Woman Overboard

Chapter 7 : Lost (3)

Alessandra

August 27th, 1820

(4:32 AM)

Aless awoke feeling light and airy. She opened her eyes, listening to the loud thrum of her heart as her body settled back into its normal rhythm from her feverish dream.

As always, reality settled back over her like a heavy board, threatening to crush her under its weight. She sighed, listening to Edward snore behind her. His arms were wrapped around her middle, his hands clasped around her stomach. Aless felt a sharp sting of bitterness in her gut: how many times had Daniel settled in for the night with his arms tangled around her just like this? How many times had she awakened to find snores creeping out of his unconscious mouth, his arms swaddling her even in the hottest nights?

Fueled by sleepy petulance, coupled with the sharper but more familiar pain of missing Daniel, she gave Edward a sharp poke on the shoulder. "Get up," she snapped when his eye popped open. "Go back to your room."

"What?" he groaned, blinking sleep away. "What time is it?" He didn't move his arms -- they remained twined around her like a lifeboat tethered to a dock.

"It doesn't matter. Get out of my bed."

Edward groaned again, burying his face in her hip like a child begging his mother for a toy at the corner store. "Don't be like that, Lessie," he murmured into her skin. "Go back to sleep . . ."

At this point, she became impatient. Shoving his away, she hissed, "Git, before you wake up Danielle."

Sighing, Edward got out of bed and shot her a drowsy eyed glance. "See you in the morning, then," he muttered, leaning forward to kiss her. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and Aless neither responded nor pulled away. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring across the room at the porthole above Danielle's mattress until Edward stopped talking to her and left.

Alone again with the warm spot Edward left on the bed, Aless curled up on top of the covers and cried for a couple minutes. When she was done, she dried her eyes on her pillow and stood up to check on Danielle.

She stumbled across the dark room, the rug scratchy and unfamiliar beneath her feet. In her sleepy haze, she expected the desk to be on the opposite wall and ran into it when she took her next step. Remembering The Elizabeth was gone, Aless righted herself and sank to her knees beside Danielle's mattress.

Sweeping her hand over the girl's pillow, she felt a quick surge of panic in her chest. The pillow was cold and dry, smooth and empty of Danielle's head. She patted down the blanket, then threw it aside. Climbing onto the mattress, Aless whispered, "Danielle?" as though her daughter might magically appear beside her if she called her name. "Danielle? Dani?"

Her heart rate quickened to an unhinged series of thumps, crowding her ears like drums vibrating through the streets. Aless stood, nearly tripping over the rug in her haste. She slipped her feet into her borrowed slippers and pulled on the house coat Abigail had given her, vision whitening with panic as she tugged her hair into a bun.

She opened the door slowly, afraid she would find a little body curled up behind it, waiting for her. "Danielle?" she called again. Her voice wavered and broke. In the utter, dark silence that responded, Aless could have been the only person on The Brookes. Fear spread through her, making her nerves sing with tingly numbness.

She inched down the hall, horrible scenarios racing through her head: Danielle walking into the kitchen and stabbing herself with a knife; Danielle wandering to the stairs and climbing up, turbulence throwing her limp body back down them a moment later; Danielle walking the plank; Danielle steering the ship off course.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to walk faster -- she felt certain that if she did, her next step would come down on her beloved's head or her fragile neck. Every few steps, she called out the girl's name again, the echo of her tired, shaking voice fading into nothingness without a response.

"Danielle?" she cried again. "Dani, please. Come back." She felt like sobbing, but kept herself from doing so; she couldn't stand the idea of Danielle, scared and dazed, stumbling down the hall to find her doubled over and crying.

"Aless?"

A shiver ripped down her spine. She began calling her daughter's name again but stopped. That voice was nothing like Danielle's. "Who's there?" she demanded.

" 'S only me," said the voice. "Geez, y'all be getting' so scared jus' cause I'm out in my own damned hallway. You'd think it's a fam'y trait or somethin'."

Aless breathed out. "Afiba?"

"Yes'm."

She sighed in her relief, putting out her arms in the pitch blackness. Her hand closed around Afiba's shoulder. "You scared me," she admitted. Before Afiba could respond, she said, "Have you seen Danielle? I'm looking for her. I was -- she was -- we were just sleeping, and I went to check on her and she isn't in bed. What if she got herself killed by now? This is a huge ship! God knows when I'll find her! Oh, no, what if she fell in that giant empty room below? What if she's at the bottom of the stairs with her neck broken? Oh, I don't know what to do. I'm such a horrible mother--"

"Oh, Lord," Afiba sighed, a hint of a smile in her voice. Next thing she knew, Aless was being squeezed in Afiba's strong, ropy arms. "You needs to relax, lady. Yer li'l girl's jus' fine. She's asleep in my room. Don' get yer panties all twisted o'er it."

A wave of relief crashed over her, knocking her so far off balance that she nearly cried again. "Thank god," she breathed. "Oh, oh god. You have no idea how worried I was."

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Blinking, she saw Afiba' smooth neck in front of her, her torrent of thick curls spilling over her back. Up close, she could see that they were each individual coils, like long helixes spinning down from Afiba's scalp. She smelled of sandalwood and shea. Aless closed her eyes, letting the girl hold her for another moment before clearing her throat and pulling away.

Afiba leaned against the wall, her eyes scanning Aless. "I ain't seen ye since the fight," she observed.

Aless nodded. "True."

"You okay? Mary Anne says you was runnin' some crazy fever back before."

She grimaced, responding in a chilly tone, "I am fine now, thank you for asking."

Afiba put her hands up in surrender. "A'ight, a'ight. Jus' askin', don' get yer chocolate all melty 'bout it."

Aless grinned despite herself. "Chocolate?"

"Ain't nobody like melty chocolate," Afiba said. She turned her head, casting a shadow so Aless couldn't tell if she was smiling.

"Well, I appreciate your concern, but my chocolate is perfectly solid. And my body is a very normal temperature. Now, may I have my daughter back?"

Afiba looked at her again, her eyes wide with conviction. "Oh, yer li'l girl's jus' a doll," she gushed. "I wan'ed to take 'er back, but she just too sweet. I couldn't send 'er away."

She allowed herself to smile back. "She's an angel when she wants to be."

Afiba nodded. "Ah, well," she said, twisting the doorknob. "You can get 'er. She's righ' next to Abby, o'er there."

Aless thanked her and stepped into the room where her daughter slept. And looking down at her sleeping angel face, she knew there could be no better feeling than reclaiming a lost love.