Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [55]
“I don’t have a relationship with God that can be hurt.”
“Tabbie.” He reached one hand out to her. “I could never forgive myself if I’m the cause of your damaged faith.”
“Don’t concern yourself about it.” She smiled, though her eyes were sad. “I must not have had a good relationship with God in the first place, if it could be shattered so easily.”
“Easily? You suffered a great deal.” Raleigh returned his hand to the wheel and began to make a sweeping turn to take them up the coast. “I disappeared and your mother died. You’d already lost your father.”
“Well, Grandmomma lost her husband when she had a small child to raise and then later lost that child.”
“He brought me home.” Raleigh turned so he could look at her. “I prayed every night to come home, and He finally answered my prayer.”
Even as he spoke, Raleigh’s conscience pricked him. If he’d trusted in the Lord to get him home, he wouldn’t be in such a pickle. Yet he would tell Tabitha anything to bring her back into fellowship with the Lord.
“And I’m glad you’re here.” This time, her smile reached her eyes. “Let’s sail out a bit further and drop anchor. I want to indulge in some real fishing for once.”
For that smile, Raleigh would have sailed to Halifax. He tacked northeast, making a diagonal course from the land. Off the larboard quarter, the roof of Tabitha’s house and her prized apple tree showed above the dunes. Along the beach, several children dug for clams in the hard-packed sand below the tide line. One or two adults watched over them, and a lone figure strode across the dunes—a man, judging from the clothes, with long hair blowing in the breeze.
Raleigh jerked the wheel. The fishing smack yawed, hit a wave with the starboard bow, and rolled over far enough to touch the larboard gunwale. The sail flapped, lost the wind, then caught it again with enough force they rolled in the opposite direction.
Tabitha staggered. Raleigh shot out his arm and caught her around the waist, drawing her to safety, drawing her close to his side.
“Hold on to me while I straighten us out.”
When he felt her grasp his waist with her arm, he released his hold on her and returned his attention to the wheel and wind and waves. The smack dipped and twisted like a confused dancer, then caught the next wave beneath her prow and rose with the grace of one of the seagulls whirling and calling near the shore.
Tabitha released him as soon as the boat’s pitch grew even enough for her to stand on her own. Far too soon for Raleigh. She didn’t even look at him—she was looking at the shore. Too easily, Raleigh guessed what on shore held her attention, and he nearly sent the bow rolling beneath a wave again. With an effort, he said nothing. He wanted to, but feared mentioning his suspicions about the man would do him no good at the moment and probably would harm the day. Just mentioning his name would bring him aboard the boat. Later, when they were on shore, he would warn her to stay away from the bondsman.
Raleigh tacked again, heading further out to sea. The land fell away, its inhabitants too small for identification. And Tabitha seemed to lose interest. She made her way forward, to where poles and lines lay tethered to the deck.
“Did you bring bait?” she asked.
“Some rock crabs.” Raleigh glanced at the horizon, the angle of the sun, and the now distant shore little more than a horizon itself. “I’ll get the sail down, then you can help me with the anchor.”
Raleigh leaped forward and furled the sail. Then, together, they spun the windlass and got the anchor dropped over the side and down to the sandy bottom of the clear blue water. The Marianne jerked like a large fish at the end of a line, then settled to rise and fall on the swells of the sea. Around them, sunlight sparkled off the waves like golden-backed fish. The rising wind tugged at Tabitha’s hat ribbons and flirted with her frilly hem.
Raleigh paused in the middle of retrieving a pole from the canvas netting and gazed at her in wonder. She’d been pretty