Surrender the Heart (46 page)

“I never change.”

The unassuming statement settled in her mind, joining together abstract events from her past. If that was true, then God had known about—even allowed—all her tragedies. “Why has this happened to me?” Marianne flipped through the pages of the Bible with no destination in mind. The words grew blurry. Her finger brushed over the book of Esther, chapter four. Her mother’s favorite book. Marianne could still picture her mother reading the story to her when she was a little girl. The way her face shone with excitement and her voice nearly sang as she relayed the romantic, adventurous story. The kind of adventure Marianne had come to believe only happened to beautiful, talented ladies. Not someone like her.

She skimmed over the tale, refreshing her memory. Esther, a
common but beautiful girl, became queen of all Persia. But an evil plot had been hatched to annihilate Esther’s people, the Jews. When her uncle begged her to go speak to the king on their behalf, Esther refused. To enter the king’s presence without an invitation meant certain death. Marianne read down to her favorite part, Esther’s uncle’s reply, “‘Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?’”

The words seemed to fly off the page and circle her cabin, proclaiming their truth and dispelling the shadows. Marianne’s eyes burned. She gazed at the words once more. A tear spilled onto the Bible—right in the center of the phrase.

Her throat went dry. “Is this for me, Lord? Is this a message?”

No answer came.

She kept reading, skipping down to Esther’s last declaration. She would do as her uncle asked. She would do the right thing. She would approach the king. Marianne read her final words out loud. “‘If I perish, I perish.’”

Such faith. Such trust. She closed the book and laid it aside, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Esther risked her life, believing You’d be with her, Lord. And she had an opportunity to save an entire race of people. What a destiny.”

She lay back down on her mattress and listened to the pounding of the sea against the hull. But she was no queen. She couldn’t save a nation. She couldn’t even save herself.

CHAPTER 24

N
oah stood before the helm of his ship on the quarterdeck, boots spread apart, arms folded over his chest. A blast of hot summer wind punched him, clawed at his hair, and tried to shove him backward. But he stood his ground. He would surrender neither to the relentless wind nor to the dread churning in his gut.

He rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck, then raked his hair aside. It had grown long during the past month. What would his father think of Noah’s shabby appearance? He snorted. Better yet, what would he think of Noah losing half his cargo and sailing his precious ship on its way to engage in a battle they were sure to lose? Noah chuckled as he pictured the expression on his father’s face in light of such news, then surprised himself when he realized he no longer cared.

Marianne had changed all that. She had shown him that some things were more precious than wealth, than pleasing his father, than even his own life. In her, Noah had found the heart of an angel encased in a woman he would have shunned. But a heart that made her the most beautiful woman in the world to him. A heart loyal to country and family, an honorable heart, a loving heart—a heart he could only
hope he was worthy to possess.

Shaking his head, Noah squinted against the bright sun as it began its trek back down to the sea. Ribbons of sparkling waves reflected a clear blue sky. If the wind continued blowing strong, Noah would make up the time he had lost when he had stopped in Charleston two days ago to send ashore those of his crew with enough sense to escape while they could.

Half his crew, to be exact. Leaving him with only twenty men, only five of whom had prior fighting experience. Mr. Weller, among them. Noah still couldn’t believe the man had stayed and risked impressment again—or worse, death.

A gleam struck Noah’s eye, and he squinted toward a swivel gun mounted on the foredeck. Cloth in hand, Daniel buffed the brass-capped barrel while Weller and Matthew hovered around the lad, pointing out different sections of the gun. Daniel nodded and listened intently, his expression beaming with eagerness to learn. Noah smiled. The boy added a spirit of innocent hope to the ship. A hope they desperately needed.

Eight guns lined his deck—eight four pounders against the frigate’s thirty-two eighteen pounders and four twelve pounders. Not to mention that during battle, the crew of the frigate operated like a war machine, not like his bunch of shoddy, disorganized sailors.

He glanced at Luke who stood beside him. His jaw firm, his black hair blowing in the wind. The scar on his ear stood out in the afternoon sun. Noah had always wondered how Luke got the scar, but he assumed his first mate would tell him if he wanted to. The man had the morals of a rabbit, but the heart of a lion. He had no emotional investment in seeing that Marianne was safe. No loyalty for his country drove him to risk his life. He stood by Noah simply because they were friends.

Luke turned and gave him a knowing look.

“Unfurl the topgallants, Mr. Heaton. Set the stuns’ls. Let’s bring her to a swift sail.”

With a nod, Luke brayed commands over the ship, sending the men aloft as Daniel and Matthew leapt onto the quarterdeck.

The boy ran up to Noah, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Weller showed me how to load, run out, and prime the gun, Mr. Noah.”

Noah smiled at the boy. “Excellent.” He may need the lad’s help when the time came. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Noah found the boy’s father up in the yards, unfurling sail. He, too, had stayed, despite the overwhelming odds against them. Despite the danger to his son.

“And a quick learner he be.” Matthew patted Daniel on the back.

“Do you think we’ll catch up with them?” Luke’s blue eyes stood stark against the fading bruises on his cheeks.

Noah inhaled a deep breath of the sea air. “We have no choice.”

“Of course we will.” Daniel’s voice carried not a shred of doubt as he leaned over the railing and closed his eyes to the wind.

“It’s not the catchin’ up that bothers me.” Matthew doffed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. The afternoon sun gleamed off his bald head. “It’s what happens when we do find them.”

The sails caught the wind in a deafening snap, and the ship canted, picking up speed. The men grew somber, all save Daniel. He clung to the railing and smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Perhaps the boy knew something they didn’t. If only Noah could know the future. If only he could know whether he led his men to their deaths.

“Daniel.” Noah drew the boy’s gaze his way. “Have you a word from God on our fate?”

“It doesn’t work like that, Mr. Noah.” Daniel shoved hair from his eyes and squinted into the sun. “If God has something He wants me to know, He tells me. If not, He don’t.”

The ship pitched over a wave, sending spray upon the bow. Noah spread his boots on the deck and huffed. “Then how is one supposed to trust Him without any direction?”

Daniel gazed at Noah as if he were the child. “God wants you to trust Him no matter if He tells you things ahead of time or not. Like it says in Romans. ‘All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’”

Luke snorted and took a step away, as if wanting to get out of earshot of the sermon.

Noah wished he could do the same. “Nice words, but I fear they don’t apply to me.”

Daniel shrugged. “You don’t know the end yet.”

“What’s that, boy?” Luke inched closer, a frown on his face.

Daniel gestured toward Noah. “He doesn’t know how the story ends. None of us do. Not until the day we die.”

“Which may be sooner than we hope.” Matthew chortled.

Daniel tugged up his oversized breeches—the only pair Noah had found onboard to fit the lad. “How do you know everything in your life is going to turn out for good if you’re not at the end of everything in your life?”

Matthew’s eyes flashed. “The lad makes a good amount o’ sense.”

“So, I must wait until my death to verify what God says is true?” The sarcasm in Noah’s voice surprised even him.

“Or you can just trust Him now and be done with it.” Daniel smiled. “Seems to me, He knows a lot more about our lives than we do. ‘Sides, He loves us.”

Noah flexed his jaw and he steadied himself as the ship bolted again. The faith of a foolish child. A foolish child who knew nothing of life.

Daniel’s eyes twinkled. “What if God put together all the things that happened: me and my pa gettin’ impressed, then you and your lady friend and crew bein’ impressed, the escape, even leaving Miss Marianne behind”—the twinkle faded from his eyes for a moment— “all of it for this moment when a simple merchantman takes on a British warship.” He grinned. “It could be your destiny.”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” Noah growled, trying to ignore the lad, trying to ignore the longing buried deep within him—a longing for some meaning to his life.

Daniel frowned and lowered his chin. “It don’t matter if you don’t believe. You have a destiny just the same. But you have to surrender to God to find it.” He shrugged. “An’ then you have to do it.”

Noah clenched his jaw. He patted his pocket where Jacob’s bloody handkerchief lay. He knew the boy meant well, but Noah refused to believe destiny had led his brother to his death. Refused to believe in a God who allowed such a destiny. No, it was far easier to believe there was no such thing. That God was aloof and distant and kept His hand off the affairs of men.

“I feel God telling me that you do have a destiny, Mr. Noah,” Daniel said. “Yes, a great purpose.”

Noah pressed down upon the boy’s shoulder, hoping to silence him. “I’m afraid God takes no note of me or my life.”

“God takes note of everyone,” Matthew added.

“I’ll have no more talk of God or destiny!” Noah barked, instantly regretting his tone. “If the Almighty has been orchestrating my life, then He is nothing but a cruel taskmaster—one I will never be able to please.”

“He’s not anything like that, Mr. Noah.” Daniel’s voice weighed heavy with sorrow.

Luke excused himself and leapt onto the main deck. Noah couldn’t blame him.

“If I didn’t know better,” Matthew said to Noah, “I’d think you were describin’ your father.” He gave Noah a look of disapproval before hobbling away.

Noah flinched. Was he mistaking God for his father? Hadn’t Luke told him the same thing back on the frigate? But God had not proven himself to be any different from Noah’s father. Both had far too many rules. And all it took was one mistake to invoke their disapproval.

A mistake like Noah’s jealousy of his brother—a mistake that had sent Jacob to his death.

He wanted no part of a God like that.

The sun descended farther toward the horizon off the port side. He glanced aloft. Mountains of bloated canvas crowded the masts. Salty mist sprayed over his face as the ship rippled through the sparkling sea on a north by northeast course. If the weather and wind held, they would catch the HMS
Undefeatable
in no time.

“I’m coming, Marianne,” he whispered into the wind. “Be strong, princess.”