Lord Rogue

by Patricia Rice

  She wasn’t even certain that she completely trusted him, and she certainly had reason to doubt his stability as a husband, but there was no logic to her feelings. Ever since Travis had walked through that bedroom door the night of Dale’s birth, she had known she would not part with him again. Moments like this almost made it a sensible decision.

  After placing the infant in his cradle, she covered Travis with the blankets from his bedroll, and climbed back in among the covers.

  A wild lurch of the boat and a ferocious crash like thunder tossed them from their slumbers. The roar that followed shivered the wooden timbers as effectively as the crash of water against the keel. Alicia rolled over and grabbed the cradle while Travis leapt to his feet with a curse.

  A scream splintered the air, but the violent rocking of the boat prevented Travis from rushing for the door. Above them, they could hear trees ripping from the bluff directly above them, and crashing into the water. Travis ordered Alicia to remain inside. No patter of rain or flash of lightning followed the ominous thunder, but the boat was rising and falling as if it were a mere splinter on a river current. Travis stumbled across the heaving floor to the deck.

  The air stank of sulfur, and flashes of blue flame illuminated the far shore, but this minor evidence of hell couldn’t compare to the forceful eruptions buckling the earth and river. Travis and his men grabbed the rails as the water rose on a tidal wave that rightly belonged only on a sea. Above them, the land trembled and shook and heaved as if a sleeping giant had awakened.

  The upheaval was tumbling trees from above as the rock bluff crumbled, popping and cracking ominously. Fissures appeared in solid stone as if drawn by unseen hands. Shouting over the uproar, Travis ordered the hawser cut and the boat released from shore. He preferred death by drowning to being crushed beneath a mountain, but thinking of the two innocents in the cabin, his heart lodged in his throat. He wanted them to live.

  Two men fell victim to falling debris and rising currents before the boat could be shoved from shore. There was no time to mourn their loss or try to recover their bodies. Even as they poled the boat out into the rampaging water, the bluff tumbled and hit the river where they’d just been anchored, flinging the keelboat like an old log into the air and into the main current.

  Through a miracle the hull held, and Travis had to live the nightmare of wondering how his wife and son fared while unable to go to them. Desperately, he and the crew grabbed what poles could be found and poled around and through the turmoil of a world gone mad. They had no time for thought, only action, as fallen trees shot past them like bullets, and the river leapt, swirled, and crashed against a disappearing shore.

  It was the terrified New York dandy who managed to crawl to the cabin to check on Alicia and the babe. He found them wrapped in quilts, trembling, but otherwise unharmed as Alicia braced herself in the corner. The endless upheaval had bruised every bone in her body, but she clung to her howling son. At the sight of Scott she screamed her frantic inquiries of Travis.

  Scott reassured her, then propped himself in the doorway of the cabin and shouted the news of Alicia’s safety to Travis in the prow. Silhouetted against a night sky of blue flame and crashing waters, the keelboatman appeared like a demon from hell as he fought to keep the boat afloat, but his relief at word of Alicia was all too human.

  All through the night they battled a river that had no shore, no landmarks, no resemblance to anything they had ever known. Water spread out across what once had been acres of forest; bluffs and islands crumbled and heaved and disappeared. Travis kept his keel aimed at the swiftest current, praying this marked the deeper river channel, but even this method wasn’t foolproof. The swifter current carried with it all the debris of the devastation farther upstream. The stench of sulfur permeated their lungs as they fought to keep the boat from the deadly reach of fallen trees and jagged trunks.

  Shortly after dawn the earth shook with renewed vehemence, and they could see in daylight the horror they had endured throughout the night. The earth literally opened up, swallowing trees and abandoned cabins and anything else in the way. Gas spewing from fissures carried hailstorms of debris and water that hissed and steamed. The superstitious crew crossed themselves and muttered uneasily.

  All through the next day the earth continued to tremble and shudder, creating new crevasses for the river to pour into, toppling towns and forests, opening geysers of gas and coal and sand. A sulfurous haze hung over the water. Terrified birds flew aimlessly over their heads, landing on the deck, disoriented by a world they no longer recognized.

  With morbid interest the crew watched barrels of flour, tobacco, and corn from other boats bob on the current—boats that had disappeared during the night. Bodies too, danced and bobbed on the water.

  Alicia stepped from the cabin in time to catch sight of a child’s golden hair disappearing into an eddy between a tangle of trees. Turning pale, she returned inside, where their son still lived.

  As the rushing waters carried them southward, Travis dared not land in the treacherous eddies that marked what remained of both shores, and he could not rest for dodging the debris that jammed the river. Worn to exhaustion, he ordered his men to take turns resting and reviving themselves. With each shudder of the unstable river, he murmured a pleading prayer. He had come too far to lose to vengeful gods of nature.

  If Auguste had been there, Travis would have dared surrender his pole long enough to grab a bite to eat, but the majority of his crew was too new to be trusted. Battling fatigue and nature, he sought some escape from the hell that carried them past land he barely recognized but knew to be far downstream from the prior night’s resting place. He had to get them out of there, but he couldn’t even be certain whether they were heading away from or into the center of the devastation.

  By nightfall they had either become accustomed to the shudders racking the earth, or the shudders had lessened. Darkness heightened the danger of navigating the logjams and sawyers that could rip the bottom from the boat.

  Eventually, realizing to continue would be more deadly than to stop, Travis anchored on the slope of the protected side of one of the few islands still remaining on this stretch. Helping himself to the stale bread, cheese, and apples that Alicia had dug out from among the stores to feed the crew, he ate without tasting, and collapsed into the sleep of exhaustion afterward.

  In the middle of the night another shock struck, and again they jumped from their beds to pole the boat to safety. This time they watched in disbelief as the island just downriver from them disappeared from sight, but their own remained steady.

  In this way they fought the river for what seemed like eternity, growing more weary, filthy, and hungry with each day, but still alive, which was more than could be said for the bodies they passed along the way. To restock for supplies was impossible. No towns remained along the shores. The few people they passed appeared dazed and homeless and offered no solution. No boats traveled upstream to give them news of what lay ahead, and they knew there was no sense in turning back to the devastation behind them.

  They lost count of the days. Tempers flared, but exhaustion prevailed. With aching backs and empty stomachs, fighting each other had little appeal. The raging river took the fight out of them.

  One morning a roar and rumble and hiss not dissimilar to those they had learned to fear broke what had been a quiet dawn. The rhythmic thumping had a mechanical note that was nearly as frightening as rainless thunder. Finding Travis gone from his pallet beside her bed, Alicia stumbled to the doorway to stare in amazement at the creature risen from the water.

  A towering boat of impossible size and length bore down on them with a speed greater than the current, propelled without sail or poles. Smoke belched from a tall stack, and water flew from a churning wheel along its side. She could see men gathering on the high deck, shouting to an invisible guide inside the monster but otherwise making no effort to steer the boat. If a monster had risen from its grave during the quake, this must
surely be it.

  More aware of the rumors that traveled the river than Alicia, Travis recognized the steamboat New Orleans for what it was—the invention of a genius and the accomplishment of a persistent man. Like others, Travis had doubted that the craft would ever float, but that it had traveled this distance under such conditions was a wonder to behold. Built in Pittsburgh, it must have traversed even the treacherous shoals at Louisville to come this far. The steamboat provided the first glimmer of hope Travis had seen in days, and he instantly took advantage of it.

  The gray clouds overhead threatened turbulent weather to multiply the dangers of the already flooded, debris-choked river. The keelboat had survived this far only through prayer and luck and what skill he possessed. Their chances of making it to New Orleans safely were running out. He could not risk lives while another alternative existed.

  Leaping to the roof of the cabin, Travis signaled the oncoming boat. A whistle indicated the other captain had seen him, but the chances of communicating over the noise of the boilers was small. He would have to take his chances they would understand.

  Travis dashed into the cabin and, lifting his son from the cradle, shoved him into Alicia’s arms. Glancing around, he grabbed one of her smaller trunks and, ignoring her questions, pushed her out the door.

  More passengers had appeared on the deck of the steamboat, including a woman and a huge black dog. As they spied Alicia with babe in arms on the foundering keelboat, a general shout went up, and the larger craft seemed to slow. Maneuvering through the jam of logs and debris was tricky with experimental engines, and stopping in mid-river was out of the question. Still, the passengers bent to the task at hand.

  As the steamboat passed closer, Travis heaved the small chest upward. Above him, men caught it and heaved it to the steamboat deck. Assured that the breach was passable, the steamer’s crew leaned over for the real reason for this encounter.

  Frozen into immobility, Alicia clutched the bundle in her arms and stared at Travis’s implacable face with terror. She tried to twist free as he lifted her from the deck, but he gave her no opportunity. Like so much baggage she was shoved from his arms into that of strangers and hauled onto the decks of the smoking monster.

  Even as Alicia landed safely on the deck, the churning paddle wheel carried them away from the keelboat, creating a wave that dangerously tilted the smaller craft. As Alicia screamed in horror, Travis was tossed from his precarious perch into the frothing current, his dark head disappearing beneath the muddy waters. Alicia’s screams echoed over the river as shock took hold.

  Chapter 39

  Alicia woke to the stench of smelling salts and the squalls of two irate infants. She scarcely had time to take in the comfort of her surroundings before her memory returned, and she sat up, screaming for Travis.

  The woman hovering over her pushed her gently back against the pillows. “Nicholas brought him aboard. Rest now. You are safe. My name is Lydia Roosevelt. Might I have yours?”

  “Alicia, Alicia Travis. Please, you say my husband is alive?” She sat up, anxious to see for herself.

  How could anyone survive the icy waters of the treacherous river? It was impossible. Travis might have the lives of a cat, but even a cat could not survive that rough, debris-filled current. Alicia looked frantically around. “Where is he?”

  Alicia recognized her son’s cry as one of temper and knew him to be safe—but she needed to see Travis.

  “My husband? Where is my husband?” Swinging from the bed, she found the opening of the curtain closing off this chamber.

  The curtain led to the larger men’s cabin, apparently charred by a recent fire. Lydia directed Alicia across the damaged room to the pilot’s door. “Beyond that small hall is where the engineers and pilot sleep. He’ll be there.”

  Frightened now, Alicia gingerly turned the knob. She did not know what she would do if Travis were not alive and well beyond this door. After the death-defying ride they had just endured, her state of mind was in chaos, her emotions too near the breaking point to act rationally. If he were not there . . . She shoved the door open.

  Drenched and shivering, Travis was shaking off the helping hands of the men who had dragged him aboard. Blood streamed down his face, probably from a blow from river debris. When Alicia opened the door, relief flooded his frozen expression.

  Without words Travis opened his arms and Alicia ran into them. Tears streamed down her face, indistinguishable from the rivulets of water that fell upon her from his dripping hair. She felt the deep shivers running through him and pressed closer for a moment, offering her warmth. Then she pushed away and began working at the sodden ties of his shirt. “You must get out of these clothes before you catch your death of cold,” she admonished shakily.

  Travis clasped her hands. “Go back to Dale. I can take care of myself,” he ordered, through lips blue with cold.

  She wanted to slap him. She had almost died watching him disappear beneath those waters; he had almost died in going under. She wanted him to know her fear, her love, but all he could do was send her away. Aware they were being watched, Alicia lifted her chin, and eyes flashing, picked up her skirts and left without a word.

  One of the men behind Travis chuckled as the door slammed behind the two women. “The last time Lydia looked at me that way, I slept with the damned dog for a week. I hope you’re better at mending fences than I am.”

  Travis acknowledged the remark’s aptness with a quirk of his lips. Even his bones trembled as he removed his sodden clothing. He wasn’t about to let Alicia see his exhaustion.

  Before the day was out, fever raged through him, and he had no awareness of who saw him.

  At first the two maids and the cabin boy took turns looking in on him, occasionally accompanied by one of the Roosevelts, the steamboat’s owners. When Alicia awoke from an exhausted sleep and was apprised of the situation, she immediately moved herself and Dale into the sickroom.

  For the most part Travis lay quietly, his body too drained from the exertions of these past days to stir. Alicia kept the bandage on his forehead clean, pressed cold compresses to his fevered brow, tried to keep him covered, and sponged his lips with water. Beneath the sheets and blankets he wore nothing, and the muscular breadth of his bronzed shoulders created havoc with her insides.

  Not long out of childbed herself, Lydia Roosevelt could offer little help beyond the stories she told. Alicia was grateful for any distraction. Over the next hours, she learned more about the strange steam engine and ship and the couple who had made it happen.

  Alicia shook her head in disbelief at Lydia’s assurances that this odd contraption could travel upriver as well as down without the need for men or oars or sails. The lady didn’t go into the details of the mechanical and technical difficulties that delayed the journey so disastrously late into the year, but by the time the boat was ready, Lydia had been eight months pregnant and still refused to be left behind. Alicia wondered if her hostess should be admired or judged insane. The exigencies of travel and giving birth under such conditions, however, Alicia understood better than the workings of the ship.

  The fire that had destroyed most of the forward cabin just days before the earthquake did not damage the ladies’ aft cabin or the small cabins of the officers and engineers. While one of the maids took a turn beside Travis, Alicia was persuaded to explore the living quarters Lydia had designed herself, and she marveled at the conveniences.

  The ladies’ cabin had four comfortable berths, damask hangings, gilded looking glasses, carpets, and high windows to fill the space with light. The gentlemen’s cabin was much larger, but too damaged to appreciate. This longer room contained the dining table and stove and a galley in the forward section, but no carpet. The habit of tobacco chewing rendered carpets unsuitable.

  Alicia wished she could have had such comfort a year earlier. But with Travis burning with fever, she could not adequately appreciate the experience even now. She wept that he could lie here without waking when t
here was a whole new world to explore.

  She possessed only the few clothes the small trunk had held, while Travis owned only the clothes on his back. They had been laundered and ironed and laid upon a chair. Each night Alicia added her gown to the stack of his clothing and crawled in between the covers beside his overheated body. In this way she could divide her time between her son’s needs and her husband’s. Through her thin nightgown she could feel Travis’s excessive warmth, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

  On Christmas Eve, Travis’s temperature soared, and he thrashed in the bed, throwing off the covers as quickly as Alicia put them on him. Worn to a nervous frazzle, she cursed and threatened him with ropes, and finally weighed down one side of the blanket with the trunk while she sat on the other to nurse Dale.

  When the babe fell asleep, she stood to return him to his pallet. It was then that Travis cried her name, and she nearly dropped the child. Restlessly Travis repeated her name while she lay Dale upon the quilt.

  He still did not wake, but his brow was drenched in sweat. Alicia rubbed a cool cloth across his face.

  Travis called her name again, then began to mutter. Irritably, he threw aside the cover and tried to rise. His mutterings grew louder, though she could distinguish little more than an occasional curse. He thrashed about, calling for her, until she ached with the need to offer him solace. When she bent to hold him, however, he shouted “Leave me alone!” and threw her from him.

  She flung the sponge at him. Even in illness, the man was a pestilence upon the earth. He shouted her name again, and she ignored him. Muttering, he seemed to shove someone or something aside and tried to rise, still calling her name.

  “I’m right here, you fool!” Alicia pushed him back against the pillows. “You’ll wake Dale!”