Aboard Providence Read online

  Anna glanced back at her. “I’m surprised you were able to enjoy your summer in Richmond with all the talk of secession.”

  Marian reached for the oak handrail as they approached the staircase. “I enjoyed my time in Richmond very much. My uncle has a breathtaking library. I spent my mornings reading. I wish I could have brought some of the botany books back with me. I knew I couldn’t, so I absorbed all the knowledge I could before I had to come home.” Talking about the library seemed to arouse the scent of books. Marian inhaled deeply even though the smell was only her imagination.

  Anna inclined her head a degree. “You weren’t homesick then?”

  “I didn’t have time to be. There were so many new things to see and do. Well, they were new to me. It was probably the only time I will ever be away from my family.”

  “Yes, and I know your mother missed you terribly.”

  Four of the six Colburn children ran up the staircase’s crimson carpet as Marian and Anna walked down. The Ashton’s spacious home would indeed feel crowded once all eight families were living there, but Doctor Ashton and Reverend Colburn had both insisted it was necessary. Doctor Ashton wanted the families to remain quarantined for a few weeks before the journey to ensure no illness was carried aboard the ship, and Reverend Colburn said living together would prepare them for the confinement of the voyage. The reverend insisted their success as a peaceful society would depend on their ability to give each other grace, and the sooner they learned the habit the better. Regardless of the elders’ purpose, Marian found the notion of communal living both protective and unsettling.

  Anna stopped on the landing beneath the bronze chandelier. “Careful on the steps, children,” she sang out before she disappeared into the foyer, greeting Mrs. Colburn.

  As Marian walked through the formal sitting room, the happy voices filling the house made it feel less like a chilly November afternoon at a private estate and more like a summertime after-church gathering. She dodged the packing crates and stepped toward the kitchen. A tug on her sleeve drew her attention to the youngest Ashton child. “What’s the matter, Sarah?”

  The girl shook her head, and her chin began to quiver. The sight of sweet Sarah upset tore at Marian’s heart. She took the child’s hand and led her into a quiet corner of the cinnamon-scented parlor.

  Marian knelt on the polished floor, lowering herself until she was eye to eye with Sarah. “What’s wrong?”

  Sarah stood still for a moment, drawing her chapped lips into her mouth. Then she leaned close and whispered, “Benjamin said there might be pirates.”

  “When we sail next month?”

  The little girl nodded.

  “Ben said that, did he? Well, I’m sorry my brother is such a naughty boy. He only said that to frighten you. Don’t let him steal your joy.”

  “Will there be pirates?”

  “I doubt there will be any pirates. Besides, we won’t be at sea for long—only a couple of weeks, and then we will get to our new land so we can build a peaceful settlement. And we will do it together—all eight families from the church. It will be a lovely adventure. Don’t you agree?”

  Sarah leaned onto Marian’s bent knee, and her chin stopped quivering.

  Marian played with the girl’s braids and mustered the most reassuring voice she could, even though the voyage would be dangerous. “I suspect we will have such fun on the ship, enjoying the sway of the waves and the beauty of the sails that we won’t want to leave it when we get to our new land.” When Sarah began to smile, Marian continued. “Of course, we will leave the ship because our new home in South America will be filled with magnificent trees and flowers and interesting birds. You like flowers and birds, don’t you?”

  With each question Sarah’s smile grew, mirroring Marian’s.

  “And who knows the discoveries we will make in our new homeland! Our fathers are taking tools and nails to build new houses—maybe not as luxurious as this house—and they’ll build a chapel… and what else shall we build in our new home?”

  “A schoolhouse!”

  “Yes, of course, you’re right! We will need a schoolhouse—perhaps with a bell tower and a swing outside to play on during recess. We should speak to Reverend Colburn about it once we set sail, shouldn’t we?”

  “And I’ll have a pet monkey!”

  “A monkey?” Marian laughed as she stood. “That is up to your mother. My mother would not allow a monkey for a pet, I can tell you that. But I do plan to make discoveries in our new land. Maybe I will name a new species of animal. Actually, I’m much more interested in plants, so perhaps I’ll leave the animal discoveries to you. Does that sound good?”

  “Yes, I want lots of animals. I can name them all!”

  “Excellent!” Marian walked the girl out of the parlor. “When we get to our new land, you shall be the animal explorer and I shall be the plant explorer. We will make our discoveries together and journal all of our findings for future generations to read about. It will be all right—more than right—it will be perfect!”

  Sarah tugged on Marian’s hand. “I wish you were my big sister.”

  “That’s very sweet of you.”

  “Can you be my sister?”

  “It doesn’t work quite like that.”

  “Can we pretend you are… at least until the voyage is over?”

  “I would be honored to be your pretend sister.” Marian grinned down at Sarah. “And for our first duty as pretend sisters, we must stop all this silly worrying about what might happen during our voyage and talk only of the adventures that await in our new land. Come, let’s go into the kitchen.”

  “But I want you to play with me.”

  “I have to help prepare the meal.”

  “Again?”

  “We should never grow weary of serving each other.” She squeezed Sarah’s hand. “It is how we imitate Christ.”

  As they stepped toward the kitchen, Benjamin burst around the corner. “Marian, you have to go upstairs.”

  Sarah let go of Marian’s hand and dashed away.

  Benjamin furrowed his freckled brow and continued, “Mother wants you.”

  “This better not be one of your tricks.”

  “It’s not!” Benjamin huffed. “Mother is crying again and told me to come and get you.”

  Chapter Two

  Jonah held one carpetbag in front of his body and one behind him as he descended the narrow steps from the train to the platform at Salisbury, Maryland. It was the end of the line for the Eastern Shore Railway, but not for him. He dodged the noisy crowd of men who stood on the platform smoking and spitting. Though early morning, the overcast sky allowed only a gloomy light that made the town seem hollow.

  Jonah couldn’t shake the feeling that he never should have left Philadelphia. His reputation was at stake and to let it get tarnished would ruin his Christian testimony. But he was close to Virginia now and no good could come from second guessing himself. The sooner he told his family goodbye, the sooner he could get back to Penn and fix the mess he had left behind. He stopped in front of the barred window of the railway office and tapped on the counter. “What time does the stagecoach leave?”

  The ticket officer pulled a cigar stub from his mouth. “Which direction?”

  “South into Virginia—down shore to Accomack.”

  “Mid-morning. Wait at the tavern.”

  A row of red brick buildings lined the street across from the train station. They were not there the last time he traveled through Salisbury. “Which one is the tavern?”

  A stream of cigar smoke flowed from the ticket officer’s nostrils. “The one that says Boyd’s on the sign.”

  Jonah nodded his thanks and walked across the dirt road to the tavern. As he bent to set the heaviest bag on the ground, the door flung open. Before he could excuse himself and move back, the unmistakable baritone of Mr. Charles Weathermon greeted him.

  “Jonah Ashton. You look every bit like your father did in his twenties. I’ll say it m
akes a man feel old. Come in, come in.” Mr. Weathermon held the tavern door open. “Your train was right on time and thank goodness, too! I couldn’t have stood a second night in this shoddy hostelry. No offense to you, old boy,” Mr. Weathermon’s voice boomed as he tossed a hand toward the man behind the bar.

  The man shrugged and hefted a tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen.

  Mr. Weathermon motioned to a round table and sat in front of a plate covered with gravy, burnt sausage, and a pile of unidentifiable breakfast mush. He picked up his fork and stabbed the sausage. “Shall I order a plate for you?”

  “No, thank you.” Jonah sat across from him and slid his bags beneath the table. He scanned the dimly lit faces of the tavern’s other patrons. “I did not expect to see anyone that I knew while I traveled. Did my father ask you to wait here for me?”

  Mr. Weathermon’s skin looked flushed. He wheezed out a breath and shifted his ample weight in the chair. “No, no. I settled my business in Dover and now I’m on my way to Accomack. Your father wired that you’d be arriving on the train today, so I waited to take the stage down with you. Been so long since I’ve seen you, my boy, and there’ll be much busyness once we get to your father’s house.”

  “Are they really going through with this migration?”

  “The other families are moving to his Chincoteague estate even as we speak. My ship’s captain is probably already at the harbor, but he won’t leave the ship until I tell him to. We will have to go out to him this afternoon. Frakes is his name—Spencer Frakes. Originally from Wilmington not Dover, so I doubt you knew him.”

  “No, I—”

  “No, I didn’t suspect you would. Well, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know Captain Frakes during the voyage. And you will be a valuable member of his crew. All the men will be—in turn, of course. He will need six men at the ready at all times to help with the rigging.”

  “Mr. Weathermon—”

  “Some days the ocean will be quiet and we will hardly touch the halyards and some days the wind and sea will batter and threaten until we know it is only by luck we are still alive. Providence—that’s the name of the ship—will carry us to our new home. A fitting name, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Mr. Weathermon, that seems to be a fitting name for a ship, but I’m not going on the voyage.”

  “Of course you are.” The older man’s sweaty forehead creased in the middle as he briefly paused his ramblings. He leaned in. “There might be war here soon. If the Southern States keep up this talk of secession, it will lead to battle. You’ll have no inheritance left in this country after a war. Your father’s estate will be flattened. And so many families have left to claim land out West, he couldn’t find a buyer now if he tried to sell. If there is war, one side or the other will quickly overtake the peninsula. They always do; it’s a rotten piece of land during war. Accomack is practically deserted already, save for the group preparing for the voyage. Your father expects you to go with your family to the new colony.”

  A tavern maid walked past and her tray slipped, sending a plate of poached eggs to the floor by an adjacent table. The room fell silent and everyone stared at the embarrassed girl. The man in the kitchen poked his head out and glowered at her. She dropped her chin and held the tray awkwardly as she gazed at the damaged plate and lost food that no doubt would come out of her meager pay.

  Jonah left his seat, took the tray, and set it on an empty table. As he knelt and helped her clean up the egg-covered pieces of broken stoneware, Mr. Weathermon huffed indignantly. Jonah ignored him and wiped the floor with the bar rag on the tray. When he handed it to the girl, she whispered thank you through a sheepish grin, and carried it all back to the kitchen.

  Jonah’s stomach growled as he returned to his seat, but that was the least of his concerns. He resumed his conversation with Mr. Weathermon. “What new colony? Reverend Colburn knew a missionary who went to South America years ago and returned to tell of myriad unsettled islands off the continent’s coast. That hardly means land is there for the taking by a group of American families wanting to form a colony.”

  “Yes, I can see how you’d be concerned.” Mr. Weathermon nodded and his plump jowls wobbled. “When your father told me their plan and asked about a ship for the migration, I said he was mad. But he explained their reasons aren’t political. It’s about the challenge of man versus nature—no different than our countrymen racing to the West. The more I thought about your father’s plan, I realized what a grand adventure it could be. I don’t agree with their strict traditionalist Christianity, but I’m ready for an adventure. So I offered the use of one of my trading schooners and a captain so long as they would take me with them.”

  “To an unpopulated island off the coast of South America?”

  “Reverend Colburn has the coordinates of the land that’s open to peaceful settlers, and Captain Frakes has agreed to take us there. The challenge is in turning uninhabited land into rich farmland and building a self-governing settlement. It can be done, and your father believes these are the men to do it.” Mr. Weathermon leaned back in his chair. “I have my ships and my money, but I miss the adventures that started my fortune for me. I have no family. So I settled my affairs and I’m ready to sail to the Southern Hemisphere. I’m not worried, and you shouldn’t worry either. Captain Frakes and I will train you boys for the ropes and if the other fellows are as good-natured as your father, we will have ourselves a fine voyage.”

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot leave my life behind.” The tavern door opened and as a man stepped inside, cold air whirled past Jonah. It brought a refreshing chill to the stuffy room and briefly thinned the scent of sausage and tobacco smoke. He looked back at Mr. Weathermon. “I’ve worked hard to earn my medical degree, and I intend to complete the program at Penn.”

  “Then why have you come this far?”

  Jonah rubbed his chin and felt a day’s worth of stubble. It bothered him. “I’m only going to Accomack County to say goodbye to my family. I don’t think they should leave the country, but if they insist, I will honor them with a proper farewell. Then I must return to Philadelphia.”

  “Your father is depending on you—the whole group is. They will need a good doctor.”

  “They have my father. He is a good doctor—a medical doctor. I am still a student.”

  Mr. Weathermon tapped the table with one chubby finger. “Yes, but they will need a young doctor to take care of them as they establish the settlement, to ensure the group survives, you see, long into the future.”

  “But I’m not a doctor yet. I haven’t finished the medical program. I’m no different than the tens of thousands of men in America who read a few books, call themselves Doctor, and set up shop. I must finish the medical program, even if that means disappointing my family.” Jonah thought of the false allegation that could be awaiting him when he returned to Philadelphia. His hunger pangs lessened, but another discomfort took their place. He shifted in his seat. “And it’s imperative that I return soon. I will stay the night at my family’s estate and maybe a second night at the most, but then I must return to medical school. My father is unaware of my plan, so I’d appreciate your confidence in this matter.”

  Mr. Weathermon shoveled a forkful of breakfast in his mouth and wiped his chin with his napkin. “Suit yourself, my boy. Suit yourself. But don’t just show up and dash your father’s spirit with this announcement as soon as you arrive today. He deserves better than that. Don’t hold back your disappointing news for too long either; that smacks of deception.”

  The older man’s admonition might have been intended as friendly advice, but it rankled. Jonah straightened his spine. “I would never try to deceive my father, sir.”

  “Very good.” Mr. Weathermon chased his heavy breakfast with the last of his coffee. “And you are right that a doctor should earn his title. The world has plenty of frauds. We need more medical doctors like your father and grandfather. But break the news to your family delicately, my boy. N
o need to part with enmity between you.”

  * * *

  Marian poured her latest blend of tea into a porcelain cup and steadied it over a matching flower-print saucer as she carried it through the house to the Ashtons’ veranda. Steam rose from the imported souchong. She breathed in the aroma of the sage and peppermint infused tea, and then offered the cup to her dearest friend. “Taste this.”

  “I will not.” Olivia Owens barely gave the potent tea a glance. “Taste it yourself.”

  “Please,” Marian tried again. “I’ve sampled so many concoctions my palate is ruined for the day.”

  “Then perhaps it’s time to put away your teas. Come help me with this mess.” Olivia blew a strand of silky black hair out of her young face and pointed at the clutter. “Mrs. Ashton asked me to move some of these boxes before the Vestal family arrives, but I don’t know where to put them.”

  Marian surveyed the veranda of the Ashtons’ already crowded home and grew excited at the thought of packing the group’s possessions onto a ship and sailing to a new land. She set the teacup on the iron strap of a trunk and picked up two boxes. “These can go on top of that stack, and if we push the spinning wheel into the corner, the Vestals can put their trunks near the window. The Roberts family might have to take their boxes to the barn.”

  Olivia shook her head and more strands of hair escaped the white ribbon tied around her bun, but she didn’t attempt to fix it. “Mrs. Ashton said there is space for all of the luggage in the house.”

  “Maybe we can use Jonah’s old bedroom for storage.”

  “That’s up to Mrs. Ashton. She received a telegraph from Jonah. He’s coming home.” Olivia grunted as she pushed the spinning wheel to the edge of the room. She wiped her forehead with her dress sleeve and stepped out of the corner. “Doctor Ashton is expecting him by coach this afternoon.”

  “I hadn’t heard.” Marian moved another box onto a stack of luggage and held back the smile that threatened to give away her pleasure. The voyage would be more fun with more young people, and being in the Ashton’s home and hearing about Jonah had intrigued her. Yet in the midst of her enthusiasm, she also felt sorry for him. “It hardly seems fair to force him to go with us when he’s worked so hard to become a doctor.” She picked up a wooden crate and a splinter slipped under her fingernail. She winced at the stinging pain and tried to pick the splinter out, but it was in too deep.