She’d made her loyalties clear the day of the launching when she’d walked out of the carpentry shop with that weasel, leaving Brogan with naught but troublesome thoughts. Had she indeed run off, leaving her family to agonize over her welfare? It would not be Brogan’s first experience with a woman’s coldness.
But suppose the family was correct in their belief and something had happened to prevent her from disembarking? What if she’d been harmed?
Under less desperate circumstances, Brogan would have enjoyed a rescue mission. Drew thought it an adventure. What would he think of a father who refused to come to the aid of his mother figure? How could Brogan ever explain such unchivalrous behavior to his son? The boy would never forgive him.
Back and forth he weighed his decision. In saving Lorena, he would be a hero in his son’s eyes. The price, of course, would be to forfeit the opportunity to reclaim his child.
A painful choice. If only there were not so much at stake.
Indecision tormented him well into the evening, which Brogan spent for the first time in the quarters of his new ship. With all he’d accomplished to date, he should have been enjoying the most restful night of his life, but sleep would not come. His internal debate continued, and with nowhere left to turn, Brogan humbled himself to reach for his old ship’s Bible.
He hadn’t opened it in years, but as he untied the laces that held it closed, then pressed his palm upon its cracked leather binding, it came to him, not as a thought in his head but in words transmitted directly to his heart:
“A good man out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things: and an evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things.”
Matthew, chapter twelve, verse thirty-five. Though he’d tucked it away and turned from its teachings, once read, the Bible continued to live inside him.
Brogan gritted his teeth, and the tension in his jaw traveled to his temple, where he experienced a painful throb. Like a child begging for attention, something within this “bad” misbegotten orphan desired acceptance from a God who demanded obedience yet bestowed indifference.
He quit his sleeping cabin and strode the length of the day parlor to a smaller sleeping cabin beyond. With his permission the Huntley clan had transformed the room into a cozy nest for their precious girl. They had dressed the bed with quality bed linens, laid an Oriental rug, and hung a silk brocade drapery over the porthole.
They’d brought her possessions aboard—a trunk of clothing, books, and needlework to keep her occupied. Gifts and notes of endearment from each member of the household had been left with messages that conveyed their love and contained prayers for her swift and safe return.
It was all rather touching, and as Brogan inspected their work, he could not help but realize his defeat. He had deceived himself in believing he ever had a choice in the matter, in believing it could still all go according to his plan. That he, Drew, and Jabez could sail away and happily live out their lives. Oh, the plan was still in place. Nothing had changed, and yet everything was different. Brogan had changed. Changed, here in this quiet Duxborotown.
Brogan added his own gift to the others—a tiny wrapped package.
And now the Yankee Heart awaited, ready to embark on her maiden voyage, a good three days behind the Lady Julia.
Brogan stood with Jabez at the end of the fitting wharf, waiting for the Huntley household to say their good-byes. Word had spread throughout Duxborotown, and a curious crowd had gathered on shore.
Full of smiles, Drew lugged a ditty bag nearly as big as himself.
“What have ye brought there, young lad?” Jabez asked.
Drew attempted to heave the bag over his shoulder. “I have brought my sling. In case of danger I shall be ready to fight. And Captain Briggs must come with me. Captain Briggs knows everything about sailing ships.”
“Aye, a fine sailor,” Brogan agreed. “Briggs is welcome aboard, but you must both understand, there is only one captain aboard the Yankee Heart. What say you, Master Huntley and Seaman Briggs, are you prepared to obey my command?”
The child stuck his finger in his mouth and nodded.
Brogan inclined an ear. “Eh? What is that? I did not hear a proper answer.”
Drew glared, then straightened, removing his finger to say, “Yes, sir.”
Nathaniel Huntley pushed his way forward to stand before him. The shipbuilder eyed Brogan closely. “Are you certain, Captain, that Drew shall not prove a distraction for you? He has the tendency to get underfoot and is prone to asking many questions.”
At Brogan’s side came Drew’s quick intake of breath, followed by a pitiful moan of “nooooo.” He felt the lad’s pudgy hand press against his thigh, Drew’s fingers clawing at his tight-fitting trouser leg as though clinging to Brogan for dear life. Nothing could have pleased him more.