A Bride for Adam

a painful malady, love is, when it goes wrong, of course. It’s the sweetest melody when things go right.” Tully laid his knife down and gazed into space. “I fell for a woman in Boston. Maggie, she was. The sweetest and prettiest woman I ever laid eyes on.”
“Did you marry her?” Adam asked.
“I did, but she died giving birth to our first child. I lost two of my most precious loved ones in the world at the same time.”
“I’m so sorry. How did you cope with it?”
“I took to drinking. It numbed the pain, but when I sobered up, the pain was still there, so I decided I was wasting my money on whiskey. That’s when I decided to go to sea. I wasn’t much good at being a sailor, so my first ship’s captain tried me at cooking, and I’ve been in a galley ever since. I was so busy cooking for a crew three times a day that I didn’t have time to think of my pain.”
Tully pointed his finger at Adam. “You need to find out if you love her, and tell her if you do. Don’t let her get away.”
“I’ll try, but how did it feel when you were in love? I don’t know what it is I feel for Greta.”
“Oh, I thought about Maggie all the time when we were apart. When I saw her, my heart would pump a bit faster. I wanted to be with her forever. I loved being with her. She could brighten even the dreariest of days. Everything I did, I did for Maggie.”
Tully picked up his knife and pointed it at Adam. “You’d better fix it.”

Chapter Thirteen
Greta came up behind Adam while he was studying a map at the helm. “Excuse me, but why aren’t we moving?”
Adam studied her face for a few moments to try to determine her mood, but he couldn’t; it was the first time she’d spoken to him in two days.
“We don’t have a crew,” he said simply.
Her face dropped in disappointment. “What do we do in that case?”
“Manny is out on the wharf trying to hire us a crew. I told him to offer more money than what their present shipping company is paying. We already have six men signed up, but we’ll need at least six more.”
Greta looked like she was about to cry, she was so disappointed.
“Look, I’m doing everything I can to get us home. I know how much you miss Bethany. I miss her, too.”
Greta turned, walked toward the forecastle, and leaned on the railing to stare out at the water.
Adam followed her and leaned on the rail beside her. She swiped at her face, and he knew she was crying.
“When we get home, I’ll cancel the contesting of the annulment. If that’s what you want, I’ll concede. I’ll do anything to make you happy again and not upset with me. I miss your company.”
More tears fell down Greta’s face. He turned and held out his arms, but she shook her head rather than move into them.
Adam dropped his arms. “Talk to me, Greta.”
“I’ve loved this trip, but I’m homesick. I miss my daughter, and I’m upset that you’ve contested the annulment. Now it will take even longer to dissolve our marriage.”
Adam took her arm. “Come with me.” He was surprised when she went with him to the stairs and allowed him lead her to the captain’s quarters—in other words, her room. He steered her to the chair opposite his desk. He sat on the desk near her and took her hand in his. Tears were still rolling down her face.
“How would you like to go into Liverpool and send another telegram home? We can wait for an answer like we did in Charleston.”
Greta nodded. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at her tears. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
Adam lifted her chin with his finger. “You can ask me anything.”
“Why are you willing to cancel challenging the annulment?”
Adam shrugged. “I can’t force you to stay married to me, I realize that. I was simply trying to give myself more time to get to know you better before the annulment took place.”
Greta sniffled into her handkerchief. “Can we still be business partners?”
“I was wrong to contest the annulment without telling you, but I never break a promise. We can still be partners. You’ve kept your promise to come along with me to work onboard; we still have a deal.”
She gave him a tear-filled smile and his chest filled with warmth. He wondered if what he felt was love. He’d have to ask Tully.
He pulled her to her feet. “Come on—let’s go into Liverpool and send that telegram.”
Greta touched her head. “I can’t. My hair is a mess.”
 “I can fix that quickly enough.” He spun her around and untied the rawhide holding the messy braid he’d fixed for her two days ago. Once a week, he hauled a huge tub in for her to bathe and wash her hair. The soap she used smelled like fresh cut lilacs. As he brushed her hair, he once again wanted to sink his face into the silky strands.
After a few brushes, the strands shone like gold. Adam made short work of braiding her hair and wrapping it around her head. She gave him a pin, and he used it to secure it. When he was done, he spun her around to face him. “You look so good. All the sailors on the wharf are bound to be envious of me.”
Greta smiled at him. He took it to mean she’d forgiven him.
He took her to Liverpool, where they hired a horse-drawn cab to take them to the telegram office. They received a telegram back saying all was well, and it cheered