Free Anna's Crossing: An Amish Beginnings Novel by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page A

dollars, stayed riveted on the carpenter.
    “What’s yer name?”
    “Anna.”
    “I’m Bairn. Have you ginger root down below?”
    “I might. I’ll look through my chest.” Her grandmother had given her a box of remedies, but Anna hadn’t paid much attention. She should have thought to look through the box for a seasickness remedy—it would be the same as for stomach ailments. What she really should have done, she realized now, was to have paid closer attention to her grandmother’s methods for healing.
    “If you do nae have any, send Felix to find me.”
    Cook spun around from the stove. “You’ll not be raiding me galley!”
    Bairn winked at Felix. “It’s all in the askin’.” He turned to Cook. “You can always get more in Plymouth.”
    “Plymouth?” Cook scowled. “No wonder we haven’t reached Cowes by now. Plymouth will be days away yet in this wind.”
    “Aye, but the captain prefers to water the ship with the sweet waters of Dartmoor in Plymouth.”
    “That, and he doesn’t want his crew to be tempted to jump ship for higher wages in Cowes.”
    Bairn nodded.
    Anna’s unsettled stomach was finally easing a bit, enough for her to pose an objection. “But why? Why must you stop in England at all?” She wanted to get this sea voyage over with and behind her.
    Bairn and Cook exchanged a look of amusement. “To stock up on supplies.”
    “Why couldn’t they have bought supplies in Rotterdam?” There were all kinds of merchants milling through the dock area, clamoring at them to buy, buy, buy.
    “To comply with law. T’buy provisions for the ocean voyage there, rather than at Rotterdam, boosts the English economy.” Bairn took a step to the door and turned back to Anna. “The layover should only last a few days.”
    A few days! Anna’s heart sank. The delays were adding up.
    Bairn was watching her. “I wish I could spare you the mal de mer, but ye’ll find some relief when we dock at Plymouth. Most everyone gains sea legs. Sooner or later.”
    Cook let out a guffaw. “If you think this little tempest ina teapot is bad, just wait until we’re in open sea and ride out a hurricane.”
    “Pay him no mind.” Bairn dismissed Cook with a wave of his hand. “Believe me, I ken how y’feel.”
    Cook coughed out a rusty laugh. “Bairn was a famous vomiter.”
    A stain of color spread across Bairn’s sharp cheekbones. “’Tis true. Years of service is no guarantee against the mal de mer. My solution was to forsake the bunk and sleep in a hammock. Hammocks remain stable while the ship moves, whereas bunks buck and plunge with the ship.”
    “He’s right, girlie,” Cook said. “Hammocks are the way to go. It protects most seamen against seasickness.”
    Bairn looked at her. “Are you sleepin’ in a bunk?”
    “On a pallet, on the ground.”
    Bairn shook his head, looking woeful. “The worst place of all is t’be on the floor of the ship. Sleep in a hammock. I put plenty of hooks along the crossbeams. And there are extra hammocks available. They’re in a barrel in the bow.”
    “I’ll try it tonight.” At this point, she would try anything.
    “And keep a closer eye on that one.” Bairn tipped his head in Felix’s direction, who was occupied by lifting the lid on each barrel to see what was inside. “I found him in the captain’s cabin.” He leaned slightly toward Anna and whispered so Cook didn’t overhear. “Takin’ a nap in the captain’s bunk .”
    Anna shot a hard glance at Felix, bristling with things she felt like saying to him, things he needed to hear, but he was oblivious to her. That boy was oblivious to most everything.
    Bairn walked with them to the upper deck. “’Tis goin’ to come onto rain soon.”
    Anna looked up and saw only blue sky. “Why do you say that?”
    He gestured toward the horizon. A bank of gray clouds inked the line between sea and sky.
    She moaned and Bairn grinned—but not in a mocking way.
    This ship’s carpenter, he wasn’t