Moonlight on Water Read online

  “A few weeks? How many?”

  “Three or four.”

  “Four? That’s a month, isn’t it?”

  Rachel nodded, knowing that it would be useless to try to fool the little girl. Kitty Cat, despite her life on the streets of the slums of New York City—or maybe because of it—learned with a speed that astonished Rachel. Already she was excelling in school, passing her peers. The teacher had hinted that Kitty Cat might be older than six, but Rachel had pretended not to hear. As soon as a child celebrated his or her seventh birthday, that child was supposed to go live in the children’s section of the common house. Rachel had only just found Kitty Cat. She did not want to turn her over to the matrons in the children’s dormitory so soon.

  “A month is so long,” Kitty cried. “Sean may have forgotten all about me!”

  “He won’t forget about you. Just as you won’t forget about him.” She took the little girl by the shoulders and looked directly into Kitty Cat’s brown eyes. “I promise you that I will ask the Assembly of Elders as soon as three weeks have passed. All right?”

  Kitty Cat stared at her, then nodded reluctantly.

  “Would you like to sleep in here with me tonight? I will tell you a story, and then you can tell me one.” She smiled, hoping Kitty Cat would eagerly agree as she always did. Rachel loved the times when, cuddled together under the quilt, they laughed and pretended to be frightened as they took turns telling each other silly and scary stories.

  Kitty Cat shook her head as she wiped another pair of tears from her dark eyes.

  Rachel smoothed the child’s red curls back and kissed Kitty Cat on the forehead. She would find a way to make this up to the little girl, even if she had to petition the Assembly of Elders every month for the rest of the year. She hoped that would be enough to satisfy the little girl.

  The next day, when Kitty Cat did not come home from playing with the other children, Rachel knew it had not been.

  Two

  Wyatt Colton set two cases of supplies on the counter in Haven’s general store. The blond woman behind the nicked counter quickly calculated his order. Beside her was the list of parts he had asked her to get from Louisville.

  A long list … and a long shot at getting The Ohio Star back to work. The side-wheeler had barely made it to the pier in the Ohio River below the bluffs where this village sat. He and his partner, Horace Appleby, were the only ones left aboard. The rest of the crew had hitched a ride on another steamboat to Cincinnati.

  Captain Hancock had wanted to scuttle The Ohio Star in a cove nearly a mile up the river. Instead, he had agreed to give Wyatt and Horace the chance Wyatt had not guessed he would get for another decade. His crewmates had called him every kind of a fool. He had told them that they would be sorry they missed out on this opportunity.

  The opportunity to own his own side-wheeler. He could make his living on the river—if he and Horace could get the boat running again. In the meantime, he was stuck on the shore here in Haven. Maybe he should have put in on the other side of the river. Then the parts could have come overland from Louisville. It was too late now. The Ohio Star was not going anywhere until the boiler and one of the side-wheels could be repaired. The boards along the prow had to be replaced, for they had been shattered when The Ohio Star hit that sandbar. As long as the river stayed quiet, the boat should not sink before they could fix it. But he knew how fickle the river could be, for any strong storm could have it frothing like eggs being beaten into a meringue.

  Once those basic repairs were completed, they could get back out onto the river and return to Louisville where the rest of the work on the boat would be done. The first thing he needed to get when they arrived in Louisville was a real gangplank, because the boat’s was now sunk somewhere in the river. One narrow board connected the boat to the pier. Another led to the shore, but he did not trust the boards to stay in place, even though he had nailed one end of each plank to the deck.

  His lips tightened beneath his mustache. If the captain had not been drunk, the boat would never have ended up on that sandbar, tearing up the wheel and straining the boiler so much that a crack burst along one side. It was good that the crack had appeared. Otherwise, the whole boiler might have blown, and he would have been on his way to the Pearly Gates instead of this small town.

  Pearly Gates? More likely, if the boiler had exploded, he would have been face-to-face with Beelzebub while negotiating his way through the underworld.

  He must have chuckled aloud, because the woman behind the counter looked up and smiled.

  “Don’t mind me, ma’am,” he said. “Just a silly thought wandering through my head.”

  “I hope you can keep that good humor when you see how much these provisions and parts are going to cost you.” She handed him both slips.

  Wyatt whistled under his breath. He had not guessed it would be this much just to patch the boiler and fix the paddles on the wheel. The total must be close to what it would cost to buy a whole new boat. Horace and he had pooled what money they had, becoming equal partners, but it was clear they were going to have to cut corners to get this boat back to Louisville.

  “If you’d like to reconsider …” She offered him another smile, this one sympathetic.

  “Thanks, but no. I need those parts if I ever hope to push The Ohio Star back from the pier.”

  “Maybe I can get you a discount because you’re ordering so much at once.”

  “I’d appreciate every penny you can shave off this price.”

  “Let me send a telegram to check on what can be done. As soon as I get an answer, I’ll let you know.” Looking past him, she motioned to a brown-haired boy who was sweeping up at the back of the store. The boy must be nine or ten years old. “Sean, will you run this order down to the telegraph office? Tell Kenny to ask the folks in Louisville to give me their best price for Mr. Colton’s order; then you can go and play ball with your friends until supper. Be home to eat when it gets dark.”

  “Yes, Emma!” He put the broom against the wall, obviously eager to get out into the last of the day’s sunshine.

  Wyatt watched Sean race out. When he had been the lad’s age, he would have hated being cooped up in a store. He had spent all his free time on the Cincinnati docks, talking to anyone who would answer his questions and learning everything he could about the steamboats that came up and down the river. A lot of things had changed as he grew, but his love of the river and the boats upon it had not.

  “I’ll send Sean to let you know when I get an answer on these parts,” Emma said. “Are you staying on your boat?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He did not add that he could not imagine sleeping anyplace that did not let him feel the motion of the river under him. “I can pay for these supplies now. Do you want a deposit on the other order?”

  She shook her head, pushing a loose strand back out of her eyes. “I appreciate you paying for your provisions, but there is no sense in paying for the parts until we see what sort of price they will give you. Once you have that, you can decide how much of that you wish to order.”

  “Makes sense.” He reached into his pocket and counted out what he needed to pay for the supplies. It did make sense, but he did not like the idea that they might not be able to get the parts they needed to make the boat river-worthy again. “I hear I can get wood from Noah Sawyer.”

  She smiled. “He has a wood lot just outside the village. I’ll let him know you want to talk to him about some boards.”

  “Thanks very much, ma’am, but you don’t have to go to that trouble on my behalf.”

  “’Tis no trouble.”

  “You have enough to do here without traipsing out of town to deliver a message for me.”

  With a laugh, she said, “Mr. Colton, Noah Sawyer is my husband. I’ll be glad to give him the message over supper.”

  “Sawyer is your husband?” He frowned, baffled. “But the sign says this is Delancy’s General Store.”

  “You’ll find that folks in Haven
like to watch their pennies, too, Mr. Colton. I didn’t see any reason to repaint the sign simply because Noah and I got married a couple months ago.”

  He chuckled, but he had to wonder about a town and the menfolk in it when they let their women run stores and keep their maiden names on the businesses. Out on the river, men did the work and women … Well, women had their place when a man was ashore for a night or two.

  Setting the two cases of supplies on his shoulder, Wyatt bid Emma Sawyer a good afternoon. He left the store and headed toward the river. Haven reminded him of any of a dozen towns along the Ohio. It had a church and a Grange Hall and a courthouse in an arc around the village green, and a general store and a livery and a train station along the main street. Hearing shouts, he looked back to see a bunch of kids playing on the green.

  A very cozy scene … and one that made him shudder. He was not tempted by this town and its bucolic life. A man like him would suffocate in the conventionality of Haven. His life was along the ever-changing river, not in this town that looked the same day after day.

  He tipped his cap to a woman he passed, keeping the cases balanced on his shoulder. She gave him a smile, surprising him. He had not guessed a woman in this town would have any interest in a river rat like him. Maybe she was looking for a way out of Haven. It would not be with him. The only mistress he wanted was the one he had—The Ohio Star.

  The town was built above the river. When he had seen where water had gouged out a path high along the hillsides, he had guessed the town had been situated up here to avoid the spring floods. This spring’s had been especially appalling along this section of the river.

  Wyatt smiled when he saw The Ohio Star bobbing like a cork next to the pier. The white boat was almost forty feet long and about half as wide. Two lower levels of deck were separated by stairs at both the bow and the stern. Railings along all three decks were shadowed by the rooms built in the center of the boat and the smokestacks that rose high above the uppermost deck. The starboard paddlewheel was hidden, as was its twin on the far side of the boat, beneath a wooden casing that was painted with the boat’s name. The Ohio Star was lettered in red in a half circle above and below a blue star that was as tall as Wyatt and set in the middle of the cover.

  He knew the boat looked just like others along the river, but this one was his and Horace’s. All they had to do was find a way to pay for those parts and get the boat repaired. Then he would be back on the river, and he and Horace would be masters of this steamboat.

  Laughter came from the boat. Not Horace’s, but another voice. Higher and unquestionably sweeter. A child’s voice.

  Balancing the cases with care, Wyatt walked across the narrow plank. He set the cases on the deck and heard the laugh again. Who was on the boat? If one or more of the village kids had decided to sneak on board, he would toss them off along with a warning not to return. The Ohio Star was damaged enough without curious kids poking their noses into everything.

  When he heard a deeper laugh, he frowned. He recognized the laugh that rumbled like faint thunder. Horace! Was Horace talking to some kid? Or was it a kid? That light laugh might belong to a young woman. And Horace getting involved with some gal could mean them being run out of town before they could get the parts to fix the boat.

  Coming around the storage room that was set in the middle of the bottom deck, Wyatt saw his partner perched on a crate. Horace was talking to a little red-haired lass who was sitting cross-legged on the deck as if The Ohio Star had been her home since her first breath.

  Horace Appleby might be thirty or fifty or a hundred. His face was weathered by years of sun reflecting off the water, but he was as spry as a lad. His hair could have been blond or white. Wyatt was not sure. Dressed in black twill trousers, Horace made a stiff sound as he moved. Not from his joints, but from the heavy material that was edged with copper rivets. Suspenders climbing up over his light blue cotton shirt outlined his narrow chest. On his feet were boots as scuffed as Wyatt’s. It was the same outfit he wore every day, washing it out in the river whenever he felt the need to.

  Wyatt discovered that he was being stared at. By that girl who had the reddest hair he had ever seen. It was almost the color of the red letters on the sidewheel … or the color the words had been when freshly painted. Freckles were scattered like brown sugar across her nose and cheeks. Beneath red lashes, her brown eyes were appraising him with an astute regard that seemed far too old for her tender years.

  He recognized that expression, although he had not expected to see it on such a young face in a town like Haven. It reminded him of a frightened, cornered animal. She was trying to figure out if he was a potential friend or an enemy, and she wanted to be prepared either way.

  “Howdy, Wyatt,” Horace called, motioning for him to come closer. “We have company.”

  “So I can see.” He looked again at the little girl who was holding a rag doll with hair as scarlet as hers. “Who are you?”

  The little girl leaned her elbows on her knees as she swung the doll in front of her. “I’m Katherine Mulligan, and this is Shirley.”

  “Well, Katherine—”

  Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t like being called Katherine.”

  “What do you like to be called?” He glanced at Horace and smiled. This child spoke her mind. No wonder, Horace had not told her to go ashore. Horace liked kids, which was why he had more than a dozen of his own in various towns along the river. Most of them were grown, and several were working along the Ohio and the Mississippi. The youngest one—at least the youngest one Wyatt knew about—was about the age of this kid.

  “Kitty Cat.”

  “Kitty Cat?” Wyatt repeated.

  Horace chuckled. “Ain’t it the perfect name for her? I found her tiptoeing about the boat, as quiet as a cat.”

  “I wanted to see the boat,” Kitty Cat said. “It’s a pretty boat.”

  “It is that.” Wyatt rested his shoulder against the wall of the boiler room.

  “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head and leaned her doll on the white pinafore she wore over her simple green dress. “Never.”

  “You’ve lived on the river for all these years—”

  She held up three fingers on each hand. “I’m six years old.”

  He smiled. “So why have you lived here for six years and never been out on the river?”

  “I just got here a few months ago.”

  “Then your parents must be extra worried about you. It’s late. You should go home before they think you’ve disappeared.”

  She continued to stare at him as she said, “I don’t have any parents. Not anymore.”

  “Someone must be anxious about you.”

  Kitty Cat lowered her eyes. “Rachel will be.”

  “Who is Rachel?” Now the chatty kid was being as tight-lipped as a sinner when a minister was calling.

  “I was placed out with her when I came on the orphan train to Haven.”

  “Orphan train?” asked Horace, frowning. “Someone sent you away? That’s plum awful.”

  “I’d heard,” Wyatt said, “when we delivered some supplies to Haven two weeks ago, that some kids arrived here on an orphan train a few months back.” He arched a brow. “So I guess you haven’t been in Haven for long.”

  At a low rumble, the little girl put her hand over her stomach and grinned.

  “Hungry?” asked Horace.

  “Yes. Shirley and I are hungry.”

  Standing, he held out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve got any food for your doll, but I do believe there’s enough gravy, beef, and biscuits in the saloon if you want to share our supper.”

  “Up the stairs there,” Wyatt said. As the little girl ran toward the steps, bouncing her doll on every skip, he added, “Horace, her name may be Kitty Cat, but she’s not an abandoned kitten. Someone must be getting downright anxious about where she is. Folks in Haven might not be too pleased to find out that
we let her stay here.”

  Horace waved his hand and chuckled. “I’ll take her home as soon as she puts something in that grumbling stomach. I may have to give that Rachel a piece of my mind for letting a kid like Kitty Cat roam around the river when she doesn’t know how to swim.”

  “Don’t give away any pieces of your mind. We’re going to need all our wits to figure out a way to get the parts to fix The Ohio Star.”

  “Expensive?”

  When Wyatt told him what he had learned at the general store, Horace’s smile vanished. It did not return as they climbed the stairs to the upper deck.

  Light from the full moon rippled on the water, creating a creamy path from the Ohio shore to the Kentucky one on the other side of the river. The boat strained against the ropes holding it as if it wanted to escape back into the river and be on its way. The moonlight was not strong enough for Rachel to see what name was painted on the wood covering the side-wheel, although a big star was visible in the center.

  Sean O’Dell had seen Kitty Cat heading in this direction after they had spoken in the village. Whatever had possessed Kitty Cat to come down to the river and this boat?

  Rachel’s heart twisted painfully. Maybe Kitty Cat had not run away just to see her friends. Maybe she wanted to flee River’s Haven forever.

  Gathering up her long black skirt, she inched down the hill toward the boat. She always changed into more conventional clothes when she came into Haven, because she had seen how the dresses at River’s Haven made people in the village uneasy. She hated these skirts, for they were bulky and confining and had a tendency to catch on every stalk of grass. Every time she put on this skirt and the white blouse beneath a black bolero jacket, she appreciated the sensible clothing she usually wore.

  She paused when a man carrying a lantern appeared out of the shadows on the steamboat. She hesitated. Merrill would be furious to learn that she was here speaking to a stranger without anyone else from River’s Haven with her. How many times had he told her that outsiders could cause trouble for her and the Community? Outsiders did not understand—or had no interest in understanding—River’s Haven. They were happy with their assumptions, no matter how inaccurate they might be.