by Jina Bacarr
Or was it something else?
A gut-wrenching gnawing that kept eating at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.
He stared at the black sea filled with ice chunks, all too aware his desire to save the woman he loved was no different than every other man on the ship. He respected that, but he wouldn’t give up until he knew for certain Ava was safe in a lifeboat.
And then… he didn’t want to think about what would happen when the end came. He was afraid, no sane man wouldn’t be, but he would have to rely on his survival instinct being strong enough to pull him through.
Whatever he had to do.
Dive into the bloody sea if he had to. To hell with all these rigid rules of how he should act, he decided once and for all. She’d changed him. Made him see things differently. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in boudoirs covered in silk damask and ripe with the smell of heady perfume.
He wanted her.
He was taken aback by this sudden rush of emotion he felt for Ava. It wasn’t just that she was stubborn and pigheaded.
And beautiful.
God damn it, she loved him. She’d said so. Her sheer determination to tell him took him by surprise. He couldn’t say it back, though God knew he wanted to. Years of flirting with pretty women and the words came easy to him.
Except with Ava.
He was saddled with doubt that because of his reputation, he didn’t know if she’d believe him. And that hurt more than anything.
Buck swallowed hard. Everything she did came rushing back to him. She was part of his soul and he refused to believe he’d lost her forever.
A cold wind sliced through him, sending a sharp pain to his heart that made him groan. If anything happened to her because of him, he’d be doomed to hell and deservedly so. He could change, he told himself. Mistakes could be undone. All he had to do was survive. That kept him going.
Hope.
And faith.
He snapped to attention when he heard a ship’s officer shout out they needed hands to clear the collapsible boats from on top of the officers’ quarters.
Mr Lightoller.
Damn, were the emergency boats all that were left?
They were less than half the length of the wooden ones.
Buck could see the seamen fitting the collapsible into the davits while his ears rang when the crew detonated the last distress rockets. His head throbbed. God help the poor souls still trapped down below. He’d tried to help more passengers find their way up, but the rushing water made it impossible. A deepening guilt washed over him when the lifeboat was ready for loading and the ship’s officer called for women and children. No telling how many steerage passengers hadn’t found their way up on top.
Were Ava and the countess still on board?
Waiting for the boat?
Buck shook his head. Knowing Ava, if she was looking for him, she wouldn’t respond to the call. She didn’t listen to him, did she?
Still, he couldn’t take that chance.
He pushed through the crowd, only to be stopped by a seaman. ‘Sorry, sir, women and children first.’
‘I’m looking for two ladies—’ Buck began.
‘I said, women and children first.’
Buck wouldn’t be dissuaded. ‘I demand you let me speak to Mr Lightoller.’
It was a risky move on his part since the second officer believed Ava was the countess. Buck depended on the frenetic atmosphere on deck to confuse the man’s memory. Along with the fact Ava wore a veil over her face and the countess wore her distinctive black coat. Putting the two women into a boat would have been a blur to the ship’s officer.
He hoped.
He needn’t have worried. He couldn’t even get near him. The officer ordered his crew to form a ring around the lifeboat to prevent a repeat of the stampede Buck had seen earlier when men with daggers and clubs rushed the boat.
‘Sorry, sir,’ repeated the seaman, his tone firm but polite. ‘I must ask you to back away. We’re lowering the boat.’
‘I’m looking for the Countess of Marbury and her lady’s maid.’ Buck craned his neck to see who was in the lifeboat as it was lowered very slowly over the side, but the deepening darkness made it impossible. ‘I left them on the Promenade Deck.’
The seaman didn’t answer him. Buck refused to panic in spite of the red glow of the lights behind him casting an eerie spell over the scene. Instead a fiery anger swelled up inside him at the thought that he couldn’t save her. God help him if both women were still on the ship. Only minutes left before the Titanic foundered and they’d all be tossed into the freezing, cold sea.
‘Did I hear you ask about the countess?’
Buck spun around so quickly his wet shoes squeaked on the teak deck. To his surprise, he recognized American businessman, Colonel Archibald Gracie. A gentleman he’d seen in the smoking room, though they hadn’t been introduced.
‘Yes, the Countess of Marbury,’ he said.
‘You needn’t worry, sir,’ said the colonel with certainty. ‘I saw the countess get into lifeboat number four.’
‘What about her maid?’ Buck rushed his words, not giving a damn about their implication.
His apparent interest in a servant caused a slight lifting of the colonel’s brow. ‘Sorry, your lordship,’ he said, trying to be discreet, but Buck could see he watched his every move, puzzled. ‘The countess was alone.’
‘Was the boat filled to capacity?’ Buck had to ask.
‘No… about forty passengers.’
Buck couldn’t believe it. Where was Ava? Each wooden lifeboat held sixty-five passengers. Why the hell don’t they fill the boats?
The countess was safe, but he had no doubt Ava was still on board looking for him.
That wonderful, crazy Irish girl.
She’s risking her life to find you. What other woman would do such a fool thing?
Taking a deep breath to get his pulse started again and nodding his thanks to a bemused colonel, Buck raced down the narrow companionway to A Deck. He walked with a brisk pace up and down on the port side, half expecting to see Ava waiting there for him.
He was disappointed. The deck was empty.
Not giving up, he started down to the next deck when—
‘Buck!’
He raced back up the stairs. Trey. The American was out of breath, his face dripping with sweat, his features drawn. They’d split up to look for Ava and the countess with Trey searching the starboard side of the ship. He must have seen him topside and chased him down.
Buck studied him for a long moment. ‘Did you find Ava?’ he asked. He became uncomfortably aware Trey was watching him with the same intensity.
Trey shook his head. ‘No sign of her or Fiona. They must have gotten off the ship in a boat.’
‘Fiona’s safe,’ Buck said, patting his old friend on the back. ‘Colonel Gracie told me the countess got away in a lifeboat.’
But not Ava.
‘Thank God,’ Trey breathed out, relieved. Then in the next breath he asked with an urgency that surprised Buck, ‘Where’s Ava?’
‘No one has seen her, Trey,’ Buck said in a low voice. ‘She must still be on board the ship.’
Looking for me.
‘No time to waste, Buck.’ Trey swiveled his head from side to side, frantic. ‘You go down to B Deck while I keep searching for her topside. We’ve got to find her.’
He started to run off. Buck grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
‘You must save yourself, Trey,’ he said with an edge to his voice that was more of a command above everything else.
‘We’ve got to find Ava first.’ Pacing up and down, Trey acted like he didn’t hear him. What was wrong with him?
Swallowing hard, Buck pushed aside his own conflicting emotions. He couldn’t forget another woman’s happiness was also at stake. Gentle as a gray dove, but strong as granite, Fiona would need a protector if he didn’t make it.
‘Aren’t you forgett
ing something?’ Buck said, gritting his teeth.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Trey looked puzzled, his jaw set.
‘There’s Fiona to consider,’ he said.
‘What about Ava?’ Trey asked, his hard stare telling Buck something else was at play here. His composure slipped and Trey realized he’d exposed his deep feelings for the Irish girl. It wasn’t a mad flirtation that kept his friend from saving himself, but something he’d been too blind to see.
His eyes burned with something Buck had never seen there before. Intense emotion that said his friend had not given up the chase after all.
He’s also in love with Ava.
It was high time Trey grew up.
Buck heard the loud, creaking sound of a lifeboat being lowered near the open window frame where they stood. An idea formed in his mind.
‘Fiona is depending on you, Trey,’ he said firmly.
‘But, Buck—’
‘You wouldn’t let down the countess.’ The lifeboat was coming closer.
Trey straightened his shoulders, nodded. ‘No, of course not.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Buck could see the boat inch down slowly by them. He was annoyed with Trey, but he didn’t let on. He raced through an open door beyond the glass windows and leaned over the top edge of the port side of the ship.
The lifeboat making its descent hung not more than several feet from where he stood on the gunwale.
‘Any more women up there?’ a seaman called out to him.
‘No,’ Buck shouted back.
‘Come on then, jump! We’ve room for one more.’
Trey was at his side in an instant. ‘You go, Buck.’
‘No, the countess needs you.’ He gave him a half-smile. ‘Besides, I’m a better swimmer.’
Trey shrugged. ‘You always did win the bet, Buck.’ As he stood on the gunwale, he stiffened, then turned slowly back toward him. ‘See you in New York, old man.’
Then, after taking a moment to balance himself, he leaped into the air and jumped.
Buck’s heart thudded. The stark realization that he’d never see his friend again ripped through him with the jagged pain of a knife. He waited until he saw him land square in the lifeboat hard, but uninjured.
Trey looked up at him. In the dim light he could see his friend toss him a wave. He was full of himself by nature, Buck knew, and was the first to admit it. Whatever their differences regarding women, he’d miss that about him the most. He wouldn’t give up hope he’d see him in New York.
Trey grabbed an oar and begin rowing to get the boat clear from the ship.
Buck wasted no time starting back up to the Boat Deck. Seawater poured in through the door and the ship settled forward to a greater degree. The water came at him so fast, it nearly pinned him between the deck and its ceiling. He had to fight his way up, using long, hard strokes to get to the top.
Praying his luck would last, he made it up the narrow stairway and hit the open deck running. The mist still hung over the semi-darkness, floating around everything like a gossamer dream. He felt the panic and tension everywhere, the hard, hot pulse of the situation driving him forward. Water flooded the bridge and passengers climbed over the rail and jumped into the sea.
The moment held such horror, but Buck didn’t let it deter him from his purpose. He wouldn’t stop looking for Ava.
The Carpathia, the rescue ship, was still hours away.
If Ava was on this ship, he had to get her off now.
When he found her, he’d never let her go.
Hell, yes, he would survive.
Buck edged his way slowly over to the port side through the freezing cold seawater pouring over the Boat Deck. There he helped Second Officer Lightoller cut the lashings holding the collapsible lifeboat on top of the officers’ quarters. No time to get it loaded in the davits. The two men floated it off the top, but they couldn’t hold onto it and it crashed into the sea unmanned.
‘It’s every man for himself now, your lordship,’ said the ship’s officer.
‘Right you are, sir,’ Buck said, clasping his hand in a firm handshake. ‘I’ll never forget what you did getting the countess away in a lifeboat.’
‘I must say, Captain Lord Blackthorn, she’s quite a handful.’
Buck stepped back in his mind, knowing he couldn’t have heard right. Fiona a handful?
‘What did you say?’ he asked carefully.
‘I said that she’s—’
His next words were lost.
Down, down dipped the bow and a great wave washed over the bridge on the Boat Deck below them, sending the ship’s officer jumping over the low rail to assist helpless passengers thrashing about on the deck. Buck followed him. He could see steamer chairs sliding down the wet deck, the sea dragging along everything in its path.
Icy water slapped his thighs.
Buck held onto the rail as a reverberating rumble shattered his senses, as loud as an artillery barrage. Shattering his brain and making him shake. His head was jerked back so violently he swore his neck had snapped.
In shock, his ears went deaf and the screaming ceased in his head.
A man grabbed onto him, panicked. Buck strained to hold onto him, but the man toppled forward and down into the sea curling dangerously closer to where he was standing.
Buck continued to hold onto the railing, his fingers white, his knuckles bulging. Christ, the ship wouldn’t last much longer. He was determined not to be dumped into the cold, black sea and he dared not lose his head.
There had to be another way.
But how? Fear energized the crowd of hundreds hanging on when the ship reached its tipping point. What struck Buck to the nerve was the realization the band had stopped playing. For the past hour the brave musicians had played one tune after another on the Boat Deck, alleviating panic among the passengers.
Now no one could hear anything but the rising, horrific sounds of the ship giving in to the ravages of the sea filling its decks.
The ship took a definite plunge, causing Buck to lose his grip on the slippery, wet rail. He slid down the deck toward the bow, every step he’d taken undone as he flew backward in a dark instant. He caught his breath, turned, and as he worked his way up toward the stern where the deck was still out of the water, a woman banged into him. Her scream came so close to his ear, his hearing shot back in a flash.
He tried to grab her. Too late. She flew by him and was carried away by the wave washing over the deck.
Buck moved fast, and if he dared admit it, he raced with fear clawing at his insides when the ship’s bow lunged deeper into the water.
She was going down in a nosedive. Only one thing he could do.
Damn well better get it over with.
Buck stood on the top deck, his heart pounding, his whole being not letting go of this determination to survive. A filling up of his spirit gave him strength. A holy awakening he’d never felt before. Like he was in God’s hands.
Ava would understand.
Amazing that at this moment, he embraced the beliefs of the Irish girl who had touched his soul with her own, believing he wasn’t alone in his moment of need. Because of her. He made his decision as a great rush of water filled his ears. If he waited too long, he’d be dragged under when the ship sank.
The time was now.
Buck dove into the sea.
When he hit the deadly cold water, the sensation of being skinned alive struck him, every nerve in his body burning as the freezing water closed over him, shutting out the world above he wanted so desperately to find.
Using all his strength, he moved his arms and kicked hard until he rose to the surface. Shouts filled his ears. Screams. Deafening sounds.
The crash of metal. Two violent explosions.
He began swimming through the shadows dancing around him. Bodies bobbed up and down in the water, lit up only by the ghostly white of their lifebelts. Everywhere he looked, he saw scores of men and women fighting the sea, grappling with its pull
and the icy water.
Their high-pitched cries rang through the air, accompanied by agonizing moans and ear-splitting sounds, while everything on the ship not tied down smashed together like wayward dominoes.
Waterford glasses shattering like ice crystals.
Thousands of china dishes crashing through their cabinets.
Tables and chairs flying everywhere, even through the tall glass windows and onto the deck.
A chilling numbness took hold of him as he stroked hard against the current. The familiar pattern of arm over arm, feet kicking, took over and he cut through the sea like he belonged in it. He swam clear and spied the collapsible he and Mr Lightoller had launched floating not more than ten feet away. He estimated a dozen or more poor souls standing on the upturned boat.
Seawater ran off him as he tried to climb aboard the upside-down lifeboat, the weight of the water pulling him back. For a moment he thought he wouldn’t make it, then a powerful urge to live socked him in the gut. Something fierce inside him gave him the strength to grab the rope hanging over the side of the boat and pull himself aboard. Men bickering, shouting, no one in charge. Buck counted himself lucky, but for how long? A damning cold penetrated his wet clothes as he shuffled his feet on the upturned boat to balance himself. Water sloshing over his ankles, he didn’t give up though his body felt numb, his eyebrows, his hair frosty from the cold.
Buck turned and saw a man struggling and kicking in the water.
His poker companion, Mr Charters.
‘Boat ahoy, Mr Charters!’ Buck yelled.
‘Good God, it’s you, your lordship,’ the man sputtered, spitting up water and heaving deep breaths. He wasn’t wearing a lifebelt.
Mr Charters flapped his arms about, getting closer to the boat, but not close enough.
Buck leaned over and reached out to grab the man’s hand, trying to pull him aboard. He slipped out of his grip time and time again.
‘Stay with me, Mr Charters!’ he screamed, urging the portly gent to climb aboard the collapsible as if sensing his raw terror and trying to reassure him.
‘He’ll sink us!’ someone on board cried out.
Buck paid him no mind. The man deserved a chance. They all did.
