“Rachel!” Kitty Cat jumped up from a bench on one side of a table that was big enough for a dozen to sit at. Waving as if she feared Rachel could not see her, she called, “Over here!”
Fighting her unsteady feet, Rachel went to the table and gathered the little girl up in her arms. She hugged her tightly even as she said, “You have scared at least a year off my life, Kitty Cat. How could you go off like that and not tell me or anyone else where you were going?”
“No one else cares.”
“But I do!” She wished Mr. Colton and the older man who had been sitting across the table from Kitty Cat were not listening to this conversation. “Kitty Cat, you must never go off without telling me first where you are going. Not ever again.”
Squirming to get away, Kitty Cat pointed to the older man. “That’s Mr. Horace. He cooked supper tonight. It’s good.” She grinned. “And he’s funny.”
The older man nodded toward her. “’Tis a pleasure …”
“She’s Rachel,” Mr. Colton said as he walked past the table, heading toward the far side of the room.
“Rachel Browning,” she added with a glower in his direction.
Horace—or was it Mister Horace as Kitty Cat called him?—smiled, but said, “’Tis a pleasure, Miss Rachel. Can I get you some grub?”
“Pardon me?” she asked.
Kitty Cat tugged on her sleeve. “He means supper, Rachel. I told you that Mr. Horace is funny.”
“Yes.” She glanced at Horace and nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
She heard a thunk behind her and saw Mr. Colton setting a chair at one end of the table. He motioned for her to sit. She hesitated again when she saw it was the only one, other than the rocking chairs, in the room.
“I don’t want to take your chair, Mr. Colton.”
She realized she had said the wrong thing again when he answered in a clipped voice, “You’re not taking it. I’m offering it. You can sit or stand as you wish. I’m going to eat, and I don’t like to eat on my feet. Either both of you ladies sit down so we men can sit, or go back outside and wait until we’re done.”
Kitty Cat giggled.
Despite his sharp retort, Mr. Colton did not sit until she did. Then he threw one leg over the bench and the top of Kitty Cat’s head, making the little girl giggle more as he sat beside her.
Between herself and Kitty Cat, Rachel noticed with a pulse of dismay. Then she told herself not to be silly. These two men had treated the little girl with obvious kindness, and they had kept her here so anyone looking for her could find her.
The man who had been introduced to her only as Horace brought two heaping plates to the table. He set one in front of Mr. Colton and the other in front of her. Intriguing aromas flowed upward on the steam, but she looked at it in dismay.
“If you don’t clean your plate,” Mr. Colton said, “you won’t get any dessert.”
She raised her gaze to find him regarding her with far less amusement than in his voice. His eyes were, she realized, a shade somewhere between blue and silver, combining both but not exactly either color. One side of his mustache quirked, and she suspected he was trying to exasperate her again. She must not allow him to get the better of her once more.
“Before I attempt to eat all this,” she replied, “I need to know what’s for dessert.”
Horace chortled as he sat down again. “She’s a quick one, Wyatt. You need to watch out for her.” Leaning toward her, he added, “Pumpkin pie.”
“That is what smells so good.”
“Clean your plate,” said Mr. Colton, “and you can find out if it tastes as good as it smells.”
“All right.” She picked up her plate and slid half the food onto his plate.
As gravy spilled over the sides of his plate, he stared at her in disbelief. “Why did you do that?”
“You told me I needed to clean my plate, and I shall, although, as I said, I can’t eat it all.”
Horace slapped the table and laughed. More gravy splattered off Mr. Colton’s plate when the table trembled. Kitty Cat wore a tentative smile while she looked from Rachel to Mr. Colton. Rachel gave Kitty Cat a broad smile. The little girl relaxed and began to eat again as heartily as if she had to finish off a plate as overflowing as Mr. Colton’s.
“You should come to call more often,” Horace said. “This is the best laugh I’ve had since The Ohio Star struck that sandbar.”
“Sandbar?” Rachel asked, abruptly dismayed. “This boat is damaged?”
“It isn’t going to sink, if that’s what’s making you turn as pale as death. Calm down and eat up,” ordered Mr. Colton, putting his hand over hers as she gripped the table and started to stand. “And sit down!”
Rachel dropped back to her chair. She could obey that command, but calming down was impossible when Mr. Colton’s work-hardened hand surrounded her fingers. A very peculiar sensation rushed through her, a pleasurable sensation of holding onto something that sizzled. She pulled her hand from beneath his, and the feeling vanished. He had caused this? She had to get Kitty Cat and herself out of here as soon as was politely possible. She must not have any feelings—not even these odd ones—for a man who did not belong to the River’s Haven Community.
Mr. Colton grimaced and looked away. When he took his fork in one hand and tapped the fingers on the other against the table impatiently, she clenched her hands on the arms of the chair. He might as well have spoken the insult he obviously was thinking. His distaste with making the mistake of touching her could not be any clearer.
“Maybe Shirley and I can come back tomorrow,” Kitty Cat said, “and see the rest of the boat, Mr. Horace.”
“You know that won’t be possible,” Rachel said, trying to keep a lighthearted smile in place. “Tomorrow you have your ciphering class with Miss Hanson.”
Horace chuckled. “Maybe some other day, then.”
Putting down her fork before she had taken a single bite, Rachel said, “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We prefer that the children remain close to the Community.”
“I saw kids playing all over Haven this afternoon,” Mr. Colton said.
“Maybe in Haven, but I’m speaking about River’s Haven.”
“River’s Haven?”
She recoiled from the venom in his eyes. It was nothing like the teasing provocation she had seen on the deck below. Any hint of humor had vanished into this fury that was aimed directly at her.
“River’s Haven?” he repeated tightly. “You two are from there?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you live there?”
She looked at Kitty Cat, who was listening avidly, then said, “I’d prefer not to speak of that now.”
“Ashamed?” he fired back.
“Wyatt,” growled his partner, “give Miss Rachel a chance to eat before everything is cold.”
Nothing, Rachel decided, could be icier than the chill in Mr. Colton’s eyes. She was not ashamed of where she lived and the people she lived with, and she would not allow anyone to disparage River’s Haven within Kitty Cat’s earshot just now. The little girl needed to become more comfortable in the Community before she faced the prejudice outside it.
“It might be better if we left now,” she said.
Horace shook his head. “You said you’d stay for dessert, Miss Rachel.”
“Please,” seconded Kitty Cat. “I’ve never had pumpkin pie. I want to see what it tastes like.”
Rachel suspected that Kitty Cat had learned the very way to persuade her to agree. The little girl seldom spoke of the deprivation and horrors of living in the city slums, but Rachel did not have to hear the stories. Her own imagination could supply enough appalling details. Since Kitty Cat had come to live with her, Rachel had tried to give the child as many different experiences as possible to make up for the ones Kitty Cat had missed out in the first six years of her life. But not in a hundred years would she have guessed Kitty Cat had never eaten a piece of pumpkin pie.
“All right
,” she said softly. “We can stay for dessert as long as it’s all right with both of our hosts.”
“It’s just fine,” Horace answered too fast for Mr. Colton to interrupt him. “Do you want to hear, Kitty Cat, about the time I came face-to-face with a real live gator down in a bayou of Louisiana? A gator that was twice the size of this table?”
As he began to relate a story that might be true or could have just as well been a tall tale, Rachel picked up her fork again. She was aware of Mr. Colton watching her closely. Did he think that she would do something outrageous or strange? She had not guessed a man who had been up and down the Ohio River would have the same provincial prejudices shared by too many of the folks who lived near River’s Haven.
She was hungrier than she had guessed. The food was even more delicious than it smelled, and she wished she had not pushed so much off her plate and onto Mr. Colton’s. When she noticed how he made his food disappear just as quickly, she had an unsettling thought.
In a near whisper as Kitty Cat slipped off the bench to help Horace get the pie and more plates, Rachel said, “If we’re eating what should have been your dinner—”
“You worry too much,” Mr. Colton retorted.
“But you weren’t expecting company.”
“Horace always makes too much. He’s used to cooking for a whole crew.”
She looked around. “Where is everyone else?”
“Gone.”
“Gone? What happened to them?” Her eyes widened.
He laughed tersely. “You clearly have a lurid imagination, Rachel. We didn’t toss them into the river. When the boat was run aground, they decided to look for work somewhere else. Horace and I are the only ones aboard now. We’re working to repair The Ohio Star. If we can make her river-worthy again, we’ll have our own boat to take along the Ohio and Wabash or even the Mississippi and Missouri if we choose.”
“It sounds like a wonderful life.”
“The very best.” He smiled, and she wondered if he was being honest … finally. His annoyance had been sincere, but she had not been so sure about his smiles. “Haven’t you ever wanted to see what was beyond the next horizon?”
“I did enjoy our journey from Ohio.”
“Overland?”
“Yes. This is the first time I’ve been on the river.”
“Really?”
“Real—” She frowned. “You don’t need to taunt me at every turn.”
“I wouldn’t if you didn’t make it so easy to do so.”
“But aren’t you the man who said he didn’t always take the easy way?”
His gray eyes narrowed. “I’m honored.”
“Honored? Why?”
“That you have paid such close attention to each word I’ve spoken.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
He waved his fork to dismiss her words. “So you’ve never traveled along the river?”
“No.” She smiled as Kitty Cat put a stack of plates on the table and then climbed into her lap. “I don’t need to travel when I have what I want right here.” She gave Kitty Cat a hug.
Horace set the pie on the table and went back to the stove for the coffeepot. As he placed that next to the pie, he said, “Some folks need to settle down and some need to keep looking for what they want.”
“You’re philosophical tonight,” Mr. Colton said.
“Pumpkin pie always makes me philosophical.”
Rachel laughed. When they all looked at her, she put her hand over her mouth. Had Horace meant that seriously?
Horace cut two pieces of pie and put them in front of her. Then he winked at her. Handing a fork to Kitty Cat, he said, “Try it, young lady.” He held out another fork to Rachel. “Both of you.”
Kitty Cat did not wait for a second urging. She dug into the golden-brown pie and took a big bite. With her mouth full, she mumbled something that might have been that the pie was delicious.
Taking a bite, Rachel said, “I agree with Kitty Cat. This is wonderful. Do you share your recipes?”
“When I can get another in return.”
“I have one for a blueberry—”
Mr. Colton snorted. “I feel as if I’m at a church social with the old ladies.”
Horace laughed. “No old lady—or anyone else—makes a better pumpkin pie than I do.” He poured cups of coffee before sitting at the table.
“I have to agree,” Rachel said. She put her arm around Kitty Cat, who, as soon as she finished her pie, cuddled against Rachel. “And the coffee is wonderful, too.”
“A recipe I learned down in New Orleans.” He chuckled. “Have you ever been there, Miss Rachel?” He answered before she could, “Probably not. You should go there. They have some of the best coffee in the world.”
Once he started, he continued to go from one story to the next about adventures he had had and people he had met in New Orleans and other towns along the Mississippi. She laughed at his jokes, which seemed to make him more determined to entertain them. Even Mr. Colton chuckled at Horace’s stories, surprising her, because she would have guessed that the two men had known each other for a long time if they were partners.
Rachel looked down and saw that Kitty Cat was asleep, the rag doll nestled in her arms. The little girl was seldom without the doll she had named Shirley. Rachel wondered if Kitty Cat had ever had a doll before Rachel gave her this one. She glanced at the rocking chairs, thinking of how nice it would be to hold Kitty Cat in one of them. It amazed her to realize she could not recall seeing a single rocking chair in River’s Haven.
“Looks like that little one is all adventured out.” Horace stood and carried some of the dirty dishes to a galvanized tub beside the stove.
“I would be glad to help with cleaning up,” Rachel said.
“No need. You’ve got a long walk ahead of you. I suspect you’re going to be carrying that child all the way.”
She smiled, resisting the temptation to give Horace a hug for being so kind. “Thank you for a delicious meal.”
“It was nice to have some company other than our own.”
Mr. Colton stood when she did. “C’mon. I’ll see you off the boat.” He picked up the lantern and motioned toward the door.
Bidding Horace a goodbye, Rachel lifted Kitty Cat into her arms. The doll fell to the deck. With a smile, Horace set it atop the sleeping girl. Thanking him again, Rachel followed Mr. Colton out onto the deck. The night was loud with the songs of frogs and insects that nearly drowned out the water’s hushed whisper against the boat. As he held the lantern high so she could pick her way along the deck, bugs swirled around it.
“Careful,” he murmured when they reached the stairs. He put out his arm to halt her. “Let me take her down the steps for you.”
“Thank you.” She was not going to be too proud to accept his help. Her feet were steadier on the deck, but she did not trust them to carry her down the stairs while she was holding Kitty Cat.
He set down the lantern and held out his arms. That odd stirring exploded through her again, even though he had not touched her. She stared at his hands, broad and open. If she stepped forward and they closed around her, how would they feel? Gentle like his smile now when he gazed at Kitty Cat, or rough like his voice when he retorted to a comment she made?
She placed the little girl into his arms, drawing her hands out from beneath Kitty Cat. She could not silence her gasp when her skin brushed his. When her gaze was caught by his shadowed eyes, she could not tear it away. He took a step toward her, then paused as he broke the connection between them to look down at the little girl.
“Get the lantern,” he ordered, his voice taut. “I don’t want to trip going down the steps.”
“Yes … Yes.” The answer was sufficient, but, as she reached for the lantern, it seemed as if she should have said more. What? She could not guess.
Holding the lantern up high, she brushed away bugs as she walked with him down the stairs. She clutched the railing so she would not fall. She was rel
ieved when she reached the bottom. Turning, she watched Mr. Colton put Kitty Cat on her feet. The little girl yawned broadly, then grinned up at him. He smiled back at her.
Taking Kitty Cat by the hand, Rachel held out the lantern to him and said, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, I assure you.”
She was about to smile, then saw his amusement. What a cur! He was enjoying every chance to tease her. She started to retort, but she could not throw Mr. Colton’s sparse courtesy back into his face by disagreeing with him about everything.
As his gaze swept along her, his smile vanished. It was replaced by an intense expression that urged her to step back. She tried to move her feet, but they refused to budge. When he hung the lantern on a brad on the wall, he walked toward her until the toes of his boots nearly brushed the hem of her gown.
His motion freed her feet, and she edged back as she said, “I’m sorry that we intruded.”
“You haven’t been too much of a bother.”
“Then why are you acting as if you’d rather welcome a bear onto your boat than us?”
He gripped her chin between two fingers and leaned toward her. Shocked, she stared up at him. His voice was perfectly controlled as he said, “In a few moments, you’ll be gone from my life, Rachel Browning, except for the few times I may see you in Haven. We’ll be strangers. We are strangers, and I want to keep it that way.”
“I agree.”
“Do you?” His finger stroked her cheek, and that amazing buzz surged through her once more. “Then why do you look at me with those doe eyes suggesting that you’d like to get much more friendly with me?”
“You’re deluding yourself.”
“Am I?” He tipped up her face and brushed her lips with a quick kiss.
She jumped back in shock. “Are you out of your mind?”
“You’re not the first to ask that, Rachel.”
“Miss Browning!”
With a laugh, he bent and shook Kitty Cat’s hand seriously while the little girl stared at him. “Thank you for calling, young lady.” He looked back at Rachel. “See? I do have manners.”
“Then I suggest you recall that they don’t wear out with practice.” Turning Kitty Cat toward the plank back to shore, she said, “Good evening, Mr. Colton.”
Twice Blessed Page 32
