Ministering Angel
I am sure Papa and the crew are discussing something quite fantastic above deck which seems a shame to miss, but being in charge of the rescued half drowned boy is quite exciting as well.
"Are you awake?" I ask him in case he is trying to fool me with closed eyes. "Shall I ascertain if you are injured?"
I remove his water logged shoes and stockings, feeling the bones up to the ankle. He makes no sound of protest which is rather dull. I expect to be rewarded with at least a moan for my efforts. Perhaps he shall protest if I check for head contusions?
"Cry out if you are in pain," I say, pushing down hard on his head. He struggles and sits up, spitting up excess sea water.
"Mother!"
"Your mother is not here, but I am." I move from behind the little cot into his line of vision. "Remember up above?" I coax. "We rescued you."
"Miss Swann," he acknowledges.
"Goodness, you don't need to be as formal as all that," I laugh. "Elizabeth will do. May I call you Will?"
He nods. "Did you also find my mother?"
"I don't believe so, though I may be mistaken," I reply. "Papa sent me below deck with you before I really saw much of the action. Don't worry," I add. "Even if you are alone, you can stay with us in Port Royale. My papa is the governor. We live in a very fine house."
"This ship will check for survivors before it moves on?"
"Naturally," I say. "I am sure they are already in the process of doing so."
Will glances toward the little port side window. "What if she doesn't know I am safe?"
"Mamas know things such as that," I say, hopping up to sit beside him on the cot. "My mama always knows if I am well or ill or happy or sad – sometimes without even looking at me. I am sure yours knows you are safe."
"Even if she is in Heaven?"
"Especially if she is in Heaven," I say. "Do you really think you are all alone in the world, Will?"
He nods, biting down on his lower lip. "Mother was all I had."
I hold my hand toward him and Will accepts, damp fingers closing about mine. "Now you have me," I vow. "I shan't promise to be as good as your mama, since mamas always seem to be so terribly good, but I shall promise to be your friend."
Will nods again, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "I shall like that, Elizabeth. Very much."
"Then it is settled," I say. "We shall be the very best of friends, Will. Always."
"Always," he repeats, tightening his fingers about mine.
