Surrender the Heart (53 page)

The ship bolted. Bracing her feet, Marianne wove through a mob of sailors to the railing. Following the gazes of the officers, she squinted against a setting sun to see the faint tips of masts, crowded with snowy sail, poking above the horizon.

Gray smoke puffed and the thunder bellowed again. That was no storm. It was
cannon fire
. Her heart clamped. Had they found the
Constitution?
Too far away to tell.

And who was firing at whom?

As the frigate sped toward the battling ship, Marianne’s gaze distinguished the masts as two sets from two different ships. A cloud of smoke filled the gap between them.

She glanced aloft. With all sails crowding the masts and bursting with wind, the
Undefeatable
flew through the water like an angry demon out for blood. The ship pitched over a rising swell. Salty spray showered over Marianne, threatening to loosen her firm grip on the railing. Her stomach flipped and nausea boiled within. Fear of the sea, fear of death, fear of living out her days on board this ship caused the blood to swell in her head until it throbbed.

Though longing to go below to the false safety of her cabin, Marianne kept her feet in place. At least until she discovered the identity of the ships.

French, British, or American? She shifted her gaze between Captain Milford, his officers, and the ships, knowing one or all of them would soon answer her questions.

Above her, top men scurried across lines to adjust and tighten the canvas to the wind. Thank God Noah was not among them anymore.

Another thunderous boom echoed across the graying sky. “Bear off, haul your braces, ease sheets!” Mr. Garrick shouted.

Minutes passed as the
Undefeatable
plunged through roller after roller, riding the sea high and wide, foam spraying over the deck.

Marianne craned her neck and she squinted toward the ships, but she couldn’t make out their ensigns.

“It’s the HMS
Guerriére!”
Captain Milford barked, lowering his spyglass.

As the ships closed in on one another, the sky exploded in a barrage of cannon fire and the
pop pop pop
of musket shot. A thick cloud of smoke consumed the two ships. When it cleared, one of the vessels veered toward the setting sun, bringing its flag into full view. The red and white stripes and star-studded blue flapped proudly in the evening breeze.

The USS
Constitution
. And she seemed to be holding her own against the British warship. Marianne’s heart swelled with pride, then shrank in fear.

The
Constitution
was no match for
two
British warships.

“Clear for battle!” Lieutenant Garrick bellowed. “Starboard guns stand by!”

The fife and drum played the “Heart of Oak,” signaling the call to quarters. A shrill whistle sent sailors scrambling over the deck, removing all obstructions and sprinkling sand across the planks. Some landed on her shoes. Crewmen rigged nets over the deck to protect those below from falling blocks and other tackle. Gun crews mobbed the guns as powder boys leapt above from the hatches carrying the powder bags, wads, and shot. Marianne thought of Daniel and thanked God he wasn’t here as well.

But she was. And she had to do something.

Boom boom boom boom boom
, the blast of a broadside drew her gaze back to the battling ships, not more than fifty yards away now. When the smoke cleared, the
Guerriére’s
main yard hung shattered and lifeless.
She resisted the urge to raise a huzzah in the air. Excitement charged through her as the
Constitution
bore around the British ship yet again. The air thundered with another broadside. Marianne held her breath until the sooty smoke cleared. The mizzenmast of the
Guerriére
dragged lifeless in the water.
Thank You, Lord
. The
Constitution
was winning!

Could the ship also beat the
Undefeatable
and rescue Marianne? Dare she hope?

“Run out the guns!” Mr. Reed’s deep voice bounced over the deck.

The
Undefeatable
would be upon the ships within minutes. Marianne faced the battling duo again just in time to see the two ships ram into each other and the
Guerriére
‘s bowsprit become tangled in the
Constitution
‘s fallen lines. Musket and pistol shot popped through the air. Along with the screams of men.

A gust of wind struck her, bringing with it the sting of gunpowder.

“We’ve got her now!” Captain Milford shouted.

He was right. Entangled as she was and unable to maneuver, the
Constitution
would have no defense against the
Undefeatable
‘s broadside.

Panic iced through Marianne. She must do something. Perhaps this was her time. Perhaps she’d been placed here for such a time as this.

CHAPTER 28

S
ail-ho!” A shout bellowed from the masthead.

“Where away, Mr. Crenshaw?” Noah scanned the surrounding sea.

“Off our starboard bow, Cap’n.”

Plucking his scope from his belt, Noah jumped onto the main deck and raised it to his eye. Steadying it against the rise and fall of the ship, he focused on the fading horizon.

“Two sets of sail!” the shout spiraled down from above just as the billowing canvas came into view.

Noah lowered the scope. “Four points to starboard, Mr. Pike,” he yelled over his shoulder. “All hands on deck. Let go the topgallants!”

Behind him, Luke repeated orders that sent his meager crew scurrying into the shrouds.

Noah braced his boots over the hard planks as the ship veered to starboard. Wind whipped his hair, tossing it in his face. He snapped it away and raised his glass again.

They’d not spotted a sail since their encounter with the British war sloop. And now two sails appeared near the area Marianne had said
the
Undefeatable
was to join the
Guerriére
.

Marianne. His heart jumped at the thought that she was near.
Oh Lord, let it be her
.

Under a full press of canvas, the newly christened
Defender
sped through the choppy seas. But not fast enough. Though his men had plugged the hole with canvas and tar and boarded it up with wood, sea-water seeped in to join the waterlogged hold, weighing them down.

Luke appeared beside him, his stubbled jaw stiffening. They shared a knowing glance.

“Make that three sets of sail!” Mr. Crenshaw’s excited voice once again showered over them from above.

Noah raised his scope. Three distinct hulls settled on the horizon. And if his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, a cloud of smoke drifted between them.

Cannon shot thundered, confirming his suspicions.

“Seems we’re intruding on someone’s battle.” Luke rubbed the scar on his ear.

“But ‘Whose battle?’ is the question. Only one interests me.”

Scratching his chin, Matthew took a spot on the other side of Noah. Behind them, the setting sun tossed golden spires across the foam-capped waves and reflected on the ships beyond.

Another burst of cannon cracked the air. Noah leapt up the fore-deck ladder and dashed to the bow for a better view. He studied the ships through his glass but still could not make out their ensigns.

The
Defender
plunged down a massive swell, and Noah gripped the railing as salty spray stung his face.

More cannon shot exploded.

He focused his scope on the ship closest to him. His heart skipped a beat. He’d know that ship anywhere. The
Undefeatable
. Spinning on his heel, he approached the foredeck railing and spotted Weller and Blackthorn below. “Ready the guns!”

With a shake of his head and a look of disbelief, Weller swerved about and called for the men to assemble. Blackthorn and Daniel scrambled to their positions at one of the stern guns.

Noah patted his pocket, seeking comfort from his brother’s handkerchief, but nothing but fabric and air met his touch. It was gone. He’d had it in his hand when the shot crashed into his cabin. Panic seized him. But then he realized something anew—he had another comfort, one that went far deeper than a piece of fabric, a comfort that didn’t fade. An odd peace settled on him. He no longer needed the token. His brother was in heaven, and Noah had been forgiven. His guilt was gone. His debt was paid.

Not by a bloody handkerchief, but by the blood of the Son of God.

Noah smiled and turned to Agnes and Matthew who stood arm in arm gazing at the battling ships. The woman’s normally ruddy cheeks had turned as white as sea foam.

Even Luke’s blue eyes held a hint of foreboding.

Noah swallowed. Was he leading his men to their deaths?
Oh Lord, please be with us
. Turning, he stared at the
Undefeatable
.

Undefeatable
, indeed.

Yes, his ship was half its size. Yes, he was taking on water. Yes, he had only twenty crewmen compared to the frigate’s two hundred and fifty. Yes, he only had five guns compared to the frigate’s thirty-two.

But he had something far more powerful than anything they possessed.

He had God on his side.

Gripping the handle of the knife through the fabric of her skirt, Marianne squeezed past throngs of sailors as they dashed through the companionway. The pounding of her heart joined the pulsing cadence of the crew’s boots thumping over the wooden planks as they bumped and shoved her with barely a pardon tossed her way.

She gazed over the harried scene. With most of the bulkheads removed to clear the area for battle, the lower deck had transformed into a large open space that reminded Marianne of a dreary tavern where she’d once found her inebriated father. Only the occasional furniture or crate marked where the walls once stood. The crew’s anxious
muttering tied her nerves in knots. Though no doubt accustomed to battle, the men’s heightened intensity told her that familiarity with war did not lessen their terror. She pressed a hand over her stomach in an attempt to quell her own fear. They intended to do battle against the USS
Constitution
—against her country’s ship. And in the
Constitution’s
present situation, entwined with the
Guerriére
, they would win. But Marianne could not let that happen.