Waiting on Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “The wind is moving us right along. Are you sure you’re strong enough to handle things?” She gave him a look with a raised brow that caused Nick’s eyes to widen. “All right, then. I see that you are.”

  She laughed. “I’ve been doing this a long time. If there’s trouble, I know my father is just ten feet away.”

  “I’ll be there too.”

  “Yes, but I can count on my father.” She hadn’t really thought through her words before replying and hoped Nick wouldn’t take insult.

  “I hope you know you can count on me too.” His voice was soft and his expression almost tender.

  She met his gaze even as the men started filing past to head into the galley. “I think I do know that.” She smiled and took hold of the wheel.

  “Keep her headed due west,” Nick said, grinning.

  Elise glanced at the binnacle, which held the ship’s compass. “Aye, aye.”

  He chuckled and made his way into the galley. Elise couldn’t help but like him. He was charming and gentle, not at all condemning of her participation on the ship.

  “Well, we meet again, pretty lady,” Duran said, pausing at the door of the deckhouse. “How about you have a drink with me tonight after my watch is through? We can get to know each other better.”

  She looked the big, burly man over. “There’s no drinking allowed on the Mary Elise, Mr. Duran.”

  “Ah, I know the rules, but rules were made to be broken.” His lips twitched behind his reddish-brown beard. “And I can think of quite a few I’d like to break with you.”

  The deckhouse door opened, and Elise’s father appeared. His gaze fell on Duran. “You’re holding things up, Duran. Next time you won’t eat.”

  Duran’s eyes narrowed. Elise didn’t like the way he looked at her father. She took a step back, putting the wheel between herself and the men. If Duran decided to take a swing, she didn’t want to encumber her father in any way.

  “Sorry, Cap’n.” There was no sincerity in Duran’s voice. He brushed past her father and down the deckhouse steps.

  Elise’s father looked her way. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m just fine, Papa. Go have your lunch and meeting.”

  “Well then, hold the course.” He hesitated only a moment, then followed Duran.

  Elise shuddered. She liked Duran a little less every time she encountered him. Mama would say just to take it in stride—that some men had known a worse existence than others. She’d admitted that their behavior could be quite foul, but that answering hatred with kindness was important in order to change hearts.

  “I suppose I’m not doing a very good job at this, Lord. Help me be more like my mother. She always seemed to understand the right thing to say and do. I feel like a poor substitute.”

  She looked off to the side of the ship. It was nearly impossible to see what was coming with the deckhouse blocking her view. She would steer the open waters based mostly on the compass, but at times she moved to the side to get a look across the expanse, just in case another ship should cross her path. In this case it wasn’t likely, but Elise never took her job for granted. The very lives of the men on board were in her hands. She wasn’t about to risk them, nor let her father down.

  Poor Papa. He was so weary and sad these days that she didn’t want to do anything to add to his misery.

  “Help me, Lord.” She heaved a deep sigh.

  “Losin’ Joe was a hard blow,” the captain began as they ate their lunch. “However, I’ve no doubt Nick will do us a fine job.”

  “If he doesn’t sink the Mary Elise like he did the Polaris,” Duran muttered.

  “I believe I have the floor for now, Mr. Duran. If you wish to speak to the men later, that can be arranged.”

  Duran glared at Nick. “Everyone already knows the truth.”

  Nick had no doubt they did. If not from the stories passed around in port, then for certain Duran had made it known.

  “And no one cares,” the captain said, making his position clear. “I’ve damaged and even lost a ship myself, just as many other captains have. You can’t always predict what will happen, and sometimes our choices aren’t the best. From our mistakes . . . we learn. If any man here at the table can say he’s made none, I’ll put him off at the next stop because he’ll be a liar. Mistakes I can tolerate when a man learns and makes amends. Liars get no tolerance from me whatsoever. Now, is there anything more you wish to address, Mr. Duran?”

  Duran shook his head and focused on his food. Nick felt strangely unburdened by the encounter. The captain continued to his next topic of order, and before long and without the interjections of Duran, the meeting concluded and so did lunch.

  Nick made his way out to see that the men got back to work. The captain wanted the inside bow of the ship scraped and painted. There was plenty of work to keep the men busy, and the sailing was fair.

  Tom was busy cleaning the deck when Nick passed by. “How goes it, Tom?”

  The boy paused in his work. “It goes well enough. Can I ask you something, Mr. Clark?”

  Nick smiled. “Of course.”

  “Well, I heard Mr. Duran talkin’ about the Polaris. He said you deliberately ran her on the rocks. I just wondered what really happened.”

  “I suppose I’m guilty as charged. The ship was breaking up, and I tried to get us to safety so as to save the lives of my men.”

  Tom nodded. “I figured it must have been that way.” He turned away and resumed scrubbing the deck.

  Nick started to go, then called back to the boy, “You’re doing a mighty fine job, Tom.”

  The captain had a good crew in the men who worked for him. Nick had been impressed with their loyalty and the gentle way they acted around Elise. For all intents and purposes, the men treated her like a little sister. They were protective, seeing to it that neither Nick nor Duran got out of line where she was concerned. As the newest men on board, Nick supposed it would be that way for some time. At least until Nick could earn their trust. Only time and working together would see that come about. Trust wasn’t easily given by seamen.

  When Nick signed on to his first ocean schooner ten years ago, the second mate had been put in charge of him. The man had been in his late forties and had nearly as many years’ experience working on board ships. He had shown Nick the way of things, teaching with great patience and swift reprimand for repeated mistakes. He quickly became like a father to Nick, which had eased the loss of his family and the anger he held toward his own father.

  That ship ran regular trips from Boston to Barbados with other stops along the way. But when it was announced that they were soon striking out for California, Nick resigned his position, not wishing to put that much distance between him and his family. Even if his father had disowned him, he didn’t want to be that far from home. The second mate suggested he get a job on a Great Lakes ship, and Nick had put it to prayer and done just that. It had been a wise decision.

  He went to check in with Captain Wright and found him thoughtful at the helm. The older man didn’t seem to notice Nick for some time, and then he began to speak as if they’d been talking all along.

  “Some days pass so slow, and others speed by.”

  “That’s true enough,” Nick replied. “I just thought I’d let you know that it’s clear ahead as far as the eye can see.”

  “Those wisps of clouds are suggesting a weather change. Won’t be long before autumn is here. In six weeks or so, it’ll be September.”

  Nick glanced at the skies. “Aye. And a few months after that, the winter freeze.”

  Captain Wright’s voice became distant. “When I was a boy, I hated autumn. I knew that meant school, and soon the water would freeze over. My father was a fisherman, so the water has always been my life.” He pulled himself out of his daydreaming. “What about you? Where’d you grow up?”

  “Boston. My father was in the textile mill industry.” Nick shook his head. “I could never get interested in it. I suppose one of the big
gest reasons was that it was confining. I wanted to be outdoors and free. If you’ve never been inside a textile mill, you should know it is as far from the outdoors and freedom as anything can be.”

  “I’ve never been in a mill,” Wright admitted.

  “Hot, humid, and dangerous. They have to keep the place humid for the sake of the threads, so they nail the windows shut so the workers can’t raise them for air. It’s unbearably hot. I worked there one summer when I was sixteen. My father was certain I would develop a love for the industry, but it wasn’t to be.”

  After a moment of silence, the captain nodded. “I couldn’t live like that either. I suppose that didn’t sit well with your father.”

  “No. He disowned me. He wasn’t even willing to send me to college for an education. Just told me to leave—that if I wasn’t going to follow with family tradition, then I was no longer part of the family.”

  “That seems harsh.”

  Nick remembered the sound of his father’s voice and the look on his face as if it were yesterday. “It was. I think he honestly thought I would change my mind. I might have, too, if he’d been less cruel in his attitude.”

  “So you ran away and joined a ship?”

  “It wasn’t exactly like that. He put me from the house with nothing but the clothes on my back and the money in my pockets. I was eighteen and sure I knew everything.” Nick smiled and shook his head. “I learned very quickly just how ignorant I was.”

  “I can imagine. My bad attitude brought me to that place. God interceded, however, just as I’m sure He did with you. He has a way of doing that.” The captain smiled. “Thank God He does.”

  Elise and her father sat at the galley table with their Bibles in hand. Each evening, if possible, they took time after supper to share a moment of Bible reading and prayer. They had done this as a family when Mother and Caroline were still with them, and Elise insisted they continue.

  “Where are we reading from tonight?” Elise opened her Bible and looked at her father.

  “Philippians chapter two.” He opened his Bible to the marker he’d put in. “I was studying this recently and thought it very good.”

  “Shall I read, or will you?”

  “Go ahead. Start with verse fourteen.”

  Elise followed the words with her index finger. “‘Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world,’” she read, then stopped. “How hard that is. I complain all the time.”

  “When? I never hear you,” her father said with a hint of amusement. “You rarely ever complain or grumble.”

  “Perhaps I do it in the silence of my mind, but it’s there. These verses suggest that as a child of God I should do all things without such an attitude, otherwise I’m no different from the rest of the world and cannot be a beacon of light for God.”

  “It’s hard not to grumble and complain, especially when things go wrong.” Her father shook his head. “Your mother always had a way of keeping me in good spirits. When I’d start in on how bad we had it, she’d make me stop and think about the good things first.”

  Elise smiled. “Yes. She did that with me as well. ‘Count your blessings before listing what’s wrong,’ she used to say. I was always frustrated by that when I was younger because it felt like she didn’t care, but now that I’m older, I understand. I would give this long list of blessings, and then she’d tell me to go ahead and tell her what was wrong. I might have been frustrated with Caroline for something, but having listed my sister as a blessing, it was hard to bring up my complaint against her.”

  “Your mother had a way of making sense and simplicity out of difficult matters. Not that these verses are difficult. They’re pretty straightforward. The world spends all its time in conflict and complaint. Nothing is ever large enough or small enough or busy enough or restful enough. People get sick and complain, yet do the same when they’re healthy. They fight wars and complain, then seem out of sorts during times of peace and loudly issue their opinions.”

  “I wonder what my life would be like if I truly did all things without murmurings and disputing?” Elise considered the problems of the day and could name a half dozen times she’d complained. “I pledge to try harder. I am confessing my sin and ask you to help hold me accountable, Papa.”

  He smiled. “I accept the job, for I believe it will be an easy one.”

  “I think you’ll be surprised.”

  Chapter 8

  It was said that a three-masted schooner needed a crew of only five. The captain, the cook, and one man for each mast. Nick was glad Captain Wright saw it differently. The Mary Elise had a crew of eight regularly and sometimes as many as ten. Bill Wright was unlike any man he’d ever met. Nick supposed it might have been his Christian faith, but he’d known other men of faith who were captains. It might have been his deep love of family that made him extend that same attitude to his crew. Whatever it was, Nick felt that the older man genuinely cared about each and every man in a way that ran deeper than mere employer to employee. He was even generous in patience with Booker Duran, who was quickly losing the respect of every other man on board.

  “Stop playing that cursed thing,” Duran demanded across the deck.

  Nick frowned. He knew Duran hated young Tom’s harmonica playing. The boy was pretty good, however, and the rest of the men enjoyed it and even asked for it in their personal time.

  “Pay him no mind, Tom. Play.” This came from the second mate, who had stood up to Duran on more than one occasion.

  There was momentary silence, and then Tom started up again, this time playing a jaunty jig. Nick appreciated the boy’s resilience and willingness to continue. Duran could make a person feel nervous, even threatened, just by his large size.

  Nick glanced at his pocket watch. The second mate would soon take the helm, and Nick would inspect the work being done at the bow. Without warning, however, Tom’s music stopped, and a commotion began. The men were shouting, and there was the sound of a scuffle. Nick hurried to where Duran and Russ Davis, a wiry, all-muscle man in his forties, were rolling around on the deck. The other men were doing what they could to clear the area of paint and brushes.

  Motioning to Sam, Nick wondered if young Tom’s harmonica playing was at the bottom of this.

  “Aye, Mr. Clark,” Sam said, coming to his side.

  “Go take the wheel.” Sam nodded and hurried away. Nick turned back to the rest of the men. “Stop this now!” He’d never had reason to bellow in such a way before.

  “What’s going on here?” roared Captain Wright. It rather surprised the men, and everyone came to attention except for the two on the deck who were still fighting. Nick wasn’t surprised the altercation had drawn the attention of the captain. The captain nudged him. “Take hold of Russ. I’ll get Duran.”

  It was a risk to jump into the fracas, but Nick did as instructed and pulled Russ backward. The seaman fought against him.

  “Let me go. You didn’t see what he did.” Russ tried to squirm away from Nick, but Nick pulled him farther away from Duran.

  Duran raised his fist to Captain Wright, then seemed to realize who held him and lowered his arm. He went still as the captain fixed him with a stern stare.

  “Stop this now,” the captain ordered. “And somebody tell me why we have fighting on my deck.”

  Russ calmed as he became aware of what was going on. Nick let go his hold, and Russ stepped forward. “I’ll tell you, Cap’n.”

  “Very well, go ahead.” Wright still had a grip on Duran’s collar.

  “Duran threw Tom’s harmonica over the side.”

  Wright let go of Duran. His stoic gaze turned into a frown as his eyes narrowed. “Is this true, Duran?”

  “What if it is? I hate that sound. It was givin’ me a headache. I asked him to stop.”

  “You demanded it, don’t you mean?” said Ollie Johnson
.

  “No matter. He wouldn’t stop, and you all just encouraged him to continue.”

  Nick glanced at Tom, who stood beside Ollie. The scrawny kid’s face was red in anger and maybe embarrassment at being the center of attention.

  The captain shook his head. “Duran, I don’t tolerate such behavior on my ship. I’m putting you off at the next town.”

  Duran seemed to consider this a moment, then shook his head. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper, Captain. I’m askin’ for another chance. I have a powerful headache, and it made me lose my reason for a moment.”

  This turn of events surprised Nick. Duran didn’t seem the type to beg anyone for a second chance.

  Captain Wright looked to Tom. “What do you say, Tom? Do you think Duran should get a second chance?”

  Tom glanced from left to right. “I guess so.”

  “He’s caused more than his share of trouble,” Ollie added.

  The captain shook his head. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Johnson. This is Tom’s call.”

  Duran looked at the boy. “I’ll give you money to buy another harmonica.”

  “Well, Tom?” the captain asked.

  “Let him stay. I guess I’d want the same consideration if I made a mistake.”

  “Weren’t a mistake,” Russ muttered under his breath.

  “Good,” the captain declared. “It’s settled, then. There will be no more fighting. We have a deadline to get this coal to Duluth, but I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done. Even if it means stopping. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, Captain!” the men said in unison, with the exception of Duran. He seemed in agreement, but he watched everyone around him with the eyes of a hungry tiger. Nick didn’t trust him at all. He always seemed to be up to something.

  “Duran, I want you to apologize to Tom,” the captain added.

  Nick held his breath. Duran wasn’t the type to apologize to anyone. All of the men turned to Duran, awaiting what he would do. To everyone’s surprise, Duran didn’t try to get out of it.

  “Sorry there, Tom. Like I said, I had a headache, and sometimes that makes me lose control.”