Free Daughter of Destiny by Louise M. Gouge

did not give a quick response. After a few moments, she said, “That
is true, but I. . .”
    Fénua held up his large brown hand to silence her. “You are
lonely. You must have someone to share your home with, yet it must be someone
who is worthy.”
    Leah bit back a laugh, for laughing would have been a
grievous offense. Instead, she waited, and a tight knot grew in her chest.
Would she be forced to marry?
    “My eldest son will be chief after me. His only right
consort is my eldest daughter. But my second son is a mighty warrior.” Fénua
paused and lifted his chin with pride. “He has climbed the volcano.” A
remarkable feat indeed, Leah knew.
    Lord, give me wisdom. How do I decline without insulting
him? And how can I teach them that incest is a sin?
    “Lady Leah, a woman must not live alone. Will you take a
husband of my people?”
    “I am honored, Chief Fénua, but I must decline. My husband
will come from the sea.” The sea? Why on earth had she said that?
    Fénua stared into her eyes for the first time, and his gaze
bored into her as though he would conquer her with a look. But then his eyes
widened and he appeared to grasp some important concept. “Ah, yes. From the
sea. How fitting. Perhaps mano, the great shark. Perhaps ocua, the great whale.
Yes, your husband must come from the sea.”
    He bowed again and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Then he drew in a quick breath and frowned.
    Leah wondered if he still feared that she might have some
magical powers. She gave him a broad smile and a slight curtsy and, following
custom, backed away until she had reached the outer circle of his yard.
    In her own hut once more, she laughed to herself. A husband
from the sea? What nonsense. Even if Captain Swain returned, she would not
marry him, for then she would have to leave this beautiful island of lost
souls.
    ***
     
    Jonah took an extra watch in the crow’s nest of the Nantucket whaler. The captain told him the previous evening that they should reach the
right coordinates for Fénua today or tomorrow. Heart in his throat, Jonah saw a
thin string of smoke on the horizon. Was it another whaleship with burning
try-pots? Or was it a volcano?
    “Smoke, ho,” he called down to the captain, who nodded and lifted
his glass.
    “Land, ho,” the captain shouted.
    In his excitement, Jonah nearly fell out of the crow’s nest
when another man arrived to take up the watch.
    “Easy, laddie.” The Scotsman who had pulled him from the
ocean over three months before clapped him on the shoulder. “If you fall and
break your neck, we’ll have no excuse to visit the island.”
    “Thank you, Andrew.” Jonah clung to the ropes and eyed his
friend. “Now don’t forget what I told you about that.”
    Andrew’s face wore an exaggerated look of dismay. “Aye,
laddie, but it canna’ be a sin just to look at the lovely lassies, can it?”
    “But remember that Jesus said you’re not to look at them with
lust in your heart.”
    “By me mother’s haggis, mon , you’re asking me to gi’
up being human.”
    “Not at all, mon ,” Jonah said. “Just obedient to the
Lord. It won’t be easy on this ship. But just as surely as you saved me from
drowning, God has saved you from eternal death. Now you must live for him among
these unsaved men.”
    “Aye, laddie, sure as sunshine, He’s saved me. And if He
can take the drink out of a Scotsman like me, He can take the lust from my
heart.”
    “That’s the fellow.” Jonah smiled, then scrambled down the
ratlines and found the captain in his quarters, the door wide open. The tall,
black-haired Nantucketer puffed on his pipe and wrote in his log. At Jonah’s
knock on the door jamb, he looked up and beckoned him into the cabin.
    “Captain, may I consider myself a passenger from this point
forward?”
    The man studied Jonah for a moment. His dark eyes gave no
hint of his thoughts. Then he nodded curtly. “You may.”
    “Sir,” said Jonah. “If you recall, I worked