by Diann Hunt
“Awgh!” she wailed before falling back into the pile of clothes on her bed.
Later that evening, family and friends gathered aboard the Courage in a final good-bye celebration. Together they enjoyed a fine feast, and then Adelaide and Josiah stood at the ship’s rail, waving as whaleboats rowed their guests back to shore.
Once the excitement died down, the reality of her recent choices swept over Adelaide, filling her with a sense of melancholy. A quiet settled upon her as she pulled wide the curtain separating her bed from Josiah’s.
Dressed for bed, she situated herself beneath the folds of blankets and quilts. Josiah’s boots thumped against the floor, and she could hear him shrugging out of work clothes. She wished things could be different somehow. Their friendship had changed from the moment Josiah mentioned marriage. Things were now a bit, well, awkward between them. Adelaide took a deep breath and blew out a quick puff of air, snuffing the light from her lantern.
Josiah’s bed shifted as she heard him climb in. He scooted about then blew out his lantern.
Adelaide stared into the darkness. A sense of loneliness filled the tiny room. Heavy waves rocked the hull, but sleep escaped her. She heard Josiah turn restlessly on his bed and wondered if he stared blankly through the darkness, too.
By the next morning, Adelaide’s mood had improved considerably. She dressed quickly and pulled on her cape. When she opened the door, Josiah stood waiting on the other side.
“I thought I’d walk with you to the cookhouse.”
Adelaide smiled and felt pleasure at the protective hand at her elbow, guiding her to her new workstation. The wooden deck sparkled from the cleaning it had received in port. Adelaide secured the top button on her cape against the eastward wind.
Once in the cookhouse, she quickly prepared a breakfast of eggs, coffee, and ham for herself, Josiah, and his mates. Although somewhat out of the ordinary, Josiah allowed the skilled members of his crew, such as the blacksmith and cooper or cask maker, as the position was sometimes called, to also join them in their cabin for meals. Adelaide knew that on most ships, the skilled workers ate after the captain and his mates. Josiah’s kindness softened her heart toward him.
The rest of the crew sat on their sea chests on the main deck and ate the hardtack and ham that Adelaide made for them. They ate below deck only during foul weather.
Breakfast was soon over, and Adelaide watched as the men went to their various posts with the fire of adventure in their eyes.
After she scrubbed the cookhouse clean, she went out on the deck. The Courage set sail down the bay. The old ship groaned as the wind pushed it toward the high seas. Adelaide wanted to take one last look at her homeland before it disappeared with the shoreline.
The moment was bittersweet. She knew she would miss her family and her town, but as the wind filled the sails, excitement shot through her. She was living her dream.
As she made her way to the rail, sailors nodded cordial greetings, granting her the appropriate respect as befit a captain’s wife. Adelaide edged closer to the rail to get a better view. Just then a sailor stepped in front of her. Deep lines rutted his forehead. Spiked whiskers poked through his jaw, reminding Adelaide of pins on a cushion.
“You want to be careful not to get too close to the ship’s rail, ma’am,” he said with a smile, revealing rotted teeth. He tipped his cap in a mock gesture that made Adelaide’s skin crawl. No doubt the man had made his way through life bullying others. It was probably the only life he had ever known. She knew she couldn’t show her fear, or she’d be miserable the rest of the journey. They had to serve on the ship together, and he needed to know up front where she stood. God’s love softened her fear, and compassion filled her.
Without a blink, her gaze fixed on his threatening one. “Why, I thank you kindly for your concern, Mister—”
His eyes narrowed. Adelaide felt quite delighted that she seemed to have caught him off guard. “Ebenezer. The name’s Ebenezer,” he growled before stepping aside from her path and moving on his way.
Adelaide stared after him for a moment to let him know she was not frightened in the least. Which, of course, was not true. Underneath her clothing, her legs trembled. She waited until he edged away at a comfortable distance then turned her eyes toward the sea.
I thank Thee, Father, for helping me in that situation. Please help Ebenezer to know Thee as well. Amen.
She lifted her face to the sky and took a deep gulp of the fresh sea air. Sometimes the strong smell of fish overpowered the docks, but out on the sea, the air held the tangy scent of salt.
Pa, if only you could see me now. I think it would please you to find me on a whaling ship. I can’t wait to experience all the excitement you shared with me as a child. Your stories built dreams in me, Pa. This is a whole new world. A world alive with color, activity … and loneliness.
Where had that thought come from? She hadn’t a chance to feel lonely here. Too much work to do. Besides, her pa had taught her to look at the bright side of things, and she did. The sea. She was riding the seas on a whaling ship as the wife of a grand sea captain. How could she complain?
She stood in the warmth of the sunshine and drank in the awesomeness of God, the handiwork of His creation. Her spirit held her steadfast in the warmth of worship.
Josiah caught a glimpse of Adelaide standing at the rail. Her eyes were closed, her face lifted skyward. The sun’s rays sprayed upon her, casting her in an ethereal glow. She looked like an angel. He stood transfixed, watching her. No doubt she was praying. He had heard her whispered prayer the night before. She pored over her Bible with such enthusiasm, as if she couldn’t live without it.
How did people attain such a faith? Though on land he had been a regular attender, church was more of a gathering place for him. He considered himself a good man. Never saw the need to get religion, as some folks put it. Didn’t really have the time. Oh, he gave God the respect He deserved. Being a sea captain, he could do no less. Josiah believed God to be the Creator of the universe. Beyond that, he hadn’t really given much thought to the matter.
Then when he felt folks let him down after Catherine—well, he didn’t want to think about that. Yet watching Adelaide made him wonder. Was there more to it than what he had thought?
“You sure have arranged for a fine cook, Captain.”
Josiah turned with a start to find Adam Bowman standing beside him. “A fine cook and a fine wife, Bowman.” Josiah didn’t smile. His own actions made him even more cross. Why did he feel he had to defend his position with this man like two roosters in a cockfight?
Adam blinked. “Yes sir. Though I don’t think you ‘arranged’ for the wife,” Adam said with lighthearted banter. He seemed oblivious to Josiah’s bitterness.
Josiah cringed inwardly. He knew Adam had no clue of his marriage arrangement—or did he? Could Adelaide have told him?
“Yeah, I’ll say. Mighty fine wife, Captain.” Ebenezer Fallon joined the two men, his eyes filled with challenge.
This man meant trouble, no doubt about it.
“I can only wish the same for you two in the future. Now, we best get back to our posts.”
Adam nodded and hurried away. Ebenezer shot one last glare at the captain then turned away. He took slow, deliberate steps, as if to let the captain know he would do what he wanted when he wanted.
Yes, Ebenezer Fallon spelled trouble.
Chapter 6
The following week, a constant gale from the west tossed the ship around like a ball of yarn between a kitten’s paws. Josiah had to admit he admired Adelaide’s strength. Cloaked in all its treachery, the sea caused even the sturdiest sailors to weaken at times. Yet, although Adelaide suffered with seasickness, she didn’t complain. She continued to cook for the crew, ate nothing herself, then scurried to their cabin for relief. Josiah found her amazing. His own experience had told him women reveled in complaining, so he found himself puzzled by her.
When finished with his review of the l
ogbook, Josiah snapped it shut, yawned, and stretched.
Since it was only a few weeks from Christmas, his thoughts went to the scrimshaw upon which he had been working. He hoped Adelaide would like the jagging wheels he had carved for her. Now she could crimp her piecrusts with no problem. He’d like to make her a rolling pin later. With a shrug, he told himself, after all, she was his wife; he needed to give her something.
A nagging thought agitated him. Maybe he should have purchased a gift from a store, something a little more feminine. Catherine had always complained he never understood women. Perhaps she was right. He found whales more predictable. Staring at the sea, he allowed his thoughts to continue. Even now, the Courage steered toward Verdade, South America, but he hadn’t planned to pull into port. They had whales to catch, and so far only a few cries of “There she blows” had called from the masthead, with little hope of a catch up to now.
Josiah gazed at the rising sun. Looking at the sea, he found it hard to remember its anger of the past days. He hoped Adelaide would soon adjust to this new life.
“Good morning, Josiah.” Adelaide’s soft voice broke through his musings. He turned to her and nodded as she joined him at the railing.
“You’re looking much better this morning,” he said with more softness than he’d intended.
“Thank you. I’m quite better.” A slight breeze pulled a strand of hair loose from her pins and brushed it against her cheek. Adelaide tucked it back into her bonnet.
“Good.” Josiah cast Adelaide a sideways glance. Her dark brown eyes reminded him of the rich, deep soil of a freshly tilled meadow; her creamy skin, the silk of a cornstalk. A nice change from what he usually saw on his ship.
A noise shook him from his foolishness. He turned to see a chicken strutting and clucking behind them.
Adelaide laughed. “I feel right at home seeing the pigs and chickens running around the deck.”
“They are a lively bunch,” Josiah said with a grin. “Guess they don’t know they’ll be supper one day.”
She laughed.
The sound made him feel lighter somehow. “You’re doing a great job with the meals, Adelaide.”
She turned a surprised look to him. “Thank you.” Her eyelids lowered and a pink flush fanned her cheeks.
“Good morning, Adelaide. Captain.” Adam Bowman greeted them with a smile.
Josiah stiffened. “Bowman,” he returned, his voice hard and formal.
If Adam Bowman noticed the change in the captain, he didn’t let on. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” he continued with a pleasant smile. Before anyone could respond, he turned to Adelaide. “I haven’t seen you around except at mealtime, Addie. You been feeling poorly?”
Oh, this man irritated Josiah. Still, Bowman stood there smiling as if he hadn’t a clue of the captain’s feelings. Not only did Josiah not like the man’s cordial ways, but Josiah clearly did not like Bowman’s familiar tone with Adelaide. Calling her Addie should be reserved for those closest to her. A thought struck him. Was Bowman close to her? Adelaide said he was a friend of the family. Perhaps he had called on Adelaide, but her love for the sea had won out. His stomach knotted up like a rusty chain, and he was completely puzzled as to why.
“Bowman, you would do well to remember your place,” Josiah rushed in. “You will address her as Mrs. Buchanan like every other crewman.”
Adam looked chagrined. “Sorry, Captain. I forget that—”
“It’s all right, Adam. Josiah—I mean, Captain Buchanan just wants to keep order—”
“I understand,” he managed. Embarrassment flamed his face.
The softness in her voice toward this man caused Josiah’s blood to boil like blubber in a try-pot. She is my wife, after all. His breath turned quick and shallow as he attempted to calm his anger. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.
Adelaide looked at each man briefly. A slight shadow crossed her face. “I’d better get started on the meal.” The softness of her words, her calming ways, turned Josiah’s stomach upside down more than the roughest of gales. Frustration ran through him. Despite the fact theirs was a marriage of convenience, Adelaide was still his wife, and Adam Bowman would do well to remember his place.
Josiah turned and walked away. “I can’t let that woman make me soft,” he muttered under his breath. Chickens clucked and piglets squealed to get out of his path as his boots stomped hard across the rough planks.
Adelaide diced through the vegetables with a little more force than necessary. She couldn’t understand Josiah’s harsh treatment of Adam. Something told her Adam could one day be a member of their family, judging by the way he talked about her sister. Adelaide wanted Josiah and Adam to get along. Of course, Josiah didn’t think of her in that way. Would he ever feel like a part of her family? What did the future hold for them?
The knife sliced into the potato, but before Adelaide realized it, she nicked the tip of her finger. “Oh!” She grabbed her hand.
“Are you all right?” Behind her, Josiah grabbed a cloth and dashed to her side. She stood perfectly still while he held her bleeding hand and looked over the cut. He maneuvered the cloth around her finger, winding it tight to stop the bleeding. Once finished, he held her hand in his.
Adelaide wasn’t sure what to do. She felt clumsy and very female for having made such a mistake. Her eyes glanced up. “I’m sorry; I should have—”
“Shh.” His fingertips reached up and touched her lips. He stared into her eyes. “It’s all right.” Allowing his fingers to trail down her cheek, he tilted her face toward him. “I’m sorry you hurt yourself.”
His eyes were so intense and kind. Like the Josiah she had met not so long ago. All sights and sounds drifted away. Her world consisted only of this moment.
Alone with Josiah.
What was happening, she didn’t know. She feared the slightest movement could break the magic. She dared take a slight wisp of a breath. Josiah’s gaze never left her face as he dipped his head toward her, his lips claiming her own. For one brief moment of bliss, Adelaide felt all the pleasures and wonder of a real kiss. Like a shared secret between two people who loved each other from the depths of their souls.
Yet just as quickly as the moment commenced, it stopped. Josiah broke away, his body stiff and professional once again. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. I don’t know what came over me.” He looked down at the floor then back to her. “It won’t happen again.” He turned on his heels and quickly left the cookhouse.
Adelaide stared after him, her trembling fingers tracing where his lips had been. Now that was something she hadn’t seen coming. By the look on Josiah’s face, she figured he hadn’t planned on it either.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about what had happened. She only knew things were definitely changing between them. And where this change would take them, she could only imagine.…
Josiah couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what had possessed him to kiss Adelaide. After he had promised himself he would stay away from her, not allow her to make him go soft, he had betrayed himself and spoiled everything. She would want nothing to do with him now, of that he felt sure.
She came along for an adventure at sea, not a romantic life with him. He shoved his fingers through his hair. He could kick himself.
Admittedly, he’d never met anyone like Adelaide. She was so complex, tougher to understand than most women. Determined, that’s what she was. After all, it took a determined woman to handle life on a ship with a group of crusty whalers. But more than that, she was soft. Like a gentle breeze. Not just her skin, but her ways. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like she possessed a quiet strength from beyond herself.
Josiah raised his hands in frustration and let them drop at his side. Now he was thinking nonsense. A pig snorted at his feet, and Josiah growled at it, sending the poor creature off squealing.
Might as well admit it. You have feelings for her. The thought both surprised and angere
d him. Surprised him because he hadn’t admitted it until now; angered him because he was accustomed to being in control of everything in his life. He felt as though his heart had committed mutiny against his better sense.
Josiah shook off the disturbing thoughts and walked through the ship, checking things, talking here and there with the crew. The men grew restless. Tension mounted daily. They were itching to kill a whale, and he knew it. They’d best find one soon.
Just as Josiah headed downstairs for the cabin to check on Adelaide, Adam’s voice stopped Josiah short. Adam and the man to whom he spoke were hidden from Josiah’s view.
“If I had known how she felt, I wouldn’t be sailing on this ship today. I guess I’ve loved her since the day I met her.” Adam’s voice trailed to silence.
“Her father was Elijah Sanborn?” the other voice asked.
“Yeah, he’s the one.”
Sickness balled up in the pit of Josiah’s stomach. He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He had to get away. Never had the ship seemed so small. Going back on deck, he considered their chart. They would stop at Verdade, most likely arriving near Christmas Day. If the men grumbled, so be it. No matter the cost, he had to get away for a while, away from Adelaide. He needed to think.
Adelaide situated her chair on the ship’s deck. A glorious sun had risen over the waters. Perfect for the Lord’s Day, she thought. She lifted her face to its rays. After a moment of sheer basking in the warmth, she pulled open her Bible and flipped to her reading for the day in Psalm 139. Her heart absorbed what her eyes told her. When she came to verses seven through ten, she stopped and reread the passage:
Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
