It’s the Lord. What would Blanche think if he said that? She might faint alongside Pettigrew, and what a mess that would make of things. “What happened?”
“Captain Pettigrew fell and broke his arm. Since someone had to stay at the helm…” She risked a quick glance at Ike then returned her attention to the front window. “I had to take over.”
“She’s doing a fine job of it, too.” A weak voice spoke from the floor.
“You’re awake.” Blanche shifted her feet beneath her. “I was getting worried about you. Ike, is there someone in the crew who sets bones and such?”
“One of the valets.”
“Good. Get him to look after Captain Pettigrew.”
Ike hesitated. He had come to offer them his help and support, and she was sending him away?
“Unless you want to take the helm?” She didn’t turn around.
“Not him. You. You’re doing a good job,” Pettigrew said.
“Old Obie would be proud.” Ike draped Pettigrew’s good arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. His right arm dangled at his side, the elbow jutting out at an odd angle.
Ike speared Blanche with his eyes. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”
“I’m not alone.” Her voice shook the slightest bit.
Ike glanced around the pilothouse. Who?
“God.” She answered his unasked question. “God reminded me that He is always with me.”
Of course. A smile came to his face. He couldn’t wait to tell her about his decision, but now wasn’t the time. He took her words to his heart.
“Now go. Send Pete up here once you leave the captain with the valet.”
Lightning flashed in the distance, accenting her words. “The storm is moving away. I’ll be fine.”
Ike and Pettigrew had already taken a step down the stairs. She was wrong about one thing; he would come back himself rather than send relief. Until the crisis had passed, he wanted to stay by her side. In good times and bad. The two of them had a lot to talk about.
Somewhere, in the long stretches of the night, Blanche’s argument with God turned to praise. With each shift of the wheel, each tug of the bell pull to the engine room, she felt His presence stronger and stronger. Every time lightning illuminated the sky, she remembered lessons her father had taught her. If she could get through this storm without harm to vessel or personnel, she could pass the pilot test with ease.
Lightning flashed to her far left, and she held her breath while she counted under her breath. One Mississippi, two Mississippi… She got as far as ten Mississippi before thunder followed. The storm was falling behind them. She pulled the bell to slow the engines.
Ike was sweet, the way he didn’t want to leave her to face the big bad storm alone. He hadn’t even teased her when she said God was with her. Was it possible? No. God had given them one miracle in bringing her through this storm. She couldn’t expect Ike to change his soul-deep beliefs after such a short time.
She jerked her mind back from the subject, rejecting the distraction. What she needed was a cup of coffee. Weariness warred with her stamina. When Captain Pettigrew and Ike were in the room, she could carry on a conversation. Of course she could talk with God, but it wasn’t the same.
Sing. That worked in the past when she needed help focusing. She envisioned the hymnal from Christ the King church. Starting with the front piece, she sang the doxology. “Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.” Also inside the front cover she envisioned the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. She scrunched her eyes in concentration then forced them open to keep her eyes on the river.
The first hymn, “Holy, Holy, Holy,” repeated the cry of the angels in front of the emerald throne from Revelation. She sang through hymns of praise, sometimes singing one verse, sometimes all of them, humming when she couldn’t remember the words. With each song, the time between lightning and thunder grew further apart. By the time she got to “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty!” she realized she hadn’t seen any lightning for a few minutes, and she caught a glimpse of the moon as the wind blew the clouds away.
Praise the Lord. They had survived.
CHAPTER 33
The back of Ike’s eyes felt like sandpaper, but his heart was as soft as cotton. The night had ended and the storm had passed. He and Blanche planned to walk the ship from stem to stern, to determine what damages the Cordelia had sustained. Elaine had changed her mind and relit the oven for a hot breakfast. Never had grits, crisp bacon, and orange juice tasted so good skipping down his throat.
“We should get going.” Blanche wore her old, sensible black traveling suit, but Ike didn’t blame her. He had donned Levi’s himself. Water, mud, splinters—he suspected they would find all of that, and more, from what the watery moonlight revealed last night.
“We have time to finish another cup of coffee.” Ike poured them each a fresh cup and grabbed a couple of peach muffins for good measure. “I asked Effie to join us.”
Blanche blinked. “I thought you would want to check everything right away.” She made no effort to leave the table.
“I do, but I have something I need to tell you first. And here’s Effie.” The door opened and Effie took a seat at the table. “I have coffee and muffins for us to celebrate.”
Blanche stirred cream into her coffee. “What are we celebrating? Surviving the storm?”
“That’s part of it.” Effie nudged Ike in the side. “Tell her.”
Blanche set the spoon back on the napkin. “What is it?”
Ike couldn’t keep the scowl on his face, and a smile broke out. “Effie asked me to pray during the storm.”
“And he did.”
A smile as brilliant as sunshine lit Blanche’s face. “That’s wonderful. Amazing!” She grabbed one of the muffins and split it open.
Another nudge poked him in the ribs.
“And then I realized—with Effie’s help, of course”—he patted her hand—“if I believed in God enough to think He’d care about us in the middle of a storm, and if I believed He had enough power to do something about it… then I must believe the rest of it, too.”
Blanche slowly spread butter on her muffin that melted into the surface while her smile grew even bigger. “You mean…”
“I asked Jesus to be my Savior. I’ve joined the good guys, or I guess, God made me one.”
The butter knife slipped from Blanche’s hand and clanged against the plate as she clapped her hands. Her cheeks grew fever pink, and her breath came in little gasps. She swallowed a couple of times and drank from her water glass. When she finally spoke, her voice came out in a whisper. “Praise God. Oh, praise God.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I doubted God.” Her laugh came out as a hiccup. “You seemed, well, different, last night, and I wondered if something had happened.”
“But you didn’t think I would ever change my mind?” Ike didn’t blame her. “I didn’t think so, either.”
This time the tears slid from her eyes down her cheeks. “I told God He had performed one miracle already, helping me pilot the boat. I didn’t want to be greedy and expect two miracles in one night. But He was, He is always, gracious and compassionate and giving. He gives more than we can ask or think.”
Standing, Blanche put an arm around Effie and then Ike. “I had no idea why God brought me to this boat. I felt so alone. But when Effie came back to the Lord, He gave me a sister…” She squeezed Effie’s shoulder as she said the words. “And then a father.” She sniffed back a tear. “And now a brother.”
Ike forced a smile as his heart sank. Her brother?
“The family of God,” Effie said.
“Adopted by the Father and coheirs with Christ. This does call for a celebration.” She sat back down and ate the muffin in tiny bites. “Do you have a Bible?”
“I found a Bible in Old Obie’s cabin. I thought I could borrow it, if you don’t mind.”
Blanche nodded. “That’s a good idea. Effie and I are studying the Bible together at n
ight, some basic information new believers need to know. Do you want to join us?”
“An instruction course in how to be a Christian?”
“Nothing that fancy.” Blanche laughed. “But a lot of people get bogged down if they start in Genesis and try to read through the Bible. Or maybe you should meet with Mr. Sanders.”
“Or both?” He grinned.
“Good idea.”
They finished the muffins and polished off the pitcher of coffee. Effie stacked their plates and headed for the kitchen. “What do you think about holding a service this evening, thanking God for bringing us safely through the storm?”
“Of course.” Blanche giggled. “And Ike, you’ll even want to come.”
“Amen.” Ike used his best actor’s voice. With a chuckle, he said, “Can you believe it?”
“I’ll get together with Reverend Sanders then.” Effie stood. “And I have some ideas for a new play that I want to think about.”
“My little sister.” Ike shook his head. “You are amazing.” He offered his arm to Blanche. “Shall we?”
Blanche leaned on his arm as they walked out of the dining salon. “I want to check on Captain Pettigrew first. And we need to come up with a schedule to pilot the boat until we arrive in Brownsville.” She paused, her hand on his arm holding him back. “Do you think I’m ready to take the test for my pilot’s license?”
Ike threw back his head and laughed. “I’d say anybody who brought the boat through that storm already passed the real test. You’re more than ready.”
“I want to arrange for it as soon as possible then. Captain Pettigrew can’t work until his arm heals. We’re back where we were before we hired him. We need another pilot.”
“We’ll have to stop at night until we take care of that.” Ike nodded. “I’ve thought of that. It’s a good thing we’re only a couple of days away from the mouth of the river.”
The sling on Pettigrew’s arm couldn’t hide his pain. “I’m sorry to leave you in a lurch.”
“And I feel terrible about your broken arm.” Blanche took the chair next to the berth.
“Don’t worry about that.” With his good arm, Pettigrew waved away her concern. “God will work it all out.”
“For both of us.” After they said their good-byes, Ike and Blanche stopped by each cabin. The furniture had been tossed about, but nothing had broken except a few cracked lanterns, and no one was injured.
Ike made a mental list of needed repairs below deck. “I’ve seen a lot worse damage in other storms.”
He glanced at Blanche, and they spoke at the same time. “God.”
Next they headed for the main deck. Fresh cedar scent washed through the air, carrying a refreshing after-rain smell. Blanche drew a deep breath. “I bet the earth smelled like this after the flood.”
“And required a lot more cleanup.” Ike took her hand and led her toward the cargo hold. A mixed mess greeted them. Most of the heavy crates, tied in place with heavy rope, hadn’t budged, but the wind had moved some of the empty pallets. Water stained heavy burlap sacks of flour, sugar, and cornmeal.
“Can we salvage the flour?” Wheat flour didn’t grow easily in Texas. Of the different consumables, it was worth the most money.
“I… doubt it.” She lowered her face and closed her eyes as if in prayer.
Ike also sent up a silent prayer. He supposed God could listen to more than one prayer at a time. Add that question to the list of things he didn’t know.
Opening her eyes, Blanche took a resolute step forward. “We’ll get someone up here to get a count. Let’s see what other damage we’re faced with.”
A couple of the smaller crates had broken open, but the straw packing had protected most of it. “The foreman can check the number of crates, but it doesn’t look like we’ve lost much. I think the foodstuff is the worst of it.” Grimacing, he shrugged his shoulders. “It could be worse.” A night or two of cards with Ventura and his friends would make up the difference.
“Thinking about the gambling you gave up?”
Could she read his mind? “I wish I could say no. I don’t have a handle on this faith thing.”
“None of us do. Even Paul said, ‘Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect.’ And Paul had more faith than anyone else in the entire New Testament.” She gave a shaky laugh. “So what if we don’t have hot bread for a few days? And besides, the plays are bringing in more money than we expected.” Turning, she looked Ike straight in the eyes. “Being a Christian doesn’t mean everything is easy. But it does mean God is with us through everything that happens.”
Ike thought about that. No one could call Blanche’s life easy, but her faith in God grew stronger with each challenge. “It will be interesting to hear what everyone has to say at the service tonight. I’m sure we’ll hear some tall tales.”
Blanche enjoyed listening to the testimonies. More than any time since she had arrived aboard the Cordelia, she felt at ease with the members of her crew.
The stories varied from childhood memories of running to her father’s lap when she was a little girl—a surprising revelation from the imposing Dame Agatha—to playing baseball during a rainstorm when lightning hit the field—an equally surprising revelation by Smithers.
After everyone who wanted to had shared—only one extremely shy server and a couple of the gruffer stevedores demurred—Ike rose to his feet. “I had a life-changing experience during this storm.”
He glanced at Blanche, and she nodded, smiling to encourage him to go forward. He looked handsome as always, dressed in his beige linen suit, a gold brocade vest, and an olive green shirt. Perfect match with his bright blue eyes. Yesterday she had called him her brother, but if she was honest with herself, the feelings growing in heart differed from those for a brother.
“When the storm started last night, I prayed for the first time in a long time. I’m not sure why.” Shrugging a single shoulder, he flashed that amazing grin. “Those of you who have been with us on the river for a while know we have these storms from time to time. And I haven’t prayed before. But yesterday I did.
“And then I realized that if I trusted God enough to ask Him to save us from the storm, I could trust Him with the rest of my life. And so I did. I asked Jesus to be my Savior.”
“Praise the Lawd,” Reverend Sanders called out. Around the circle, several people clapped and others added a quiet “amen.” Some of the engineers and stevedores exchanged covert looks, probably wondering how life aboard the Cordelia would change.
“And I guess… that’s all.” He bowed to another burst of spontaneous applause and sat down.
“I’ll share next.” Effie rose to her feet with a quiet rustle of fabric. “When the storm kept raging and it became clear we wouldn’t get much sleep last night, I made my way to the dining salon. When I felt bad when I was a little girl, I played the piano. I still do.” She walked in the direction of the piano. “So last night, I remembered a hymn I heard at a revival service about a year ago.” She sat on the stool and began to sing “It Is Well with my Soul.” When she reached the chorus, Blanche added the echoing “It is well” in the alto voice, to Effie’s strong soprano. Her heart beat strong. It is well with my soul. They sang all three verses, ending with the resounding excitement of “Haste the day when my faith shall be sight.” They’d have to teach Ike one of the men’s parts and sing it at their next Sunday service.
After the resounding amen at the end of the hymn, Effie turned around on the piano stool. “I knew it was a special song as soon as I heard it, but the story is even better. Horatio Spafford had already suffered the loss of a son and of a fortune when his four daughters died in a shipwreck. Only his wife survived. When he said ‘when sorrows like sea billows roll,’ he was speaking the literal truth.” Lowering her head, she dabbed at her eyes. “I have to confess I couldn’t have said ‘it is well with my soul’ or written such beautiful music after I lost my parents, or after Captain Lamar died. But th
is man did. So last night, while the thunder continued crashing and crates rattled around overhead, I sang Mr. Spafford’s song. It is well with my soul, because God is always with me. In the worst storm or on the hottest summer day. In the dining salon or aboard Noah’s ark.” Twirling the piano seat back to the correct position, Effie made her way back to the congregation.
The crew turned their attention to Blanche. This part of her inheritance still caught her in unexpected ways. Nothing in her life had prepared her to lead a company, but she enjoyed it more than she thought she would.
The closest thing in her past was singing in front of an audience, but it didn’t feel the same. The people waiting before her were both employees and her new family, people to whom she was bound by cords of responsibility, concern, and affection. She looked around the room, engaging each pair of eyes for a brief second before moving on. “After everything that’s been said, I don’t have much to add. I love that hymn. It is well with my soul. I didn’t know if I would ever feel that way again after my mother died. I was scared when I first arrived onboard. I didn’t know anyone. Even worse, I didn’t know if I could trust anyone. But God.” To her surprise, tears clogged her throat, and she coughed to clear her throat.
“But God had other plans.” Blanche reviewed some of the highlights of her time aboard the Cordelia. She found something to say about everyone, although Ike dominated her thoughts.
“Now I hope to become an official pilot. For as long as God permits us to make a living, I look forward to life aboard the Cordelia.” She sat down amidst enthusiastic applause, and realized she had announced a decision that she wasn’t consciously aware she had reached.
Everything was well with her soul, aboard the steamboat Cordelia.
God was good.
CHAPTER 34
One month later
Blanche sat next to Effie at the piano, making a stab at noting the melodies from the new musical on music graph paper.
The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier Page 38
