One Night to Remember (6 page)

“We’re sinking?” Her heart caught as her stomach fell. “You told me it wasn’t serious.”

“Shh, love.” Thomas led her across the lounge. “You must not say it so loudly.”

She cowered from the bone-numbing cold as they swept out the doors leading to the first class promenade. Wind bit at her cheeks and puffs of cold air escaped her mouth. Steam hissed from the towering stack above their heads, so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts. On the far end of the deck, a lifeboat was already being prepped for lowering.

They were serious about this, weren’t they? Somehow, Elizabeth still couldn’t believe it. Perhaps that’s why everyone remained indoors, talking like they’d be on their way in no time—they couldn’t believe it either. This was not a drill, she told herself, though the crew hadn’t led one anyway; it’d been postponed and deemed unnecessary. Irony choked the tears in her throat.

 “It’s imperative we do not cause a panic,” Thomas hollered over the booming sound of steam being released. He helped her out of her coat and put on her life vest.

“There should be panic, Thomas,” Elizabeth said while he replaced the fur over her shoulders. She burrowed into its warmth, gazing at the first class passengers milling about indoors. “If the ship is sinking, everyone needs to get to a boat. Why aren’t they coming out on deck?”

Thomas shook his head. “There aren’t enough lifeboats, Elizabeth. There’s simply not enough room. We’ve been told to keep everyone calm.”

“Calm?” Air tore from her lungs as the gravity of the situation hit her full force. She’d never felt more helpless in her life. “Thomas, what will happen?”

He pulled her close and escorted her to the small group of passengers who’d gathered near the lifeboat. “You will get off this ship. You will get off right here, right now, before it is too late.”

Fear strangled her words. “And you?”

“I’ll stay behind to help the other passengers.”

Chills coated her body in a rolling wave. She didn’t know Thomas well. But she knew, with every ounce of her being, that she wanted him to get off the ship with her. She wanted him at her side. Hugging her close. Telling her it would be all right. It seemed from the moment his touch sparked something within her, she couldn’t imagine living without it.

“No.” Her hand found his heart. It beat hard and true, thumping against the palm of her hand.  “If I’m getting into this boat, you’re coming with me.”

“Women and children first.” His lips strained white as his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. “I wouldn’t need the order to offer my seat, but the captain has already given it.”

This couldn’t be happening. After all these years of turning men away, of focusing on her work instead of love and marriage, Elizabeth had finally found someone she wanted to be with. Marriage or not, true love or a year long courtship, she wanted more of Thomas McGuire.

She wasn’t ready to give him up yet.

“You work for the ship,” she said, watching the first woman step into the lifeboat. “You can assist on the boat. Surely they’ll need someone to row.”

An officer helped two other ladies into the boat, a child, and three large men. It swayed a bit before finally steadying on the davit.

“Aye, you will need someone to row. Someone strong and able,” Thomas said, moving out of the way for two young ladies to pass. “But the privilege of escorting you is not mine. I must stay to help the rest of the passengers.”

“Even if that means you might not ever see me again?”

“My sole purpose on this ship is to keep order. I’m needed now more than ever.” He swallowed hard. “If you were below deck, I’d come for you too.”

“Miss?” The officer loading the boat extended his hand. “You’re next. Take my hand...”

Time froze. Elizabeth’s gaze bounced between the lifeboat and Thomas and the freezing black water of the Atlantic.

She’d never felt so torn in all her life. It’s not that she wanted to stay on the ship...she simply didn’t want to leave Thomas behind. If what he said was true, that there weren’t enough boats to accommodate everyone, how would he find a way to make it off?

“Promise me you’ll meet me when we dock in New York,” she said.

He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I’ll meet you when we dock.”

“No. Promise me.” He hadn’t said the words and she desperately needed to hear them. It may’ve been the only thing that could soothe the worry from her bones.

“I promise. But now you have to promise me something.”

She waited.

“Do you see that?” He slowly spun her in his arms and pointed out to sea, where a tiny light twinkled in the dark. “The light, not too far out?”

“Yes…” she squinted, watching the light blink softly against the midnight sky. “Is that a ship?”

“The wireless operators have tried unsuccessfully to reach it. The crew has been instructed to lower this lifeboat quickly and row hard toward that light. I need you to row your heart out and get as many of these women to take up oars with you.” He squeezed her middle, releasing flutters of butterflies. “When you reach the ship, send them back for us.”

Hope
. There was hope after all.

“Okay,” she said, and spun around to face him once more. “Does the captain know how long until…”

Until the ship falls away beneath their feet…

“An hour.” He watched a group of ladies enter the lifeboat. “Maybe two.”

“Lord help us.” They’d have to row fast.

Reaching up on tiptoe, Elizabeth kissed him, putting all her hope and promise behind it. The instant her lips brushed his, her stomach coiled into a hard knot. Thomas pressed on the small of her back, drawing her close.

Elizabeth had been wrong. What they shared was more than physical. More than an adventure. Elizabeth got the feeling that standing before her, saying goodbye perhaps forever, was her future.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and slipped into the lifeboat with the others.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Watching Elizabeth’s lifeboat descend into the Atlantic was the most difficult thing Thomas ever had to do. He had the raw, churning feeling in his gut that as the night moved on, things were going to get infinitely harder.

Despite the fact that there weren’t enough lifeboats for everyone aboard, Elizabeth’s boat had been lowered less than half full. Twenty seven passengers took seats along with one officer—part of the lookout crew—to man it. Even though it was crucial for women and children to occupy the lifeboats first, fourteen of the spots on Elizabeth’s boat had been filled with able-bodied men.

Elizabeth’s lifeboat had purpose. Row hard for the ship on the horizon and bring back help.

At least if the captain’s plan failed, and their lifeboat couldn’t reach the ship in time, Elizabeth would be safe. The fourteen gentlemen accompanying her would see to that.

With a deep breath, Thomas pushed the thought of Elizabeth drifting away out of his mind and focused on the task at hand: keeping order.

He swept into the lounge, shocked to find the first class passengers still mingling, the drinks refilling and the band playing on. Walking up to a group of giggling ladies, Thomas stopped at their side and tapped two on the shoulder.

“May I escort you lovely ladies to a lifeboat?” he said with a tight smile.

They smiled back, bowing a little in response. One lady, a thirty-something brunette with big, doe eyes said, “We’d rather not. It’s quite cold. We’ve decided to stay indoors until the drill is over.”

“This is not a drill.” Thomas dropped the lightness in his tone. “You should get to a lifeboat…before it’s too late.”

They stared, their smiles dropping to grave lines.

“Better safe than sorry, I always say.” He waited for them to nod in agreement, then escorted them onto the promenade.

Directly in front of the doors, an officer was struggling to swing a lifeboat into position by himself. Were there no other officers who could help? Were they busy on the port side, lowering other boats? Thomas hoped so…

Jolted into action, he grabbed a hold of the metal davits arching over the lifeboat. He guided the thick length of rope into its pulley, pulling and tugging the ropes into position so when the time was right, the boat could descend smoothly. The rope was hot in his hands, burning away the skin on his palms. But he couldn’t feel the cold or the pain. Not anymore.

With the lifeboat ready, the officer called for passengers to step in. Thomas led the ladies from the lounge into their seats, receiving concerned looks from one and disbelieving from another.

It seemed not even the lowering of the lifeboats could convince the passengers that something had gone horribly wrong.

Thomas moved back indoors, through the wide, white-paneled corridors of A Deck, telling every passenger he passed to head outside. He opened stateroom doors. Checked rooms. Asked passengers to get to the boats. He swept down the grand staircase, remembering all too well how he’d chased Elizabeth down these stairs.

Had she reached the blinking lights of the ship by now? Were they already steaming to their position to assist with the rescue? God willing, they were on their way…

Thomas trekked through B Deck, from bow to stern, telling as many people as he could to put on their life vests and head above deck. He didn’t know how many observed his warning, how many listened, or how many turned a deaf ear and went back to bed.

It was no matter. He put forth his best effort.

By the time he wound down, down, through C and D deck, the boat had started to list, causing Thomas to trudge a bit uphill. He turned down a narrow corridor near the reception room and slowed his pace when he realized a soft moaning sound was emitting from the walls. He listened closely, almost dismissing it as a passenger making raucous in the cabin on the opposite side of the wall.

But then he heard it again. A low, smothered groan that stretched on like a man in immense pain.

When it occurred to Thomas that the bone-chilling sound was coming from the bowels of the ship, fear clawed its way into him. The ship, that not two hours ago was alive with dining, dancing, bright lights and laughter, was
dying.

Uncertainty flaring in his chest, Thomas pushed onward, uphill toward the stern, moving through one long corridor after another. He didn’t know how much time he had. Or how long he dared wait below decks. He addressed every door he could. First class stateroom, second or third class cabin—he didn’t care.

As Thomas passed a gentleman without a life vest, he stopped and said, “Sir, have you forgotten your life vest?”

The man continued down the corridor, craned his neck around and called over his shoulder. “Have you forgotten yours?”

With a hard pound of his heart, Thomas clutched his chest. He didn’t have one on either. In all his thoughts of saving others, he’d completely overlooked measures to secure his own safety.

He raced to the nearest stairwell and back up to C Deck. As he entered his stateroom, he picked up hints of Elizabeth’s perfume lingering on the air. The scent was clean and fresh, punching the air out of his lungs.

From the moment Thomas met with the Master at Arms and heard that the Titanic would sink, he knew that he would not, under any circumstances, take the seat in a lifeboat that a woman or child could occupy.

Considering how many women and children were still on board, Thomas buried the idea that he’d ever see Elizabeth again. He tried not to think about how much the thought hurt. How much it burned him up inside knowing he’d met the woman of his dreams only to spend one night with her before fate ripped her away.

He supposed one night was better than none…

Tugging on his life vest, Thomas left his cabin and made his way up to the boat deck.

The scene had deteriorated quicker than Thomas could’ve imagined. Even though he was in the thick of it—the bustle and noise and fear—he felt like he was on the outside looking in. Watching the disaster unfold from miles away.

Somewhere in the last hour, the hissing of steam from the smokestacks had stopped, leaving an eerie stillness filled only by the incompatible sound of dance music. The boats against the rail had all been lowered. Men were sliding collapsible lifeboats from the top of Officer’s Quarters and having a hard go of it.

First and second class passengers had mixed together, filling the boat deck to the brim. Third class passengers were few and far between, wearing looks of confusion and shock, with hardly a life vest among them. Thomas had the fleeting thought to head back below deck to assist other passengers when a distress flare catapulted through the sky, hissing and spinning toward the stars. Passengers gasped as it popped, raining down specks of brilliant white light. For a split, soul-deadening second, the flare lit up the vastness of the sea and the horror of their circumstance.

The night was beyond dark, cold and achingly hollow. The ship was listing heavily, its bow completely submerged.

Thomas paused, his gaze shooting through the dark and across the black sea, to where Elizabeth’s lifeboat was streaming through the waves. Had they reached the other ship? Were they close?

He couldn’t tell.

As if the flare illuminated the darkest fears of the passengers left on board, the mood shifted. Passengers became panicked, rushing past him fast and desperate. Lovers were ripped apart, torn out of each other’s arms and tossed into boats. Screams pierced the night. And somewhere on the port side, a gun fired.

CHAPTER NINE

“Row!” the officer yelled from the front of the lifeboat. “Pull harder! Keep goin’!”

The tawny haired officer had taken the first shift, rowing away from the Titanic until its starboard lights no longer illuminated the whites of their faces. The burly man next to Elizabeth had taken over when the officer’s strokes slowed. He slashed the oars through the water in a smooth, efficient rhythm as if he’d rowed a time or two before.