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Raven held his lantern aloft as he hurried down the ladder into the aft section of the hold where the ship’s provisions were stored. That he didn’t hear screaming struck him as a good sign until he reached the injured man and found he had suffered a crushing blow to the chest and couldn’t utter more than an anguished whisper. Hanging the lantern on a peg, Raven bent down beside the young merchant seaman.
“I don’t want to risk moving you, John, but we’ll make you as comfortable as we can here.” Raven looked toward the men who had been with him. “How did this happen?”
A burly man named Owen stepped from the shadows. “We’d untied the ropes to free one of the barrels of beers but before we could get a hold of it, it tipped and went rolling right over John. It’s the storm, captain. We couldn’t hold the barrel with the ship bouncing up and down like a fat woman’s breasts. It weren’t our fault.”
Raven’s expression mirrored his concern. He and Alex had argued over having a surgeon on board, but Alex had always protested that Julian fussed over him so much when he was at home, he was not about to have another physician around to spoil his enjoyment of their voyages. That seemed a trivial complaint now that one of the men had been so badly hurt. Most mishaps on board ship were due to carelessness of one kind or another, and Raven thought that a cause in this case as well but there was no sense in berating Owen for not being more careful when John was gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Someone had brought a couple of blankets, and Raven used one to cover John, then doubled up the other to prop him up slightly. He seemed to be able to breathe easier for a short while, then he weakened and began to call a woman’s name.
“Who’s Molly??
? Raven asked Owen.
“She’s the redhead that works at the Fife and Drum in Kingston. John fancies he loves her, but you know the type of lass she is.” Owen shrugged slightly, conveying the impression John’s affection was misplaced.
When John closed his eyes and continued to moan Molly’s name, Raven expected each breath to be the man’s last. He hated to see anyone die in so senseless an accident. Suddenly realizing he could at least ease the man’s mind, he rose and told the men gathered around he would return shortly. He hoped it would be in time to do some good.
Eden was dressed only in her nightgown, but Raven gave her no time to don more than her slippers and heavy black wool cloak. “I need you to do a favor for one of the men. He’s been so badly hurt I doubt he’ll live more than another minute or two, but I want you to pretend you’re his girl. Can you do it?”
Readily grasping his sense of urgency, Eden could only promise to try. “I did that many times in the hospital in Richmond. Near the end of a man’s life, any feminine voice seems to sound like that of the woman he loves.”
“Let’s hope it works again then.” Raven took her hand and, exercising all possible caution, guided her down the succession of ladders that led to the hold. Without further prompting, Eden started to make her way through the men gathered around John.
“What’s her name?” she turned to call over her shoulder.
“Molly, and he’s John Rawlings,” Raven whispered.
The men parted to allow Eden to approach John, but their expressions ranged from amazement to disgust as none could imagine why the captain had summoned her. Even if she possessed a talent for healing, their fallen companion was beyond her help.
Thinking Molly might not be fair-haired, Eden took the precaution of pulling her hood up over her curls before she knelt at John’s side and took his hand. She was sorry to find him such a young man, no more than twenty at the most. Leaning down, she kissed his brow and whispered, “It’s Molly, John.”
John tried to smile, and a large tear rolled down his cheek. “Molly, is it really you?”
“Yes, my darling, it’s me.” Eden reached out to brush a stray curl off his forehead as she imagined the woman he loved would do. He had thick brown curls, and eyes that were more gray than blue. While his features were contorted with pain, she was certain he was usually considered good looking.
John savored that announcement for nearly a minute before speaking again. “I always wanted to ask you to be my wife.”
“I’d be proud to be your wife, John. Didn’t you know that?”
Raven was as touched as the other men crowded into the hold as they listened to Eden respond to John’s halting remarks with such sweet replies it brought tears to their eyes. Her voice was soft, yet filled with affection and they found it difficult to remember she was not really the woman John loved, but instead a wonderfully considerate stranger. The injured man was nearly incoherent now, but he clung to Eden’s hand as his lungs, pierced by his shattered ribs, slowly filled with the blood that would drown him. It was a pitiful sight, and yet none wanted to leave and miss a word of the poignant dialogue taking place.
When John lapsed into unconsciousness, Raven came forward and laid his hand on his bride’s shoulder. “Come with me. It’s far too cold for you to remain down here any longer.”
“No, I want to stay with him until the end. Molly wouldn’t leave him alone.”
When she looked up at Raven, her golden gaze was filled with a haunted light. He could not help but wonder if she wasn’t thinking of Alex and if it wasn’t really Alex she couldn’t bear to leave rather than John. Until that instant he had not realized just how great a favor he had asked but truly she was the last person on board he should have asked to sit with a dying man. He didn’t have the heart to argue with her, and so knelt by her side and waited until John’s heart ceased to beat. Less than an hour had passed since Owen had sent up the cry of alarm, and Raven noted the time so he could make an accurate entry of John’s death in his log.
The weather began to clear by noon of the following day. Owen had insisted upon being the one to fashion John’s canvas shroud. When it was time for the burial service to begin, he had the fallen mariner’s body ready to be consigned to the depths.
“Are you certain you feel up to this?” Raven asked Eden considerately. He had again worked until after midnight. The weather had steadily improved during the night, but he had purposely stayed away from his cabin to give Eden time to be alone with her thoughts and memories. She had been sleeping soundly when he had been ready for bed, and while he was disappointed she had not helped him to again undress, he had not awakened her to assist him.
“Your crew thinks little enough of me as it is, Raven. Surely they’d consider me completely heartless were I to miss John’s funeral.”
Raven did not want to comment on the crew’s opinions until he had had the opportunity to again observe the men when Eden was on deck. From the comments he had overheard during the night, he had gotten the distinct impression that, after her moving portrayal of Molly, most of the men had reassessed their thinking where she was concerned. If so, he hoped it would be apparent at the service as Eden’s mood had been subdued ever since John’s death and he would welcome any help to cheer her.
“A burial at sea usually doesn’t consist of much more than a psalm or two and the Lord’s Prayer. It won’t take long.”
“I hope you’ve not had to do this often.”
“No, thank God, I haven’t, but I’ve never had a man die of natural causes. All our casualties have been as a result of accidents as stupid as the one that killed John.”
