Tin Swift

“Doesn’t it come from the storms?” Mae set a plate down on the crate next to Rose’s cot and turned with a bowl and spoon.

“It’s not known, really,” Hink said. “I’ve gathered glim on a clear day just as often as above some of the worst lightning storms the range can cook up. There are men with better minds who have tried to argue it out. Haven’t heard they’ve agreed on an answer yet.”

“I’d love to read up on the theories,” Rose said.

“Not until you eat something.” Mae picked up the bowl.

“Let me give you some room for that.” Hink stood.

“No, that’s fine,” Mae said. “It’s no bother.”

“Nonsense. I take up more room than a man ought, and I’d rather not be in the way of Miss Small’s meal.” He stepped around the chair and Mae took his place, settling in next to Rose’s bed.

“Think you can try some broth?” Mae asked. “Mr. Seldom is a surprisingly fine cook.”

Hink chuckled. “I don’t keep him on the ship for his conversational prowess. Ladies.” He tipped his head in a nod.

“Are you leaving?” Rose asked. She really wasn’t hungry, and wasn’t hurting enough to ignore the sheer restlessness rolling through her.

She wanted out of the bed, out of the room. Wanted to explore this mountain, or maybe go see the Swift again while she was awake, aware.

“I have a few things to see to,” the captain said. “Ship repairs being one of those things. I’m thinking if we get all hands on her, we can fly out by the end of the day tomorrow. Dawn next, the latest.”

“That would be a very good turn of events, Captain Hink,” Mae said. “The sooner we can be on the road again…well, I suppose sky again, the sooner we will set right our troubles.”

“I most certainly hope that is so,” he said.

“So,” Mae said, after Hink had left the room, “are you feeling strong enough to do this on your own, or would you like some help?”

“I think if you place the bowl on my thigh, I might be able to handle it.”

Mae helped her to get situated, and Rose took a spoonful of the soup. The broth was rich and filled with meat and had soft salted dumplings in it. If she’d been in better health she might have enjoyed the meal very much. Right now, she just wanted to get out of the bed and follow Captain Hink to watch him inspect the ship.

She could learn so much from him. Might even learn how to fly. Molly had seemed happy with her help on the boilers. Maybe she’d let her help again.

If she had time. If she lived.

In answer to those two grim thoughts, Rose applied herself to the broth. Once a person stopped eating, it was never long until they were in the grave. And she was not going to lie down to rest easily.

After she had determinedly gotten through half of the soup, she gave the spoon and bowl over to Mae in exchange for a cup of water lightly laced with brandy.

“Never drank so much in my life,” Rose said.

“Just to keep the pain at bay,” Mae answered, tidying up things.

Two of the men from Captain Hink’s ship sauntered into the room and dropped down on cots. They didn’t even take the time to undress or shed their boots and harnesses before they were snoring softly.

Molly Gregor showed up next, and tromped over to Rose’s bed.

“Well, don’t you look perky?” She smiled, and dragged her breathing gear off over her head. “I suppose the menfolk will sleep up on that side of the room, so us fine ladies can retire in relative modesty here. Not that I’m much used to modesty, traveling with those yokels.”

She held her breathing gear and goggles in one hand, then looked around, trying to decide where to drop them. She finally took the cot that was set somewhere between the men’s cots and Rose’s. She dropped the gear at the head of the bed, then sat. She unlaced her boots and sighed.

“I do get tired of the boots,” she said, staring down at her stockinged feet as she wiggled her toes. “Now.” She got up and watched Mae fuss about with blankets and such around Rose’s bed.

She gave Rose a wink. “Is there anything you might need my help with, Mrs. Lindson?”

“What?” Mae asked. “Oh, no, thank you, Miss Gregor.”

“Molly,” she said. “Please use my given name. Friends and crew always do.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Mae said. “I can’t see anything else that can be done tonight. And Captain Hink said we might be flying out tomorrow if the Swift is in good repair, so I think sleep might be the best course for us all.”

“He said that, did he?” Molly asked. “Man seems awfully sure of the work he hasn’t even started on yet.”

“Is the ship badly damaged?” Rose asked.

“Oh, no worse than she’s been before,” Molly said. “We’ll fix her up so you wouldn’t even know she’d taken a hit. Whether it will take a day, or maybe two, is more my doubt.”

“But the captain said—,” Rose began.

“Yes, my dear, I know the captain.” She gave Rose a look. “And I know the sorts of things he says.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to say that you didn’t,” Rose said.

Molly closed her eyes for an extra moment, and a kindly smile curved her lips. “You haven’t said anything to bother me, Rose—may I call you Rose?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Molly strolled closer and then glanced over her shoulder toward the men in the room, listening for their snores.

Satisfied that they were sleeping, she said, “I just think the captain very much wants to see you and all of his passengers safely to your destination as quickly as possible. He has a way of promising the moon when his heart’s in it. And just between you and me? When his heart’s in it is when he always manages to come through.”

“Is it?” Rose asked, searching Molly’s face. Molly didn’t carry a heavy resemblance to Mr. Gregor. For one thing, her hair was iron black, whereas the blacksmith’s wild hair was fire red. But there was something to the arc of her cheek, the square of her chin, that reminded her very much of her good friend.

“Is what?” Molly asked.

“His heart … in it?”

Molly’s eyebrows quirked down just a bit, but she was smiling. “Are you asking me if the captain is concerned about the safety of the people who travel with him, or if he’s concerned about you, Miss Rose Small?”

“Both,” Rose said quietly. Yes, she should be much more modest about these sorts of questions. After all, she hardly knew Molly Gregor. But if she didn’t have much time left to her life, Rose figured she would live it as forthrightly as she could.

“Any passenger he agrees to have aboard the Swift—and those are few and far between—the captain has always seen to their safety and comfort. But you?” Molly unbuckled the tool belt around her hips and slung it over one shoulder. “He’s particularly interested in your safety and well-being.”

“Oh,” Rose said.

“And just in case you didn’t understand that, he likes you, Rose, though he’s barely said more than three words to you. I’m not one to tell the captain who to associate with, but I do want you to know that my loyalties will always fall at his side. Treat him kindly.”

Rose just nodded. It might be the medicine and the pain, but it didn’t seem like Molly was threatening her. It almost sounded like she was encouraging Rose’s interest. Maybe glim runners had a different sort of values when it came to a woman’s attraction to a man.

“Good night, Rose Small,” Molly said as she walked off toward her cot. “And good night to you, Mae.”

“Good night, Molly,” Mae said.

Mae came over to Rose and tucked her blanket in around her. “Cold?”

“No.”

“Pain?”

“Still bearable. The tonic helped.”

Mae smiled. “Good, then. Get some sleep. It’s nearly midnight and I think we’ll all want our wits in the morning.”