Justin hugged Laurel's legs. “Are we going to sink?”
“I'm sure if something were really wrong an alarm would have sounded.” Luke nodded and leaned against the wall. Laurel walked toward Miram who clung to the railing. Taking a slow, deep breath, she joined the young woman and rested a hand on her arm. She could feel Miram's trembling. “Where's your mother?”
Miram's eyes widened. “I don't know.” She searched the deck. “Do you think she's all right?”
“I'm sure she is.” Pasting on a smile Laurel continued, “And I doubt the boat is sinking. There must be another explanation.”
Clutching Laurel's hands, Miram shook her head. “I don't think there is another explanation.” Suddenly, she dropped to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. “Dear Father in heaven, save us. Please don't let this boat sink.” Tears coursed down her face, and her glasses fogged. Unexpectedly, she opened her eyes wide. “What if there aren't enough lifeboats?”
“Whining isn't going to help,” Laurel said sharply. Miram shut her mouth. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and her chin quivered. Laurel regretted her harsh words. “Miram, I'm sorry. I'm sure there are enough lifeboats. I remember reading that after the Titanic sank, a new law was passed that says all ships must have enough lifeboats for passengers.” She gently lifted Miram off her knees. “It doesn't matter anyway. I'm certain the boat's not sinking.”
“What other reason can there be for water flooding Mrs. Prosser's cabin?”
“We'll know soon. My father will be back any moment, and he'll tell us.”
People were crowding onto the deck, gathering children, and rushing to find life jackets.
Hands trembling, Miram smoothed her hair and resettled her glasses on her nose. “I … I'm sure you're right.” She glanced at the stairway. “I just wish he'd hurry.”
Hoping Miram wouldn't notice her own shaking, Laurel placed an arm around the bird-thin young woman. “We're going to be fine. Everything will be fine.”
Miram nodded, then turned frightened eyes to Laurel. “But what if we are sinking? What'll we do?”
Trying to keep her tone light, Laurel said, “Well, I guess we get into the lifeboats. Land can't be too far away.” She gazed at the rough waters, wondering how many passengers knew how to swim and what would happen to the children. She searched for her brothers. They both sat huddled beside Luke on the deck chair.
Suddenly, the thrum of engines stopped, and Laurel's stomach turned over.
“What's happening?” Miram asked.
The ship's forward progress slowed, then stopped, and they wallowed in the swells. A wave hit broadside and lifted the ship, causing it to list to one side. We are sinking! Laurel's mind screamed.
Miram's eyes opened wide and her face turned ashen.
Will stepped onto the deck. Adam and Robert were right behind him. People closed in around the three and began firing questions. Will smiled reassuringly. “We're not sinking. The captain has everything under control. They'll have the problem fixed in no time.”
“What problem?” Miram asked, pushing through the crowd. “What's wrong?”
“There's a crack in the hull just below the waterline, and water's seeping into …”
“A crack in the hull! Oh, dear Lord! Is the ship breaking up?” a woman shrieked, gathering two little girls close to her.
Purposely keeping his voice low and steady, Will said, “No, the ship's not breaking up. The damage can be repaired. This used to be a navy transport, and there's a diving bell on board. They're going to drop it into the water and fix the tear.”
“They can do that?” Miram asked.
“Yep—according to the captain.” Will looked over the crowd. “The engines have to be shut down while they do the work.”
“More time lost,” a rumpled-looking, heavyset man complained. “First they overloaded us so we couldn't take the Inside Passage. Now this.” He flicked a cigarette butt over the side. “At this rate, we'll miss the drawing for our land.”
“We can't miss the drawing,” a young man with long blond hair said. He stood beside the first man who'd complained.
Will knew frustration was high among the colonists. Some were angry, some disenchanted, and others were frightened. There had been growing apprehension about whether the government could be trusted or not, and it wouldn't take much to get people stirred up. He lifted his eyes to the heavyset man. “It's only a few hours holdup. We'll make it in time for the drawing.”
Bullying his way through the crowd, the man stood in front of Will. “How can you be sure?”
Will met his defiant eyes and held out a hand. “I'm sorry, but we haven't met. My name's Will Hasper.”
The man stared at Will's hand through droopy lids, scrubbed his scraggly beard, then reluctantly shook hands. “Felix Pettersson.”
“Glad to meet you, Felix. We still have four days until the drawing. Captain said we should be on our way in ten to twelve hours. That will put us into Seward in plenty of time to make the train to Palmer.”
“Why should we believe the captain? Why should we believe anybody? The government's bungled this whole thing from the beginning.” Felix lit another cigarette, sucked smoke into his lungs, then blew it in Will's face. “We've been lied to.” He turned and looked at the people gathered around. “We can't trust the government officials or the captain.”
The younger man with the blond hair walked up to Will and peered at him. “He's right, isn't he? Things ain't been the way they were promised. We had no place to sleep on the train. There are no rooms for the men on this boat. Plus, the ship was jammed, and we've had to put up with rough seas. I ain't had a decent night's sleep since I left home.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes. “And now this? A tear in the hull? If we make it, what are we goin' to face when we git to Alaska? Maybe they lied to us about that too? Maybe there ain't no land.” He glanced around at the others. Some nodded. He turned back to Will. “I think we been lied to from the beginning.”
Will's irritation grew. Already the people had forgotten all that had been done for them—gratitude had been replaced by self-interest. Silently he prayed for patience and composure. Meeting the young man's challenging eyes, he asked, “What's your name? I don't think you told me.”
“Ed Ketchum. Up from Mankato.”
“Ed, I have to agree with some of what you say. Some things haven't turned out the way we expected, but most of what we were told has been right.” He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “There were a lot of us to move and lots of belongings. For the most part the food's been good, we were treated real well in Seattle, and here we are only a couple days out of Seward.” He looked out over the crowd. “We've been given free train fare, free passage by boat, free food. And it's been comfortable enough.” Several were nodding. “And about being overloaded—well, we were given weight limits. If we went over, it was our own fault. We should be thanking the government for not forcing us to leave some of our belongings behind.” He waited a few moments, allowing his words to sink in.
“He's right. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves,” Patricia Lundeen said.
“Yeah, like Will said, we should be thanking the government instead of complaining,” Robert added.
“A little thankfulness would take us a lot farther,” Will said. “Even on this ship, we've been kept warm and well fed.”
“Yeah, but how many of us can keep any of the food down?” Felix interjected. “I've been sick since we left Seattle.”
