Aboard Providence Read online

  “Years?” Jonah asked with a smirk.

  “Well, it seems like it. Those few weeks laid up with a broken leg felt like a decade to me.” Doctor Ashton chuckled then he readjusted his crutch. “I wish I could have helped the men load the cargo these past few days.”

  “They understood why you couldn’t.”

  Doctor Ashton gave a nod. “I suppose all the hatches are closed up tight now, aren’t they?”

  “All but the hatch to the stairs. It will remain open, of course.”

  “Did you stow the medical supplies in the sterncastle?”

  “I did. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in the portside berth in the captain’s cabin? Captain Frakes said he doesn’t mind.”

  “No, no. I can make it down below at night. Once I get my sea legs I won’t even need this crutch to get around.” Doctor Ashton looked at the ship and then smiled at Anna. “Oh, this is grand! Come, my family. God has given us this opportunity and He has given us the desire and ability to go settle new land. Between the eight families we have everything we need to form the ideal colony. We have teachers and farmers and herdsmen, a blacksmith, carpenters, a printer, musicians, and a mason. This is our time. Let’s go and have our adventure!”

  His family’s excitement made Jonah grin, but his dread of leaving the country with an incomplete education overshadowed any hope of sharing their joy. He glanced back at the estate; the tip of the barn’s roof was barely visible above the dormant trees. As they began to walk toward the gangway together, he put one hand on little Sarah’s shoulder and the other in his pocket where he felt the folded letter his father had sent to him calling him home from Penn.

  George ran up the gangway and held the gate open. Anna walked slowly beside Doctor Ashton with her hand on his back as if to steady him even though he had regained much of his strength and balance. Sarah smiled up at Jonah, her cheeks rosy from the cold December air.

  Jonah felt the corners of the folded letter in his pocket and looked back once more before following his family aboard Providence. His feet felt as though his shoes were made of lead, making each step up the gangway more difficult than the one before. When he reached the ship’s deck, he straightened his back. Two weeks to South America, two weeks home, and then he could set his life back in order and earn his degree.

  As Jonah’s parents walked toward the binnacle near the ship’s wheel, Doctor Ashton pointed at the different parts of the compass and the lamp beneath, explaining its operation to Anna. Then he leaned his crutch against the rail and sat on the edge of a wooden bench. He sweetly patted the seat for her to sit beside him. She sat and he draped his arm over her shoulder then pulled her close to his side. They looked out at the ocean together, seeming content. Jonah longed for that kind of contentment.

  George dashed across the ship’s deck, eagerly following Captain Frakes. Sarah and Isaac and James disappeared below deck with some of the other children. His family seemed to be preparing for a luxury cruise. The sway of the ship, even while still moored, made him think they were leaving all hope of comfort behind.

  Jonah scanned the deck for Marian, wanting to know she had made it safely aboard. He worried about her having to constantly attend her pregnant mother. It did not seem fair. Though he had teased her about her continually hopeful attitude, he was drawn to her tender spirit. More than drawn—he wanted to guard her. She was like a burning match in a rainstorm and he wished he had some right to protect her.

  He perambulated the deck, walking past the stove, the masts, the benches, but did not find her. He returned to the sterncastle agitated. As he stood outside the door of the captain’s cabin, he watched the men on deck. They had learned the ropes well, Gabriel especially. Olivia was watching Gabriel as she carried a potted tree sapling across the deck. When she walked past Jonah, he stopped her. “Did Marian come aboard yet?”

  “Yes, she’s down below. Why?”

  “I was just concerned for Mrs. Foster.”

  Olivia blew a strand of black hair off her face. “Then why didn’t you ask about her instead of Marian?”

  Disliking Olivia’s captious question, Jonah pulled his watch from his pocket, shined its face with his cuff, and walked on.

  Mr. Foster came up the gangway with two nervous goats on ropes behind him and his encased violin under his arm. He passed Jonah and coaxed the goats down to the hold. Maybe Marian was down there with her horse or maybe she was with her mother in the bunk deck. He hoped she was being careful whatever she was doing. It was dark below deck and cramped and the ship moved continually. An image of her injured flashed through his mind and he almost went to check on her, but stopped himself. The imagination could be a vile force if believed and produce unwelcomed emotions if allowed. Marian was fine wherever she was and it wasn’t his place to worry about her.

  Captain Frakes called orders to the men then passed the ship’s wheel and climbed the steps to the stern deck. Jonah stepped away from the cabin door and looked up to watch. The captain propped both fists on his hips and gave the ship’s deck a quick survey before putting his eye to the telescope. Jonah shielded his face from the sun as he watched the jaunty captain with both awe and amusement.

  “Jonah,” Peggy Cotter called out, as she ambled toward the sterncastle. She limped, favoring one foot, then switched to the other as she drew near. “Oh, Jonah, it seems I’ve twisted my ankle. Be a dear and take a look at it for me, would you?”

  “Of course,” he replied, eyeing her exaggerated limp.

  He began to kneel and reached out for her foot, but she huffed. “Not out here. In the privacy of your office, of course.”

  He offered her his arm and walked her into the captain’s cabin. Her weight shifted as she continued her unrehearsed limp. It confirmed his suspicion. He led her to the spare berth. After she sat, she stuck her foot up to him, boot and all.

  He almost laughed. “You can take your shoe off yourself.”

  Peggy protruded her bottom lip in a bratty pout, proving she had matured little since their schooldays. Jonah maintained a neutral expression and waited for her to cooperate. With a huff she unlaced the ribbon, removed her polished boot, and raised her foot.

  Jonah knelt and examined her ankle. He found no swelling or redness, and as he turned her foot testing its range of motion, Peggy hummed as if experiencing pleasure rather than pain.

  He lowered her foot to the floor. “Your ankle is fine, Miss Cotter. I suggest you walk carefully until you get used to the ship’s movement.”

  “Jonah, let’s not be so formal. Do call me Peggy.” She drew her head back and smiled coyly. It had no more affect on him now than when he was sixteen.

  Captain Frakes was moving about on the deck above the cabin, and Mr. Weathermon’s full voice boomed outside the cabin door. Jonah heard a third voice and walked to the door. He glanced back at Peggy as he turned the knob. What a pity such a pretty face was wasted on such a demanding woman. It would take a man who enjoyed being toyed with to appreciate her company, and he was not that man.

  The heavy door’s hinge squeaked as he opened it. Peggy’s father, Teddy Cotter, stood in front of the wheel between Mr. Weathermon and Captain Frakes. “Excuse me, Mr. Cotter. Would you step inside here for a moment, please?”

  Teddy nodded at Jonah and walked into the captain’s cabin. His eyes grew wide when he saw his eldest daughter seated on the patient berth, lacing up her boot. “Peggy, what’s happened?”

  “Miss Cotter came to me saying she’d twisted her ankle, but it appears to have quickly healed,” Jonah answered for her. “I recommend you walk her to her berth down below and have her remain there for the afternoon to rest, just to be safe.”

  “Yes, thank you, Jonah,” Mr. Cotter replied, escorting Peggy out of the captain’s cabin.

  Chapter Seven

  Marian took awkward steps, trying not to spill her mother’s water cup as she returned to the family bunks below deck. With her empty hand, she held the edge of each berth for balance as she
stepped through the narrow passageway. The midmorning light coming from the scant portholes cast a faint glow into the usually dark sleeping quarters. No candles or lanterns were allowed below deck, so in only three days at sea Marian had memorized how many steps it was from the stairs amidships to her family’s berths.

  “I didn’t spill a drop this time,” Marian crawled onto Catherine’s berth and held the cup out to her. “Captain Frakes was right: the temperature warmed twenty degrees after we passed Wallops Island and sailed into the Atlantic. The breeze is light today. Why don’t we go up top? I could make us some tea and we could sit in the sun.”

  The eerie creak of the masts kept time with the slow but constant sway of the ship. Marian inched off the berth and stood fully erect. The crossbeams were barely above her head. Sheets had been hung between the bunks to give each family a sense of privacy, but she felt caged. “It’s so stuffy down here. Wouldn’t you like to go above deck for even an hour?”

  Catherine took a sip of water and handed Marian the tin. “I’m afraid I will fall.”

  “I will hold onto you. I’ve learned to balance.”

  “We will be in the way of the men up there.”

  “Captain Frakes said the sails are set and the wind is steady today. Most of the men are sitting around, talking about the new settlement. Mrs. Owens and Olivia have the children sitting in the light of the stairwell, doing lessons.”

  “I must admit I’m tired of lying around down here in this gloomy place,” Catherine moved her legs toward the berth’s edge. “I feel like an invalid and I’m not. I am simply with child. And the air is so musty in here, even with the portholes open.”

  As Catherine stood, Marian grew giddy at the prospect of going topside for a while. She reached for her mother’s hand. “Hold onto the berth with one hand and me with the other.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” Catherine sucked in a breath and froze. “Oh my, does the swaying never stop? How am I to walk like this?”

  Marian balanced herself with knees slightly bent and braced Catherine, unwilling to let her give up so quickly. “We will go as slowly as you need. Take one step at a time. Now move your hand down the bunk and take another step.” As they passed the vertical column of the mast, the noisy groan of the ship obscured Catherine’s complaints.

  “That’s it. And another step,” Marian encouraged her mother.

  At last they reached the stairs. Several children glanced up from their slates. Olivia gave Marian a knowing smile and waved a hand at the students. “Come out of the way, children. Give way to Mrs. Foster.”

  Sunlight flooded down from the open hatch and cast shadows in the cracks of the worn planks. Marian held the rail with one hand and Catherine’s waist with the other, supporting her.

  When they reached the top deck of the ship, the breeze caught a few loose wisps of Catherine’s hair and she beamed. “You were right. Oh, thank you, Marian! This is what I needed. The fresh air will remove the musty scent from my skin, though not from my memory.”

  In incremental steps, Marian led Catherine to a bench near the quarterdeck. As she sat beside her mother, she glanced back at the captain’s cabin and wondered about the handsome ship’s physician. Jonah was probably in there studying medical books or brooding over being away from college. In either case, she wished she could slip into the sterncastle to see him; if he were studying, she could ask him what he was reading and hope to absorb some of his knowledge; if he were brooding, she could encourage him and hope for that faint grin that rarely appeared but when it did, it made her wish to draw it out again.

  She would fling herself into the depth of his despair and pull him out if he let her. It would be unwise to allow her concern for him to keep growing. Beyond unwise considering their life plans would manifest on two different hemispheres, but she was stuck on a ship at sea, confined most of the time below deck to help her pregnant mother. If the only glimmer of enjoyment came from thinking about Jonah Ashton, then she would allow herself that fantasy.

  Catherine leaned close. “Are you looking for Jonah?”

  Marian snapped her focus away from the closed door. “No.”

  “You cannot lie to your mother.”

  “I’m sorry.” Marian looked at her hands then at her smiling mother. “Yes, I was hoping to see him. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

  “Falling in love is rarely silly.”

  Maybe not silly, but it was pointless when the man was planning to leave the settlement as soon as they made landfall and never return. She had sworn to keep Jonah’s secret and intended to, no matter how perceptive her mother was. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she glanced at the cabin door again. “How did you know?”

  “A mother always knows.” Catherine rested a hand on the top of her growing belly. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

  Marian thought of how Jonah gazed at her when they were alone and how he always touched her, politely but sweetly, when they spoke. She couldn’t honestly say how he felt about her, even if she wanted to answer her mother, which she didn’t. She looked out at the ocean; its blackish-blue surface stretched to the horizon in every direction. “I don’t know.”

  “Jonah has always been very reserved, hasn’t he? I remember when the Ashtons first moved to Accomack County. Jonah was about ten or so. He was a well-mannered boy, but I couldn’t get him to talk much. He’s grown to be an admirable man, but still very quiet. I don’t know what Joseph and Anna would have done if he hadn’t been here to help them. We wouldn’t be leaving now, that’s for certain… maybe not at all. Charles Weathermon wouldn’t have allowed his ship to leave without Joseph, and we all would have needed to make other plans if we wanted to settle new land.”

  Deep creases formed around Catherine’s eyes as she squinted from the sunlight. “Jonah has been a good son to them. He’s a good man.”

  Marian agreed, but kept it to herself.

  One of the herding dogs neared the bench, legs broadened awkwardly, bracing against the deck’s movement. It leaned against Marian’s knee, wanting to be petted.

  “At least Duke has got his sea legs.” Catherine laughed.

  Marian laughed too—not at the dog but from the relief brought by her mother’s momentary happiness.

  Catherine held a hand out to the dog. “Do you suppose Gypsy and the other animals are miserable down in the hold?”

  “Father said Gypsy is nervous, but still eating. He and Mr. Cotter tend to the animals constantly. The chickens are still laying and the milk cows are still producing, but the poor creatures must be miserable. I’ll go down and check on Gypsy later, if that is all right with you.”

  Catherine nodded.

  The music of the wind sang through the sails as the ship moved along on the smooth sea. Marian closed her eyes and put her face to the sun. She hummed as she absorbed its warmth.

  Chapter Eight

  “Every man on deck!” Mr. Weathermon yelled, his voice carrying into the captain’s cabin where Jonah sat on the patient berth, studying. He clapped his textbook shut and pushed the heavy door open. The cabin filled with the fierce westerly wind as Jonah rushed outside to help.

  Reverend Colburn and the seven other men he referred to as the elders, the three boys over the age of fourteen, and Gabriel and Henry, were all clamoring about the ship’s deck, half attempting to follow Captain Frakes’ command to shorten the sails and half attempting to follow Mr. Weathermon’s conflicting command to prepare to jibe.

  Jonah’s father, still weakened by his healing leg, stood at the ship’s wheel as if he were helping. Though his hands gripped the wheel, it was the closed lock that was actually holding the wheel in place. Jonah yelled to his father, “Go into the sterncastle or down below where it’s safer.”

  Doctor Ashton shook his head. “I’m needed here.”

  “You shouldn’t be out here in these conditions. You might lose your balance. Your bones haven’t healed yet.”

  “You heard Mr. Weathermon. They need every man o
n deck. Get to the ropes!”

  Parents made the worst patients. As did anyone whose pride took longer to heal than an injury. He let his father remain at the ship’s wheel despite the pitching deck, but it worried him. As he passed the binnacle, he braced himself against the wind and took a mental tally of the sixteen men on deck, praying there would still be sixteen left after the windstorm subsided.

  Captain Frakes’ order prevailed among the crew, so Jonah stepped behind Gabriel and gripped the end of the halyard. There was no time for a song and no one could have heard it over the groan of the wind anyway. The rope was rough and pricked Jonah’s skin. He should have grabbed his gloves on his way out of the cabin. Ignoring the sting, he put his mind to the task of shortening the mainsail. The constantly changing incline of the deck demanded strength from his legs in opposing rhythm to his work at the ropes. The muscles in his back began to burn in response to the exacting effort.

  A black cloud doused the last light of day. The wind whipped the ocean’s waves into jagged peaks, obscuring the horizon. Ocean mist sprayed across the deck, moistening his clothes with stiff salt water.

  Gabriel glanced back at Jonah, and shook his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting this wind.”

  “Keep pulling,” Jonah replied.

  A crack resounded from deep within one of the spars, and the men ceased pulling. Jonah dropped the halyard and took a wobbly step back. The captain yelled orders to the men who were portside, and they released the ropes.

  Mr. Weathermon marched up to Captain Frakes. They conferred, nose to nose. Finally, Mr. Weathermon told the men to stay on deck and rest a moment. He and the captain stomped toward the sterncastle together. Faint light from a lantern inside the captain’s cabin spilled onto the deck before Mr. Weathermon pulled the door closed, sealing himself and the captain in the shelter of the sterncastle.

  Jonah wanted to go in with them to hear the discussion. He wanted to know what the disagreement was, why the ship wasn’t where they expected it to be by now, and if they would return to America instead of pressing on. He certainly thought they should and would gladly interject that opinion if given the chance.