Surrender the Heart (28 page)

She’d learned to ignore his insulting quips and constant grumbling and placate him with feigned agreements hidden behind an occasional smile. He was British, after all, and who could argue with a man who
believed he came from a master race destined to rule the world. Mad or not, when he straightened to his full commanding height and raised his voice to its most vociferous capacity, her insides melted in fear. But she’d learned that not soon after such an incident, his shoulders would sink and his voice lower and he would speak to her as if he hadn’t just called her every abominable name he possessed in his vast vocabulary.

Leaning on her knees, Marianne scrubbed the wooden planks of the captain’s floor and thought of her mother and Lizzie. Without Marianne’s marriage or a certificate proving her death, her mother would never be able to touch Marianne’s inheritance. Another year and her beloved family would run out of money to live on. And then what would they do? Marianne’s chest grew heavy. If she had not taken matters into her own hands aboard Noah’s ship, and ended up a prisoner on a British frigate, Noah would have returned her home after his voyage. Now, because of her lack of faith, none of them would ever see home again.

Lord, I’m sorry I didn’t trust You
. Yet with the utterance of the words came the realization that she still didn’t trust God—that she no longer truly knew how to trust anyone.
Please, God, if You’re listening, please help my family
. But her prayer seemed to dissipate into the humid air of the cabin.

The scent of linseed oil and lemons burned her nose. Pain shot into her legs and angled over her back. She grew accustomed to the constant aches, welcomed them, in fact, as punishment for bringing such tragedy upon herself, her family, and her friends. Friends? Could she call Noah, Luke, and Mr. Weller friends? Would they consider her as such? And why, lately, did her thoughts center on the one man who had caused her the most grief—Noah Brenin?

She cringed at the thought that he’d been up all night scrubbing the deck above. And poor Luke, locked in irons below. She must do something to lessen their strict punishments. Yet her attempt to bring up the subject with the captain that morning had resulted in yet another outburst of his fury.

Noah had risked punishment on her behalf. She could not shake
the thought, nor could she imagine why he would do such a thing, when she was the one who had put them all in this horrible situation. The door squeaked open and in walked Daniel, wearing his usual bright smile, torn shirt, and breeches. His hands were tucked behind his back as if he were hiding something from her. His eyes sparked with excitement. “Hello, Miss Marianne!”

Sitting back on her haunches, she returned his smile. “Hello, Daniel.”

“I brought you something.” He swept out his hands and handed her a book.

On closer inspection—a Bible.

Marianne set down the cloth and allowed him to place the holy book on her open palms. She gazed down at it with an affection that surprised her. As a child, she had enjoyed hearing her mother read aloud the wonderful stories it contained. As she grew, she immersed herself in its loving words whenever she needed wisdom or comfort. But, much to her shame, Marianne had not read from the precious book in quite a while—not since her father died. “Is this yours?”

“Yes, miss. But God told me you needed it more than me right now.”

“Oh, indeed?” Marianne laughed. “But I really can’t accept this.”

“You must. Not forever.” He shrugged. “Just until you help rescue me.”

“Oh, Daniel.” Marianne set the book atop one of the padded chairs and began scrubbing again. “I am not so sure you have heard from God. How am I going to help you escape when I can’t even help myself or Mr. Heaton and Mr. Brenin?”

Yanking a cloth from a pile, he dabbed some oil on it and began scrubbing beside her. “It don’t matter, miss. God’ll help you.”

“God help me?” Marianne concentrated her scouring over a particularly stubborn patch of dried dirt. “He has better things to do.” Much better things or He wouldn’t have allowed her father to die, wouldn’t have allowed her mother to become ill and wouldn’t have allowed their family fortune to blow away in the wind.

Or Marianne to get stuck aboard Noah’s ship.

Or her to become a slave to a mad captain.

Halting, she sat back and gazed at the rays of morning sunlight reflecting off Daniel’s dark hair and surrounding him with light as if he were precious to God.

While she remained in the shadows.

“I fear you have the wrong lady, Daniel, I’m just a plain, ordinary woman. I am nobody special. And I won’t do anything important.” She sighed. “I’m terrified of water. I can’t take care of my mother and sister properly, and I can’t even keep a man’s interest long enough so he’ll marry me.”

Daniel snapped the hair from his face and gazed at her forlornly. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but there ain’t nobody ordinary in God’s Kingdom.”

Marianne held up the Bible. “I’m not like the people in here: Moses, Abraham, Elijah, Paul, all great men that God used.”

“And Daniel.” He stopped scrubbing and smiled. “He was a prophet.”

“Yes, he was.” She wiped a smudge of dirt from his face with her thumb and remembered her Bible lesson to the men on board Noah’s ship. Daniel in the lion’s den. “
And that is why we must always have faith, even in the midst of hopeless times.”
She could still hear her voice so full of feigned conviction—a masquerade of the strong woman she longed to be.

“And I am God’s prophet, too. He told me so.” Daniel’s brown eyes sparkled.

Marianne moved to another spot and continued her scrubbing. The boy’s childish innocence warmed her heart. Let him have his dreams, his illusions, his hopes. They were probably the only things keeping him alive on this horrid ship.

“What of Esther?” he asked.

Marianne searched her mind for the story her mother had read to her long ago. Ah yes, the queen. “She was beautiful.” Not like Marianne.

“Rahab?”

The old stories flooded her mind like rays of sunshine on a cloudy day. Rahab was the harlot who hid the spies of Israel so they could
defeat Jericho. Definitely not like Marianne. “She was brave.”

“I know what story is like yours.” Daniel’s eyes widened with delight. “How about Gideon? His clan was the weakest in the tribe of Manasseh, and he was the least in his father’s house. Yet God used him to defeat the Midianites with only three hundred men.”

Shaking her head, Marianne grabbed the bottle of oil and shifted to a fresh spot on the deck. “I know you mean well, Daniel. And I’m sure God has great plans for you. But my life has been fraught with tragedy. I can never seem to rise above the struggles, to conquer them like others stronger than I.” She continued her scrubbing. “I fear God will do what He wills in this world and in my life, and I will always be what I am—a plain, ordinary girl.”

She circled the rag over the wooden planks. Round and round like the monotonous circles of her life until her wrists ached and perspiration beaded on her neck. Tears burned behind her eyes. She could not fathom where they came from or why they appeared. Something about Daniel’s words, his enthusiasm, his faith, tugged upon a yearning in her heart—a longing, beneath her bitterness, to be something more.

He touched her hand, stopping her. “You don’t think God loves you, do you?”

Halting, Marianne drew a deep breath and looked away. She’d never truly considered the question.

Daniel shook his head. Strands of hair hung down his cheek. “Even your name means that God loves you. Marianne, taken from Mary, the mother of our Lord. She was an ordinary girl from an ordinary family. And look how important she was in God’s plan.”

She gazed at him, astounded by his wisdom. But she could not allow these fanciful notions to take root. For if she did, if she started to believe God truly loved her, if she believed she was special and that He had a plan for her life, then the next disappointment, the next tragedy would rob her of her will to go on.

And then she would end up facedown in the Patapsco River like her father.

“Of course, I know God loves everyone.” She shrugged, hoping to shrug away her tears as well, along with the hope that had ignited them.

“You know it up here.” Daniel pointed to his head. “But not in here.” His hand flew to his heart.

Pouring more oil on her cloth, she leaned over and buffed the wood into a shine. “I believe I’m going to heaven, but I expect nothing else from this life.”

“You’ll see that you’re wrong.” Daniel smiled. “When God tells me something it always comes true. He told me a beautiful woman and three men would come on the ship and save me and my da—save me.”

Beautiful woman?
Marianne chuckled. Now she was certain she was not the woman in Daniel’s prophecy. Looking into his hope-filled—no, faith-filled—eyes, she wished with all her heart that she could make his vision come true. But she couldn’t. All she could hope to do was to try to alleviate some of Noah and Luke’s discomfort during their punishments. A glorious thought occurred to her which might be the solution she sought, but she couldn’t do it alone.

She brushed the hair from his face. “Daniel, do you know where Lieutenant Reed is?”

He gave her a perplexed look and glanced out the window. “He may be in the wardroom, miss. He likes to have a cup o’ tea about now. What do you want him for?”

Though Lieutenant Reed’s stiff, portentous exterior would normally dissuade her from seeking him out, the expression on his face last night and the way he shifted his feet uncomfortably when the captain had unleashed his temper led her to believe there may exist a smidgeon of compassion behind his stuffy facade.

“I want to ask his help to lighten the captain’s sentences upon Mr. Brenin and Mr. Heaton.”

Daniel’s exuberance of only a moment ago faded beneath an anxious look. “I doubt he’ll help you, miss. ‘Sides, when the captain issues a punishment, it stands. I ain’t never seen”—his eyes snapped to hers— “Oh, I forgot to give you Mr. Noah’s message.”

“Message?” She ignored the tiny leap of her heart. “When did he give it to you?”

“At supper last night before those sailors stirred up trouble. He asked how you were. Seemed real concerned as to your welfare.”

The statement uttered in such innocent sincerity sent warmth down to her toes. She shook it off, had to shake it off, but it stubbornly remained in light of Noah’s brave appeal to the captain.

Daniel laid his cloth aside and stood. “He wants you to keep your ears open for anything you hear about where the ship is heading or any plans the captain has.”

“He wants me to spy?” she whispered, excitement tingling over her skin.

“Aye, miss.” He glanced out the door. “An’ I can deliver messages back and forth between you.”

Marianne’s mind whirled with the possibilities.

The ship bucked, nearly spilling her bottle of oil. She grabbed it and steadied her stomach against a wave of nausea.

“I ‘ave to be goin’ now,” Daniel said.

Marianne struggled to her feet. “Thank you for your help, Daniel. And for the Bible.”

“My pleasure, miss.” Then, after a friendly wave, he disappeared out the door.

Tossing the cloth aside in favor of a more important task, Marianne left the captain’s cabin and descended one level for the officer’s wardroom. Air, heavy with the smell of tar and damp wood, filled her nose—a not altogether unpleasant scent. Or perhaps she was just growing accustomed to it. Making her way down the companionway, she kept both hands raised, ready to brace herself against the bulkhead should the ship try to knock her from her feet. She couldn’t help but smile at her growing knowledge of the names assigned to parts of the ship—names she had not known a month ago.

Rap rap rap
. She tapped on the open door of the wardroom and put on her best smile for Lieutenant Reed as he glanced up from a steaming cup of tea. His brow furrowed. “Are you lost, Miss Denton?”

“No, sir. May I have a word with you, please?”

He scanned the room, no doubt checking to see if they were alone. Small cabins that were enclosed by little more than stretched canvas on wooden frames, lined either side of the oblong table at which he sat. Officers’ cabins, Marianne surmised. A cupboard at one end held plates, cups, and cutlery as well as a variety of swords, muskets, pistols, and axes.

“Make it quick, miss. You should not be down here.” Lieutenant Reed stood, scraping his chair over the deck. He adjusted his black coat, the three gold buttons on each of his cuffs and one button on each collar glimmering in the light of a lantern that swayed overhead.

She clasped her hands together and took a timid step within. “It is about Mr. Heaton and Mr. Brenin.”

She detected a flinch on his otherwise staunch demeanor. “And?”

“You know as well as I they do not deserve their punishment.”

“It does not matter what I know or don’t know.” He snorted and plucked his cocked hat from the table. “All that matters on this ship is what the captain says.”