Threads of Faith Read online

  Once satisfied that the bones were aligned, Dr. Morrison splinted their patient’s leg. “That’s all we can do for now.”

  Exhaustion weighed heavily on Julianna’s limbs. She collapsed on the cabin floor. It was then she noticed that the storm had quieted. The ship steadied. It appeared that Mr. Whitley wasn’t the only survivor in the room.

  CHAPTER 6

  T HE STORM PASSED, and Julianna spent the next day helping Dr. Morrison with both his patient and righting his office. That evening Mr. Kidwell escorted her back to her jail cell, where she remained for another two days. Both the cabin boy, Jimmy, and Mr. Kidwell brought up her meals, and Mr. Kidwell often sat and conversed with her or read aloud from a book while she ate. Julianna supposed she liked him all right. He seemed like a kind-hearted fellow, until it came to dealing with men like the Grisly Devil—and a good thing for her too.

  “I’ve got plans to cross America and settle in the untamed west,” he said one night.

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “It will be.”

  She gave Mr. Kidwell a polite smile. She didn’t mind listening to the man’s dreams. After all, he had saved her life. It was the least she could do. Besides, his conversation and the tales he read to her helped to pass the time.

  “I see you’re finished eating.” Mr. Kidwell rose from where he’d been sitting in one of the captain’s black leather chairs. “I’ll take your supper tray back to the galley.”

  “You’re most kind, Mr. Kidwell. Thank you.”

  “Call me Jeremy.” He gave her a smile and purposely caught her gaze. “It’s my given name.”

  “It’s a fine one.” With a measure of uncertainty Julianna held out the tray to him. He accepted it. He’d left the cell door open, an indication that he trusted her, and Julianna was most grateful for it.

  “Are you ready to listen to me read?”

  “Sure.”

  “All right, then. I’ll drop off your tray in the galley, fetch my book, and be back.”

  He left, and Julianna strode to her berth and sat down, leaning her back up against the cold brick wall. If she wasn’t mistaken, Mr. Kidwell—Jeremy—was beginning to take a shine to her. She could see it in his face, the way his eyes darkened whenever she spoke, and how his gaze lingered on her mouth when she replied. The very idea caused her insides to knot with trepidation. Anytime a man had been interested in her, they’d had nothing but lasciviousness on their minds.

  Would Jeremy be different from the others?

  Captain Sundberg entered the cabin and proceeded to shrug out of his impressive blue jacket with all its brass trimmings. Since setting out to sea, he and the rest of his crew didn’t bother with a razor, so now a reddish-brown beard shadowed the captain’s jaw and chin. The same colored mustache covered his upper lip. If the captain looked ruggedly handsome before, he was tenfold now.

  He glanced her way and caught her gaze. Julianna quickly ducked her head, hoping she hadn’t been caught ogling the captain like some floozy. Although, if he was like most men, he enjoyed women’s appreciative stares. Perhaps the captain even expected them.

  “Why is this cell door open?”

  Julianna quickly lifted her head. “Oh, Jeremy left it open. He’s coming back with a storybook.”

  “Jeremy, is it?” The captain slammed shut the jail door with more force than seemed necessary.

  Julianna jumped up from the bunk. “Sir, surely you know by now that I’m not a danger to you or anyone else.”

  “Miss Wayland,” he began in a mocking tone that she was beginning to detest, “I have left explicit orders that you’re to be locked behind bars at all times. Your recuperation and duty in the infirmary were exceptions, of course. Nevertheless, I will not abide my instruction being ignored.”

  “As I said, Captain, Jeremy is coming back. I’m sure he didn’t mean to—”

  “Miss Wayland, I have more than fifty men onboard this ship. Many I’ve employed before, and I trust them. But others, I suspect, are as uncouth and abusive as Mr. Griswald. Therefore, my insisting your cell door be kept locked at all times is more for your protection than mine or my crew.”

  At his implication Julianna felt the blood seep from her face. “I understand, Captain, and from now on I’ll make sure your orders are followed.”

  His blue eyes searched her face before he answered with a curt dip of his head. Turning, he made long-legged strides toward his quarters. Julianna set her head against the cold iron bars. How grateful she was for this man’s protection.

  Minutes later Jeremy returned with a leather-bound volume under his arm. “I purchased a collection of Hans Christian Andersen’s work. I’ll read ‘The Great Sea Serpent’ to you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I’d like to hear about sea serpents.”

  “Sure you would. This is a wonderful story. I’ve read it before.” He stared at the closed jail cell door, only just now realizing it had been shut. His brow furrowed.

  “The captain’s here,” Julianna whispered. She pointed toward his quarters.

  “Ah . . . ” Jeremy looked hesitant, glanced over one broad shoulder, then shrugged. “Shall I begin?”

  “If you insist.” Julianna strolled to her berth and sat down.

  Jeremy lowered himself onto the floor and leaned against the cell door. Opening the book, he began to read. “‘There was a little fish—a salt-water fish—of good family: I don’t recall the name— you will have to get that from the learned people.’”

  He read on. But when he reached a part in the story where the little fish finds a woman and her child dead in a sunken ship, Julianna halted him. “I can’t bear it. I’ll have nightmares, for pity’s sake!” She shuddered and thought of that terrible storm a couple of days ago.

  “But the dead woman and child are symbolic. Keep listening.”

  She groaned. From the corner of her eye Julianna glimpsed the captain standing in the doorway of his private quarters with his arms folded across his broad chest. She guessed that he’d paused in his undressing because his shirt had been partially unbuttoned and one side lay open, revealing a mat of hair that matched his beard.

  But how could she notice such things? Julianna tore her gaze away, and an odd feeling betwixt a chill and a wave of heat stole over her.

  Jeremy continued with his story, and she forced herself to pay attention. At last she got the gist of the tale.

  “So it’s a telegraph cable that has all these fish in a tizzy? What absurd, little fish.”

  “You’re missing the point, Miss Wayland. Please, allow me to finish.”

  She released an audible sigh before catching the captain’s grin. A pity those dimples were hidden by his whiskers now.

  Finally Jeremy read the end of the story. “‘Men’s thoughts in all languages course through it noiselessly. “The serpent of science for good and evil, Midgard’s snake, the most wonderful of all the ocean’s wonders, our—GREAT SEA-SERPENT!”’”

  Julianna yawned.

  “Which reminds me”—Captain Sundberg unfolded his muscular arms and straightened—“I must send a wire when we reach New York.”

  Jeremy’s expression said he wasn’t amused. “That’s not the point, sir. Our modern technology and conveniences are far-reaching, from mountaintops to the ocean depths.”

  “Why not say so plainly? Besides, Kidwell, there’s no such thing as mermaids.”

  Julianna stared at the captain. Was he goading the poor man?

  “It’s a fairy tale, sir.” Exasperation waxed thick in Jeremy’s voice.

  “Well, just so you know,” Julianna put in, “real or not, referring to her as a sea cow is most insulting. No woman wants a man to call her a cow. I don’t care if she’s a mermaid or a chamber maid.”

  After casting her a curious glance, the captain dropped his head back and laughed so that his shoulders shook. The deep, rich timbre of his hah, hah chuckles reverberated like welcomed thunder after a long, dry spell.

  Jeremy grinned.


  Julianna bristled. “I don’t think it’s so funny.”

  “Miss Wayland”—the captain gave her a bow—“you have lifted my spirits with your candid opinions.”

  “I’m glad you find them so amusing,” she quipped. “A lady doesn’t like being laughed at either.”

  “No insult intended. Right, Kidwell?”

  Jeremy hastened to wipe the smile off his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Right, Captain.” He tucked his book under his arm. “I should be on my way.” He turned. “Good night, Miss Wayland.”

  She leveled a gaze at both of them for having fun at her expense.

  Jeremy almost ran from the room.

  The captain chuckled again. “He’ll take on a brute like Griswald, but a stern look from the woman he cares about sends him running away like a frightened boy.” Captain Sundberg folded his arms again, a grin lingering on his lips. “Do you scare off all your suitors, Miss Wayland?”

  “I can’t really say.” She squared her shoulders, wondering if she’d really scared Jeremy. “I never had a proper suitor before.”

  “Ah . . . ” He sniffed, but the twinkle in his eye never dimmed.

  Julianna had to admit she liked seeing amusement dance in his blue eyes. “I never cared for being the butt of any jokes.”

  “My apologies, although I wasn’t laughing at you.”

  Was he serious? Julianna tipped her head, scrutinizing his expression. Or was he goading her too?

  Either way, it wasn’t like she could do anything about it. She returned to her berth and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. Without another word the captain extinguished the lamps, entered his quarters, and closed the door behind him.

  Julianna lay in the darkness, wondering about him. Handsome as the day was long—and the days certainly were long on the ship.

  But soon the voyage would end. She was headed for America!

  The idea still stunned Julianna.

  More thoughts crowded in. What would she do when she arrived in a new country? Where would she go? For whom would she end up working?

  Julianna’s mind flitted to Jeremy. His romantic interest in her was obvious, and she was grateful to the man for rescuing her from Griswald’s clutches. She always would be. But the idea of marrying him, if things escalated to that point, frightened her. She’d seen the poundings several sailors gave Flora. Twice Julianna had gotten in the middle of such frays and had gotten pummeled herself. Fortunately nothing worse had befallen her.

  Sailors. They were scoundrels, every one!

  Would Jeremy be that sort as a husband?

  Would the captain?

  Julianna shook herself, wondering how Captain Sundberg had suddenly entered the equation.

  Around her sounds of the ship groaning and straining indicated its perseverance across the sea. Waves licked at the outer side of her cell, and Julianna pushed away thoughts of Jeremy’s story about the dead woman and her child pickled inside a sunken vessel. Instead she allowed herself a moment’s wonder about the kind of woman the captain would pursue.

  She’d be a beauty, that’s for certain, and one with a proper upbringing. She’d be educated and well-read so she could banter with him over those silly stories about telegraph cables and little fish. And the captain? Julianna imagined he’d treat his woman with a gentle hand. Some men did, she supposed. Perhaps once sailors became captains, they lost some of their fiery temperament. She hoped so—for the sake of that woman fortunate enough to win the captain’s heart, of course.

  Daniel couldn’t sleep. Why, he couldn’t figure. He was physically tired enough, but thoughts of Kidwell courting Miss Wayland in her jail cell irked him beyond measure.

  Turning, he plumped his down-filled pillow and tried to get comfortable. He shouldn’t allow such a trivial thing to bother him. After all, Kidwell might be the answer to his question of what to do with Miss Wayland once they reached New York. He could instruct Dinsmore to dock Kidwell’s pay and apply it to Miss Wayland’s passage. That would set the books straight and ensure Miss Wayland possessed the right paperwork. He supposed Kidwell would make an adequate husband for Miss Wayland—

  That is, if he intended to marry her.

  With an irritable groan Daniel rolled onto his back again. He shouldn’t care, but he did. The young lady deserved a decent chance at life. She had already lived an arduous existence with loveless caretakers and then on London’s streets. She’d watched her sister’s fall to ruin, fearing it was only a matter of time before the same thing happened to her. She was vulnerable. She needed a man’s protection.

  Fine, but why did he feel so blasted responsible to provide it? He certainly wasn’t about to marry her.

  Thoughts of a pale-skinned countess flitted across his mind. He could still feel Reagan’s voluptuous body pressed against his as they danced at the spring ball. And her kiss—Daniel had enjoyed it. He grinned into the darkness of his quarters. George would be pleased to know that he intended to marry Reagan, although Daniel had not officially proposed marriage yet. After all, she was only eight months into mourning her late husband’s death, not that she’d ever loved the man. It had been an arranged marriage, and the earl had been an elderly fellow. Reagan said she was ready to marry a man her own age and enjoy the pleasures of matrimony at long last. Then she’d kissed him again, whispering that Daniel was “the one.”

  His smile grew. Once they were wed, Ramsey Enterprises would merge with one of England’s largest merchant fleets, a company Reagan inherited from her late father. The merger would produce more wealth than Daniel could imagine.

  But love?

  He grunted out a laugh. Love. Such a useless sentiment. Whoever got rich falling in love?

  As for Kidwell, he would learn that soon enough, after he nursed his broken heart. In the meantime he was succumbing, the fool. Julianna didn’t love him. Probably never would. She needed guidance and direction, yet soft words and a gentle hand—and Kidwell didn’t seem like the sort to deliver.

  Oh, but why should I care?

  With an irritable sigh Daniel rolled again, this time onto his other side. His future was mapped out with the best-laid plans that his and George Ramsey’s vast experience offered, so he’d best annihilate thoughts and concerns of Miss Wayland soon—now!

  CHAPTER 7

  C APTAIN, WOULD YOU possibly have a Bible that I can borrow?” Daniel paused in midstride. “A . . . Bible?” He turned to stare at Miss Wayland. After more than a week since Griswald’s beating, she began looking more like the pretty maid Daniel recalled seeing at Tolbert’s spring affair—which proved more of a distraction to Daniel. Earlier as she’d brushed out her mahogany tresses, he’d barely been able to concentrate on his daily log.

  “Yes, a Bible. You see, Dr. Morrison mentioned something about God knowing everything and about His being able to protect people. Well . . . ” A mix of sorrow and terror rounded her smoky eyes. “I can’t help thinking about the story Jeremy read. The one where the woman and her child were—”

  “Yes, I know the one to which you’re referring.” Daniel quelled the impatient sigh making its way out of his throat. Miss Wayland had only mentioned this matter three or four times already. Obviously that part of the tale had disturbed her. “Miss Wayland . . . ” He stepped in her direction. “You must realize that Hans Christian Andersen’s story was a product of his imagination, and interpretation of it varies.”

  “But ships can really sink.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Daniel gave her a confident grin. “If you’re worried about this vessel, I can tell you she’s seaworthy, and I have a capable crew onboard.”

  “But what if God decides to sink her like a stone?” Miss Wayland clutched the cell bars on either side of her oval-shaped face. “What then, Captain?”

  “Do you know how to swim?”

  She shook her head.

  “Ah . . . well, then, swimming is easy.” Perhaps getting her to think she could learn to survive might quell her
fears. “First, you put your head back as far as you can and allow yourself to float on your back. Like so.” With arms spread out he lolled his head back. “When a wave washes over you, you hold your breath.” Again he demonstrated. “Once it passes, you breathe again.” Daniel righted himself, setting his hands on his hips. “Now you’ve had your first swimming lesson.”

  The pucker in her brow said she wasn’t appeased in the least, and Daniel felt like tossing Kidwell overboard for frightening her with that ridiculous tale.

  He clasped the jail bars, covering Miss Wayland’s hands with his own. How soft and fragile they felt beneath his palms. “We will not go down.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  “I am experienced. I’ve made this run between London and New York City plenty of times without incident. Except for that last storm, we’ve had smooth sailing. I expect the mild weather to hold.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” She rested her forehead in between the bars.

  Daniel resisted the urge to place a kiss on it. “Trust me. Everything will be all right. I promise.” As the last word tumbled from his tongue, a sense of utter powerlessness enveloped him. He had no right to vow such a thing. He had no control over the wind or the waves or life and death.

  Or falling in love . . .

  He shook himself.

  “Thank you, Captain.” She lifted her head. “I feel better now because you’re a man of your word.”

  “That I am.” Dear God, don’t let me be a liar.

  Lifting his hands from hers, Daniel turned on his heel and strode across the office area and into his adjacent chamber. His mind played tricks on him—again. Of course that explained his confounded emotions of late.

  Daniel peered over his shoulder at Julianna. He was keenly aware that his attraction to her might prove his downfall—something George had warned him about over and over. Lust was a trap. Leave the ladies alone, particularly those with little or no means.

  Well, he wasn’t about to jeopardize his future. He had a ship to command—a ship as well as his own life!