Page 20 of Only By Grace
“It appears the rain has stopped. Would you care to stroll about the deck? Most of the men are down below at their own meal.” He told himself it was a brotherly offer, something hissister might have enjoyed. That must be the reason for his stupidity, though it did little to settle his unease.
“If the rain has ceased, then I would love some fresh air.”
He held out a hand to help raise her to her feet, then handed her the oilcloth she had used from before to wrap her in warmth. “It will be cool on the deck, though no breeze.”
The smell of fresh rain mixed with brine was pleasant after being cooped up in the cabin. The deck was slick beneath their feet, the faint creaking of the ship the only sound to accompany the distant lap of water against the hull. Darkness enveloped them, save for the faint lantern glow. The damp night air sent a shiver through her, and he could feel her tremble even beneath the oilcloth. He led her to the bow, where the waters lay eerily still, disturbed only by the ship’s gentle sway.
“Look up, lass,” he commanded softly.
Her sharp intake of breath filled him with a quiet satisfaction that he was showing her something she’d never seen before. Her wonder mirrored his own every time he had the chance to marvel at the stars over an unbroken expanse of sea.
“Have you ever seen stars like this before?” He looked up and held his hands towards the sky.
She shook her head, her voice hushed with awe. “It is magical.”
“There’s nothing like the stars out on the water. They burn brightest when there’s no moon.”
He glanced towards the horizon, his thoughts briefly turning to the absence of moonlight. There being no moon worked against them moving more quickly, but he did not go into the tides and all of their idiosyncrasies. He was still hopeful the wind would at least be enough for them to start moving by morning.
“There are so many of them.” She pointed towards the long streak of brightness. “It looks like a long, shining cloud with an explosion behind it, frozen in time.”
“Greek mythology says that Zeus named it the Milky Way for the milk from his beloved Hera.”
“It seems so much more magnificent than that name. Milk is too common.”
“It was some thousands of years before. Perhaps there were not yet the words.”
“True. And I am not certain I could come up with anything better myself. I am not sure there are words adequate to describe it now.” Grace turned to look at him. “How are those tiny, twinkling stars suspended in the sky so far away, and we are still able to see them?” she asked, her voice tinged with childlike curiosity. Her innocent delight in one of his favourite things was intoxicating.
Ronan could not answer the question for which no one knew. “There are things even sailors and astronomers cannot explain,” he admitted. “But that there are so many, and so constant, makes them our most reliable guides. Stars are the map we follow when all else fails.”
She stared in silence for a long moment. “It’s humbling, is it not? To think of how small we are—mere specks in the universe.”
“Like a star,” he murmured, though his voice carried a weight that hinted at a deeper meaning.
“Thank you,” she said, so softly he barely caught it. “You could have left me in the cabin, but you did not. I do not know if I shall ever have the chance to see something like this again. I will treasure it.”
Her gratitude both warmed and shamed him. ’Twas such a simple thing, and yet it had meant so much to her. “I count myself fortunate to be able to experience these things that many never will. Not everyone is able to understand the majesty—the infinity of what they are seeing. If I ever need to be humbled, the sea and sky are reminders of how powerless we truly are,” hesaid after a moment. “The sea hasn’t shown her full temper yet. It’s hard to imagine her when she’s angry.”
“Perhaps I should try to speak with the sea goddess to pacify her,” Grace suggested.
Ronan arched a brow but said nothing, letting the remark pass. Yet her next words struck a chord.
“I admit to your men terrifying me. It is as though they think I am a witch and wish to throw me in the water to see if I sink or float. Is there anything I can do to convince them otherwise?”
“Lass, nothing short of you commanding the winds to begin and having a smooth sail all the way home will convince them. ’Tis best to keep you away from them.”
Her crestfallen expression caught him off guard. Clearly, she was unaccustomed to being disliked. It would be something for her to become accustomed to Irish ways and superstitions and sailors at that. He found himself softening his tone, despite the truth of his words. “The winds should shift soon. By morning, I believe we’ll be moving again with the next tide.”
“Are you only saying that for my benefit?”
“Mine as well.”
A silence fell between them, broken only by the gentle lap of the water against the ship. For once, he allowed himself to bask in the rare peace of the moment, the sky above and her quiet presence beside him.
“How did you begin sailing?” she asked after a time.
Ronan pondered how to answer that. “I grew up on the bay. Water is a way of life for everyone there. Mostly fisherman,” he replied, leaving out the darker ventures.
