Mrs. Brown waved her hand in the air. “You’reno trouble at all, honey.”
Allison finished her second helping of soupand handed Mrs. Brown the bowl. She wanted to warn the woman abouther. The midwife shouldn’t adopt a damaged woman into herfamily.
Allison opened her mouth but the words didn’tcome. “How well do you know George?” As soon as she asked thequestion she wished she could take it back. That was not what shewanted to say. It was what she wanted to know but…
“I’ve known him and his brother for two yearsnow. They moved here from Louisville, Kentucky.”
Two years was long enough to get to know a person, or at least offer an educated opinion.
“He’s a good man,” Mrs. Brown added. “Alittle green behind the ears, but he’s a good man.”
A good man. Allison repeated thatphrase over and over in her mind. What did that mean? Mrs. Brownhad said it with motherly kindness in her eyes. The old womanfavored him that was sure.
Was it possible she could favor him, too?Being cradled in George’s arms had hatched butterflies in herstomach. Allison’s insides twisted. She had the rumblings offeelings for a stranger. It scared her more than anything in herlife. Grier had abused her. Her body never responded to his touch.She had hated every minute of him using her for his pleasure. ButGeorge had saved her. Warmth flooded her core. She told herself itwas because she was grateful nothing more. She wasn’t ready to moveon with another man and yet she sensed George was different. Maybein time she would feel comfortableabout getting closer to him. At the least, she’d try to befriendly. He deserved that much from pulling her out of thefire.
But first she needed to move on with herlife, figure out how to earn money. If she repaid George back themoney for her tending and her room and board she wouldn’t owe him.Yes, business before pleasure. This wasn’t the time to go searchingfor love.
Not that she’d ever be ready for love.
It was safer being alone in the world …except it was lonely.
She had two weeks to sort out all herthoughts and emotions. George atleast deserved a better reception when he returned.
And what did he expect from me in return forpaying for my care?
Chapter 6
GEORGE WRAPPED HIS coarse gray coat tighteraround him. Emma had sewed the new coat for him, but the shrillOctober wind still bit through the material. The temperature hadplummeted overnight. The mild autumn had transformed to near winterweather. Quite a shock to his system. He grimaced with each step;slowly walking down to the docks. Stepping gingerly on boardthe Queen Bee, he tried not to make a sound,not wanting to wake the crew sleeping on deck.
Hobbling over to the sailor on watch, henoted it was Mr. Seever on duty. He exhaled through his nose.Good.
“You’re back early, George,” Mr. Seever said.“You usually sneak in right before we push off.”
“Yes, sir. I…” his voice faded. He stilldidn’t know how to say he’d have to quit.
Mr. Seever raised an eyebrow, his gazesweeping down to his feet. “You’re standing awkwardly. Is somethingwrong?” Then his eyes widened at the bandages. “What happened?”
“When I went ashore I noticed a house was onfire. I rescued a woman, but I burned my feet badly in theprocess.” George frowned and bowed his head. “I’m afraid I’ll haveto quit. It hurts to walk. There is no way I can do my job.”
“I like you, George. I’d hate to loseyou.”
He likedhim? Why didn’t the crew his own color like him?
“I saw the fire from the ship. When I wentashore I heard the house burned to the ground.”
Did the white man survive? If he did, wouldhe be after Allison? Acid churned in his stomach and scorched apath up his windpipe.
“Did you talk to the sheriff?”
The question caught George by surprisealthough it shouldn’t. Mr. Seever didn’t think he started the fire,did he? George swallowed hard, bile searing his throat. If thewhite man had died he could be charged with murder.
“No, sir. I’m afraid of the law. I don’ttrust them.”
Mr. Seever rubbed his chin. “I suppose Ican’t blame you for that. Been disappointed in the law myself.You’re safe unless they comeasking you questions. I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Seever tipped his head sideways andappeared in deep thought. “Do you think you could stand all day ifyou didn’t have to walk anywhere?” he finally asked.
Stand all day? Doing what? “Yes, sir. I thinkI could manage that.”
“Good. Then you can be a temporary firemanfor a while. I’ll have the wood brought to you.”
George blinked. Why was he being soaccommodating? Did he really like him that much? “What about thecurrent fireman he—”
“He quit a half hour ago. The Captain’sdesperate to find a replacement. We can operate with one lessroustabout, but we need a fireman.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Seever laughed. “Don’t thank you me untilyour first day is over.”
Now he knew what the mate meant. He didn’twant to curse Mr. Seever for getting him this temporary job … buthe was close. Grunting, George stood in front of the furnace andtossed in another armload of wood. Sweat coated his bare chest andback and rolled down his body soaking him down to his shoes. Stickyand stinky and feverish, he needed a swim in the river. Working inthe Missouri sunshine was nothing compared to the heat of workingin front of a fire. He much preferred being a roustabout to being afireman, but he was lucky to have the job.
Loading the furnace all day, he didn’t get achange of scenery. He didn’t even get to people watch. Passengersweren’t allowed in the boiler room. Whenever he had a free moment,his mind wandered back to Allison. Her image kept him company inthe lonely boiler room.
Not having the energy to climb to hishammock, he sank to the floor. He’d just rest there until he had toadd more wood to the fire. He couldn’t believe how much wood ittook to power the steamboat. In a few more years would there be anyforests
