“Carry her as close to the wind as she’ll bear, Mr. Fletcher. Full and by.” Brogan was interrupted by a tapping on his lower thigh and glanced down.
Drew stretched forth his arms, fingers wriggling, begging for the glass. Brogan gloried in the bond of blood between them and felt it to the marrow of his bones. This small, precious child was the only living soul he could rightfully call family, which might easily have him cowing to the lad’s wishes like Nathaniel Huntley was wont to do, except that Brogan was impressed with a responsibility to instill discipline in his son. He snapped the glass closed and returned it to his jacket pocket.
“Is that a proper manner to address your captain, do you suppose?” Brogan spoke next to the doll hanging by Drew’s side. “What say you, Captain Briggs? Does the lad deserve a look in my glass?”
The boy stomped his foot impatiently. “Captain Briggs wants to see.”
“Does he?” Brogan eyed the lad with correction in his gaze. “You forget I am long acquainted with Captain Briggs. Captain Briggs has experience with authority. He follows proper etiquette aboard ship, and he would not make grabbing motions at his commanding officer. He would ask permission in a proper, respectful manner.”
Drew worried his bottom lip, unused to the reproof, confused perhaps, likely even contemplating resistance. Yet when he spoke, it was without his earlier whining tone. “May I have a look in the glass?”
“Did you not hear me use the word respectful?”
“Please, sir. Please, may I have a look? I want to see Lorena.”
“Aye, me too.” Brogan rested his hand affectionately on the crown of Drew’s straw hat. “Soon we’ll draw close enough to that speck of sail out there to know whether she is the one we seek. If Lorena is aboard, then we shall see her before the day is out. If not, then I promise we shall keep searching until she is found. Will you wait here with me, Drew?”
In response, the boy slipped his stubby fingers into Brogan’s much larger hand.
Topmen in the rigging edged to the far end of the yards to loosen sail. The square canvas sheets unfurled with a great rustle. Then came a loud report as they filled with wind. Jabez kept careful watch over the hands, making certain all yards were trimmed to his satisfaction, while Drew absorbed it all with interest.
Brogan took delight in his son’s wonderment. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this lad. He’d sail the seas to fetch back the woman Drew loved as a mother. He’d honor a Father God who had not shown the same compassion to Brogan as a child. But in saving Lorena, was he sacrificing his precious son?
The Yankee Heart gathered way with all good speed, and half an hour later Brogan withdrew his glass once more. This time what appeared in the lens was a two-masted square rigger with a gaff spanker on her mainmast identifying her as a brig.
He helped Drew position the telescope for a look. “Do you see her?”
Drew gasped in delight. “A ship, yes!”
“A brig. With a figurehead. Can you make out what it is?”
“Yes, sir. It is a painted lady.”
“Not just any lady, Drew,” Brogan whispered in his son’s ear. “I do believe that is the Lady Julia.”
“Perhaps not the prettiest day for a walk,” Jane Ellery observed as Lorena strolled with her, arm in arm, “yet I would daresay it is ideal. The sun is not so bright as to blind our eyes or burn our noses, and we have the added entertainment of sighting our first vessel since leaving Plymouth.”
The appearance of another vessel—a reminder to all aboard the Lady Julia that they did not sail the Atlantic alone, along with the break from monotony on their lonely travels—had passengers and crew alike hugging the rails with interest.
Whether due to the pleasant companionship of her friend or because Lorena wore a fresh change of clothing for the first time in a week, she felt herself being swept into the excitement. Just a simple cotton dress, yet it had been tailored to her frame by loving hands, and in it she dared step a little lighter.
Jane’s husband, Thomas, Thomas’s younger brother Matthew, and George escorted them on their walk, keeping several paces behind. Both Thomas and Matthew shared the opinion of the crew—that the approaching vessel carrying the American flag was a fellow merchantman eager to offer a passing hello.
It appeared to be gaining on them with all good speed, and the closer it drew to the Lady Julia, the more agitated George became. At their third turn around the deck he excused himself and hastened up the companionway ladder to the quarterdeck. Lorena watched him engage Captain Winsor in a passionate exchange, whereupon the captain handed George his spyglass.