A slight delay was owing to the fact there’d been no work for the crew the day following the storm. Jabez conducted a memorial service for Gideon Hale on the main deck. Brogan read Scripture aloud, then gave thanks to the Lord for sparing William and for the safe passage of the ship. He prayed for the protection of those still aboard her. Jabez’s music books were pulled off the shelves, Frederick Mott brought out his fiddle, and the crew joined in singing hymns.
Brogan did not push Lorena further for answers about her father’s relationship with Abigail, though instinct assured him she knew more than she was willing to let on. He trusted she had good reason for directing him to her father. Actually he preferred news of Abigail come directly from Huntley. Still, it troubled him, this aura of mystery.
Why did Lorena feel she must hold something back from him? Did she not trust him?
He stood on the Yankee Heart’s quarterdeck under the shadow of darkening heavens. Humidity wavered in the air, blurring the sighting of land with an ashen haze. Brogan raised his telescope, adjusting the lens and bringing into focus the fitting wharf with its outbuildings and then the stately home beyond.
Somewhere inside that large black-and-white Federal house, Nathaniel Huntley awaited. Brogan waited, too. He waited for his questions to be answered, for three years of agonizing speculation to be over. But what harsh realties lay hidden behind the truth of Abigail’s scheme?
Lowering the glass, he snapped it closed. Brogan lifted his hat to swipe his shirtsleeve across his perspiring brow. He could not stave off the apprehension and hardened himself for what lie ahead. He had deceived the shipbuilder and now must confess to him that the man he’d entrusted with the safe return of his daughter had at one time been plotting to abduct another child from his home.
Lorena emerged onto the deck below, catching his eye in a becoming apricot gown. She looked all sweetness and femininity, from her springy head of ginger curls to the toes inside her flat leather sandals.
Glancing upward, she gave him a wave, and Brogan thought never was there a smile more beautiful than that of his beloved.
His heart flooded with love for her; his eyes filled with adoration. She radiated serene elegance, and her goodness cast a glow about her like that of an angel, an angel who had pulled his soul from bitterness.
Mounting the companionway, she joined him on the quarterdeck. Brogan greeted her with a smile and extended his hand. “Come. Stand beside me, where the welcome party ashore can see you.”
She slipped her much smaller hand in his, and he drew her to his side before the rails. The Yankee Heart was drawing attention, and Huntley yard workers and Duxboro townsfolk had now begun to assemble all along the lengthy fitting wharf.
Happiness glittered in her eyes and her smile grew. “Oh, let me fetch Drew. He’ll want to see this, too.”
Brogan detained her with a squeeze of his hand. “In a moment.” Selfish of him perhaps, but he’d had little opportunity to be alone with Lorena and was hungry to steal what moments they could. Especially this moment.
Lorena lifted her gaze to Brogan’s and what she found in his eyes reflected the same uncertainty gnawing at her. She smiled reassuringly. What words could adequately convey her love? What deed? She fully intended to accept his proposal and promise to stand by his side through the worst. She’d do anything for him, but oh—if only she could spare him this. Still, the past must be put to rights before they could move forward with their future. Brogan understood or he wouldn’t have asked her to hold off with her answer.
Lorena held tight to his hand, drawing on his bulwark strength and remembering her faith as she turned her attention to familiar sights on shore.
Soon their feet would touch Duxboro soil, but given recent events, home had taken on quite a different meaning. Home was not so much a location as it was she, Brogan, and Drew being together.
Owning to the shallowness of the Bluefish River and the imposing hull size of the Yankee Heart, soon they could venture no closer to shore. Brogan gave the order to moor the merchantman and lower the boats.
He sat in the stern directly across from her, Drew fidgeting restlessly at her side, and paused before taking up the oars. In his eyes was a look of love and longing.
“You’re nearly home now,” he told them.
“Will you come live with us?” Drew asked.
“We’ll settle all that later. But wherever I do live, I shall always be nearby, and we’ll see each other whenever we like, agreed?”
The child released a breath. “Yes, sir.”
“You promised, remember, not to say anything about me being your father until after I’ve had a chance to speak with your papa Huntley. Do you think you can keep our secret for a bit?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good lad.” Brogan’s grin widened, a grin he quickly turned on Lorena as though seeking her consent. “Ready, then?”
She nodded. “Ready.”