That first step off the boat brought tingles of anticipation to Lucien. The plans he'd dreamed so long ago were finally coming to fruition. With an undeniable spring in his step, he moved across the ship to look at the cluster of buildings making up the homes and businesses of the Bahamas.

He'd gratefully leapt over the rail as soon as they'd anchored, leaving the buttoning up of the ship to Captain Dewberry. He expected to have the whole day free for doctoring.

Fishermen were bringing in the catch of the day and he waved and shouted a halloo. They waved back and his smile grew, his spirit buoyed.

The shacks hugged the shoreline of the harbor and numbered only four dozen or so. The small homes were built of wood, with palmetto leaves used to make their thatched roofs. A few settlers had come to build plantations but most on the island were comprised of men of the sea. It hadn't been settled for more than ten or fifteen years. Lucien's heart grew warm at the opportunity to minister to this community.

A man wearing only a wide brimmed hat and dun knee breeches padded up the dock waving an arm. Lucien recognized him.

"HENRY!" Lucien shouted across the way. Good to see you, man! How are things?" Lucien asked in a more normal tone as the man closed. He grasped his hand and was rewarded with an energetic handshake.

"Doctor, I was beginning to doubt ya was comin'! When Wentworth told us to expect ya I told 'um all how I knew ya from Bermuda! Then it was so long for your comin' everyone's been givin' me a 'ard time of it. I'd be good to show 'em you're no myth of the deep!" He nodded vigorously as he continued to pump Lucien's hand in time, grinning with half his teeth missing and the remaining broken and discolored.

The man's face was weathered from time and the sea, his hair thin and dirty. However, no one who ever looked into his faded blue eyes, sparkling wildly with warmth and life could resist returning his smile. He'd emigrated from the overcrowded shores of Bermuda to try to make a better way for his family on the sparsely-inhabited island. Lucien knew him from his boyhood, when they'd gone occasionally for a day of fishing.

"I'd be happy to oblige. Who's in need of my services?" Lucien extracted his hand but gave the man a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

"A course, Doctor, forgive me fer keepin' ya from yer work. Some seamen down that aways be 'aving terrible burns from the sun," he pointed toward the west, "and a good friend o' mine up yonder got 'imself a 'orrible splinter!"

Lucien's elation depleted a little. Sunburns and splinters were hardly the type of ministering he'd been expecting. But he quickly checked himself, feeling the appropriate twinge of guilt for being disappointed no one was gravely ill.

Johnstone disembarked from the latest longboat. Lucien turned to him. "Secure us a room on the island for the night; I, for one, will be glad of a bed that doesn't move for a change!"

Johnstone nodded. "Me as well. Will you require my help today?"

"If I come across anything I can't handle on my own I'll send word. Otherwise I'll meet you for the evening meal wherever you find lodging."

"A widder' near the outskirts takes in wayfarers for reasonable coin. White be the name," Henry offered, gesturing toward the southern end of the settlement.

Johnstone took note of the direction and nodded with thanks as he took his leave. Lucien took his lead from Henry and followed him west to his first prospective patient.

The morning passed unremarkably as Lucien cared for the needs of the people. It appeared Henry wasn't mistaken in that no one was currently in desperate need of a physician. As the sun passed its zenith, Henry took the doctor to his home to meet his family. Parts of the dirt pathways that served as roads were worn to the native bedrock, especially near the old timer's small hut.

"I was one of the first to make me home 'ere. Jus' me an Big Martha." Henry caressed the lines of the unimpressive shack with the eyes of a lover.

"Big Martha?"

"Me wife. Died some years past. Me daughter, Lil' Martha, takes good care o' me now. She lost her man Charlie to the sea a few years back and now it's jus me and 'er little girl, Elizabeth."

As they neared the entrance a child with a mass of bouncing blond curls streaked from the door and Lucien smiled broadly as the old man crouched down to scoop her up.

"Pappy!" she squealed.

"Hey, there's my little urchin!"

"I'm not a urchin, pappy!"

"No? 'ave ya been helpin yer ma today then?"

"Not a bit of it!" she said in a churlish voice.

Lucien stood back, watching, and she hadn't noticed him, but his chuckle alerted her to his presence.

All of her exuberance at seeing her grandfather disappeared as she looked wide-eyed at the big man.

Lucien knelt to her eye level and looked into her large sapphire eyes. Her cherry mouth puckered at his scrutiny.

Another face came to the forefront of Lucien's mind as he looked at the child. He marveled at how much she looked like his twin sister, dead now so many years. He reached out a large hand to smooth her curls. Her vibrant eyes widened as she took a step back and her shoulders came up in a defensive posture.

"You're not frightened of me now, are you?"

The little girl looked away briefly, but then decision overrode bashfulness and she looked back into his face. She cocked her head to one side. "I never seen a man big as you. Are you a giant, like Goliath?"

Lucien boomed with a rich full laugh and stood up to his full height. "If I were, would you get your sling and strike me down?" he asked mischievously.

The girl frowned and glanced at her grandfather. "Mother says stone throwin's not a thing for girls to do."

"Is that so?"

"Nothing fun's for girls to do." The little girl turned and stomped toward the house and the two men followed.

A generously proportioned woman, wearing a cap over masses of blond hair, greeted them.

"Martha, this be Dr. Bellemare," the old man introduced.

She blushed deeply and smiled at Lucien as he bowed. Then her steely eyes seemed to snap as she rounded on her father. "You! You've got to give a woman warning before you be inviting fine gentlemen over!" She wagged her finger at him. "And him a doctor at that!"

She turned again, her finger pointing at Lucien now. He suppressed the urge to duck out of its way, but she lowered it and spoke in a sweet tone that denied her abruptness of a moment before. "Now, have a seat at the table and I'll see what I can't find for a fitting meal for ya. Lizzy, take the gentleman's coat."

Lucien dutifully removed his greatcoat and handed it to the little girl. She pulled the collar over her head and dragged the huge brown coat to the wall where a few pegs were hammered. She looked up at the peg so obviously out of her reach and paused a moment before dropping the coat in a heap on the floor underneath.

***

Afterward Lucien chuckled at the memory as he traveled idly across the hilly shoreline, his hands in his pockets. The girl had such spirit, but her prospects were limited. The only thing awaiting when she matured was probably marriage.

Now, why did that thought seem so dismal? His mother had seemed more than happy in her role as wife and caretaker. But then again, it was what she wanted. It was her choice. Perhaps that was what made the difference ... the freedom to choose one's place in the world.

The sun sank lower in the sky. He decided he'd better go and find what sort of place the widow White offered.

The small buildings huddled around the sheltered harbor and the streets rambled this way and that, following the uneven coastline in an unpredictable jumble. He continued in a southerly direction hoping Johnstone would see him and direct him to the place.

Lucien spotted him near the edge of the village. Beyond the settlement lay a mosquito filled swamp.

"Johnstone!" he exclaimed as he met the surpassingly disheveled man. "What have you been doing with yourself? Quite unlike you to be such a mess!"

Johnstone grinned back. "Why, working for your supper of course!"

"My supper? Did I not leave you with enough coin? I thought this was supposed to be a reasonably priced establishment," he asked, his brow furrowed in consternation.

"The poor woman needed a helping hand more than the five shillings! I've kept busy all afternoon cutting wood and patching holes in the roof!" He was smiling as he turned and directed Lucien toward the place.

"It looks to me like you've enjoyed the tasks!"

"Immensely. I've missed good, honest, hard work. And how'd your day fare?"

"Well, I can't say I got as much fulfillment from my work as you obviously have but nothing to worry over."

They arrived at yet another home built of wood and palmetto leaves, though it was the largest he'd seen. The windows were louvered, a gallery was situated to catch any breeze, and (something nearly all of the other homes lacked) a chimney dominated one side. Lucien noted the freshly cut wood stacked high near the entrance and wondered that his friend had had the ambition to collect so much.

"I intended to ask if you wanted to engage in a little swordplay, but I fear you've worn yourself out!"

"True, I'm tired at that. Perhaps in the morning?" Johnstone suggested.

"Tomorrow I'll need to contact Captain Dewberry and see if he's made arrangements to meet with Governor Wentworth. It does appear the governor stretched the truth a little, as far as his people's well-being. They seem to be faring well enough, at least at the moment."

Johnstone surprised him with a smile. "Things can change quickly! What you lack today you may have tomorrow." He slapped Lucien on the back.

"Don't you mean the reverse?" Lucien asked as they entered, slightly confused.

The place was pleasantly decorated, if not rich looking, comfortable. Lucien followed Johnstone to the den and sat in front of the fireplace.

"Natalie's late husband had high ambitions," Johnstone said as he looked about the room.

"Natalie?" Lucien asked.

"Mrs. White. She said she never knew a man to work harder than he did building her this fine home. He was convinced the settlement was due for expansion and he wanted to be in the thick of it. Unfortunately he died of fever the year he finished. Natalie's been alone ever since, trying to keep up this grand home by herself, making what money she has from taking guests. An honest occupation." Johnstone nodded to himself absently, approving of the woman's dedication.

Light steps sounded from the hall and Lucien rose to meet the indomitable Mrs. White.

The woman who appeared wasn't the old-looking widow he'd expected. Small and slightly plump, with dark hair gathered back in a loose bun, she couldn't have been much past her forties, with only slight streaks of silver. Her eyes were gentle and kind and her smile sweet and generous. She carried a fine porcelain tea tray encumbered with a tea pot and two cups, along with an assortment of baked goods.

"I thought you might enjoy some tea while you're waiting for supper," she offered politely.

Johnstone quickly took the tray from her and set it down.

"May I introduce Dr. Lucien Bellemare, madam?" He turned to Lucien. "Doctor, Mrs. Natalie White."

Lucien bowed as the woman curtsied genteelly.

"I thank you for offering your home to us. It's lovely."

She returned his smile. "Not at all, Doctor. It's been to my benefit. Dear Eugene's been a blessing. I fear it may be I that owe you!"

Lucien passed a curious glance to 'Eugene'. He'd never known the man to introduce himself as anything other than Johnstone.

Oblivious to Lucien's open observation, Johnstone appeased her concern about the labor. "Not at all, dear lady. It was my pleasure."

She blushed, just slightly, before taking her leave. "I beg your pardon, I must return and finish the meal. You'll excuse me, Dr. Bellemare?"

"By all means, madam. I'm famished!" He grabbed a biscuit and took a generous bite to prove it.

The woman laughed delicately and left them to tea.

Lucien turned to his friend. "Well Eugene," he said mischievously, "would you care to pour or shall I?"

***

That night, as Lucien slept, he dreamt like always. But the nightmare was more intense than it'd been in a long time.

Lucien looked into the swirling, foaming waves as the wind blew the salt spray over his small body. He cried out with shock, dread, and pure helplessness. He gripped the rail of the ship only a moment before decision solidified into action. Ignoring the sound of shouts around him he quickly jumped to the rail and over, before anyone could stop him, and the cold rush of water surrounded him. The waves tossed his slight frame but he fought hard to dive under, searching for his mother and sister, both swept overboard by a rogue wave. He found a hand, his sisters, and grasped it, but the water pulled them apart. The weight of her dress kept her from swimming, making her completely helpless. She disappeared into the deep blue. He cast about urgently for his mother, but she too had succumbed to the overwhelming power of the sea.

He was back on deck, draped in his father's slicker. He cried and cried, asking his father why they hadn't swam for safety? He could swim...They couldn't...Why? Why...His father was shaking him, telling him to wake up...

"Lucien! Wake up!" Johnstone demanded.

Lucien sat up with a start. He was shaking and covered in sweat. Johnstone stood over him, gripping his shoulder. He fell back onto his mattress and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"You were about to wake the whole village, screaming like that," Johnstone said, not unkindly.

"The dream. It's been so long since it was that vivid ... I thought it was fading."

"You were so young when it happened. It's a part of you."

"Are you saying I'm doomed forever, then?" he asked dismally as he swung out of the damp bed. He rummaged around for something dry.

"Pray God take it. Nothing's beyond His power."

"I have. Many times," Lucien said hopelessly.

"Then you must ask yourself why you won't let Him," Johnstone said cautiously, and slipped out the door before Lucien could answer.

Won't let Him? Lucien considered the puzzling suggestion. Nothing would please him more than one night of dreamless sleep.