Summer of the Midnight Sun (25 page)

“Don’t look at me that way,” he said with a laugh. “You look absolutely disgusted with me. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Leah, but this could be the last chance I have to tell you how I feel.”

“I’m not disgusted,” she managed to say. “I . . . I don’t know what I am. But I’m sure it has nothing to do with disgust.”

He kissed her again, then guided her hand to the metal frame of the bed. “Hold tight.” She wrapped her fingers around the piece and did as he told her.

“I have to go, but I didn’t want to leave without letting you know how I feel. I’ve been a fool, Leah. I know that now. I wish I’d known it ten years ago.”

She felt her senses regroup. “I knew it ten years ago,” she said, trying hard not to sound frightened.

He smiled. “But that’s because you’re smarter than me.” The ship seemed to groan beneath them. “Look, I have to go. Stay here unless they call to abandon the ship.”

“Do you think they will?”

“I don’t know how bad the damage is. I know we’re in trouble, but I’m hoping we can turn it around. Get dressed and make sure your things are ready in case we have to leave quickly. And, Leah?”

“What?” She felt her knees begin to shake violently.

“Pray.”

With that he crossed the room and left, leaving her door open to the passageway. Mindless of the exposure, Leah fought against the motion to pull on her sealskin pants over woolen tights. They would keep her warm against the ocean air, should they have to seek shelter in a lifeboat.

“Father, please stop the storm. Send it away from us and calm the seas. Oh, help us, Father,” she prayed as she began layering her clothes. She had already been wearing a long woolen undershirt that Karen had made for her. She added a blouse over this and a kuspuk to top the blouse. She had no heavy parka, for Jacob had promised to bring that to Nome when he met her there. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would be warm enough should they have to leave the ship.

To her surprise, Leah began to realize that the pitching had lessened. She breathed a sigh of relief. The storm was passing.

That had to be good. Perhaps the danger had passed. “Thank you, God,” she whispered.

Most of her things had been packed into crates and stored in the hold, but what little remained in the cabin she quickly packed in her small bag. As a last thought, she took up the box of matches on the nightstand and stuck them in her mukluks as she pulled the heavy boots on over her wool socks. They might have need of them later, and Jacob had taught her there was never such a thing as a useless item in the Alaskan Territory.

But just as Leah felt that things were improving, people began to run amuck in the passageway. She heard their shouts and their frightened cries.

“I have to get my children!”

“Where’s my key? I have to get my things from the cabin!”

“No, sir! Leave everything. There won’t be room in the lifeboats.”

Lifeboats? Leah felt her feet freeze in place. It was impossible to tell, but she thought she heard a man crying, “Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

She moved to the door and tried to step out, only to be pushed back inside by a heavyset man who appeared to have the cabin across from hers.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Didn’t you hear? We’re sinking. We’re to abandon ship now!” the man said before disappearing into his room.

Leah went back to the bed where she’d left her bag. If the man had been correct, she would need to leave her things. She quickly took off the kuspuk and opened her bag. She took out another blouse and pulled it on over the first one. Replacing the kuspuk, she then took up three pairs of heavy wool socks and stuffed them into the top of her pants. The rest could be left behind—along with all the wonderful things she had in the hold.

She felt a sort of listing to the right as she hurried to the hall. People were frantic, nearly throwing each other to the floor as they fought to get topside. Leah avoided them as best she could but found herself slammed against the wall more than once.

“We must get to the lifeboats,” a woman sobbed as she pushed past Leah. “We have to or we’ll die.” She looked Leah in the eyes just long enough to reflect the terror in her heart.

“We cannot panic,” Leah said, trying to help the woman to the stairs. “We must be brave.”

The woman seemed to absorb this for a moment and finally nodded. “We must be brave.” She continued to murmur this over and over as they made their way along the passage.

Leah focused on each step as they fell into line behind the other people making their way to the top. In her mind, Leah cared only about one thing. Where was Jayce? Had he already abandoned ship?

“No, he would have come for me,” she murmured.

“Where will we go?” another passenger questioned from behind her. “We’re in the middle of the ocean. Who will find us here?”

Other people began to comment on this—each one more terrified than the one before. She prayed for them silently.
Please, Lord, calm their spirits
.

A strong beefy-armed man reached out to pull her up the last two steps. “Come on, miss. Make your way to the port side. We don’t want another
Titanic
on our hands. Come on, folks, there’s plenty of lifeboats for everybody. Make your way down.”

Leah thought of the luxury liner that had sunk only three years earlier after hitting an iceberg. The tragic loss of life had been overwhelming. When she and Jacob had finally heard about the horrific ordeal, it was already old news. Now she might very well live through another Titanic situation.

“Get on down there, lady. There are boats waiting to be lowered.”

She searched the decks for any sign of Jayce. He had to be there! He had to be somewhere! She broke away from the pressing stream of people who were rushing to reach safety.

“Jayce!” she called over and over. Her façade of calm fell away. “Jayce, where are you?”

But with everyone else screaming and calling the names of their loved ones, Leah knew it was hopeless. She might never see him again. The thought chilled her to the bone and frightened her more than the idea of setting into the ocean in nothing but a small lifeboat.

She might lose him again. Only this time—it would be forever.

Chapter Twenty-one

J
ayce searched the deck for Leah and could find no sign of her.

A few of the men were loading into boats where women sat in numb silence, while down in the water, lifeboats were splaying out on the still-choppy waters. Jayce felt bad for the passengers. They were terrified, and with good reason. He hurried to help two of the crew who struggled with the winch to lower one of the boats. The people in the boat were screaming as the mechanism lowered them in a lopsided manner. If the crewmen continued, they’d spill them all into the Pacific.

“Let me help,” Jayce said, pushing one of the young men out of his way.

“It’s stuck,” the sailor said.

Jayce gave the handle a good kick, then pushed with all his might. The winch gave way, and the boat lowered in an even manner.

Jayce glanced up and caught a fleeting sight of a woman. He craned his neck to see around the sailor. It was Leah! He called to her and she stopped in midstep. As she turned, he could see the abject terror in her expression. Hurrying through the remaining men, he reached her and glanced at his watch. “Three minutes.”

“What?” she asked, embracing him. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Well, you have now. Only we have to hurry. The boiler is going to blow this ship sky-high. We need to get to a boat.” He glanced left and saw a boat being lowered with only two women.

“Come on, hurry.”

They ran for the side, and Jayce quickly called to the sailors. “Stop! Two more.” The men seemed nervously irritated but waited for Jayce and Leah to board. “Hurry!” Jayce said, motioning to the men. “Then join us. We’ll wait for you.”

The men lowered them in record speed. They hit the water hard, nearly spilling the old woman at the far side of the boat. She cried out, but held fast to the side with one hand, while gripping what appeared to be a native-made bowl with the other. Jayce could do nothing to help her, and Leah was already trying to comfort the other woman, who was grabbing at her chest and moaning.

“We have to put on life jackets,” Jayce called. “They’re in the storage box.”

Leah went to work to retrieve them. They were wrapped in a canvas-type tarp and looked fairly new. Jayce breathed a sigh of relief at this. He’d heard stories of life jackets that were no good to anyone because of their age and poor craftsmanship.

Leah helped the sick woman, whom they’d learned was named Bethel, into her jacket, but the old woman flatly refused to put hers on. “It’s too confining. I know how to swim.”

Jayce didn’t have the heart to tell her that the cold temperatures of the water would be more likely to claim her life than the water itself.

Jayce looked at his watch. They were nearly out of time—the boiler would blow soon. He pulled on his own life jacket as Leah secured hers, and then he took up oars. “Leah, get the other oars—we have to get out of here.” She did as he told her as he looked back up to the men who’d helped them. “Jump for it. We’ll pick you up.”

There were two other lifeboats nearby. The men on these encouraged the crew as well. “Jump! Jump! We’re right here. We have blankets. Jump!”

Jayce watched as several sailors did just that. They hit the icy waters and disappeared into the darkness. Jayce watched for them to reappear. One by one, like bobbers on a fishing line, they came up—fighting and thrashing against the icy cold. Two of the men were quickly picked up by one of the other boats, but none of the sailors were close enough for Jayce to reach.

“Leah, let’s row in this direction.” He pointed the way, then began to put his back into it. Leah did likewise. They had moved out maybe twenty yards when the first explosion nearly capsized them.

“Keep rowing, Leah. Keep rowing. We have to get away from the ship.”

They did their best, but Jayce knew it wouldn’t be easy to escape harm. When the second, more deadly explosion came only seconds later, they were pummeled with fiery debris. Jayce kept rowing. He felt something bite into his neck and arms while pieces of the ship came down like rain.

The fire lit up the night, and around them Jayce could see boats fighting to get away from the doomed ship. They were in the midst of utter chaos. No one was paying attention to anyone else; they were only thinking of survival.

Jayce saw a man floating in the water face down. He stopped rowing and motioned for Leah to help him. They reached over the side together and tried to pull the man to safety. Then Jayce’s worst fears were confirmed as they rolled the man over. “He’s dead, Leah,” he said. “Let him go.”

“Oh,” Bethel moaned behind Leah. “I’m dying.”

Jayce looked at the woman. She seemed to be gasping for breath, while beyond her the other old lady had apparently succumbed to her fears and fainted. The cherished bowl lay at her feet, surprisingly in one piece.

The fire was dying away as the ship continued to sink. Here and there fiery debris floated on the water, temporarily lighting their way. It would only be a matter of minutes until they were in darkness once again. Jayce felt the hopelessness of their situation settle on his shoulders. What were they to do now?

Leah turned to help Bethel. “Just rest. The worst is over now.

Don’t worry your heart anymore.”

The woman’s tear-stained face haunted Jayce. “I have a daughter in Nome. If I don’t make it . . .”

“Shh, you’ll make it,” Leah encouraged.

“But if I don’t, please let her know what happened to me. Her name is Caroline Rivers.”

Jayce watched Leah comfort the woman. Her tenderness to this stranger caused Jayce to only love Leah more. Dr. Cox in Nome had said she was a great healer, and Jayce could understand why. Leah had a natural heart for making others feel better.

“Jayce, I think the other passenger is dead.”

He shook off his thoughts. “What?”

Leah’s expression was stricken. “She’s taken a blow to her head. The piece is still there. She’s dead.”

Bethel began to sob. “We’re all doomed. God have mercy on us.”

“Come on, Leah. We need to row and catch up with the others,” Jayce said, still not certain what should be done.

Leah grabbed up the oar and positioned herself to row. It was the only thing they could do, Jayce reasoned. There were no other options.

————

Jacob awoke with a start. He didn’t know why, but he immediately thought of Leah. He sat up and listened. He had been helping Anamiaq cut thick bricks of tundra sod. The man was adding an addition onto his small house since they were to have another baby.

“Leah?” Jacob said aloud. He could have sworn he’d heard her call him. His uneasiness grew. Something was wrong.

He lit a lantern and checked his watch. It was three in the morning. He yawned and tried to figure out what was wrong. Leah was traveling back by ship. Jacob had planned to leave for Nome the next day. Had something happened? Was she all right?

He tried to lie back down and sleep, but it was impossible. He got up and left the tent, checking on the few dogs he’d brought with him. He and Anamiaq had planned to get the sod cut, then wait to transport it until they could bring out the dogsled teams. It wouldn’t be long, given the recent weather. The dogs seemed fine, but they, too, were restless.

“Something wrong?” Anamiaq called out from the tent.

“I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about Leah, and I can’t seem to shake it. I don’t know why, but I just feel like she’s in trouble.”

The heavy cloud coverage and fog obscured the sun and kept Jayce wondering where they were. They had lost track of the other lifeboats sometime in the night, and now they were on their own. Jayce constantly consulted his compass, hoping to get them back to the closest shore, but he figured them to be quite a ways out. He tried to calculate just how many miles out from Sitka they might have been, but the storm had wreaked havoc with any accurate measurements. They were tossed about all over the ocean; they could be closer or they might be farther away. It was impossible to tell without some sort of landmark.