Whirlwind by Cathy Marie Hake Read Free Book Online

glad you offered to pray.” Isabelle sighed. “God would have known I was lying if I said I was thankful for this.”
    Millicent whispered in her sister’s ear, “I’m thankful—after this kind of fare for the passage, it won’t be hard to cinch myself in.”
    “But we paid more for this ship than we would for another because it included meals.”
    Wrinkling her nose, Millicent shuddered. “If you think it smells down here now, just imagine the reek if everyone had brought food with them.”
    Frank bowed his head. “Lord, grant us the strength to endure this voyage and direct us as we embark on a new life. We pray for your protection and providence, and thank you for the warmth of this meal. Amen.”
    “The bowl is warm. It makes my hands feel good.” Millicent continued to cup it in her palms.
    Isabelle arched a brow. “You’re dawdling so I’ll test the first bite.”
    Millicent shook her head. “There weren’t enough spoons. You eat first, then I’ll use your spoon.”
    “Here.” Frank’s arm shot past his wife. “Take mine. You should have told me.”
    “Nonsense.”
    “We’ll share my spoon.” Isabelle took a bite, then passed the spoon to Millicent. “Eat up, Frank. Millie and I are used to sharing, aren’t we?”
    “Indeed.” Millicent scooped up a small bite and plastered on a smile as she lifted the spoon to her mouth. “Mmm—I see a carrot.”
    “Vegetable soup.” Frank’s spoon clanked against his tin bowl. “Not bad. Not half as good as yours, lamb, but nothing ever is.”
    All around them, children huddled on the lowest and highest bunks to eat while their parents stood. Because the other bunks didn’t fold up, the passengers moved the straw mattress off the center bunk and used the wooden board as a table.
    “Fairweather!”
    Since she was closest to the doorway, Millie handed her bowl to Isabelle. “Someone’s calling for me. I’ll go see—”
    “No. I will.” Frank set his empty bowl on the deck. Muttering an apology, he bumped over their knees as he climbed out to the aisle. A moment later he returned. “Millie, the room steward wants your letter of recommendation.” She and Isabelle had to stand up so Frank could raise the lowest bunk to allow her access to her portmanteau. He took the letter and came back. “Isabelle, I want you to pray. Millicent, I’d like a word with you.”
    It wasn’t as if they could find a quiet space and have some privacy. Frank hovered over Millicent and spoke in a low, forceful tone. “The family you went to see—you said nothing.
    Is there something I should know?”
    “Mr. Clark’s a widower traveling with his young son.”
    Frank’s jaw hardened as he pulled away. Then he dipped his head again. “In one cabin?”
    “A suite.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “There’s a parlor with a bedchamber on either side of it.”
    He nodded. “If your bedchamber has a lock on it, you take the job. I want you out of here. With you gone, I’ll do away with the center bunk and Isabelle can sleep on the bottom one without thinking she’s trapped in a casket.”
    “I understand, but I’d want to pray about it.”
    “Isabelle’s already praying. If God wants you to have this job, they’ll send for you.” Frank shifted—more from nervousness than from the boat’s rocking, since his motions didn’t correspond to the Opportunity ’s movements. “It’s not because of the money, Millie. The Lord knows we could use it, but that’s not why. Isabelle frets over you. Knowing you’d be better off would relieve her of so many worries.”
    “Ma’am, if you’re not going to eat that, I will.” A lanky youth stared at the bowls Isabelle held.
    “Of course the ladies are going to eat their soup.” Frank took one of the bowls and pressed it into Millicent’s hands. “It’s warm and filling.”
    At best, the tin bowl felt tepid in her hands.
    Isabelle patted the bunk, inviting Millie to join her. “It’s not hot anymore, but I