1884
The ship’s deck rolled under his feet, and he widened his stance to protect his balance and the toddler in his arms. Where was she? He’d been from one end of the steamer to the other. Laura was nowhere to be found. He shifted the sleeping child and eyed the black clouds hovering low on the horizon. A lighthouse winked in the darkening seascape. The wind whipped the waves into a frenzy and tore at the masts. The boat fell into a trough, and the stern rose as the bow tipped. He grabbed at the railing for support. A rumble came to his ears. Thunder? Deckhands rushed by him, and he caught the faint stench of smoke.
“Fire!” a man shouted. “There’s been an explosion!”
He turned to see smoke pouring from the hold. People milled on the deck, and crewmen rushed to lower the lifeboat. He grabbed the arm of a passing crewman and shouted over the howling wind. “The pretty woman with the red hair in a pompadour. Have you seen her?”
“She’s gone. Left first thing this morning before we left the dock. This ship is going down, mate. Get on the lifeboat now!” The man jerked his arm away.
He watched the crewman rush to help panicking passengers into the lifeboat. Gone. How could she leave without a word? Laura would never leave her child. Other people streamed by him on their way to safety, but he stood rooted to the deck until the little girl in his arms whimpered.
“Mama,” she said. “Papa.”
He studied her eyes, so like her mother’s. “We must get you to shore,” he said. His purpose found, he strode to the lifeboat. Wide-eyed passengers crammed every seat. Some had other people on their laps. There was no room. Not for him.
He held up the little girl. “Please, someone save her!”
“Hurry, mister!” a crewman yelled. “Throw her into the boat.”
A woman held out her arms. “I’ll take her.”
Julia clutched him and wailed. “It’s okay, darling,” he soothed. He kissed her smooth cheek, then lowered her into the woman’s arms. The woman had barely settled the child when the steamer lurched and shuddered. It began to break apart as the lifeboat hit the roiling waves. He watched the men in the boat strain at the oars, but the waves swamped it, and it was making little headway.
He couldn’t stay here or he’d go down with the steamer. Shucking his morning coat and shoes, he climbed to the rail and dived overboard. Cold salt water filled his mouth and nose. He struggled to the surface and gulped in air before another wave caught him. The fury of the current took him under again, and he lost track of how many times he managed to snatch a breath before being thrust toward the ocean floor once more. A dozen? A hundred?
Finally his knees scraped rock, and a wave vomited him from the sea to the shore. Nearly unconscious, he lay gasping on blessed ground. He swam in and out of darkness until his brain regained enough function to remember Julia. His stomach heaved seawater onto the sand, and the retching brought him around. He managed to get on his hands and knees and stayed there a few moments until his head cleared and he could stumble to his feet. He gawked at the devastation scattered across the beach.
The sea had torn the lifeboat to splinters. Bodies and debris lay strewn up and down the coast. Shudders racked his body, and he lurched along the rocks. “Julia!” he called. The wind tossed his words back at him. She had to be alive. He ran up and down the littered shore but found no trace of the little girl he loved nearly as much as he loved her mother.