Will stood outside the bridge, watching as tugs by the Dalian docks trundled up and the hands started to throw lines down. It had been a good trip, relatively smooth seas and brisk weather. Although it seemed a bit more brisk here, and he rubbed his hands together. He'd be warm enough soon, and Ana probably had a great big pot of beef stew waiting. With fresh bread and butter, a glass of whiskey and a roaring fire he would be quite content. Not to mention that soon enough he'd have Ana waiting for him in his bunk while he attended to his duties. Now if there was anything to make a man deal with inspections, it was that as a reward.
He didn't see the carriage when the tugs had them positioned at the dock, but that wasn't unusual. While Ana usually was waiting for him she sometimes had other things to attend to and couldn't greet him. So he simply shrugged and got on with his duties. They weren't as involved as his duties when they were at sea, but they served to keep him occupied. He made sure that the cargo was getting unloaded, that the engineer was seeing to inspecting the engines in case any work was needed while they were in, and he even made his way though the passenger quarters to ensure that the stewards were seeing to the few cabins that had been booked.
It was late afternoon by the time he finally threw his seabag over his shoulder and headed down to the dock. He looked around the various trucks and wagons that had swarmed, looking for the carriage. The offices always sent a note to Ana when he came in so she could send it for him, but it appeared that she hadn't sent someone to pick him up. What he saw though was Mrs. Dalian's car and her driver scanning the crowd. He waved his hat when he saw him, "Mr. Murdoch, over here!"
"What are you doing here?" Will wasn't angry, simply curious. Maybe Ana was dining with Ruth tonight and wanted him to join them.
"Mrs. Dalian's orders, sir." The driver opened the door for him. "Mrs. Murdoch's left town and everything's in a mess."
Will paused on the running board, his heart plummeting. "She's gone?"
"Yes sir, there was," The driver paused for a moment, "There was a storm and she took off, hardly leaving word for Mrs. Dalian. She needs to see you, could you please get in sir?" Will nodded, then pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and groaned. Ana had run off, because of a storm? Why would a storm send her running? Where did she go? He settled back onto the seat as the driver lurched them through the streets of New York. He bit his lip, thinking. Ana had left word on where she was going, he could find her. He had time, and he had the resources to go after her. She had left word with Ruth, that had to be about why she was leaving and where she was going. He could go find her, in fact he would.
Will nodded to the driver when he left him off outside Mrs. Dalian's house, a footman darting forward to take his bag. Rigby directed him to the parlor, where he saw Mrs. Dalian anxiously sewing before a fire. He paused, "Ruth, what happened?"
"William!" She stood, setting her sewing aside. "Come take a seat, you must be exhausted." Will nodded, sitting across from her. A low table had been set with a late lunch, and he tore off a piece of bread. Ruth settled herself back down, pursing her lips. "I don't know how to put this."
He swallowed the bread. "Then just say it. Where is Ana?"
"Port Huron, Michigan. She's at our offices there." Ruth picked up a piece of bread herself, tearing it into little pieces. "She sent me word once she got there, but the wires are all frozen and some collapsed so it's been difficult to hear from her."
Will's brow furrowed. "What's she doing in Michigan?"
She ate some of her bread before answering. "A storm, a hurricane really, blew through the lakes and oh, it's terrible." Ruth paused for a moment, her breath unsteady. "So many ships were lost, including one of ours."
The bread seemed to stick in his throat. "Any survivors?"
"I don't think so," Ruth looked to the fire, "But we haven't gotten any firm word, we barely knew the ship was lost until Ana got there. The telegrams were all garbled, all we knew was something was wrong and that they thought she was just missing. I wanted to send Adam, but Ana barely let me get a word out before she had packed a carpetbag and ran." Her eyes were too bright when she looked back to him, "She didn't even take Louise or Rigel, she just bought a ticket on whatever train was headed that way."
"Christ." Will cursed, standing. "Do you have anything to drink?"
There was a clink of glass on glass, and a brandy was quickly in his hand. "Here, I poured one for myself too. I need you to go after her Will, she shouldn't have gone."
"You're damn right she shouldn't have left." He shook his head. "I'm sorry Ruth, that was badly done."
"No, you're right. She shouldn't have left and I should have had someone stop her." Ruth joined him at the fire, sipping the brandy with far too much ease. "But she's been rather out of sorts since you left, and this was the first time she had really acted like herself. I suppose I just wanted to indulge her, but I thought she'd at least take the rail car."
Will glanced over, seeing so much of his wife in her mother. That tilt of her head, the braid of golden hair, and the way her fingers curled around her glass. He took a healthy swallow, "Out of sorts? In what way?"
"Well, you know she gets when its her womanly time." Ruth pursed her lips. "But she hasn't had any callers since the costume ball and she's been down at the offices a lot. Peggy has said she's been after the wine a bit too much, but I just thought she was exaggerating. But when I was over at the dock house when we were trying to get word from Port Huron I watched her, she drank glass after glass and it seemed to hardly affect her." Will groaned, something was definitely wrong. Ana usually kept herself fairly sober, never drinking to excess, but this was not normal.
He tossed back the last of his brandy. "I'll catch the next train out."
"No, you'll head home and get some sleep." Ruth raised a brow at him. "I've already got the car hooked to the first train headed out in the morning, you'll be taking it out and back, with my daughter on your return. It won't be an easy trip, the rail lines are a mess."
"I can deal with it." Will turned around, "I will bring her back, Ruth."
"I'm quite sure you will, I'll have the driver take you over." All it took was a few simple words for his bag to be brought and a sandwich pressed into his hands for the ride over. The house looked alright from the outside but he could tell things were wrong as soon as he stepped inside. Rigel was immediately at his feet, whining and twining around him.
He knelt down to pet him, "I can't believe she left you."
"Neither can I!" Peggy, her voice sharp, cut in. "And not a single servant, oh I just don't know what I'll do to her when she gets back."
Rigel still stuck to Will when he stood, "I'll bring her back, Peggy."
"I'm not worried about that in the slightest!" She sharply gestured to his bag, bringing a footman forward to take it. "I just thought she had been raised better than this."
He shook his head. "Peggy, I'll handle it. Now, can you have some dinner brought up to the room? I'm going to need an early start."
"Of course," She turned for the kitchen. "I'll have Reggie pack you a bag, and one for her too. It sounds as if it's awfully cold out there."
Will was tired, bone tired, but he forced himself to go on, trudging through the snow covered streets. It felt like he'd walked the whole route from New York to Port Huron, pacing the private car as it was shunted from rail line to rail line. Not only to get to the city, but to avoid the damage from the storm. Snowdrifts the height of a man, felled trees across the line, he had gotten headache trying to deal with it. In addition to the fact that all these changes had taken three days to get him here, and his wife having run off with barely a word, well it was enough to exhaust any man. So here he was, bundled up in a coat, covering the suit he'd been wearing since New York, and an even thicker coat over that.
It was much needed, the wind was still biting at his ears and he tugged the scarf he was wearing up higher until it met his hat. This kind of cold was something he'd never thought to experience again, not after that April night, but Michigan seemed determined to make sure he was utterly miserable. Standing on a street corner, seeing his breath steaming out from his scarf, he felt like he was back on the lifeboat. Shivering, soaked to the bone and feeling like it would be just so easy to fall asleep. A car horn nearby shook him out of it. He started moving again. Ana, he was here for Ana, his wife who had rushed off without a word for this icy hellhole. It helped to focus on her, to remind himself that he was here for her. He was here to be here for her, see that she was safe and take her home.
Fortunately, he could see the Dalian offices rising along the docks, although he felt a chill go down his spine as he approached, one that had nothing to do with the weather. Everything felt far too familiar to New York, back after the sinking. The hunched shoulders of men bustling back and forth, looking out to the lake every now and then, the closely drawn blinds over the windows, the families that he could see trail past every so often, looking for something, or someone. He looked out at the lake, stunned for a moment at what he saw. He had always known the lakes were big, but seeing them in person was another thing. It looked like an entire ocean, and waves even lapped at the docks. The ones he assumed belonged to the Dalian offices were empty, and he turned for the brick building.
He glared at the eye that answered his knock at the door, "Mr. Murdoch, here to see my wife."
"Very funny, sir." The clerk behind the door grunted. "We're not accepting visitors at the moment, given all that's happened."
"I understand," Will shoved a foot into the crack, stopping the man from slamming it shut. "But, like I said, I am looking for my wife. Anastasia Murdoch, née Dalian. You might know her, she owns the company you work for."
"And how am I supposed to know that you're actually her husband?" The clerk pulled the door back and slammed it on Will's foot, or rather he would have if he had not shoved his way past the door. "Hey!"
Will bulled past the clerk, looking around. "I just want to find my wife." By now, these offices all started to blend together in his mind. This one was hardly busy, only a few other men milling about the usual fittings. Counters in the first floor, with clerk desks behind them and stairs leading up to the higher ups offices. Will started up them, grateful for the fact that the offices at least were warm.
The clerk yelled after him. "I'm calling the police!"
"You do that." Will grumbled, gaining the landing. It was almost eerie how quiet it was in the building, although given what had happened, he wouldn't have wanted to be working at the moment either. Still, he kept on making his way down the hallway, thinking about beginning to check in each office he passed when he heard a cry that sent a nail through his heart. "Ana!" His hand was shaking when he got ahold of the doorknob he was sure the scream had come from, his eyes frantic as he searched the meeting room he entered. He could see a few older men at one end of a large table, a woman crumpled over at the head of it, blonde hair spread across the table. It was rather messy and looked as if it hadn't been washed in a few days, but he would know that head of hair anywhere. He couldn't count how many times he had run his hands through it, how many kisses he had pressed to it when she was asleep.
"I'm sorry, sirs, he rushed right past me." The clerk from before was behind him, but his eyes were only for Ana, bent double and he could see her shoulders shaking.
Ignoring the men around her, he pushed past them. "Ana, love." He brushed a hand over her hair, "Look at me, please, love." She made no movement, although he was immensely concerned by how fast she was breathing. He looked to the closest man, no doubt a manager or something. "What did you tell her?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "Only that a few items have been recovered from the Hugh Porter, life rings, lifebelts." He glanced down. "And a lifeboat, damaged and empty. No bodies, and we're not hopeful."
A moan came from the woman in front of him, and Will clasped his arms tighter around her. "Shhh, love. It's alright." He soothed, looking to the men around him. "I'm taking her to rest, where is she staying?"
"Who are you?"
"I'm her goddamn husband," Will fairly growled at him, but softened when he felt Ana slip her arms around his neck. He held her close. "You're damn lucky she hasn't fainted."
"She's at the Port Huron Hotel, I'll call for a cab." He looked to the others. "Leave them the room."
Will waited until the door was shut to speak, encouraging her to sit up. "Ana, darling, how long have you been here?"
She shifted in his arms, so that he could see her face. It was pale and drawn, the skin around her eyes dark from exhaustion. "Days? I'm not sure Will, we've been trying to get any word from out on the lakes. I've only gone back to the hotel to sleep." He had meant how long she had been at the offices, but looking at her he could have believed that she had spent days in this room. He could practically see her ordering those men about, trying to get any information she could.
"And what were you thinking, rushing off like that with not even a trunk?" He couldn't help the anger in his voice, although he tried to temper it. "Your mother was frantic, and it wasn't exactly the most pleasant news to return to." He ran a hand up and down her back. "But you should have at least taken Louise."
"I know."
"Or Rigel."
"I know."
Will chuckled. "It took Taylor everything he had to hold him back from coming after you with me." She made a slight noise at that, not a laugh or a snort but better than she had been. "Now, you're coming with me, eating until you're full, and sleeping the entire night."
She leaned heavily on him as they started down the stairs, her feet clumsy. "Did they tell you what happened?"
"That a ship was lost." Will pulled her closer to him as the clerk from before held open the door, making sure that they did not slide on the icy ground as they got into the taxi. "One of ours, I mean. It sounds like a great many ships were lost during the storm."
Ana nodded, her brown eyes blurry with exhaustion. "Yes, it's been bad." They slid past him to look out the window. "Thirty men, Will. Thirty men are dead, because of me, because of my company."
He pulled her closer to him. "You did not kill them, you know that." He remembered how Ana had repeated that to him after the sinking, that he had not sunk the Titanic and had done everything he could to avoid it. He could repeat her arguments back to her by heart.
"But I couldn't stop it either." She sighed, burrowing into his shoulder. "The weather reports, Will. My God, I've never seen such forecasts. And they came too late." She was sniffing again, and Will wrapped her up in his arms, soothing her and praying to God that she didn't faint because he was unsure if he could carry her across the icy ground.
"Ana," He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "You need to rest, it will all seem better in the morning." The hotel took some time to reach, what with the icy roads. Eventually, though, he was helping Ana into the lobby and tucked the room key the concierge extended into a pocket. It seemed a well appointed place, if rather plain compared to New York. The room Ana had been given was spacious, with a large fireplace in front of the bed, a few radiators putting out a welcome heat and a huge window taking up almost the whole of one wall. He deliberately ignored the table by the fireplace that was covered in newspapers and written reports. Will settled Ana onto the edge of the bed, brushing her hair back. "Now, let's look at you."
Her eyes were distant, her face was drawn and the hand that she brought up to cover his was weak. "I'm fine, Will."
He snorted. "Hardly, now, let's get some light in here. It's as dark as a cave." He moved to the curtains, drawing them back and found himself stunned by the sight before him. "Ana, what is that?"
"Ah," He heard her stand and come up beside him. "The Hawgoode, she beached during the storm. Quite something, isn't she?"
"Yes," Will stared at the massive red and white ship sitting placidly on the beach as waves broke around her. She was unlike any ship he had ever seen, a wheelhouse in front and a stretch of flat deck that seemed to go on forever before another house at the back rose up. God, he couldn't imagine trying to pilot one of these, she would handle like a tub. She looked more like a barge than an actual ship. Will looked over to his wife. "Is that what-"
"The Porter looked like?" Ana cocked her head, considering it for a moment. "She was a bit shorter, but yes." Her voice was far too quiet for his liking. "Most lake freighters do, they call them straight deckers. You should see the reports we get for how much cargo can be loaded in them."
"And their engines?" He squinted at the aft of the Hawgoode, seeing only one funnel.
She sighed. "Weak, compared to what you're used to. Only one, housed in the stern. Some of our other captains said they could barely keep their bows in the wind because of them, I've insisted that on the replacement ship we have turbines, preferably two."
"You're already ordering a replacement?" He couldn't help the shock in his voice as he looked to her.
She shook her head weakly. "Not my idea, discussions were already in progress when I arrived. At first they ignored me," The smile that graced her face made her look like the Ana he loved. "But then I pointed out that I controlled the purse strings. So it will be turbines, and wireless systems and operators on all the ships."
"They didn't have wireless?" That baffled Will, they would probably both be dead if it hadn't been for the wireless men on Titanic.
"No, apparently they're worried about other companies listening in." The weakness was back in her. "I think I shocked them when I told them they could shove that excuse right up their ass. All of my ships will have wireless, with multiple operators." She laughed sadly at that. "Every ship with wireless stayed in, not a one lost."
Will sighed, pulling the curtain back over the window. "We can look at her later, for now I want you in a hot bath while I arrange for food to be sent up." Part of him wanted to offer to help her out of her shirtwaist and skirt, but she merely sighed and moved off to the bathroom. While Ana bathed he set the fireplace alight, went down to the lobby and arranged for a tureen of stew to be sent up, and brought an armful of blankets back with him. A bellboy was dispatched to bring the bags from the rail car, and to send a telegram to Ruth. He spread the blankets over the bed just so, and was fluffing the pillows when Ana emerged in her dressing gown. Her hair was hanging wet down her back, but her color was better. He smiled, "There, much better. And dinner will be here soon."
She chuckled slightly, "You're a fussy mother hen, you know that?"
"You should just be glad I haven't sat on you." Will replied playfully, pulling her to the bed. "Although I may tomorrow if you insist on going back to the offices." It seemed she considered it for a moment, but shook her head. He cleared off the table, deliberately not reading any of the headlines as he cleared a space for the tureen a bellboy brought and a couple of bowls. The hotel had sent up a bottle of wine with it, but Will set it aside. "I think we can stick with water tonight." The bags were placed by the door, and Will gladly slipped out of his jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat before sitting down to dinner.
Ana shrugged as he poured them both water, "If you like." He pursed his lips at that, he had expected her to fight him on it, but he quickly ladled them both a bowl of the steaming beef stew. Will watched her eat, he hardly tasted the his own food he was so focused on her. She nibbled at the potatoes, sipped at the broth and poked at the chunks of beef.
He set his spoon down. "Ana, eat. You need your strength."
"I'm just not hungry." Her spoon clinked against her bowl. "I've eaten enough."
"Hardly, you've barely touched it." Will leaned back in his chair, "And I'm not letting you go to sleep until you've eaten that bowl and another." He waved at his own empty bowl, "So, go on, eat up."
"You need to eat too." She mumbled, but Will watched as she deliberate ate every piece of stew. He ladled out another helping, and pushed it towards her. She looked down at it, "Make yourself another bowl."
"Will you eat if I do?"
"Yes."
He was all smiles as he did, scraping up the last of the broth from the tureen and filling his bowl. "Very well, and then it's straight to bed. For the both of us." He tasted the stew more this time, the sharp garlic and mellowed onions, and the peppery taste of the broth. It was rather perfect for a cold night. Once both bowls were clean he piled them outside for the hotel, and considered his wife. She had already crawled under the blankets, and he stoked the fire before joining her. The last thing he needed was her catching cold.
He had expected Ana to turn into his arms as she usually did, but she still stayed on her side with her back to him. Will reached out, brushing his hand through her hair. It was still a bit damp, and she shivered as his hand touched her back. Will leaned over, looking at her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and steady, and he was quite sure she was already asleep. He whispered, "Ana, love, what am I to do with you?"
She gave an adorable little grunt, and turned over towards him. Will grinned to himself as she moved to his side, and he pressed a kiss to her head. He sent up a grateful prayer, thankful not only for his wife back in his arms but to actually have a bed and not a narrow bench to sleep on. So with the lights of the Hawgoode shining weakly through the curtains, he held his wife to him and slept.