The church bell chimed three o’clock, and Elise knew it was best she went home and checked on her roast. “I need to get home.”
Nick didn’t protest. “Thank you for a lovely day.”
She hated the thought of ending their time together. “Would you like to come for dinner tonight? I happen to know you have the evening free, and Papa would enjoy your company . . . as would I.”
His grin broadened into a full smile. “I would be happy to join you and your father for dinner. What time should I come?”
“Six would be fine.”
They began walking toward the ferry landing. Elise couldn’t help but smile. It had been a perfectly wonderful day, and for the first time in her life, she was experiencing feelings that could only be one thing.
It must be love.
Bill Wright sat at the table with the ship’s log, invoices, and financial journal. He’d been doing his best to focus on what needed to be paid and what needed to be collected. Sam had done a good job posting entries, but things seemed confusing in light of the fact that his wife had always taken care of this job.
How could she be gone?
He leaned his elbows on the table and planted his hands in his thick graying hair. “Mary, I’d give anything if you were here again, safe and sound.”
A warmth spread over him at the mere speaking of her name. She’d been his pride and joy—the reason he awoke happy each day. How could he not be happy with her at his side? Mary made life better. Her cheery countenance and joy in the Lord never faltered. Oh, she had moments when something troubled her, but her first move was always to take it to the Lord in prayer. He wished he were more like that. His faith in God had grown strong, to be sure, as had his prayer life, but with Mary it seemed to come naturally, while his still took some effort.
A chill soon robbed him of the warmth Mary’s memory had brought. It seemed he was always chilled, even when the days were warm, which this one had been. Bill moved to the fireplace and loaded it with wood. He maneuvered the logs and embers with the poker, and soon the fire came to life, but his heart did not. How could it, without the love of his life there to share the hours?
He went back to the table, then remembered he’d promised Elise he would keep the oven fires going. Opening the stove, Bill could see he’d failed. There was a nice bed of embers but little more. He quickly went to work repairing that neglect. Satisfied he’d made amends, he went again to the table. This time he sat down and stared at the books and papers.
Sam had offered to take over this task for him. He knew his second mate was trustworthy. He’d been with Bill for over five years, and he had proven himself more than once.
So why not just give it over to Sam? Or even Elise?
Bill drew a deep breath. “Because it was hers to do. The last bit.”
Elise had taken over the cooking, laundry, and mending. She even came into his cabin and cleaned up after him. Those were all Mary’s duties, and she’d done them with skill and love. Elise offered the same, but it was different. She knew she was appreciated, but she felt her mother’s loss just as well.
The door opened, and Elise stepped inside. “Hello, Papa. I’m back from my walk about town with Nick.” She pulled off her bonnet. “I see you’ve made it quite warm in here. Were you chilled?”
“Just a bit, but don’t go worrying that I’ve caught some horrible sickness. I’m just getting old.”
She gave a good-natured laugh. “You shall never be old, Papa.” She made her way to the oven.
“I just put the fire in order,” he said, hoping he hadn’t ruined anything. “I’m sorry to say it got away from me. The stove too, but I just added wood to both.”
She turned before reaching the oven and came to kiss the top of his head. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Oh, I invited Nick to come to dinner. I hope that’s all right.”
“It is. It’ll be good to go over a few things with him before we head out tomorrow.”
“So they were finally able to load the Mary Elise?”
“They’re doing it tonight. There are a couple of other ships ahead of us.”
She quickly pulled on her apron. “I’ll finish up the laundry, then. I have some ironing to do.” She checked the food in the oven. “It looks perfect.”
“Elise . . .” He paused and shook his head.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” He forced a smile. “Thanks for your hard work.”
She came and gave him a hug. “I love taking care of you, Papa.”
“Your mother always said that she took great joy in serving me.” His eyes dampened. “I wish I’d served her more.”
“But you always served her! Mama said as much. She said she never once felt unloved or forgotten. You made her feel safe and protected and loved. What better service could you offer?” Elise stood back, and he looked up. She frowned, no doubt because of his tears.
“She helped me be more than I was without her. Now I fear I’m a lesser man.”
“Nonsense. I’m a better woman for what she gave to me, and I will always have that. Just as you will always have her mark on your heart and life. No one can take that from you.”
“I miss her greatly.”
“I know, and I do too.” Elise sat down beside him. “But I keep thinking of how unhappy she’d be to imagine we’d given up on life or let her passing rob us of our joy. What a dishonor to her to spend all our time mourning her loss. Mama was a woman of life and love. She wouldn’t want to be the cause of such grief and sorrow. She would tell us, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always,’ just as the Bible says.”
Bill considered this and knew his daughter was right. Mary would have admonished him to take hold of the joy God gave, to focus on all that was yet to come from His blessings rather than dwell on what could never be.
“I can hear her saying those very words.” He gave Elise a sad smile. “I will endeavor to take hold of the joy and love God offers me.”
He felt the warmth again. It was time to put aside his mantle of mourning. He knew there would still be sorrow on occasion. He would still know loneliness most of the time. But he would also seek God’s joy, no longer waiting on love when he already had it in abundance from his daughter and friends.
The image of his sweet wife came to mind once again as if to give her approval. “No big job is done all at once, Bill. Slow and steady will see you through with God’s help.” She had often said that when tasks seemed daunting. Even during the darkest storms, she had often reminded him that each step forward was still a movement of progress.
He smiled to himself and sighed. He didn’t have to completely miss her. She was always there with him in his thoughts and memories.
Chapter 12
Nick knocked on the cottage door and waited patiently for someone to answer. When Elise appeared at the door, he presented the small bouquet of flowers he’d purchased shortly after delivering her to her home earlier.
“I thought you might enjoy these. I know we’ll be leaving tomorrow, but maybe you can enjoy them tonight.”
Elise drew them to her face and breathed in deep. “I’ll take them with me on the ship. They won’t require that much room. Thank you for your thoughtfulness. No one has ever brought me flowers before.”
Nick started to say that he would see to it that she always had flowers, but he hesitated. He knew she enjoyed his company, but that might be a bit too presumptuous.
“Come on in, Nick,” her father called from the living room.
“Good evening, Captain.” Nick entered the house and took off his cap.
Elise reached for it. “Here, I can take that and your jacket, if you like. We keep the house warm so Papa can thaw his bones from the weeks on the lake.”
“But at the same time, we’re rather informal here,” the captain added. “No dinner coats or fancy trimmings like at my brother-in-law’s house.”
Nick doffed his coat and handed it to her. “Which is such a blessing. I used to overheat something
fierce when we had important dinners in the summer. Boston temperatures can be overbearing at times.”
Captain Wright stretched out his legs. “You’ll have to tell us more about that fair city. I’ve never been.”
“I’ve read a little of its history and about the fighting that took place near there for our independence from Great Britain,” Elise said, hanging his coat and hat on a peg by the door. Soon she rejoined them with just the bouquet in hand.
“What pretty flowers,” her father declared.
“Nick brought them for me. Wasn’t that thoughtful?”
She smiled at Nick, making him wish he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her. He reined in his thoughts. They were a long way from that kind of behavior, and it did no good to dwell on it before its time had come. He pushed the thoughts aside, but they continued to come back to the forefront of his mind. He’d never felt like this about anyone.
“It was very thoughtful. Have a seat, Nick. I think Elise said it would be a few more minutes.”
“Yes. I’ll put these flowers in water and then slice the roast.” She headed to the kitchen.
Nick took a seat on one of three empty chairs. The one he chose happened to be cushioned and covered in leather. He offered his captain a smile and picked up their conversation about Boston.
“I’d be happy to share about my hometown. It is quite the place.”
“We’d best wait for Elise. I wouldn’t want her to miss out. For now, I want to say how much I appreciate the job you’ve been doing. The men are pleased to work with you. Even Duran has stopped bringing up the sinking of the Polaris.”
“I’m grateful for that, to be sure.” Nick had already revealed all of the facts regarding the shipwreck to the captain, but even so, the topic made him uncomfortable.
“My point is that I believe your period of probation has been met and you have passed with flying colors. I want you to consider the Mary Elise your home, and I want you to know you’ll be given greater responsibility . . . as well as pay.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m grateful for the opportunity to restore my reputation.”
“Well, I’m certain any reasonable person would understand you can hardly judge a man by one mistake.”
“Dinner is served,” Elise announced from the doorway.
The captain rose quickly. “I feel half starved. Make haste, Mr. Clark. Pot roast awaits us.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Nick grinned and rose to follow Captain Wright into the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind that we are without a dining room. The kitchen is large enough to fit a table and chairs, so we eat here,” the older man said.
“I don’t mind at all. I rather like the coziness of it. It’s very personal.”
“Personal is another way of saying tiny,” Captain Wright replied, grinning. “We didn’t want a big house, however. The land never called to us like the lakes did. Like they continue to do.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Nick wished his own father could have understood that feeling.
Elise put bread and butter on the table and then took the chair her father had pulled out. “Please sit. We don’t want the food to get cold.”
The captain offered grace, speaking of his trust that God would redirect him to joy of spirit and peace of mind. Nick had no idea what was going on but figured he could ask Elise later.
“Amen,” Elise whispered after her father blessed the food. She reached for a large porcelain bowl and handed it to Nick. It was full of creamed corn. Next came the platter of roast beef cooked with a mixture of onions, carrots, and potatoes. Last of all was a gravy boat of beef broth. Nick found his mouth watering for the feast. By the time the bread and butter made its way around, he was more than ready to dive into the fare.
“Elise, this looks amazing,” Nick said, cutting into the tender meat.
“The girl can cook, there’s no mistakin’ that,” her father said.
“Caroline learned how to cook as well, but I doubt she’ll have any cause to use it now. I was told her house has twenty servants.” Elise took a sip of the fresh apple cider Mina had given them.
“With a four-story house and five acres of ground, I would think they’d need at least that many,” Captain Wright said matter-of-factly. “I wonder if she’s yet had time to explore it all.”
“I doubt it, since they boarded a ship for New York the day they wed. I do admit I would love to see Europe,” Elise said as she put butter on her bread. “But probably not for the reasons Caroline wants to go. She plans to buy a new wardrobe in Paris, and Nelson has promised her more jewelry.”
“So why would you want to go?” Nick asked.
She stopped what she was doing. “For the history, of course. The history and art and architecture. Mother used to talk about how grand it was when she visited as a girl. The palaces and churches, the great houses. Her descriptions were so lively and brilliant, I almost felt as if I could see them through her eyes. Do you remember, Papa, when she described the tulip fields in Holland?”
Her father chuckled. “I do, indeed. Your mother certainly had seen it all, and yet she preferred her life on the Mary Elise.”
“I believe I would feel the same,” Elise admitted, “but I would like to see it.”
Nick wanted to promise that if he had anything to say about it, she would. He had gone on a grand tour at the age of sixteen. His interests had fallen in line with those of Elise. His father had even hired an architect to take Nick around and show him various places and discuss the details of how a particular building had come to be. Of course, there had also been tours of textile mills.
“But what about Boston, Nick? Tell us about your town.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s hardly mine. I left at eighteen, and with only a few exceptions of port call, I’ve not returned. That’s been over ten years.”
“And you’ve not seen your family in all that time?” Elise asked.
“No. My father turned me out, and my sisters felt it their duty to side with him. I think I mentioned that I write to my friend Mrs. Schmitt. She has been the head housekeeper for as long as I can remember. She keeps me aware of the family’s health and activities. I doubt my father knows about it, however. I’m sure he’d soon put an end to it.”
“How sad.” Elise frowned. “I can’t imagine Papa not wanting to see me.”
“That’s because it will never happen,” the captain said. “Sometimes a man makes decisions he regrets. Your father may one day decide he was wrong—or perhaps he already has. It’s good that you maintain some sort of connection to your family.”
“I agree,” Elise said, picking up the small piece of bread she’d buttered. “I think you should make it very well known that you are eager to mend your fences.”
But was he? Nick considered that for a moment. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to go back to Boston and attempt reconciliation. After all, he would never take over the textile industry his father had built. Wouldn’t it just reopen old wounds to go back and state this fact once again?
“What did you love most about living there?” the captain asked, seeming to understand Nick’s thoughts were warring.
“The parks, the water, the architecture. There are some wonderful old buildings with such detail that you could study them all day and never tire. I used to stroll along the walks and be mesmerized by the detail. And the music! There’s always a concert somewhere or an organ recital. There are great pipe organs in the churches that play with the most amazing sound.” He touched his napkin to his lips. “There is always something different to study. I learned small boat sailing there and signed onto my first ocean schooner out of Boston Harbor. But I admit that I prefer the lakes.”
“I’ve never known the difference, but I agree with you all the same, lad.”
Elise smiled at her father. “I made your favorite custard pie. I hope you saved room for it.”
Captain Wright reached over to pat her hand. “Of course I did. I saw you
with the cream and eggs and knew what you were up to.”
Elise scooted back from the table. “Then I’ll go retrieve it now.” She made her way to a small table on the other side of the stove. “I’ve sprinkled it with nutmeg, just as you like it.”
“She’s an amazing girl, my Elise. Always lookin’ to please and most generally accomplishing that and more.”
“I can well imagine,” Nick said, watching her as she made her way back to the table. “Talented and beautiful.”
She met his gaze and blushed. “You should stop that. I’ve already promised you pie. You don’t have to charm me to earn your share.”
“Even if there were no pie, I would sing your praises,” Nick assured her.
“Robert Wayfair!” a burly, bearded man called to Booker Duran.
“I’m sorry, you’ve the wrong man.” Booker kept his face down. Thankfully the tavern was noisy and full of strangers.
“Now, Bob, I’d be knowin’ you anywhere. ’Tis you, or my name isn’t Rummy Carlson.”
Duran knew there’d be no shutting the man up unless he acknowledged him.
“For pity’s sake, man, shut up.” Booker glared up at Rummy with a look that would have stopped the devil himself. He yanked the man down into the chair beside him at a small corner table. In a whisper, Booker spoke his mind. “I don’t go by that name anymore.”
Rummy’s eyes widened. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did,” Booker growled. “The name is Booker Duran.” He held his hand out as if to shake the other man’s hand, but Rummy was still uncertain what was going on.
Booker refocused on his drink. “I’ve got some marital problems, so I changed my name. I don’t want the old witch to find me.”
“Oh,” Rummy replied, nodding. He gave Booker a slap on the back and a grin. “We all know how that goes. I thought mebbe you had forgotten your old pal.”
“Not at all. Let me buy you a beer. But you’ll have to promise me your silence on my true identity.”
“But that goes without saying,” Rummy declared, motioning toward Booker with crossed fingers. “I promise. I can’t have a good man such as yourself hounded and hunted down by a woman.”
Waiting on Love Page 12
