from the rain underneath that umbrella of a hat.”
Ashleigh caught her snicker in her gloved hand, glad for the light-hearted distraction. “Balance, my dear Sam. With a hat of such…magnitude, the poor woman could barely stand upright without some assistance, don’t you think?”
“Really?”
“When those hats were in top fashion a few years ago, Mother insisted on the largest one in the shop. Don’t you remember? It had at least three ribbons, a bird’s nest, and…”
“The ostrich feathers.”
“That’s the one.” She tapped his shoulder to add to her words. “One gust of wind and she would’ve blown over if not for her faithful parasol keeping her stable.” Ashleigh shook her head and pressed a palm to her stomach. “What women suffer for fashion? I was thankful for simple nursing uniforms to keep me from the tedious use of decorative hats and pinching corsets.”
“And you’re even more beautiful without them.” His gaze roamed over her, a caress, and his hand rose as if to touch her hair. “I’ve always preferred your hair uncovered.”
He blinked, as if he hadn’t intended to voice his thoughts. Warmth fused to her cheeks.
He looked back to the horizon, cleared his throat and gestured toward the green-gray mounds of land in the distance. “I’m glad the fog cleared so we could get a view of the Irish coast.”
She swallowed down a heated breath and followed Sam’s gaze to the horizon. The last remnants of morning fog clung to the green coast on the horizon. A mixture of relief and fear washed over her. Land. With the warnings of torpedoes, nothing looked more reassuring, but with landfall came a closer step to Catherine -- Ashleigh’s next conflict.
“Are you all right?” Sam’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Why didn’t you bring your plate camera? Didn’t you say it made clearer photos?”
“It’s with my luggage.” He shook his head and placed his palm over his heart. “Besides, it’s my pride and joy and much too nice a camera to toss around on the deck of a ship.”
His boyish grin tugged her closer. Oh, the power that man had over her emotions! Her stomach twisted at the thought. Another man with power over her? No, it wasn’t the same. It was new and gentle. Safe? Her rapid pulse begged to differ.
She stepped toward the railing and looked out toward gray-green mounds against the horizon. Sunlight sparkled across the waves, a bridge of gold across the water. It was easy to see God in the vastness of the sea and the strength of those waves. She closed her eyes to the sun’s warmth and breathed in the salty air. Her thoughts almost formed into a prayer. But God didn’t care. Not for her, or He would have stopped her father years ago.
“Ash, come take a look at this view.”
She pushed away her thoughts and walked to Sam’s side. Carefully she leaned close to the small leather-bound box on its precarious tripod perch. His giddy delight in teaching her how it worked dampened a little of her nervousness at his closeness. She reached to steady the little box at the same time as Sam and their fingers brushed against each other. A tingle shot from her hand to her heart. She attempted to pull her hand away, but he captured her fingers and placed them on the side of the camera, firming his palm over them.
“Hold it like this.” His voice breathed past her ear, nearly weakening her knees to the deck boards.
He stood behind her now. His arms hemmed her in on either side, breath warming her cheek. She swallowed, or tried to, but her dry mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Ignore these ridiculous feelings, Ashleigh. The only problem was they weren’t ridiculous. They were wonderful.
She took a deep breath and looked back through the lens, trying to ignore the safety in the haven of his arms. It was remarkable how one could frame a piece of the world. The monstrous ocean wasn’t as frightening in such small doses. In fact, the angle at which the sun glazed the water held a magical, almost hypnotic quality. So vast and mysterious, and yet as beautiful as starlight’s reflection in a pond.
“It’s beautiful. It truly frames the world.”
“One of the many reasons I’m obsessed with it, I think.” Sam’s voice rumbled low, vibrating from her earlobe down her neck. He guided the camera to a different scene, nearer the coast. She ignored the influence of his closeness on the chaos in her stomach. “Can you see the coast now?”
“Oh, yes, it’s lovely.” She pulled back and smiled up at him, but hadn’t calculated the distance.
His face hovered above hers, eyes so intense she thought he might read her rebel thoughts. His brow tilted upward, slightly, as if he was searching for an answer to an unvoiced question.
She didn’t have an answer. She couldn’t have an answer. But she did look down at his mouth as if he’d spoken it. Two inches and their lips might touch. Oh, Heaven help me!
As if drugged, she drew her attention from his and back to the camera. The sea rumbled out to meet the distant shore with waves as confused as the emotions crashing in her heart. She couldn’t wait to get off of this boat. There would be plenty of opportunities to flee Sam’s presence in Edensbury. She knew all the hiding places.
As a child, hiding had been a survival skill honed to near perfection.
She blinked the framed scene back into view. A strange stream of bubbles broke into her line of vision making a surprisingly straight path through the waves. A fish? Whale? Whatever it was, it moved fast.
“Sam, look here. There’s some strange fish coming toward the ship.”
He offered a doubtful smirk as he took the camera. “A fish coming toward the ship?” He peered through the lens. “I don’t know of any fi—” His body stiffened. “No.”
A chill of awareness trembled down her spine. “What, Sam? It can’t be—”
“Torpedo on the starboard side!”
The shout rang down from a place above her followed immediately by another from somewhere else on the boat. Sam’s gaze locked with Ashleigh’s and everything slowed. Sounds muffled except for the thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears. Sam pushed his camera aside and took her into his arms as an explosion sent them staggering like ragdolls toward the railing. No, dear Lord. We’ve been hit.
Chapter Seven
Sam steadied her against his chest as the vibration rocked to a stop. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She pulled back and released her grip on his jacket. Her hat crooked to one side so she pulled it off altogether. “You?”
“Fine.” He sent another glance down her body and then scanned the crowd, his hands keeping a firm hold on her should
ers.
Some people righted themselves and went into immediate hysteria, running to the railing or snatching up their children. Others resumed their promenade without more than a nod. Was she dreaming?
“We’ve been hit?”
Sam offered a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. It will take more than one torpedo to sink a ship this large. Besides, we’re so close to land—”
A second explosion, larger than the first, cut off Sam’s words. The impact ripped them apart and slammed Ashleigh to the deck, face first. She bit back a cry as her wrist twisted beneath her, but quickly rolled onto her back. The world shuddered into a mass of chaos covered with a charcoal cloud. Flames burst into the pale blue sky and rained hot debris against her cheek. She covered her face and sat up, dusting the ash from her skirt and taking in the swarm of frantic people. Her stomach clenched. Could the ship survive two explosions?
“Ashleigh.”
Sam called through a myriad of cries and shouts. He reached toward her, pressed between a crowd of people. Had the shock of the explosion knocked him so far down the deck? She pushed herself up on hands and knees, but almost lost her balance again. Was she dizzy? She pressed a palm to her head.
Sam was by her side, steadying her with his hands on her arms. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I may be dizzy—” She saw it then, the deck clearly slanting toward the sea. A steep downhill tilt. Her worse fears ignited. “Good heavens, Sam, the ship.”
Sam gave her a gentle shake and drew her gaze back to his. “Let’s get to the port side.” He reached for her hand. “And don’t let go.”
A mass exodus erupted from the companionway, spilling toward them in a wave of panic. Sam pushed ahead, keeping a vice grip on her hand, and wedging them nearer to the companionway.
“Do you think we’ll make it to shore?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced back from where they’d walked and his jaw tightened. He fastened a sober gaze on her. “We’re going down fast.”
She followed his stare. The deck’s angle already brought waves into view at the bow. Officers in white suits worked to guide the multitudes into some order while attempting to move toward the lifeboats, but streams of people blocked their path.
Sam pushed ahead. Seconds stretched to minutes, but he never let go of her hand, taking the brunt of the stampede. The increasing tilt of the deck added to their slow progress, as gravity tugged them toward the starboard side.
With a final pull Sam drew her with him into the temporary haven of the companionway. Ashleigh leaned against the wall a moment and closed her eyes, trying to quiet her fears with a deep breath. One step in front of the other.
“Go through to the port side, away from the sea. There might be a chance at lowering those lifeboats in time.” He squeezed her shoulders and stepped back. “I’m going to my room for life vests.”
His words jarred her attention wide awake. Below? Even now waves lapped into view at the bow, and only a few minutes had passed since the explosion. There wasn’t time. She gripped his sleeve. “I’m going with you.”
“Not this time.”
Her hold tightened with her resolve. “You will not risk your life for me. It’s too dangerous.”
Sam raised a brow and stepped back, breaking her hold on him. “I need you to listen.” His voice almost pleaded; his gaze followed suit. “I need to make sure you’re safe.”
The ship groaned underneath, confirming the concern on Sam’s face. A shudder ran through its massive form, nearly shaking them to the ground again. The diamond reflection from the shaking chandelier overhead sparkled over Sam’s face with rainbows. Ashleigh glanced up in time to see it break from its place in the ceiling and dangle, readied for a free-fall toward Sam.
“Sam!” She grabbed up her skirts and dived forward. The chandelier snapped. She tackled him to the ground as the glass fixture pelted them with glass, missing them by inches.
Ashleigh didn’t move. His rapid breaths matched hers as she lay atop him, the scent of lemon forcing a fresh wave of tears. Too close. She fisted his shirt and buried her face into his shoulder, ignoring the impropriety of their position or the accusing voices from her past. None of it mattered right now, as they waited for the next breath – if there would even be a next breath. Mere inches and he’d have become a part of devastation of bodies certain to crowd the bottom of the sea.
He wrapped his arms around her, warm, safe, and as close to Heaven as she’d ever known on Earth. “You saved my life, little girl,” he whispered into her hair, and punctuated his words with a kiss to her head.
She rested in his embrace for a moment, crowding out the doubts and fear with the overwhelming awareness of him. His arms tightened, strong, yet gentle. Oh yes, she loved him--and for what time they had left, she’d clasp those feelings just as Sam held her now.
She lifted her face from his shoulder and lost her gaze in his. Tenderness swelled along with more tears. Ashleigh sniffled and pushed up from his chest, her lips quivered into a smile. “I think you owe me a favor for my good deed.”
Sam sat up and leaned forward to wipe a tear from her cheek, his smile crooked and soft. The sweetness of his red-rimmed gaze probed deep, touching a hollowed out part of her heart with a glimmer of hope. “Hmm, you going to hold this over me for the rest of our lives?”
As short as those might be.
“Live.” She patted the wrinkled spot where her hands had fisted his shirt. “Live through this thing with me.”
His hand cradled her cheek and for the briefest second, he looked as if he might kiss her. Her gaze rested on his lips, wondering what it might feel like to kiss her friend. Her smile grew with the thought. Kissing friends? The notion warmed her to her toes.
Another massive shake of the ship broke the spell and sent her back into motion. What on earth was she doing? Clearly tragedy had her going mad. She readied herself to stand, but Sam took hold of her elbows and brought them up together.
“I’m going for the life vest.” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “Go to the port side and look for a lifeboat. I’ll find you.”
He pulled back but she caught his arm, forcing her tight voice to work above a whisper. “My stateroom is closer. Here.” She took the key from her pocket and planted her boots against the slant of the ship. Too fast. How could this giant ship sink so quickly?
Sam’s palm closed around her hand, his gaze lingering on hers, unspoken messages passing between them. She didn’t want to let go of him. What if he never came back?
“Sam…”
He seemed to read her thoughts. “I’ll find you.”
With one last squeeze of her hand, he took the key and disappeared toward the stairway, down below in the bowels of the dying ship. Her body itched to run after him. To be with him if the worst happened. She could die wrapped in his arms.
An elderly woman stumbled in front of her and fell to her knees in a heap of tears. “We’re going to die.”
Ashleigh sent another look in the direction of the stairway and drew in a deep breath for strength. Oh God, if you hear me at all. Please bring Sam back to me. Please keep him safe.
She tucked her fear deep inside and allowed the cool-calm of indifference to separate her logic and emotions. Get to the port side of the ship and find a lifeboat.
Ashleigh leaned down to the woman and placed a hand to her bent shoulder. “Come now, you’ll be trampled if you keep to the floor.”
“We’re sinking. The ship is sinking,” the woman muttered. A hint of watery brown eyes peeked up from beneath weathered hands.
“Yes, it is.” Ashleigh patted the lady’s arm and offered a tight smile. “But there’s no time for hysterics. The only thing to be done is to find a safe way off the ship, isn’t it?”
The woman stared up at Ashleigh, no doubt searching for courage Ashleigh didn’t feel. But she knew how to fake it. How to give something she didn’t possess. And…it usually worked.
The woman dri
ed her eyes with her dainty handkerchief. “Yes, of course.”
“Very good. Now step this way and hold to my arm.”
Ashleigh pulled the woman with her to the port side, but the view revealed its own difficulties. Whereas the lifeboats should have dangled over the open sea, the angle of the ship shifted them inward toward the deck. A few boats near the stern rested against the deck and were already filled with people, but how were they going to lift a boat full of people over the side of the ship? Was that even possible?
Ashleigh walked out of the companionway, the elderly woman still fastened to her side, and scanned the stern for Sam. He couldn’t have gotten below and back in time. She started for the nearest lifeboat.
A sudden chorus of screams pierced the scramble of noise around her. Ashleigh looked in time to see a crowded lifeboat sliding down the deck toward her, an avalanche of human bodies and white wood. With the selectivity of a freight train, it closed in on its victims and ran them over, busting against some of the other boats as it crashed down the incline.
Ashleigh lurched toward the wall, away from the crushing boat and tried to bring the poor woman with her, but she let go of Ashleigh’s arm just as the ship barreled down on them. With the sudden release of the woman’s weight, Ashleigh’s back slammed against the ship’s inner wall, knocking breath from her lungs. She slid down the wall, trapped in place as the horrific scene unfolded before her. Thousands of pounds of boat and people crushed the woman and dragged her body along to the bow where it settled with a deadened thud in a heap of wreckage.
Ashleigh held her stomach as she stood, grappling for the next breath. She’d seen some frightening things in her career thus far, but nothing prepared her for the mass destruction of this tragedy. Tens? Hundreds? Dead already. She locked her knees to keep them from shaking and pulled her gaze from the pile of debris slowly covering with sea water. She struggled to a stand, releasing her breath a quiet sob.
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