Celestial Springs

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

1844

Spray from the pounding waves dampened the hem of her pink dress as it billowed in the breeze. The call of the seagulls sounded like beckoning sirens as the sun began to peak over the horizon, sending streaks of orange and red across the sky. He was holding both of her hands now, standing as far out on the pier as she hazarded to go without hastening a warning cry from her obstinate mother who lingered back along the shoreline with her father and brother, Jacob. His parents were absent, as they usually were when he disembarked, and she silently wished her parents were as busy—or perhaps as disinterested—as his. The sound of her name called her gaze back to his, the smile on his face calming her nerves for a moment at least.

“Ginny, it’ll be a month and a half, two at most. I’ll be back directly,” he assured her.

“I know,” she shrugged, glancing at their intertwined fingers and then back at those blue eyes. “I’ll just miss you, that’s all.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” he admitted. “But when next I step on dry land in Baltimore, it will be to shout to the world that you are my wife, and we shall live together right over there—do you see it? Do you see the top of our house? Together for the rest of our lives. I promise.”

She glanced over towards where he was gesturing. She could see the top story of their home from here. Thoughts of what had transpired in that house only yesterday brought scarlet to her cheeks, and she looked down at the wooden planks beneath her feet. Off in the distance, she could hear the banging and clanging as the crew of the Mary Ann prepared to pull him away from her. “I know you shall return, Spence,” she managed. “And I shall wait for you.”

“Of course you shall,” he laughed, letting go of her small hand for a moment so that he could lift her chin to meet his gaze. “And then I shall make you blush every night.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “Spencer!” she admonished. “What if someone should hear?”

Glimpsing over each shoulder, he shrugged and returned his attention to her. “Who? A fish? A seagull perhaps?”

“Spence…”

“Maybe a sea maiden?”

“No,” she giggled. “There are no mermaids here.”

“Well, then, no one should know,” he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “how I ravaged you—twice—yesterday, in broad daylight, and left you moaning my name.”

The heat was rising in her cheeks again as his breath played against her ear, and just as her mother called her name, Ginny pushed him away. “Spencer! You mustn’t speak of such things!”

He was laughing uncontrollably now, one hand thrust against his abdomen, the other still entangled with hers. “Oh, Ginny, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease you so. I know how red you turn when you are embarrassed.”

She was trying not to indulge him with a smile, but she found him both captivating and adorable, and so she finally began to giggle again, despite the fact that her mother was clearly about to have a conniption at the forwardness of their behavior in a public location. As his laughter began to die down, and a look of longing fell upon her again, Ginny felt tears in her eyes. “Despite the fact that my parents would kill both of us if they had any idea where we really were yesterday, I’m glad that we went through with it. Now, no matter what happens, I will always be your wife.”

The fondness of his smile was compelling, and she felt herself blushing again as he said, “Ginny, nothing is going to happen. Please believe me when I say I will always return to you.”

“I believe you,” she said, nodding, still staring into his eyes.

“Good.” He paused for a moment, glancing at the Mary Ann. The last of the cargo was being taken aboard now, and it wouldn’t be long until he’d have to tell her goodbye one final time. “I only wish I could have given you your ring.”

Ginny glanced down at her hand and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll give it to me when you return, and I will never take it off.”

He heard the ship’s captain calling for him now, and still staring into her eyes, he said, “I will see you again. Soon. I promise.”

“I believe you,” she repeated, smiling through her tears.

Despite the heavy gaze of her mother’s eyes, he leaned down and kissed her, and then, with a lingering glance and a wayward smile, he faded off down the pier, engulfed by the whirlwind of the final demarcation point. Echoes of her name from the shoreline fell on deaf ears as she stared into the distance. Even when Jacob began to pull on her sleeve, her eyes never left the clipper’s mast. Finally, her father’s firm hands on her shoulders spun her around breaking the spell. “Genevieve, we must go,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Ginny blinked in recognition. She attempted to pull away for one more glance at the Mary Ann, but her father held her firmly, and with cumbersome steps, she accompanied him back to solid ground.