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They enlisted the help of a woman named Margaret Hays, who was fluent in French. She spoke with great tenderness to the boys, who looked to be about two and four. The little curly-headed waifs did not seem to have a care in the world. In fact, they rather enjoyed playing with Miss Hays’s Pom pup, which offered the perfect distraction.

Of course, there were hundreds of others with similar stories. Mothers without babies. Babies without fathers. Sisters without brothers. All around Iris, people grieved their losses. She did her best not to weep in front of the others, though she felt emotion welling up inside of her many times over. Pressing it down was the only thing that made sense, especially with so many others needing her help. She must keep going, no matter how she felt on the inside.

“I’ve heard that many haven’t given up hope,” the countess said as she dished up bowls of soup for the survivors. “Some are saying that another ship has surely come to fetch the rest of the survivors.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” Iris asked.

Edith shook her head. “No, my dear, I do not. If there had been another ship, don’t you think the captain of
Carpathia
would have informed us by now?”

“But someone has to go after those poor souls,” the countess said, still filling bowls with soup. “Surely.”

The conversation continued, and before long several others nearby had joined in. A couple of them took to arguing about it, emotions higher than ever. Iris decided to escape the bedlam for a few minutes. She turned to Edith, determined to move on.

“I really must go and check on Tessa. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Edith gave her a compassionate look. “How is she this morning?”

“From what I’ve heard, she’s still feverish, but the ship’s doctor says that she will recover. They have turned the second-class dining room into a hospital to care for the injured. She is still there, along with dozens of others.” Iris shuddered, remembering some of the injuries she had seen in that room. So much pain. If only she could do more to ease it.

“Everyone onboard has been so kind,” the countess said as she handed a bowl of soup to a woman with two little ones. “Giving up their rooms, providing clothes… And did you hear that Margaret Brown has started a campaign to raise funds for the survivors?”

“No.” Edith looked intrigued by this. “Already?”

“Yes.” The countess nodded.

Edith squared her shoulders. “Well, I must find her so that I can contribute. It’s the least I can do. The very least.”

Iris wondered at Edith’s generosity. After all, the entire
Elrose
line had gone down on the
Titanic
. All nineteen trunks, filled with lovely clothes and other items she had gathered in Europe.

But Edith bore it well. In fact, many of the survivors appeared to be of sturdy stock, more concerned about the needs of others than their own woes. There were a pitiful few who could not cease their mourning, but Iris’s heart bled for them, particularly the young mothers who could not locate children or husbands. Whatever she could do to be of service, she would do. Truly, helping others was the only thing to take her mind off of what had happened.

She made her way to the hospital, where she visited with Tessa and then assisted the doctor as he offered food and drinks to his many patients. She tried not to cry aloud at the sight of those who were wounded but found it difficult to hold her emotions in check, particularly where the children were concerned. Many of the older ones were simply overcome with grief and emotion, but the children tugged at her heartstrings in a different way. Their cries made her want to run from the room, to escape the pain.

As the hours wore on, Iris found herself working alongside a young man about her same age, a
Carpathia
steward named William Kenney, who hailed from New York. The amiable fellow found any number of things to keep her busy and always managed to lift her spirits whenever she would get down. He served as the perfect distraction, his lighthearted approach to work admirable.

Now, if only she could somehow get word back to England, to Jacquie. Then perhaps she could draw a breath without feeling sick inside. Until then, she would just keep moving. One foot in front of the other.

Just keep going, Iris.

Just keep going.

Tessa spent most of the day in fitful sleep, waking only occasionally. When she came fully awake in the midafternoon, the prior hours felt like a terrible dream of some sort. A blur.

She listened to Nathan’s tearful explanation of what had happened but could not make sense of it. If the
Titanic
had gone down, why did she not remember it? In the blink of an eye, she had gone from standing on the Boat Deck to lying in a bed aboard the
Carpathia,
her head swimming. People on every side cried out, many in pain, others overwhelmed with grief for missing loved ones. Tessa’s heart broke as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but none of this seemed real.

Her questions were many, but the primary one, no one seemed able to answer. “Why, Lord? Why have You spared me when so many others are gone?”

With her thoughts in a whirl, she laid the question to rest until she could think more clearly.

Nathan left the ship’s makeshift hospital after visiting with Tessa, anxious to be of service to the others. Now that Tessa rested comfortably, he felt safe in leaving her to tend to those in need. When he reached the Boat Deck, he saw little Annie playing with a group of children.

Jessie sat nearby in a deck chair, looking on. In spite of her losses, the young woman appeared peaceful as always. Nathan took a few steps in her direction and realized she was humming a familiar melody. A hymn.

She stopped singing and looked up as he drew near. “Nathan.” Jessie offered him a warm smile and gestured for him to sit beside her. “Have you been down to the hospital to see Tessa?”

“Yes. She is much better.”

“Praise the Lord.” Jessie reached over and put her hand on his arm. “I’m so glad. She really cares for you. I’ve known that from the beginning.”

“Really?” This certainly got his attention.

“Of course. Her feelings for you are genuine, Nathan. And so is her heart. She truly longs to live her life in a way that brings honor to God, and I can’t help but think that life will include you.” A smile turned up the edges of Jessie’s lips.

Nathan’s heart flooded with joy at this proclamation. “Thank you. I would love nothing more.”

They grew silent for a moment. Jessie glanced out at the sea, then back at him, tenderness in her expression. “Nathan, I’ve been afraid to ask, but—is there any word of your mother?”

“No.” Nathan shook his head, a lump rising in his throat. “I am afraid that she…” He couldn’t say the words. They would not come.

“I’m so sorry, Nathan.” Jessie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “My heart goes out to you.”

Nathan swallowed hard and closed his eyes to keep from showing too much emotion. In that moment, the entire scene with James Carson played itself out in his memory. He saw himself standing aboard
Titanic
. Heard James call him “son.” Agonized over the words that were spoken after, words that challenged everything he had ever known—or thought—to be true.

Just as quickly, Nathan forced the images away. He opened his eyes, looked at Jessie, and sighed. “What do you do when you
find that everything you once thought was real is not?” he asked. “When everything you counted as true turns out to be false?”

“Then you trust in the One who is the epitome of truth.” She brushed away the lone tear that trickled down her cheek. “He alone has the answers.”

For a moment, Nathan didn’t say anything. Finally, he worked up the courage. “When I think of Mother, my heart is twisted up in knots. I loved her, perhaps more than anyone else. But I saw her flaws as just that. She never hid them from me.”

“There is much to be said for a person who does not pretend to be something—or someone—they are not.”

“True.” He paused to think through Jessie’s words. “My heart is heavy at her loss, but those feelings are all twisted up with anger at her for not telling me the truth. She let me believe…” He bit back the words, unsure how much to share.

“It’s all right, Nathan.” Jessie nodded. “You can tell me.”

And so he did. He shared everything he had learned from James Carson and every emotion that had held him captive since. As he spoke, Jessie remained silent, just listening.

“Mother let me believe that my life, my lineage, was something other than what it truly is.” Nathan rose and paced the deck, finally looking her way. “Not that I would trade places or situations. You have no idea how grateful I am to have the relationship with my father. He has been a rock in my life, a solid foundation.”

“Do you suppose he knows?”

“My gut says he does. And if that’s the case, then he has accepted me as his son all along, knowing the truth.”

Jessie rose and took a few steps in his direction. “He has exemplified Christlikeness then. He sounds like a wonderful man, one to emulate.”

Nathan felt the sting of tears but willed them not to come. “I’ve never known such love and acceptance. But how do we begin again if we are not truly father and son?”

“You
are
father and son in every way that matters. No doubt he will need you more than ever now.” She gazed into his eyes with such intensity that he felt his heart quicken. “Go to him, Nathan. Walk with him through the grief of losing your mother.”

“He truly loved her, in spite of all of her flaws. And in spite of…” Nathan’s words drifted away on the wind. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how he did it, but he loved her in spite of not only her indiscretions but her ongoing fascination with James Carson.”

As he spoke the name of his real father, Nathan felt the breath go out of him. In that moment, all the bitterness he’d felt toward the man faded away, replaced with a strange sense of pity and loss.

“A man can forgive a great many things if the love of God is resident inside of him.” Jessie’s lashes grew damp. “This, I learned from Uncle John.”

Nathan realized those words were meant for him. With the Lord’s help, he would forgive his mother. And James.

“Go home, Nathan,” Jessie said. “Give of your time to your father so that you can both heal. Then prepare yourself for a wonderful life ahead. God has spared you, and you must live a life worthy of the calling. We all must.”

“The calling.” He paused and then shrugged, gazing off to the sea. “What has He called me to do?”

“To love others.” Jessie gestured to the crowd of people surrounding them. “And that’s exactly what I know you will do.”

From across the deck, Nathan heard the sound of laughter as the children played. He glanced over to see a little girl.

Manca.

His heart quickened and he took a few steps closer to get a better look. Yes, the same little girl—a bit more disheveled, perhaps, but with the same happy smile. She danced and played, this time with Annie.

From across the deck, Manca’s father appeared and took her by the hand. As always, he danced with her, spinning her around the deck of the
Carpathia
as if nothing had happened, as if they had their whole lives ahead of them—hopeful, joyous lives, unencumbered by tragedy.

At just the right moment, the little girl noticed Nathan and offered a shy smile. He took several steps in her direction, knowing that the language barrier would prevent him from speaking his heart. Still, he could say all he needed to with a warm embrace.

With joy overflowing, he swept the youngster into his arms.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wednesday, April 17, 1912

White Star Line Offices, Southampton, England

Jacquie remained at the hotel in Southampton for the next two days with her mother at her side. Their conversations shifted in and out from sheer relief to angry accusations and shouts. The fact that Mother would even still talk to her, after all she had done, was a miracle in itself. She would forever thank God for the opportunity to begin again.