Brogan strode into their midst to take Lorena’s elbow. “Perhaps we should allow Miss Huntley to retire to her cabin for a rest before dinner.”
He appraised his deck of idle crewmen. “Mr. Smith, see everyone returns to their duties. Let us be quick about changing course and sailing our young miss home. Mr. Mott, I’ll have you break out the finest of Mr. Huntley’s stores, if you please, and prepare us a meal in celebration of Miss Huntley’s safe return.”
As the sailors dispersed to obey orders, he turned to Lorena with a twinkle in his china blue eyes. “And now, Miss Huntley, if you would care to accompany us, a surprise awaits you in your cabin. Is that not right, Drew?”
He hoisted the boy in the air, tossing him playfully while Drew squealed with joy and, through his giggles, answered, “Yeeeeeeessss!”
It was a heartwarming exchange that had Lorena recalling all over again the curious affinity for the boy Brogan had displayed from the first. Memories returned of Brogan’s upset when she’d removed Drew from the supper table to put him to bed, the way Brogan had praised Drew’s skill with a sling even though the weapon had been turned on him, and how subsequently Brogan made certain to include Drew in their plans anytime he came calling for her.
And now, in her absence, the pair seemed to have grown closer still.
How was it so? That an unfettered, childless, widower captain, who’d spent these past few years at sea embroiled in war, showed remarkable tenderness for a boy he barely knew?
What bond had forged between them during the course of their short voyage? It was as if they shared something to which Lorena was not privy. A connection she could not define.
“Lead the way, then, young sailor,” Brogan charged as he set Drew back on his feet.
“Come, Lorena,” the child urged, pulling her aft toward the quarter gallery. “Come see.”
Hand in hand they walked, taking care to keep from getting underfoot of the crew. Drew smiled confidently as he led her about, drawing her attention to particular points of interest. Everywhere seamen moved about the ship. Those sailors who did not have their feet planted firmly on deck hung from a confusion of rigging and sails.
Brogan followed close behind, though at the midship bulkhead he stepped forward to open a door.
Lorena knew well the ship’s plan, but allowed Drew to guide her down a corridor into the great cabin. Here was the grand seagoing parlor just as she remembered, paneled in mahogany and trimmed with the yellowish luster of satinwood. The difference now being the fully furnished compartment, seeing those articles that had been either purchased or commissioned during the weeks the Yankee Heart was being rigged placed in their rightful home, transforming the once cavernous cabin into a comfortable living space as fine as any house built on New England soil.
Lorena skimmed a fingertip across the large mahogany dining table. Damask curtains of willow green dressed the stern windows with matching cushions on the window seats. Daylight reflected off the fresh white paint of the ceiling and the silver lanterns hanging from its beams. There was also a settee and matching wing chairs.
Lorena curled her toes inside her slippers, pressing them deeper into the Brussels carpet. “It’s all so lovely.”
“I could not have expected less.” Brogan’s gaze followed hers around the cabin, the corners of his lips crooked slightly upward in pride. “If you recall, it was you, Lorena, who helped me choose these fabrics and several of the furnishings.”
“How satisfying a surprise to find them all looking so well together. I believe I shall enjoy this cruise very much.”
“This isn’t your surprise,” Drew said with a giggle as though she were quite silly.
“It is not? What else could there be?” Sifting her fingers through the boy’s pale curls, she glanced down at his sweet face with a raised brow. “Truthfully, sweetheart, I do not think anything could make me happier than I feel right now.” In a matter of hours she had gone from despair to a contentment her heart could barely contain.
“Step this way and we’ll show you,” Brogan said, directing her portside to a closed cabin door.
But Lorena’s curiosity was already drawing her to the opposite end of the suite, where ledgers, charts, a divider, and parallel ruler lay sprawled across a large writing table. An old desk held journals and accounts with rolled documents stored carefully inside each pigeonhole. As she moved closer, Lorena inspected a small bookcase. One well-used book in particular caught her eye on a shelf of its own. Thin leather strips wrapped around its worn nut-brown casing, holding the pages together.
“This book. Is this—?”
Brogan grabbed her wrist before she could touch it. This surprised her, for she hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close behind. “Drew has been waiting patiently to show you to your cabin,” he said.