The engine grew louder and louder. Millie couldn’t see it, but she prayed it had seen her. Her arms ached from waving her pajama bottoms around, but the movement had probably kept her from freezing.
“Ahoy!” someone shouted.
She faced the direction of the call but saw only the same dark smears she’d been viewing since the oil slick. “I’m here!” Her throat was too cold to work properly, so she waved her pajamas again.
“Millie?”
“Karl?” She spoke his name but doubted the sound carried more than a few feet.
The engine noises slowed, and the waves slapped against her with a bit more force, though she still couldn’t see the boat.
“Reach for my hand, Millie.” Karl’s voice, she was sure of it.
“I can’t see anything—I’ve got oil in my eyes.”
“Just stretch your arm out.”
She obeyed and felt someone warm grip her wrist, then pull her forward and up. Someone else grabbed her other arm, and then she was lifted from the water and lowered onto something more solid than flotsam.
Karl helped her from her wet jacket and wrapped a dry blanket around her. The engine noises picked up again, and the boat sped forward.
Then Karl’s voice. “Keep your eyes closed for a moment. I’ll see if I can clean the oil off.”
She felt the pressure of something dry moving across her eyelids several times. When he finished, she opened her eyes. Her vision was still blurry on the edges, but she could make out her husband’s face, Billy wrapped in a blanket, and a few men beyond them.
“Better?” Karl asked.
She nodded, then accepted a thermos with something warm. Tea. Not her favorite, but anything warm had to help. While she drank, Karl checked her feet and started rubbing them. “Does this hurt?”
“No, I can scarcely feel them.”
A worried look crossed his face and he continued his work. “I wager the feeling will come back soon, now that you’re out of the drink. And it might hurt.”
She took another sip of tea and felt the warmth go all the way to her stomach. Then she glanced about the boat. One of the men stared at her legs. Her bare legs. She’d forgotten she didn’t have anything covering them. Her pajama shirt went to her hips, and she still wore her panties, but everything not hidden by the blanket was completely bare. “I need to put my pajamas back on.”
Karl chuckled. “No one minds, Millie, except maybe you. We’ve fished out survivors wearing much less, and your legs are quite lovely.”
She threw her wet pajama bottoms at him, and he caught them with a smile, then wrung them out and threaded her goose-fleshed-covered legs into them. She let him do most of the work, then eased them over her buttocks and under the swell of the baby. Once she was modest again, she took another sip of tea.
Karl sat beside her and pulled her in front of him, then moved the blanket to her legs, draped his jacket across her front, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. The warmth of his chest on her back was delightful. “I was praying so hard we would find you.” His whisper danced across her ear.
“I was praying to be found.” She pushed her hair off her forehead and came away with an oily hand. She imagined how awful she must look and groaned. “I may have complained a time or two when I saw the Fireweed weaving through the convoy and couldn’t see you, but this isn’t what I wished for.” She glanced at Karl’s jacket and her blanket-wrapped feet. “I had planned to wear my nicest dress and have my hair done and my lipstick on straight for our next reunion.”
Karl’s arms tightened around her. “I’ve been worried sick about what might have happened to you since we heard the Minstrel’s distress call. Then Jake said your lifeboat was smashed by the ship’s funnel. Not knowing if you’d survived . . . I was terrified, Millie. Trust me, seeing you alive is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Ever.”
“Even with oil smeared on my face?”
Karl took a corner of the blanket and wiped at her cheek. “Even with the oil. Reminds me a little of that smeared lipstick you were wearing the first time we met.”
She laughed. She shouldn’t have. Not everyone had survived the sinking of the Minstrel, but Karl was holding her in his arms. She had probably never looked less desirable in her entire life, but he loved her anyway.
Another ship came into view, still fuzzy for her. “Is that the Fireweed?”
“It is.”
“Well, I suppose this is one way for me to get aboard your ship.” She might be transferred to a different vessel on the convoy, or maybe she’d head back to Liverpool with the Fireweed because they rarely escorted a convoy across the entire Atlantic. Still, even a day with Karl on the Fireweed would be a blessing, something they hadn’t expected. She glanced at the gold band on his left ring finger, and her hope stuttered. “Karl, I lost my wedding ring.”
He kissed her softly on the cheek. “We’ll get another one.” He slid his off his finger and handed it to her. “Take mine for now.”
She slid it on her thumb. It was snug, but she left it for the moment. She could try another finger later.
The launch slowed as it approached the ship. Crewmen from the Fireweed threw lines to the men in the launch. Millie assumed they would raise the lifeboat now that they seemed to be done with the rescue, but instead, they threw down a scramble net.
The lifeboat’s officer looked up with surprise. “Let me find out our orders. They may want us to pick up survivors from the U-boat.”
He scrambled up the net with impressive speed.
“Can all sailors climb ropes that fast?” she asked Karl.
“No, but he hasn’t been stuck in the water for a few hours, and that helps.”
Billy shrugged off his blanket and went next. He wasn’t as fast as the other man had been, not surprising given his stay in the water, but he still proved himself nimble.
She was tempted to wait in the launch with Karl. She wouldn’t be any help pulling U-boat survivors from the water, but at least she would be with him. But if there were others to rescue, she would be in the way, and she ought to get up to the Fireweed as quickly as she could so the launch could continue its mission.
She moved to stand, and Karl rose with her, helping her stay steady on the small boat. She hadn’t stood since leaving the Minstrel, and she felt as if she might fall at any moment.
“We can have them lower a litter if you need it.” Karl held her elbow with one hand and rested his other against her lower back.
“That will take longer, won’t it?”
“Yes, but you just survived a shipwreck. It’s understandable if you’re not feeling up to the climb.”
The officer and Billy had both made it up with ease. She didn’t expect to make the climb with the same alacrity, but she would try. Karl helped her into his jacket, then she grabbed horizontal pieces of rope with both hands and found a spot for her bare feet.
Karl climbed just behind her, probably so he could catch her if she slipped. “When we get aboard, I’ve got some dry socks in my trunk. A few sweaters too. No spare dresses, I’m afraid.”
She smiled. “As long as it’s dry and not covered in oil. I don’t suppose a crew like yours has much in the way of shampoo, do you?”
“Doubt it, but we’ll find something to get the oil out of your hair.”
Millie’s progress was slow, but she was nearly halfway up. The rope hurt her feet—they were starting to regain feeling at the worst possible time. Regardless, she was grateful to be alive and with Karl. He would have watches to keep, of course, but he wouldn’t be on duty the entire time. Even if she was to be transferred to a different ship, she imagined the Fireweed would have a bit of catching up to do before it reached the rest of the convoy.
Hands reached overboard to assist her to the deck: Mr. Tremblay and the officer who had been on the launch with them. Karl came aboard next.
The officer turned to Karl. He kept his voice low, but Millie heard what he said. “That U-boat hasn’t sunk yet.”
Karl nodded. “I’ll be down in ten seconds.”
The officer picked up a heavy-looking case and climbed back over the rails.
Karl put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the mouth. “I love you, Millie. Go get warm. Ask any of the off-duty men to show you my trunk, and take anything you need. I’ll be back soon.”
Then he, too, slipped over the side of the Fireweed’s rails and scrambled back into the launch. She watched him go, ignoring the cold and the commotion of the ship. He turned back to wave as the launch sped away, and only then did she let one of the sailors lead her from the railing.