Still clinging to the bed beam, Mercy squeezed her eyes shut. There were no such things as sea monsters. Nevertheless, her body shook with terror. If the storm above didn’t sink them, the forces below would. They were going to die, and she wasn’t ready for her life to end.

“God . . .” she whispered. She tried praying the way Patience had taught her, but the words caught in her throat. If she was about to sink with the ship and drown, then she needed to plead with God to take her to heaven in spite of all her bitterness toward Him.

“Mercy” came Joseph’s voice from above her. “How do you fare?”

Her eyes flew open to utter darkness. He’d extinguished the lantern. Or perhaps the water leaking in from the deck above had put out its flame. Whatever the case, darkness had descended with a finality as certain as the grave.

His hand connected with her arm. “You’re trembling.”

She felt him wrapping something around her, and it took her a moment to realize he’d shed his coat and covered her with it.

An instant later, she felt his presence on the bed beside her as he lay down next to her. She was shaking so forcefully that when he slipped an arm around her and pulled her close, she collapsed into him and wanted to weep with fear but held it in.

“Rest easy now,” he murmured against her ear, even as he enfolded her deeper within his embrace.

Soon she could feel her trembling subside. And though the ship continued to lurch and heave as if it might come apart beam by beam, Joseph’s presence and the security of his arms brought her a measure of comfort, even if these were their last moments on earth.

“Are you starting to regain warmth?” he asked.

She was tempted to lie and tell him she was freezing so that he wouldn’t release her. But in the throes of death, her conscience forbade her from any further sin. “My fear troubles me more than the cold, sir.”

He was silent, and she waited for him to leave her side. But with another steep tilt of the ship, his hold only tightened. As the vessel dipped with the swell of a wave that was likely submerging the stern, Mercy buried her face against his chest.

“Are you ready to die, Doctor?” she asked.

“I’d like to think so.” His voice was low. “I want to be ready to stand before my Maker and give an account for my life, but I’m not so certain.”

“What have you to confess, sir? Cannot be overmuch, not compared to my sins.”

“Your sins? From what I’ve seen, you have nothing but goodness in your heart.”

“My transgressions are plentiful enough.” With the storm threatening to take their lives, she might as well confess. “For one, I doubt God too oft.”