Brogan explained, more softly, “Would you enjoy a lesson on manning the Yankee Heart’s helm this evening?”
“Oh! Why, yes. I think I should enjoy that very much,” she answered within seconds, much to the delight of his impatient heart and with a radiant smile that had the blood pumping a little more freely through his veins.
He led her to where he had left Drew with Warrick and returned to the business of captaining his ship. He thought of her all day, envisioning the moment he would have Lorena’s attentions all to himself.
Fortunately, this cruise was not a demanding one requiring his constant focus, for Brogan found he spent many a moment that day staring out to sea.
By nightfall, however, he’d managed to harness his energies and employ them in entertaining Drew. After their Bible reading, they took turns at a game of draughts. Drew giggled himself silly when the pieces slid off the board with a heavy roll of the ship, and on that occasion it was the lad’s assignment to locate and collect them. Later, they played hide the thimble. Lorena covered Drew’s eyes with her hands while Brogan hid the thimble somewhere within the great cabin. Drew searched, aided by hints of “you are hot” or “you are freezing.”
They played until Drew collapsed from exhaustion, and then Brogan carried him to bed. He was asleep before Lorena had finished tucking him in.
That done, Brogan smiled down on her, anticipating the night ahead and offered his hand to escort her on deck.
They sailed under a clear dark sky. Brogan found the wind stronger and the air crisper since he’d last stepped outside. It whistled through the rigging. Yards creaked. A slatting sail blew against the mizzenmast, where sailor John Bowne stood watch.
Brogan invited Lorena to ascend the companionway ladder to the quarterdeck before him. There stood a man at the wheel wearing a checkered shirt with a blue bandanna tied around his head. Brogan called out to him as they approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Fletcher. How is she headed?”
“Evening, Captain. She’s headed right on her course, sir. West, southwest by west.”
Lorena was introduced to the broad, rugged quartermaster.
“Avast your stand here,” Brogan commanded. “I have a desire to take the wheel myself tonight. Break for an hour and then you may return and resume the rest of your watch.”
“An hour, sir?”
“Aye.” Brogan took one spoke into the clutches of his strong hand. “Have you supped yet, Mr. Fletcher? Go forward and sample Mr. Mott’s fine fare for this evening. Do as you please. Mr. Smith will give you no complaint for your idleness. He knows I have taken command of the wheel and have granted you leave. Though you may remind him I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Aye, Captain. Thank you. I’ll tell him, sir.”
Lorena watched with rising anticipation as Brogan took full possession of the wheel, honored by his invitation to stand at the helm of his ship. He trained his eyes across the Yankee Heart’s vast length, where Lorena followed his gaze to the black sea. Even beneath the moon’s reflection, she could detect movement only when a whitecap broke the surface.
“Be sure to take firm grasp of the spokes, for there’s a good breeze and quite a sea running.” He made way for her to stand before him at the wheel.
At her hesitation he urged, “Where’s my willing helmsman, eh? Come, Lorena, take the wheel.”
“Are you quite serious? Do you intend I should turn it by myself?” Chin held high, she shored up the corners of her mouth in a pretty, though incredulous, grin.
“You doubt your abilities?” He gave her a knowing wink. “‘Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, and are driven of fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth.’ Come, be my small helm. I find the wheel easily steered. And I shall man it with you, my hands alongside yours, standing behind you the whole while.”
Lorena cast a discerning eye over him. “You know your verses better than you let on, sir. That was the book of James.”
“Well, you’ve no argument with James, have you? It’s possible for the mightiest to be moved by even the most humble. If Drew were awake, he’d remind you of the story of David and Goliath.”
The night wind blew brisk, yet Lorena felt no chill, only a sense of refuge and peace with Brogan at her back, an acute awareness of his arms surrounding her, legs braced solidly on deck. She brought her hands to the spokes beside his and held on, waiting for direction.
A great swell raised the stern under their feet. It sent the bow plunging into a towering crest, and as the huge wave continued to roll beneath the Yankee Heart, it sent the ship listing to larboard. Brogan pulled upward on a spoke as they held it together, then guided her right hand to an upper spoke and, closing his fingers over hers, instructed, “Now we heave right.”