Isabel climbed out of the wobbling longboat into the gentle surf. Warm water caressed her ankles and sand oozed between her toes as they sank into the soft silt fanning out from the inlet. Holding Frederick with one hand and her shoes in the other, she gave up trying to lift her skirts. Frederick nuzzled against her chest, snug in the sling Hann had fashioned for him. Isabel envied his ability to sleep so peacefully, especially with their future so uncertain. But why wouldn't he? He was back in his mother's arms. She knew she should be trusting in God with the same peace and assurance of a child in her father's embrace, but after the events of the past few days on board the Johnny's Revenge, Isabel's faith teetered just like the small boat she stepped from.