Rebecca's Heart (13 page)

And it was time to change all of that. Opening her eyes, a wave of peace washed over her. She’d taken the first step.

“Rebecca?”

Turning around, she saw Mrs. Hutton standing at the top of the staircase. Her normally calm presence had vanished, and her face had paled to the color of ashes.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

Mrs. Hutton leaned against the door frame. “A courier’s just arrived. The
Liberty
was caught in a storm and is lost at sea.”

eleven

Rebecca’s hands covered her mouth as she tried to grasp the news regarding the
Liberty
. She’d listened to the storms that had riveted the coastline and watched the lightning rip through the sky the past few days. Through it all she’d prayed that God’s hand would protect Luke and his crew. But the
Liberty
had gone down. Surely it wasn’t true. Surely this was some kind of mistake. The reality of the situation gripped her like the dark shadows of a nightmare. They’d been gone long enough that the chances of surviving that far out on the sea were too slim to expect any survivors.

The cold wind whipped around her, and she could hardly breathe. In spite of knowing it was over between her and Luke, she’d still held on to a sliver of hope that one day she’d see him again. Now every thread of hope was broken. Closing her eyes, she could see him standing beside her as he’d done the afternoon they gazed out across the sea together. She could feel his lips on hers as he kissed her good-bye. A part of her had dared to dream he would come back for her. Now she’d never know what might have happened between them.

Her eyes filled with tears. As she looked across the choppy waters, the emptiness in her heart swelled.
I miss you so much, Luke, and I’ll never be able to tell you …

Rebecca felt Mrs. Hutton’s fingers grasp her arm, drawing her back into the present. The older woman opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“What is it?” Rebecca’s heart pounded in her throat. “Is there news about Luke from the survivors?”

Mrs. Hutton nodded slowly, her breaths coming in short spurts. Rebecca didn’t want to know the details of how he had died. Surely being swept into the ocean had been terrifying beyond imagination. If he’d been injured and had suffered during his last moments alive, she’d rather not know.

“Luke was—” Mrs. Hutton’s fingers grew tighter around her arm. “He was rescued by another vessel.”

“What?” Rebecca’s eyes widened at the life preserver of hope Mrs. Hutton had thrown her.

“He’s injured but alive. I’ve arranged for him to be brought here to the house immediately.”

Tears of relief flooded down Rebecca’s cheeks as she clung to Mrs. Hutton. Luke was alive! After a moment Rebecca pulled away, her ears still ringing from the news. He might be alive, but how badly was he injured? Surely God wouldn’t save him from the sea only to take him from them now.

“Has he seen a doctor?” Rebecca asked.

“Only aboard the ship that rescued him. I’ve sent someone to go and get Dr. Neil, who is an old family friend.”

Rebecca blinked, not knowing what to think. If he was alive, she had to see him. “What can I do to help?”

“Could you stay here for a while? I have no idea of his condition, and if it’s life threatening—”

“Of course I’ll stay. Please, just tell me what you need me to do.”

While relieved at the older woman’s response, Rebecca realized the request had nothing to do with her and her feelings for Luke. Patience Hutton was a mother awaiting the return of her injured son with no real clues yet as to his condition. She’d lost a husband to the sea and now was faced with the possibility of losing a son, as well.

Rebecca sat in an oval-back chair in the upstairs hallway while Mrs. Hutton paced the tan plush carpet. It had been over an hour since Luke had been brought into the house then whisked away behind the closed door of his bedroom. Rebecca had begged God for Luke’s healing while struggling to read through a number of the Psalms. For now she had no more tears to shed. Only a quiet desperation that filled every corner of her heart. He might have been rescued from the sinking ship, but whether he would survive the night was still in question.

At half past four the doorbell rang. The housekeeper had already dealt with a number of callers, and Rebecca was certain that news regarding the sinking of the
Liberty
had spread quickly across Boston.

One of the maids appeared at the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hutton. We’ve thanked and sent away the other callers, but this gentleman says he’s the captain of the vessel that rescued your son.”

“Tell him I’ll be down immediately.” Mrs. Hutton clutched her hands to her chest and turned to Rebecca. “Please, come with me.”

Rebecca’s stomach churned as she followed Mrs. Hutton down the stairs, anxious for more details of what Luke had gone through. She’d only caught a glimpse of him, and from his colorless features it was obvious his condition was serious. Assurances that Dr. Neil was one of the best physicians in Boston did little to relieve her fears, as she was convinced that only a miracle could save Luke now. And a miracle was exactly what she was praying for.

As they entered the parlor, an older man dressed in a simple black suit stood waiting to greet them. “Mrs. Hutton? My name is Vincent Sawyer, captain of the
Marella
.“

“Mr. Sawyer.” Mrs. Hutton grasped the balding man’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for taking the time to stop by. May I introduce Rebecca Johnson, a family friend?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Johnson.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca shook the captain’s hand then took a seat on the sofa, anxious over the impending news.

“Won’t you please sit down, Mr. Sawyer?” Mrs. Hutton motioned to a chair for the captain before sitting down on the sofa next to Rebecca. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve come with news regarding my son and the loss of the
Liberty
?”

Mr. Sawyer leaned forward in the chair. “Your son is one of the fortunate few who were able to survive in the open sea.”

Mrs. Hutton held a handkerchief to her lips and exhaled deeply. “Please tell me everything. What I’ve heard so far has been extremely vague.”

“Apparently the
Liberty
sailed into the storm a couple of days ago. Details are still sketchy, but I was on my way back from England to the Boston harbor when we came across five men who were holding on for their lives on one small lifeboat.”

“How long was my son out there?”

“I can’t be sure of the time line, ma’am. A number of unseasonable yet vicious storms have swept through the area these past few days, and any one of them had the potential to damage a ship.”

“And my son’s injuries?”

Rebecca leaned forward, listening intently to the man’s words. She could hardly stand the fact that Luke lay upstairs fighting for his life and there was nothing she could do.

“I’m not a medical expert, ma’am,” the captain explained, “but our ship’s doctor did care for him on our return. I know his leg is injured, and he’s been unconscious off and on since he was first hauled aboard our ship.”

“And the other men?”

“While we were able to rescue only five of the crew, I believe they will all pull through. I’ve just been to see Captain Taft’s wife. Unfortunately, the captain didn’t make it.”

Mrs. Hutton stared out the window. “I lost my husband over twenty years ago. I’ve always feared I’d lose my son, as well.”

“Then you’re fortunate God chose to save your son this time.”

Two hours later Rebecca stared at the bowl of vegetable soup the cook had set before her at the dining room table. Mrs. Hutton had insisted Rebecca eat something, but so far she’d been able to take only one bite. On any other occasion she would have enjoyed the simmering bouquet of nourishment, but not today. Instead it was tasteless as her stomach churned from the morning’s events. The doctor’s report had been far from encouraging. At some point during the storm, Luke’s left leg had been crushed. It was a miracle he’d survived the open sea for any length of time. She’d overheard whispers of amputation and shivered at what that would do to Luke. He was a man who thrived on physical work. What would the loss of an extremity do to him?

Rebecca looked up as Mrs. Hutton entered the room, her face thin and pale. Fear tightened the muscles of Rebecca’s stomach as she dreaded news of Luke’s worsening condition.

“How is he?”

“He’s still asleep.” Mrs. Hutton said. “I’m worried, Rebecca.”

Rebecca worked to hold back the tears, wanting to stay strong for Mrs. Hutton’s sake. Inside, though, she felt anything but strong. The doctor had left an hour ago with assurances that he’d return before nightfall. For now, they could do nothing else but wait. And the waiting was excruciating.

“Why don’t you have the cook get you something to eat?” Rebecca pushed back her bowl of soup. “You need to eat to keep up your strength.”

“So do you.” The older woman grasped the back of the mahogany armchair at the end of the oval table. “I don’t think I can stomach anything to eat, but a cup of hot tea might help calm me.”

“I can’t eat either.” Rebecca stood from the table. “Why don’t you let me sit with Luke while you rest for a while? You’re exhausted and won’t be of any help to him if you become ill.”

She expected an argument, but instead Mrs. Hutton nodded. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. I promise to call you if he wakes up.”

Rebecca headed for the doorway but stopped when Mrs. Hutton continued. “Have you ever lost anyone close to you?”

“My mother died giving birth to my sister.” Rebecca leaned against the door frame, feeling the stinging pain from dredging up the old memories. “I was thirteen years old.”

Mrs. Hutton pulled out a red and gold porcelain cup and saucer from inside the reed-inlaid sideboard. “Then you know how it feels to lose someone you love. Someone you can’t imagine living without.”

“Like your husband?”

“I still miss him.” Mrs. Hutton laid the delicate pieces on the table and sat in one of the chairs. “Our marriage wasn’t perfect, of course, but we did love each other deeply.”

“I’m sure he was a wonderful man.”

“He was, but marrying a sailor brings its own difficulties. I would never have admitted it to Isaac, but there were moments when I wanted him to leave on the next voyage and never come back. Our time apart was so difficult.”

“All marriages have their own set of adjustments, but what you went through had to be extremely hard.”

Mrs. Hutton nodded slowly, not bothering to sweep back the strand of silver hair that had once again fallen out of place. “The last time I saw him before he left on the
Annabella
was early on a misty autumn morning. I was mad at him over some silly misunderstanding we’d had the night before, but at the time I was stubborn and didn’t want to believe our argument was partly my fault. When he kissed me that last morning, I let him walk away without saying good-bye to him. How could I have been such a fool? I never saw him again.”

The room was silent for a moment. Rebecca bowed her head and studied the intricate pattern in the Oriental rug. She’d seen the pain of past mistakes etched into the creases around the older woman’s eyes, but what could she say that would make a difference?

“I’ve never forgiven myself for wishing he wouldn’t return,” Mrs. Hutton continued. “For months after his death, I blamed myself, somehow thinking God heard my grumbling and decided to teach me a lesson.”

“God doesn’t work that way.”

“I know He doesn’t, but sometimes my heart has a hard time accepting what I know is true.”

“How well I understand that.” Rebecca let out a deep sigh. She had no doubt that God had never left her; yet how easy it was to feel the void of His presence when things became difficult and the answers seemed so far away.

Mrs. Hutton traced her index finger around the rim of the empty cup. “I told you earlier that life isn’t always easy, but it’s the painful experiences that have taught me the most. Realizing Isaac wasn’t coming back after the horrid things I said to him was one of those instances that took me years to work through. I think that’s why I’ve always encouraged Luke to follow in his father’s footsteps—maybe too much—but I haven’t wanted the guilt from my own past to stop him from doing what he wants to do.”