I'm Cold - Chapter 75

Previously…

Separated from the others aboard the Union during the Atlantic storm, Johann encountered a frightened young woman named Sophie alone in the darkness. When the lanterns were finally relit, he led her back through the freezing floodwater, believing she would be safer among the group. But with exhaustion, fear, and grief over the recent death of Liese, Clara did not welcome the idea of making room for another passenger.

*

The lantern chains rattled overhead as the Union continued to roll through the fading storm. Thunder followed the lightning in a long, distant growl that drifted across the sea as the small group huddled together.

Sophie lost her footing beside Johann as the ship gave another heavy sway. Johann caught her by the arm before she could fall.

Unsteady from the lingering roll of the ship, she remained against him a moment before pulling herself upright again. Color rose in her cheeks as she stepped back from him. Her movements were stiff from the cold, teeth chattering despite her efforts to hide it.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Johann said.

Marie’s gaze lingered briefly on Johann’s hand still resting against Sophie’s arm before she lowered her eyes again.

Clara caught herself against Thomas’s arm with an irritated breath.

“Well,” she said sharply as another smaller sway passed beneath the ship, “if the ship intends to throw us all together, it might at least choose dry footing for it.”

Thomas let out a weary sigh that almost resembled a laugh. “I shall mention it to the captain.”

“Do,” Clara replied. “And while you are at it, ask whether he has hidden an entire spare steerage that’s dry somewhere aboard that he neglected to show us.”

Thomas closed his eyes briefly while Michael lowered his head, too weary to argue with her.

The lanterns overhead continued swaying, though more gently now. The frightened clamor in steerage subsided, leaving only exhausted voices beneath the groan of timbers and the steady drip of water.

Johann glanced toward Sophie again. She stood close beside him, one hand gathered tightly in her shawl, her fingers trembling from the cold.

“Perhaps Sophie could stay near you and Marie in Liese’s—”

“In Liese’s berth?” Clara cut in sharply. “There is scarcely a dry board there for Marie and myself.”

Thomas rubbed a hand across his face before lowering his voice. “Clara—”

“Everyone has thoughts tonight,” Clara muttered, pushing damp hair back from her face with visible fatigue. She looked toward Sophie again, sounding more exhausted than cruel. “But no one aboard this ship seems to have discovered where they intend to put us all.”

Thomas cleared his throat. “Clara—”

Clara looked back toward Johann, some of the sharpness slipping from her face. “Johann… the poor woman was buried scarcely two days ago.”

Johann’s jaw tightened slightly. “I know. But Sophie cannot stand here freezing through the night either.”

“She’ll take ill standing wet and cold,” Michael said.

Sophie lowered her eyes. “I should find somewhere else.”

Marie hesitated, fingering the edge of her shawl before she looked toward Sophie again. “You should stay with—”

Clara cut in, the last of her patience breaking. “I should not need to remind you that Liese died in that berth scarcely two nights ago, Marie.”

Johann exhaled sharply. “I know. But we cannot leave Sophie wandering steerage alone, trying to find her berth in this.”

Sophie stepped away from them, her voice barely above the tired murmur filling steerage. “You need not decide my place for me.”

Thomas took a small step after her. “No one wishes to send you away.”

Sophie pressed her lips together briefly before answering. “I would rather not be spoken of so.”

“Beg pardon, miss,” a seaman muttered wearily as he pushed through the group.

Sophie moved aside to let him pass.

Johann reached for her elbow gently, drawing her back toward the group. “This has been a hard night,” he said. “I do not think you should be alone.”

Sophie looked away, smoothing damp folds of her skirt that did not need smoothing.

Marie glanced toward Johann uncertainly while Michael rested a hand against her sleeve.

Thomas drew a long breath. “Whatever is decided, none of us will fare well standing here all night.”

Sophie stared at Thomas for a moment as though she could scarcely believe he was still discussing her while she stood among them. She bit her lip briefly before gathering her skirts in one hand and turning away into the crowded passage.

“Sophie—” Johann pushed after her through the swaying lantern light. “Sophie, wait.”

Michael shook his head faintly. “I do not believe that improved matters.”

Marie remained silent, watching as Johann disappeared after Sophie into the dim passage.

Michael adjusted the brim of his cap, jaw tight.

Clara dragged a hand through her damp hair with sudden impatience. “Well? Are we all simply to stand here till morning now?”

Thomas opened his mouth to answer before thinking better of it.

“I did not mean to shame her,” Clara muttered, folding her arms tightly against the cold. “But I could not bear someone else in Liese’s berth so soon.”

Marie shook her head faintly. “She did not deserve that. She is alone.”

Thomas looked back toward the dim passage where Sophie had disappeared. “We spoke of her as though she were not standing here at all.”

Clara’s expression tightened. “And what would you have had me say?” she demanded softly. “I could still see Liese lying in her bunk.”

~

Johann followed several paces behind, keeping Sophie in sight in the shifting lantern light as passengers spread wet blankets across the steerage tables in hopeless attempts to dry them. The closer he came, the less certain he became of what he could possibly say.

Clara had not been wrong. She was grieving.

Sophie had been alone and frightened in the storm. It was his idea to bring her back to the group.

Liese’s empty berth had seemed the simplest answer. Hearing Clara speak, he realized she had not seen it as empty at all.

Johann called again, “Sophie?”

She slowed briefly to pull her soaked skirts away from her legs before continuing forward through the crowded steerage.

Johann tugged at the end of his mustache as he hurried after her. He should have stopped the conversation sooner somehow, though he still did not know what he ought to have said instead.

Sophie slowed as two crewmen forced their way through the crowd carrying sloshing buckets toward the flooded latrines. Passengers pressed back against the damp wooden walls to let them pass, and Johann caught up beside her just before she disappeared into the women’s compartment.

“Sophie, please…”

She paused, but kept her eyes fixed on the puddles at her feet.

“I only thought…” Johann rubbed a hand briefly across his mouth. “You were alone, and—”

He faltered as several passengers lingering near the compartment entrance turned to listen.

Johann glanced uneasily down the crowded passage before nodding toward a stretch of wall farther off where no one was standing.

“Could we…” He hesitated again. “May I try to explain?”

“I’m cold,” she whispered.

Johann lingered a moment before brushing her elbow to guide her toward the quieter spot off to the side.

A woman sitting nearby glanced up briefly from wringing out a blanket before lowering her eyes again.

“We did not…” Johann swallowed. “I did not mean for it to happen that way.” He stopped, realizing too late how poorly his words sounded aloud.

Sophie lowered her eyes again, saying nothing.

“Clara did not mean…” Johann paused, searching for the right words. “Liese only… her friend only died two days ago.”

Sophie lifted her eyes briefly. Johann caught the shine of tears before she looked away again.

“I thought I was helping,” he said, his hands fidgeting. “It seems I have only made matters worse.”

Sophie drew a slow breath.

“You were alone in the dark,” Johann continued. “I did not think it through.”

“I know,” she said. “But Clara does not want me there.”