When the Storm Breaks

by Bonnie Leon

  Rebecca folded the last of her traveling clothes and put them in her bag, then went to check on the children. When she stepped into the nursery, she found Daniel standing over the crib, gazing down at Audry.

  He looked up, his blue eyes mournful.

  Rebecca joined him, clasping his hand in hers. She looked down at their sleeping daughter. “She’s a wonder.”

  “Bright little thing,” Daniel said, his voice tight.

  Rebecca leaned against him. “I’m going to miss you so badly. I wish you could come with me.”

  “Next time, eh?”

  “Joseph will miss you.”

  “Right. But he’ll have you and Callie. And I’m sure your aunt will win his heart in no time.”

  “Yes. I’m sure of that.” Rebecca leaned on the crib railing. “Callie would gladly trade places with you.”

  “She’s never been anywhere but the flats. I suppose traveling halfway ’round the world must feel daunting.”

  “It does to me, and I’ve traveled quite a bit.”

  “But you’ll be home soon.” Daniel kissed her temple.

  Rebecca rested her head against Daniel’s shoulder.

  “When I was tucking Joseph into bed, all he could talk about was going on the big boat and all the adventures he was going to have in America. He’s glad for an adventure. Course, what little boy isn’t.”

  “I’m sure he’ll have a grand time.” Rebecca didn’t want to have an adventure. She wanted to stay here with her husband. She looked up at him. “Isn’t there any way we can stay?”

  “I wish you could. But I can’t think of a better solution than your spending time with your aunt.”

  “You’re sure we’ll be home soon? This will be resolved quickly?”

  “Yes. I promise you.”

  Rebecca burrowed against Daniel’s chest, wrapping her arms about him. “I pray you’re right.”

  Woodman tended the horses while he waited for Rebecca and the children. Looking miserable, Koora sat on the front seat of the wagon that carried the luggage and trunks.

  Rebecca stepped out of the house, pausing for a moment at the top of the steps. Daniel stood at the barn door and watched, his face lined with misery. She took a quieting breath and started down the steps.

  Willa stood with Rebecca while Joseph ran across the yard to his father. Daniel scooped up the little boy. “Well, lad. You have a fine time, now.”

  “I will.”

  Callie moved to the surrey, Audry in her arms.

  Willa grasped Rebecca’s hand. “I’ll keep you in my prayers, dear.”

  Rebecca couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. She squeezed Willa’s hand.

  “He can do all things. Nothing is too difficult for God.”

  Rebecca nodded, watching Daniel play with Joseph. “I believe you.” She hugged Willa.

  The older woman’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It’s going to seem awfully quiet without the children.” She forced a smile. “You tell Mildred hello for me.”

  “Of course.”

  Using a lace handkerchief, Willa dabbed at her eyes. She took Rebecca’s arm and walked with her to the surrey. “Have a wonderful time, dear. And don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” She hugged her again. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Rebecca blinked away tears.

  Woodman helped Callie into the surrey. She settled herself on a seat. “So yer off ta America, eh?” Woodman said.

  “Yais. Decided it was time ta see a bit of the world.” She glanced at a mournful Koora. “I’ll be back soon though.”

  Daniel lifted Joseph onto his shoulders and walked toward Rebecca. “You be a good lad.” He handed him down to Rebecca.

  “I will,” Joseph said.

  Daniel reached into the surrey and rested a hand on Audry’s dark curls, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. Stiffly he straightened and then tousled Joseph’s hair. “Take good care of your mum.”

  Joseph smiled brightly and nodded.

  Daniel’s eyes rested on Rebecca’s. “This is for the best.”

  “I know. But I’ll miss you terribly.” Rebecca gazed at his warm, blue eyes and gently laid her hands on his cheeks. “You be careful. Don’t take any chances.” She couldn’t stop the tears. “I love you.”

  Daniel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll see each other again soon, luv. I promise.”

  Rebecca stood at the railing as the ship steamed through the waters of Moreton Bay and moved toward the open sea. As the green shoreline grew smaller, Rebecca held the lush foliage in her vision, unwilling to let it go. When individual trees and plants and the place where the green and the aqua shore merged, her mind carried her back to the day she’d first seen this shoreline. It had been a time of fear and disquiet. Yet even then the beauty had calmed her unease.

  Callie gripped the top of the balustrade with one hand and clasped Audry against her with the other. Joseph stood beside his mother, peering at the open ocean. “It’s big, eh?”

  “What’s big, dear?” Rebecca asked.

  “Water’s big.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Her brown eyes wide, Callie gently bounced a fussing Audry. She moved the infant to her shoulder. “I don’t know ’bout this, mum. Never been far from home.” She gazed at the quickly disappearing coastline. “I’m wishin’ I was at the station.”

  Rebecca rested a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “Try not to be afraid. We’re absolutely safe.”

  “It’s not ’bout bein’ safe, mum, but I don’t know what’s comin’. On the flats I know the earth, the songs that it sings, but ’ere, well . . .” She gazed out over the widening sea. “I know nothin’ ’bout this place.”

  “You’ll get used to it. And I think you’ll find the journey thrilling. You introduced me to your culture; now I get to share mine.” With a smile, she took Audry and settled the little girl in her arms. “It’s not easy to let go of what’s familiar. I remember being quite anxious when I left Boston.” She cuddled Audry close. “If only Daniel were with us, this would be an exciting journey to my first home.”

  “Home, mum? I think yer leavin’ yer home.”

  “Yes. That’s true. But not for long.”

  Audry whimpered and started to cry. “She’s hungry,” Rebecca said. “I’ll feed her.”

  Joseph peered around his mother at a little boy who was blowing hard on a small tin trumpet. The sound coming out of the instrument whined, and Rebecca wished he’d stop.

  Joseph clutched the top of the railing, watching the boy as he paraded back and forth. Rebecca rested a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to go down to the cabin with me and your sister?”

  He shook his head no.

  “I’ll stay up ’ere with him, mum.” Callie’s brown eyes warmed. “The lad needs ta walk ’bout a bit, especially after all the riding he’s been doin’. The fresh air will be good for us, eh?” She ruffled Joseph’s blond hair.

  “Can I stay?” Joseph looked up at his mother, eyes hopeful.

  “Yes. Have fun.” She looked at Callie. “I’ll feed Audry and put her down for a nap. I think I could do with one myself. Please come to the cabin anytime you like.”

  Callie glanced at a man who had fixed his eyes on her.

  He wore a scowl and talked around a cigar resting on his lower lip. “They’ll let just about anyone on steamships these days,” he told a woman standing beside him.

  The woman was fashionably dressed and looked to be in her twenties. Raising a well-defined eyebrow, she pulled her coat closer about her. “It would seem so.”

  “No need to worry. Most certainly a servant,” the man said.

  Callie’s mouth was set, and her brows looked pinched. “Maybe I ought ta come with ya, mum.”

  “Certainly,” Rebecca said. She’d heard the conversation, and outrage roiled through her. People have no manners at all, she thought. No respect.

  Without even a moment to consider what she was about to do, Rebecca strode up to
the man. “The person you’re referring to is called Callie, and she’s my friend.”

  Callie’s eyes widened.

  “She’s been kind enough to help me while I travel. Two children are difficult to manage on a long journey. I would appreciate it if you would keep your rude comments to yourself. I’ve always believed that people with class possess genteel manners and treat others with benevolence. It appears you have neither.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

  “Come along, Callie. I think we’d be more comfortable in our room.” She glanced over her shoulder at the couple. If she weren’t so angry, she would have laughed at their outraged expressions.

  Callie was shocked. She’d never seen Rebecca behave in such a manner, not toward strangers, anyway. And no white person had ever stood up for her against another white.

  She followed Rebecca to their room and said under her breath, “Mum, I am a servant.”

  “I see you more as a friend, Callie. That’s how I’d like things to be between us.”

  “Thank ya, mum. But ya best be careful. Ya ’ave no need for enemies.”

  “And you have no need to worry. Everything will be fine.”

  Callie knew better. Her mistress was asking for trouble, and if things turned out as they usually did, the blame would somehow land on her.

  The sea changed from aqua to gray, and the swells grew larger. Wind tugged at Rebecca’s coat, and she pulled it closed at the neck. “I do hope we don’t have foul weather right off,” Rebecca said as a strong gust threatened to relieve her of her hat. She pressed a hand down on top of it. “I suppose we ought to go in for dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Joseph said, skipping back and forth between the bulkhead and the railing.

  “Stay back from the railing.” Rebecca held Audry closer and rested a hand over the infant’s. “Oh my. Your hands are like ice. We best get you indoors.”

  Callie was cold. She rubbed her arms. “It’s chilly ’ere. Not like home.”

  “Yes. And it will be much colder by the time we arrive in Boston. Winter will have arrived. The leaves will have fallen. I wish you could see the fall colors. They are so vivid—dressing the trees up in gold and red.”

  “Why are the trees gold and red, mum?”

  “The leaves change color in the fall. It’s lovely.”

  “Yais, mum. I believe ya,” Callie said, but she was unconvinced and was more inclined to believe that this trip might be a mistake. It seemed a long way to go to escape Marshal. Better to stand up to a man like that.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No. Anyway, I’ll not be welcomed in the dining room.”

  The couple who had been so disagreeable earlier strolled past. Making no effort to disguise their contempt, they glanced at Rebecca and Callie and then looked away. Callie hoped Rebecca wouldn’t say anything more to them. They passed without a word, and she let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll wait in the room.”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “No. Not so good.”

  Swinging his arms and propelling himself forward with both feet together, Joseph leaped toward Callie. “You sick, Callie?”

  “I’m all roight.”

  “Are you sure?” Rebecca asked. “You look a bit off color.”

  Callie nodded, but she wasn’t well at all. Her stomach churned, and she felt dizzy.

  Rebecca rested her hand on Joseph’s blond head. “Shall we have some dinner?”

  “Food tastes bad.”

  “How can you know that? You’ve only had one meal. I’m sure they’ll be serving something scrumptious tonight.”

  Joseph shrugged and leaned against his mother.

  “Whether you want to or not, you must eat.” Rebecca gazed out over the ocean. It looked dark and rough. “Seems we’re in for a storm. I was hoping for good weather.” She glanced at Joseph and Audry. “I’ve always done well, even in rough seas. I hope the children don’t have any difficulty . . . or you.”

  “What ya mean, mum?”

  “Some people get . . . sick while traveling by ship. Some utterly.”

  “Roight.” Callie swallowed hard. She must be one of them. “I’ll be fine, eh?”

  “I pray so.”

  The weather turned violent, and the seas raised large swells that sent the ocean liner rolling. Each time they climbed up a wave and reeled over the top to ride it back down, Callie suppressed a moan. She lay in bed and tried to remain silent, thinking about the flats and their quiet voice.

  Rebecca laid a cool compress on Callie’s forehead. “There, that might help a bit.”

  “Mum,” Callie removed the compress and pushed up on one arm. “It’s not roight ya takin’ care of me.”

  “And why not? You’re sick and I’m not.”

  Joseph knelt beside the bed and rested his elbows on it. “Why you sick, Callie?”

  A knock sounded at the door, and Joseph charged across the room and opened it. “G’day,” he said, looking up at a tall, skinny steward who himself looked a bit off color.

  “I have your tea, ma’am,” he said, peering in at Rebecca.

  She took the compress and dipped it in a bowl of cool water, then gently laid it on Callie’s forehead again. “Could you put it on the bed stand here?” She looked at Callie. “I want you to try some tea. Perhaps it will settle your stomach.”

  “No, mum. I couldn’t.” Callie turned onto her side.

  “You must try,” Rebecca said gently. She glanced at the steward. “Would you pour a cup please?”

  The man looked at her, confusion on his face, then did as he’d been asked and handed the cup to Rebecca. He stared at Callie a moment.

  “That’s all for now,” Rebecca said, dismissing him.

  The steward nodded and left the room.

  Rebecca helped Callie sit up and held the cup to her lips.

  Callie stared at it, her dark complexion turning pale.

  “Try,” Rebecca urged. “I think a little something in your stomach might help.”

  “The only thing that will help is if the boat stops movin’,” she said weakly.

  “I can imagine how terrible you must feel. I remember the queasiness I had in the mornings when I was expecting Joseph. Tea seemed to help.” She held the cup close to Callie’s mouth. “Just try it.”

  Obediently Callie sipped. “I hope yer roight, mum. ’Cause I never felt so sick before.”

  The storm finally left them, and the steamer moved across quiet seas. As the days passed, Rebecca and the children explored the ship or Rebecca relaxed in a deck chair and read while Joseph played on the promenade deck. Callie remained in the cabin most of the time, except in the evening. Then she’d step out onto the deck and allow the breeze to swirl the smell of sea air about her. Sometimes the expansive ocean reminded her of the flats. She rather liked it and had to admit that its openness was especially grand.

  One evening while she and Rebecca shared a meal, she asked, “Why ya keep ta yerself so much, mum? A young lydie like yerself ought ta be havin’ some fun. Ya shouldn’t be stuck with me.”

  “I don’t mind your company. I prefer it, and I like solitude.”

  “Ya’ve seemed roight sad, mum.”

  “I am. I’m looking forward to seeing my aunt, but I can’t seem to find any enthusiasm for this trip. I can’t stop thinking about Daniel and Douloo. I keep wondering about Mr.

  Marshal and those men. They’re awful. I worry about Daniel and Willa.” She blinked back tears.

  “I don’t know that leaving Douloo was the right decision, but I felt I must obey Daniel.” Using a handkerchief, she dabbed at tears. “What if I never see him again?”

  “Of course ya will.”

  “I want to believe that. But Mr. Marshal is a very determined and very evil man.”

  “Look, Mum! Look at me!” Joseph called as he leaped from one board to the next, moving along the promenade. He grinned at her.

  Rebecca offered him a smile. “Well done.”


  Moving up and down the deck, Joseph continued practicing his jumps.

  Rebecca set aside her book and moved to the railing. She gazed out at the sea. They’d come so far; in only two days they’d dock in San Francisco. She looked westward and wondered what Daniel might be doing at that very moment.

  The breeze picked up and carried moisture into the air. Rebecca pulled her shawl closer. Since marrying Daniel, this would be her first Christmas away from him. Most likely there would be snow and ice in Boston. Before moving to Queensland, she’d expected Christmas weather to be cold. Now sharing Christmas breakfast on the veranda at Douloo seemed more fitting. A longing for home wrapped itself about Rebecca.

  Tears stung. They came so easily these days. Dabbing at them, she glanced down to see Joseph standing beside her.

  “You miss Daddy?”

  Rebecca nodded and bent to hug her little boy.

  “Me too. I want to go home.”

  “We’ll go home soon. This visit is just for a little while.” Rebecca smiled, but worry stirred inside. “We have an adventure ahead of us. There’s so much to see and do in Boston. And your great aunt Mildred will be so happy to see you.”

  “But Daddy’s missing us.”

  Rebecca hugged him again. “Yes. He is. But he’s very busy working, and I’m sure he doesn’t think about our being gone too much.”

  Callie approached, Audry in her arms. “Mum?”

  “Why, hello. How good to see you out and about.” Rebecca studied Callie a moment. She seemed preoccupied. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “I was just needin’ some air.”

  “I’ll take the baby.” Careful to keep Audry bundled inside her blanket, Rebecca cuddled her against her chest.

  Callie leaned on the railing and looked out over the sea. “Was wonderin’ ’bout Boston. What’s it like?”

  “Are you frightened?”

  “No. Just wonderin’ is all.”

  Rebecca suppressed a smile. “Boston’s a fine city. A bit like Brisbane, actually, but larger. It’s quite green, not like the flats. However, by the time we arrive, the weather will be cold. San Francisco’s much warmer than Boston. We’ll be taking the train from there across the country.”