Then he whispered in her ear, “I love you, Anne Grant.”
“I love you, Ian. Aye, I love you, too.”
“I'll speak with the captain,” Ian whispered into her hair. “I will see if he will marry us before we leave the ship.”
Anne sighed. “Do you not think he'll be angry? We lied about being husband and wife to get aboardâ¦.”
Ian thought a moment. “Let me speak with him,” was all he said.
They lay with their arms wrapped about one another. The gentle rocking of the
Hector
eventually soothed them into sleep.
Breakfast consisted of the pitiful moldy oatcakes. Ian used his knife to cut away the worst of the spoiled edges for Anne. They tasted foul, and washed down with stale water, they did little to satisfy the appetite.
The sun was just beginning to lift the morning fog when there was a great splash near the ship. The settlers cried out in surprise. Many rushed to the starboard rail and peered into the misty morning. Just when they were starting to think they
had imagined the noise, another great splash rippled the wispy fog.
“What was that?” Rebecca Patterson squeaked.
A sound like rushing air came out of the mists and then an enormous dark shape loomed up next to the
Hector
. Passengers gasped and shuffled back from the rail.
“It's a sea monster!” a woman screamed.
The settlers began to yell and mill about in panic. The captain strode into their midst and barked, “Silence! Stand fast!” Everyone froze.
The shape in the water raised its back and then lifted its magnificent T-shaped tail. The tail must have been fifteen feet across, white with an edging of black. It slipped noiselessly below the surface. The passengers stood in awe, their mouths agape.
“That creature is a whale,” the captain announced. “A humpback whale. They feed in these waters. They are quite harmless to ships.”
The settlers huddled uneasily, staring at the sea.
About thirty feet from the bow, the whale erupted from the water and crashed upon the waves. The wake of its splash rocked the
Hector
. A few of the settlers scuttled below, making the sign of the cross as they went; most stood in silent fascination, transfixed by the magnificence of the creature.
It dove again, then several moments later, resurfaced, spouting a fountain of moist air through its blowhole. The whale swam atop the waves for a time and then crashed its huge white flipper on the surface, drumming the sea. Eventually, it rolled and dove, displaying its astonishing tail once more.
It was the most majestic thing Anne had ever seen. Such power and grace. It quite took her breath away. She glanced up into Ian's face and saw her awed amazement mirrored in his eyes.
The humpback had been feeding just off the coast of Cape Breton Island, the northern tip of Nova Scotia. They sighted the island as the morning fog lifted.
Anne braced her resolve and went below. Lily was there already. Katherine lay limp, her breath rasping. The pox marred her face so that she was hardly recognizable.
Anne swallowed loudly twice, thrice, then made for a bucket and retched. She knelt, shivering over the bucket for a time, till her head stopped reeling. At last, she got unsteadily to her feet. She stood with one hand on a bunk, then bent and picked up the bucket. Wordlessly she carried it up on deck, emptied it, and scrubbed it out.
John Stewart approached her. “Ah, Anne. A word with you?”
“Oh, John, not now.”
He frowned.
Anne sighed. “I am busy, with Katherine, you know. And besides, John⦔
“I see,” he cut her off. He skulked across the deck toward some men at the bow.
Anne shook her head and returned to Katherine's bedside.
Lily glanced up at her, but said not a word. She simply took Anne's cold hand in her own for a moment, giving it a squeeze.
They sponged Katherine's hot forehead and wet her dry, chapped lips throughout the day. They spoke little.
Rebecca came to relieve them at sunset. Anne and Lily trudged wearily to the deck. The sun blazed to a crimson and violet end over a silver sea.
Anne leaned on the rail and watched the day die.
Ian came to her as the last tendrils of light streaked the western horizon. He waited till Anne turned her face toward him.
“I talked with Captain Spiers,” he said, his tone even.
Anne waited. There could be no joy, she feared. The master of the ship would be very angry with them. He probably refused Ian's request. He may even plan to punish them.
Ian said softly, “Did you mean what you said last night?”
Anne's backbone straightened. “Of course I did! How could you doubtâ¦?”
“Well,” Ian continued in a quiet voice, “if you have a mind to, Captain Spiers would be pleased to see us in his cabin.”
“Now?”
“Aye.” Ian did not move. He waited for her.
Anne was so weighed down with the heavy grief of her day, it took a long moment to shake free of it. She looked out at the darkening sky, and spied the first star as it pricked the eastern heavens with a pinpoint of light. She took a deep breath and reached out to touch Ian's cheek.
“Let us not keep the good captain waiting any longer, then,” she said at last.
Ian's face lit in a dazzling smile. He took her hand and they walked together to the stern. Ian knocked lightly on the captain's door, and when bade enter, he led Anne within.
Lily and John Sutherland were seated at the captain's table. Anne looked at them questioningly.
“We need two witnesses,” Ian explained. “I thought it would be all rightâ¦.”
“We shall not tell a soul,” Lily said in her matter-of-fact way.
Anne nodded. “I'm pleased to have you here. Thank you.”
Captain Spiers led them through the ceremony. As he recited the final prayer, Ian leaned over to whisper in Anne's ear, “You've got me into a lot of scrapes, Anne Grant. But this⦔
She flashed him a quick grin, and he kissed her.
Captain Spiers shook Ian's hand. He held Anne by the shoulders for a moment, looking into her eyes. Anne was afraid for a moment that he was going to scold her for her wanton deception. Instead, the captain said, “You are a brave lass. I wish you well.” Then he gave Anne a kiss on each cheek.
The Sutherlands gave their congratulations, and then the four settlers left the cabin. Not a word was said to any of the other travellers, sparing the young couple nasty gossip and reprimand.
The
Hector
passed St. John Island and beat its way toward Pictou Harbour. There was a buzz of excitement aboard. Land
lay all about them. It was only a matter of hours now, and they would be at their destination.
In the morning, Anne sat in the hold with Katherine, watching as each breath laboured in and out of her chest.
“Dear merciful God,” Anne prayed, “please let Katherine live. Let her stand on the soil of Nova Scotia. Please let her help her girls and Hugh start their new life in the New World.”
    Anne bathed Katherine's fevered, pocked brow and hummed bits of hymns to her.
Anne's heart skipped a beat when Katherine's eyes blinked open. Anne whispered, “Katherine?”
Katherine slowly turned her face and focussed her eyes upon Anne. She swallowed loudly.
Anne eased her friend's shoulders up and helped her to sip some water, then lay her gently down again.
Katherine croaked, “The girls.”
“Christina is better; she is doing fine now. Elspie has been caring for them all. She has been very good to them.”
Katherine gave a slight nod. Then she whispered huskily, “Do not let them throw me in the sea. I want to be buried. On land. Please.”
Anne's eyes brimmed with tears. She cradled Katherine's limp fingers in her hands. “Oh Katherine, you will get well now. You⦔
Katherine closed her eyes and opened them again. “Nay. Tell Hugh⦠take good care⦠the girls. I tried.”
Anne squeezed Katherine's frail fingers. “Aye. You are a grand mama to your girls.”
Katherine closed her eyes. She took a shuddering breath, then another. And then she breathed no more.
“No,” Anne whispered. “Oh no.” She lay her head in her arms and wept.
As Anne sobbed bitterly by Katherine's deathbed, the
Hector
slipped into Pictou Harbour.
The great white sails folded like the wings of a giant bird settling; the anchor lowered with a resounding rattle.
The longboat was hoisted from the deck and lowered to the
Hector
's side.
The settlers on deck cried and laughed in relief. Men rushed to their packs and donned their kilts. They would enter the New World wearing their tartans.
After a time, Anne quietly pulled the blanket up over Katherine's scarred face and shuffled to the ladder. She stared at the
Hector'
s miserable hold for a long moment, then stiffly climbed to the deck.
There was hardly room to walk among the passengers as they milled about, talking and gazing out over the rails. Anne wove through them like a leaf flowing down a stream, not fighting the current but merely edging around obstacles. She finally found Hugh at the starboard bow, with Alexander, Elspie, and their families.
Their animated faces fell when they saw Anne. Her grief was written clearly on her features. Hugh stepped forward and held her hands.
“She is gone?” he asked.
Anne nodded, too sorrowful to speak. Tears filled her eyes again.
Hugh looked to the heavens for a moment, then back at Anne, his eyes moist. “Thank you for caring for her,” he whispered. “You're a good friend.”
Anne cried, “She spoke, just before she passed. She⦠she said that she wanted to be buried. On land. Not at sea.”
Hugh nodded. “It will be as she asked.”
“And she said,” Anne choked, “that she tried. And to please take good care of the girls.”
Hugh nodded again. He glanced at his girls, playing nearby with their cousins. He lifted both of his hands and swept the tears off his face with his palms.
Alexander stood at his side and said, “They will want for nothing, Hugh.”
“That's right,” Elspie agreed, coming to his other side and taking Hugh's elbow. “We will help you with the girls. Never fear.”
“Thank you. I suppose⦠I must tell them.”
“I will speak to the captain, about arrangements to take her ashore,” Alexander said.
Hugh nodded, then took a shuddering breath and made for the children, his shoulders bent. Elspie trailed along to give support.
Anne turned and made for the rail. She slumped against it and gazed out. Having land about seemed foreign after so many weeks of the vastness of the sea. The beach was rocky, and great trees grew down to the shore. Autumn shades of gold and crimson smudged the jade green forest. The air was alive with wheeling birds, squawking and calling to each other. Dark shapes flitted amongst the trees, too quick to make out whether they were human or animal.
John MacKay tuned up his bagpipes and began to play. Master Orr shouted orders to the crew. Passengers gathered their few belongings and waited in hushed anticipation for the longboat to be loaded.
They had arrived. After two and a half months of grueling sea travel, storms, disease, and food shortages, they were here.
Anne hugged her arms about herself. They had gained this shore. But the price!
She gazed mournfully about the deck, her eyes pausing on those who had lost kin during the voyage. Eighteen brave souls died on the
Hector
. How many families would have embarked upon this venture if they could have known?
Hugh sat with Christina and Janet in his lap. Their soft words and sobs carried across the deck. Anne turned her face away.
Anne's gaze paused on Isabel and Jean Fraser, standing by the main mast, their scarred faces hidden in the hoods of their cloaks. They would live out their lives in painful disfigurement. Some of the passengers blamed them for the smallpox deaths, and had shunned them throughout the voyage. Anne pitied them. Surely they couldn't have known they had the illness when they boarded the ship?
Then she spied Janet Fraser, with baby Jane in her arms. She was the breath of new life in all the heartache and death they had suffered. She was like a promise of a future, of something better.
Ian found Anne. He looked very proud, wearing his MacLeod tartan. He took her hand and held it tightly.
They surveyed the shore. Anne thought it did not look so very different from Scotland, except it was wilder, freer, full of possibilities and challenges.
Ian gave her fingers a little squeeze. Anne looked up into his face.
“Well, lass, now it's up to us. To make a life for ourselves here.”
Anne took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “I'm ready, Ian,” she said.
O
THER
Q
UATTRO
F
ICTION
Texas
by Claudio Gaudio
Abundance of the Infinite
by Christopher Canniff
The Proxy Bride
by Terri Favro
Tea with the Tiger
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A Certain Grace
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Life Without
by Ken Klonsky
Romancing the Buzzard
by Leah Murray
The Lebanese Dishwasher
by Sonia Saikaley
Against God
by Patrick Senécal
The Ballad of Martin B.
by Michael Mirolla
Mahler's Lament
by Deborah Kirshner
Surrender
by Peter Learn
Constance, Across
by Richard Cumyn
In the Mind's Eye
by Barbara Ponomareff
The Panic Button
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Shrinking Violets
by Heidi Greco