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“Oh, it is beautiful, isn’t it? Strange, how the sky never looked this perfect from the farm.”

“The farm?”

Her heart quickened, and she fought to think clearly. How could she repair this slip of the tongue? Perhaps she didn’t need to. Maybe she should just open up and tell him the truth. She would start by sharing about her home. “Well, I…yes. Our family owns a farm. It’s a lovely place.”
Lovely
might be a stretch, but emotion welled up inside her as she thought about the home she now missed with a passion.

He nodded. “I’ve always wanted to live in the country. It’s hard to see the stars in New York. But in the country, I would imagine you can practically reach out and grab them.”

“It’s true.” She nodded. “Sometimes I go out to the pasture at night and look up at the stars. They look like candles, lighting the sky.”

A lovely conversation ensued as they walked together, hand in hand. After some time, a delicious silence grew up between them. They paused and gazed upward once again.

“It’s a shame the moon isn’t out tonight.”

“Would have been lovely.” She sighed. “I’ve always wondered what holds it in place.”

“The Lord. With just a word, He keeps all of creation exactly where He wants it to be.”

“Like a puppeteer? With a string?” she asked.

“No. Like an artist, with a paintbrush in hand.”

As Tessa clutched the railing, the wind ran its graceful fingers through her upswept hair and loosened it into fine ribbons around her face. The smell of saltwater lingered in the air, and she breathed it in. She could almost envision the Lord snatching her sins and tossing them into the roiling waves below.

Perfect peace settled over her. She longed to wrap it like a blanket around her. But first, she must relieve herself of the guilt by confessing her shame to Nathan. She would tell him all… and he would help her sort out what could be done about it.

As she opened her mouth to speak, a cry came from the lookout’s nest above.

“What’s going on up there?” Nathan glanced up. The sound of a bell ringing three times pierced the air, followed by heated dialogue from above.

“I don’t know.” She squinted to have a better look but could not make out the figures.

Seconds later, the ship jolted, and she tumbled toward Nathan. He caught her in his arms—a delicious problem—but the strangest sound took her by surprise.

A hideous scraping noise, long and grinding, from well below the railing. A tremor from beneath the deck shook her ever so slightly, and in that same moment, shards of ice sprayed the deck. Several fell around them, and she leaped to her right to avoid being hit.

“W–what was that?” Tessa asked.

“I’m not sure.” He leaned over the railing alongside several others who appeared just as perplexed as they. Behind them, a mammoth piece of ice hovered over the ship, as if daring them to gaze upon it.

“Nathan, did we…?” She shook her head, unable to finish the question.

At once voices began to overlap, as people nearby tried to make sense of what had happened.

“Just a bump, I daresay,” an older fellow said with the wave of a hand.

“Yes, nothing to fear, folks,” one of the crew members called out. “A little berg won’t get in
Titanic
’s way. She’ll show it who’s who and what’s what.” A round of laughter followed from all. A couple of the men picked up the shards of ice and tossed them to and fro like balls.

“Who’s on first, fellas?” one of the men called out and then laughed.

Tessa relaxed and allowed Nathan to slip his arms around her once again. Off in the distance, Mr. and Mrs. Astor strolled by, hand in hand. They paused to speak to another man but seemed content with the explanation that
Titanic
was in no danger from the little scrape with the pesky berg.

“What were you about to say?” Nathan pushed a loose hair out of her eyes.

Her heart quickened. “I wanted to tell you something that’s been troubling me, Nathan. But I think you’d better sit down.” Tessa gestured to a deck chair, and he sank into it as she took the spot next to him, ready to unveil her sin once and for all.

Nathan listened in silence as Jacquie shared her story. Only, she wasn’t really Jacquie, was she? Still, nothing about this made sense. Surely she teased him with this far-fetched tale about her so-called pretense. Yes, Jacquie had quite the imagination and used it even now to draw him in.

On the other hand, the concern in her eyes conveyed such pain, such emotion…

He trembled, half from the cold and half from the realization that she’d played him for a fool over the past few days.

“You’re not making this up?” he asked after she finished her lengthy explanation. He gazed at her tear-streaked face under a starlit sky and prayed she would laugh. Tell him she’d made it all up as some sort of a game. Instead, she shook her head, tears now falling in rapid succession.

“No, Nathan. I–I’m not. Every word I’ve just spoken is true. And I’m so awfully sorry that I—”

She stopped mid-sentence as several crewmen rushed by.

In that moment, a half-dozen things happened at once. Bruce Ismay lit into a heated conversation with one of the crewmen. Several other men appeared from below, and the words “taking on water” rang out. Nathan shook his head, looking back and forth between the men and Jacquie—Tessa—to make sense of it all. Only when he heard the words “Prepare to evacuate!” did the whole thing begin to feel like a horrible nightmare.

Monday Morning, April 15, 1912, 12:05 a.m.

Aboard the
Titanic

Iris sat across the table from Edith Russell in the Verandah Cafe and attempted to focus. All around them, their fellow passengers spoke in animated voices, many speculating about the strange scraping sound they’d heard earlier and the odd tremor they now felt. Then, as the ship slowed, as the brakes sounded
and everything drew still, she realized they must be in some sort of trouble.

Still, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything right now except the conversation she’d just had with Edith. Hours of blissful chatter about fashion had led to the job offer of a lifetime, one she could still scarcely believe. What a perfect way to end her evening.

Or had she imagined it all, along with the quiver of fear that now ran through her as the anxiety in the eyes of surrounding passengers increased? Was the whole thing a murky dream?

“What do you suppose we’ve missed?” Edith rose and walked to the window. She turned back to Iris, her brow wrinkled. “Do you think we’re really in danger?”

“This is the
Titanic
. She’s the ocean’s queen.” Iris tried to steady her voice. She looked around the restaurant, taking comfort in the fact that so many remained at their tables. “Besides, they would let us know if something serious had happened.” Closing her sketch pad, she rose from her seat. “Don’t you think?”

“One would think. But why else would they have stopped? Doesn’t make any sense.”

Just about the time she felt sure the others were overreacting, a wild-eyed young woman rushed into the room and spoke urgently. “They want us on deck. We need to hurry.” As her words rang out, Iris’s breath caught in her throat.

A steward appeared behind the woman; his brow was knitted in obvious concern. “Everyone into your life jackets and then to the lifeboats!”

Iris looked about, noticing that a handful of passengers stayed in their seats, some sipping drinks, others eating.

“It’s just a precaution,” an older fellow muttered. “Really, nothing to worry about.”

“Haven’t they heard? This ship is unsinkable!” the woman across from him said and then laughed.

Edith looked at Iris, her eyes wide, then took several fast steps away from the table and out of the room, muttering something about her pet pig.

Iris shook her head, wondering what sort of woman this new boss of hers might be. Not that she had time to think about it. With the crowd now pressing in around her, Iris felt herself being nudged along. What else could she do but head to the lifeboats?

Monday Morning, April 15, 1912

Just Past Midnight, Southampton, England

Jacquie curled herself into a fetal position in the hotel bed, her heart as heavy as a stone. In a hazy, dreamlike state, she wondered if perhaps the last few days had been merely a horrible nightmare. Would she awaken in her own bed at Abingdon Manor and chuckle at how real it had all seemed, or would the sun rise over Southampton, casting its light on her sin for all to see?

Overcome, she beat her fist into the pillow and tried to pray. Her prayers bounced off the ceiling and slapped her in the face. Surely even God Himself had forsaken her.

She needed answers.

She needed a plan.

Moments later, her thoughts swirling, she sat up in the bed and released a slow, agonizing breath. Only one thing made sense.
With no one to turn to, she would have to go away—away from London, away from Southampton—away from England.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she would go to the White Star Line and purchase a ticket to leave everyone and everything she knew.

Where she would go, she could not say.

Did not care.

She would go somewhere. Anywhere.

Anywhere but here.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Monday Morning, April 15, 1912, 12:10 a.m.

Aboard the
Titanic

Nathan watched as the lifeboats were swung out and lowered from A Deck, where he now stood, frozen in place, both by the cold and the terror that gripped him.

Stay calm, Nathan. Stay calm.

The words “Women and children only!” rang out across the chaos, and he looked on as wide-eyed, terrified passengers in their cork-filled life jackets were marshaled into haphazard lines. A few pushed their way to the front, but for the most part, the women seemed too frighten to board the lifeboats, which dangled precariously over the side of the ship. Many argued with the seamen, insisting they were safer onboard
Titanic
. Nathan could see their point, certainly, but he knew they were better off following the captain’s orders.

He turned to seek out Tessa but could not find her. She must have slipped away through the crowd. He ushered up a frantic prayer for God to keep her safe then turned his attentions back to an elderly woman who needed assistance. When the woman saw the boat swinging to and fro, she cried out, terrified. Another younger woman took her arm and, with a lighthearted voice,
assured her that this was all just a silly precaution. Then she began to rave about the glassy sea and the twinkling stars above.

“It’s just a slight mishap, I’m sure,” the girl said as she helped the woman into the lifeboat. “We must look at this as an adventure. Something we can tell our children and grandchildren about.”

At this point the older woman lit into a conversation about her grandchildren. Minutes later, she was all smiles as she settled into her seat in the lifeboat.

Nathan continued to work alongside several others, convincing the ladies to heed instructions. In the back of his mind, he wondered about Mother. Had she made it safely into a lifeboat? And Jacquie. Er, Tessa. Where was she?