by Lisa Harris
“Rebecca, how are you?” he asked.
“I’m doing fine, thank you.” Her voice sounded formal and lacked its normal passion. “Business at the shop is very good right now.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Suddenly he knew he wanted that private good-bye he’d missed with her. Maybe it was a foolish sentiment but one he was afraid he would regret later if he didn’t at least ask. “Have you ever been up on the widow’s walk on the roof of the house?”
She shook her head slowly, as if she didn’t understand what he was really asking.
“The view of the ocean is incredible. I’d love to show you….”
“Go ahead, Rebecca,” his mother encouraged. “We’re finished for the day.”
Rebecca turned back to him, and he tried to read the expression on her face. Longing yet hesitation. Anticipation mixed with grief? He’d been foolish to speak so hastily.
“I’m sorry,” he began. “If you need to leave—”
“No, it’s fine. I’d like to see it.”
As he made his way up the narrow staircase to the roof, Rebecca followed slightly behind him. He could feel the awkwardness growing between them. It was as obvious as the sound of her skirts swishing against the stone walls and the rickety steps beneath his feet. No longer could they ignore his imminent departure.
Once they were at the top of the house, he led her to the railing that secured the edge of the small widow’s walk.
“The view is breathtaking.” She brushed a number of loose wisps away from her face then took a deep breath of the sea air.
“This was always my favorite place to come when I was a boy.”
A brisk wind blew in from the ocean, which from this point one could see for miles. An endless movement of blues and grays that met the cloudless sky in the distance. The shoreline spread out beneath them, like one of John Banvard’s famous panoramic paintings that made it possible for viewers to see the world in colored detail. Waterfront businesses lined the harbor, the tide lapped against the coast, and in the distance the American flag flew proudly at the bow of a yacht.
“My father once told me about the widows’ walks where the sailors’ wives could come watch for the ships of their husbands to come into the harbor.” Her fingers grasped the railing.
“I remember finding my mother here countless times as she watched for the Annabella that was to carry my father home on that last voyage.”
She turned toward him. “It must have been hard for her, raising you alone for all those years he was out at sea; yet it seems to me she was content with life.”
“It was always a happy life. For years my grandparents lived with us. My grandfather had acquired a sizable fortune by owning his own vessel in a time when whale cadavers were at a premium.”
“Where is the Annabella now?”
“My father was her captain until she went down in a horrible storm off the coast of Nantucket Island.”
“Is that when he died?”
Luke nodded. “A handful of men were able to make it to shore, but he went down with the ship. It was a horrible loss of life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I miss that I wasn’t able to know him really. He died when I was quite young.”
Just as he’d never understood as a child why God took his father, he didn’t understand today why God had brought Rebecca into his life only for him to lose her. But if nothing else, he would try to be thankful for the times they’d shared. It would have to be enough.
“I’m thinking about going home for Christmas,” she said, seeming to try to fill the silence that hung between them.
“Do you plan to return to Boston?”
“I don’t know. We just received a letter, and my stepmother, Michaela, is expecting a baby sometime in January. I’d like to be home to help. And then there’s my brother Adam’s maple farm. They’ll be harvesting the syrup early next year. “
“What about your work here?”
She shrugged, and he hated the sense of despondency that had come over her. “I’ve already begun training a well-qualified seamstress to help with the workload. I don’t think it would take much to find a second person if I decided not to come back.”
“My mother will miss you.” His words were foolish, and he knew it. Why couldn’t he come out and say exactly what was on his heart? “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
He watched her as she stared out across the ocean, and for the first time he understood why she couldn’t wait for him. He’d seen his own pain mirrored in her eyes as he spoke about the loss of his father. She feared the same fate would happen to her. It had been wrong of him to hope she might agree to wait until he returned. She was young and had her whole life ahead of her. Standing on the widow’s walk waiting for him was a place where she should never be.
She shivered beside him. As much as he longed to extend their time together, he knew he couldn’t.
“Why don’t we go back down to the house now? Once the sun drops, the temperature will fall, as well.”
She looked up into his eyes, her lips parted slightly. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t process the reality that this was more than likely the last time he’d ever see her.
“May I kiss you good-bye?” He spoke the words without thinking, but even as he asked the question, he didn’t regret it.
Nodding, she took a small step toward him. He gathered her into his arms with a passion he’d never felt before. When his lips met hers, the regret over his leaving intensified, until he lost himself in the softness of her kiss.
With tears in her eyes, she pulled away to look up at him one last time then turned toward the steps and was gone.
nine
Trying to concentrate on the final seam of the colorful quilt top, Rebecca pushed the needle into the cream-colored fabric and winced as the sharp end jabbed her index finger. A tiny pool of blood soaked through the center of the material, ruining the square.
She let out a sigh of frustration then carefully ripped off the spoiled square. While it wasn’t yet her usual hour to retire for the evening, she knew she needed to stop. The sun that had filtered light into her bedroom for the past two hours had now slipped below the horizon, so she turned up the wick slightly on the kerosene lamp. For a week she’d thrown herself into her work. During the day she ran the shop’s showroom and worked on slipcover orders. By night she sewed diligently to transform the boxes of scraps into colorful quilt tops that would grace the beds of the orphans this winter.
With the involvement of Mrs. Hutton, as well as a half dozen other women from church, they’d already managed to complete five quilts for the children, leaving another fifteen to make. With the cold-weather months upon them, they couldn’t afford to fall behind on the project. If only she wasn’t so tired.
Yawning, she folded the quilt top then set it on the small table beside her bed. Agnes had been thrilled to hear about the upcoming donations for the children in her care, but despite the excitement she felt about the project, Rebecca still couldn’t shake the restlessness inside.
Staying busy wasn’t helping at all. By next week her work for Mrs. Hutton would be complete, but she had plenty of other orders that needed to be finished. Still, it seemed that as much as she tried to stay occupied, she couldn’t erase the image in her mind of her last moments with Luke.
As they’d stood at the edge of the widow’s walk facing the ocean, she’d been sure he was going to ask her one last time to wait for him. And at that moment, despite her earlier hesitations, she would have said yes. But instead he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, proving to her how much she was losing. When she pulled away and looked into his eyes, she knew he wasn’t going to ask her to wait.
He’d only been thinking of her, and he’d been right in his decision. But being right didn’t fill the emptiness in her heart. Not marrying Jake had been her decision. In the end she’d faced the situation head-on, knowing that what she wa
s doing was best despite the fact it had been painful to let him go. With Luke things were different. It had never been her choice to end things between them, especially when she’d decided to open her heart again and take a chance on finding love.
Rebecca shoved back the chair she’d been working in then walked to the open window. Outside the moon shone brightly in the darkening sky, competing with the hundreds of stars that were making their nightly appearance. A cricket chirped below her. A dog howled in the distance. The clip-clop patter of a horse’s hooves kept time with the lively piano tune coming from the neighbor’s home. Normally she enjoyed the nightly symphony of music that played out between nature and the bustling city around her, but tonight her eyes were focused on the darkened waters of the Atlantic. Through a small clearing in the skyline, she could see the silhouette of a boat entering the harbor. A fisherman coming home to his family after a day’s work, or maybe a rich businessman returning in his yacht from a relaxing day at sea.
Luke had left three days ago. That afternoon she’d watched the tips of a ship’s white sails flutter in the breeze from this window and wondered if it was the Liberty, the very vessel that was taking him away from her.
Her fists gripped tightly at her sides, she felt the wetness of a tear travel down her cheek. It isn’t fair, Lord. Why should I finally decide to give my heart away only to have it shatter into a million tiny pieces?
Except for the rumbling of thunder in the distance and the normal nightly sounds, silence greeted her instead of the reply she longed for. It wasn’t as if she expected God to appear before her and give her the answers, but she needed something. Some obvious sign that letting go of Luke had been God’s will.
Her Bible lay on the bedside table, and she plopped onto the feather mattress and picked it up. Where was the verse Caroline had mentioned to her last week? Flipping through her Bible, she finally found the fifth chapter of First Peter. “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.”
She closed her Bible and hugged the book to her chest. Cast all your cares on Him. Why was it so easy to know the truth of a matter and so difficult to take it to heart? She knew God cared about her. Hadn’t He created her? She knew He loved her to the point where He knew how many hairs were on her head and even counted the steps she took. Her father had made sure she knew these truths from a young age. That the God they served was not one who lived far from them but had given His Holy Spirit to live within those who followed Him.
Lord, help me to give up my fears and frustrations and learn how to follow You with all my heart. I want to find contentment in You.
Walking back to the windowsill, she watched the display of lightning brighten the distant sky. Billowing clouds had covered up all but a sliver of the moon as a storm blew in across the water. Somewhere, out among the crashing waves and endless miles of expanse, Luke was more than likely studying this very sky. How many ships now lay at the bottom of the sea from the spectacular handiwork being displayed tonight?
She pushed back a loose wisp of hair from across her face and shuddered at the thought. All she could do now was pray.
The air in the captain’s cabin hung heavily around Luke. Sunlight shone through the small window, but with the dark storm clouds rolling in, the last rays of light would soon disappear. Captain Taft sat at his desk across from Luke, his elbows resting against the solid oak desk that separated them. A matter of discipline had presented itself in the early stages of the voyage. An unschooled sailor thought his philosophies of running the ship were superior to the captain’s. After a fight that ended with the same young chap getting his nose split down the middle, the man had attempted to throw one of his fellow crewmen off the bow of the ship. The captain quickly took over the situation and sent the man to the brig for a couple of days of solitude. While the captain was a just and honorable man, he ran his ship with a firm hand, something Luke knew was essential for the survival of the crew.
The ship rocked beneath them, and the captain’s pen rolled across the table. Lightning cracked in the distance like a whip, flashing its brilliance against the cabin walls.
“The storm’s increasing in velocity,” the captain said, picking up his pen and setting it into the top drawer of his desk. “This will be a good first test of how the crew works together.”
Luke nodded then let out a knowing chuckle. “I’m thankful most are experienced, with the exception of our brig occupant, Mr. Lawrence. This will no doubt be a test of strength for him.”
The captain rubbed his graying beard then leaned back in his chair before catching Luke’s gaze. “This is going to be your last voyage, isn’t it?”
Luke raised his brow in surprise at his superior’s question. “To be honest, sir, the lure of the sea has never lessened for me, but I find it hard to imagine myself spending the rest of my life at her mercies. It’s my parents’ dream to see me captain of my own vessel, not mine.”
“Then you hide your emotions well.”
“Maybe, but no matter what my decision about future voyages might be, I assure you my commitment to this voyage, this crew, and to you as my captain has not diminished in the least. Nor will it until we step back on land at the end of our journey.”
“I never thought it would.” There was a twinkle in the older man’s eyes. “Who is she?”
Luke leaned forward. “I beg your pardon?”
“Who is she? Only one thing can snatch a man from the lure of the sea—a woman.”
Sensing the amusement in his voice, Luke relaxed. “There was someone, but she’s not the reason for my reevaluating my future.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. My mind was pretty well made up before I met her, though I will admit she’s going to be hard to forget.”
“Hasn’t she agreed to wait for you?”
“No, sir.” Speaking the word aloud caused Luke’s heart to plummet. “I couldn’t ask that of her.”
“Then I suggest you forget her.” The captain slapped his hands against the desk. “We have a voyage ahead of us such that if our focus isn’t one hundred percent on the job at hand, we’ll all suffer. Lives are at stake, something I know you realize, but I know the effects women can have on my men. Unfortunately, none of us is immune to their charms at all times.”
“Yes, sir. I won’t forget.”
After a couple of more suggestions from the captain regarding the crew’s schedule, Luke made his way up onto the deck, where the winds continued to pick up. It was time to forget about Rebecca Johnson. Time to forget her captivating smile and her laugh. Besides, the captain was right. He knew if they didn’t find a way to stay on the outskirts of the storm, they were in for trouble. And even if they did manage to miss the worst of the torrent, he had no doubt this was going to be a long night.
By the next morning, instead of the storm abating, it had increased in its fury. The head winds had grown stronger, and visibility was limited as the ship fought against the unseasonably strong winds. The ship’s compass had been affected by the relentlessness of the storm, a serious fact considering celestial navigation was impossible because of the heavy cloud cover. Hour after hour found the crew attempting to avoid the brunt of the storm that raged around them. Luke struggled at the wheel, every muscle in his body exhausted from fighting against the winds.
The captain was worried. Luke had noticed the tension in his jaw when he’d left the bridge to supervise the rest of the crew in their endeavors to keep the ship afloat. Pounding waves continued to lash against the sides of the ship, flooding the deck with several inches of water. Luke had read plenty of accounts of shipwreck disasters and had imagined the horror of taking one’s last breath of air before being swallowed into the depths of the sea. He had no desire to die that way. It had always been a reality he chose not to consider. But today things were different. It was a possibility he couldn’t ignore.
Water dripped down his forehead and onto his clothes, which were already soaked from the constant barrage of waves
hitting the ship. Shivering, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The cup of lukewarm coffee he’d inhaled earlier had been his only source of nourishment all morning, if it could even be considered that. His stomach grumbled in complaint, but he couldn’t give in to the strong desire to escape to the galley for a meal. That would come later. If it came at all.
A sharp crack ripped through the morning air as if the helm of the ship were being split in two. The vessel shuddered beneath him as it struck something. Men shouted above the commotion as they fought to save the ship. Moments later Luke saw the bright lights of a red flare being shot into the murky sky … then nothing.
ten
“She’s so beautiful.” Rebecca sat down on the featherbed beside Caroline and ran the back of her thumb across the soft cheek of the newborn who lay nestled peacefully in her mother’s arms. “I’d forgotten how small babies are.”
“She is tiny, but thank the Lord she’s healthy despite her early arrival.” Caroline’s face beamed with happiness, all the complaints of her condition forgotten with the arrival of the baby. “What smells so wonderful?”
“Hungry?”
“Famished, actually.”
“Good, because I made you a thick beef stew.”
Caroline’s brow narrowed. “And wherever did you find the time to cook something for me?”
“Somewhere between Mrs. Kendall’s slipcovers and Myra Potter’s lined draperies.”
“And don’t forget the quilts for the orphans. I know you’ve spent hours of your own time on that project.” Caroline reached down and kissed the baby gently on the forehead. “You know I’m going to be spoiled before long. Susan Parker came by last night and told me several women at church would be bringing meals for the next few days. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so well.”
“Then I won’t even mention the mince pie Aunt Clara made for dessert.”
Caroline groaned, but the delight was obvious in her eyes. “I just can’t get over the miracle of this little one’s entrance into the world.”
