The Law and Miss Mary (16 page)

She could not speak. Her heart was too full. Her throat too tight. He had said
we.
Not once but several times. It was not a mistaken slip of his tongue. She lifted the hem of her gown, turned and walked to the bow of the boat to look down at the new lines he had drawn in the dust so he could not see the folly of her heart reflected in her eyes. “I think it is a
wonderful
plan, Captain. I should not have thought of anything like it.”

She heard him come toward her and moved to the gangway. He held her elbow to help her down the ramp. She thought of Miss Stewart’s soft roundness and longed to pull her thin arm out of his grip. “With your plan in mind, I am most eager to begin work. I shall start with the cleaning tomorrow.”

“I am certain your brother knows of those who make their living renovating steamboats, Miss Randolph. But if you should need any advice as to who would perform best—”

She shook her head, followed his guidance around a pile of firewood, and continued walking beside him up the levee, acutely aware of the warmth where his hand still held her arm. “I do not have funds to hire the work done, Captain. At least, not yet.”

The din and buzz of activity fell behind them. They crossed Front Street and, at last, he released his hold on her elbow. Disappointment warred with relief. They strolled up Market Street side by side, his long-legged strides making her hurry her steps. “But, as the children in jail cannot wait until I have the funds, I shall begin the work myself—in the morning, before the heat becomes oppressive.”

His steps slowed. “Miss Randolph, that is not wise.”

“But necessary.”

He gripped her elbow again and drew her to a halt. She looked up at him.

“Forgive me.” He released her. “But I do not believe you understand the risk involved. You should not go alone to the steamboat. There are—”

“Unsavory elements on the levee. Yes, I know, Captain. You told me of them that first day.” She resumed walking. They turned the corner and strolled toward her gate. “And, as you also explained that first day, I realize it is your duty to be concerned over the safety of the citizens of St. Louis, but you need have no concern for me. I shall not go to the
Journey’s End
alone. I shall have James escort me there when he goes to the office—and escort me home at dinnertime. And I will stay out of sight in the staterooms while I am working.”

“Miss Randolph—”

“I shall take every precaution, Captain.” She stepped through the gate he opened for her, turned and smiled up at him. She should invite him in—it was only right after all his trouble, but she could not do so. She wanted it too much. “Thank you for your excellent suggestions. I truly do appreciate your help, Captain. Good evening.”

“All right it’s settled then, Jackson. But you and Harmon do not get your money until the job is finished.”

“Ah, Captain, that ain’t right.” The short, wiry man lounging on a cot in the cell hopped to his feet and came to the stand, holding on to the bars beside his friend. “Half now, half when the job is done.”

Sam shook his head. “No. I’ll pay for your meals at the Cock’s Crow while you are renovating the
Journey’s End,
but not one coin in your hand. I’ll not have you drinking up the money—leaving Miss Randolph unprotected and the work undone.”

Sam jiggled the keys in his hand. “And she is not to know I am paying you. You will offer to do the work for the privilege of sleeping on the boat. That will allow you to stay there all night and protect it from looters. Understood?” He jiggled the keys again.

The men looked down at the ring of keys, looked back at him and nodded.

“One more thing.”

Their gazes sharpened.

“You eat your meals at different times. I want one of you on that boat at all times. And if either one of you gets drunk, I’ll throw you back in jail and you will finish out this sentence, as well as serving a new one. Understood?”

“Yeah, we understand. Open the door.”

“In the morning. That’s when the deal starts.”

Sam stepped down the dark hall and glanced at the children sleeping in the last four cells. He had managed to delay things so far, but the mayor had sent word that the children were to be taken to the courthouse tomorrow morning. Work had started on the additions to the building, and the children were to clear away unearthed stones.

Sam turned and headed back for his desk in the other room. It wasn’t that clearing off stones was so hard. There were a lot of farm children who did much heavier work. But they did it because they were part of a family. And he had done much harder work himself when he was these children’s ages. But he had been free. It had been his choice. And he had been paid for his labor. It was not right to make slaves out of these kids.

Sam scowled, stepped through the barred door, then plunked down in his desk chair and threw the key ring in the drawer. Turning that steamboat into an orphanage was a clever idea. Once he had gotten over his shock and started thinking about it, it made good sense. Renovating that boat would cost much less than buying or erecting a building of comparable size, and it could be ready quickly.

The big problem would be a plot of land to settle it on. He laced his fingers behind his head and tilted back on the chair’s hind legs. That could be expensive. And, it appeared Mary Randolph dreamed beyond her means. Nothing wrong with that. He had done that all his life. And he had worked to make those dreams come true. Now…

He rose, stood again in the barred doorway and looked down the hall toward the children’s cells. Now it seemed his dreams would have to wait a little longer—these children couldn’t. Preparing this orphanage could get expensive, and Mary needed money now. There was no hurry for his showcase house. A year or so delay wouldn’t matter. He had to wait on the property anyway.

And he had to convince the spunky Miss Mary Randolph to share it with him.

Mary stared out at the starry sky and reminded herself for the hundredth time since coming home to keep her head about her. To keep the wall in place around her heart. But the truth was, the captain had already breached that wall.

We. If
we
build…If
we
move…
Her heart pounded. It did not matter how often she told herself that his only reason was to help the children. He had still said “we.” He would be working with her.

How would she ever be able to hide her growing feelings for him, from him?

Chapter Eighteen

S
am fought back a smile. Mary was standing against the railing of the main deck of the
Journey’s End
wearing a long white apron over her dress, a large handkerchief tied over her hair. A bucket of water sat at her feet, and she gripped a broom in her hands. But it was not her costume that made him want to grin. It was the wary, combative look in her eyes as she faced Harmon, perched on an upturned wooden barrel. What a woman! But that spunk and that broom wouldn’t hold off anyone set to do her harm.

The smile died. Dealing with a woman as determined as Mary Randolph had its drawbacks when you didn’t have the right to protect her. Sam frowned and trotted up the gangplank, Jackson at his heels. “Is there a problem, Miss Randolph? Jackson said you wanted to see me.”

Her gaze shot to his and for a moment he read the relief, the trust in her eyes. It was so intense, it was almost as if she ran to him. His heart thudded.
God help me never to do anything that will destroy her trust in me again.

“Yes, Captain, I do. It is good of you to come.” Her death grip on the broom relaxed. “These men want to help with the renovation of the boat in exchange for the privilege of sleeping on it. They said you would recommend them as good and honest workers.”

Sam read the doubt in her eyes. He turned to the man beside him. “Run up against some hard times, Jackson?”

“
That’s
the truth, Captain.”

Harmon shook his head. “Yeah, me an’ Jackson are havin’ a
dry
time right now.”

Sam shot him a warning look. “I do know these men to be good workers, Miss Randolph. They know how to get a boat back into shape, and they are quick about doing it. And it is more than a fair deal. Have you cleaning tools and supplies enough for them?”

Mary looked down at her bucket and broom, the pile of rags she had brought from home. “I have only these, but—”

He held up his hand and turned to Jackson. “You and Harmon go to Gardner’s and get what you need for the cleaning. Tell Jim I’ll stand good for it. And see you come straight back. I’ll be waiting here with Miss Randolph.”

He turned back. She was staring at him, her eyes wide. He fastened his gaze on hers and got lost in her eyes. Those brown eyes with tiny, honey-colored specks glowing with approval, warmth…He stepped closer. A deep-rose blush spread over her cheekbones. His heart kicked. She stepped back, groped behind her for the railing and lowered her eyelashes. They rested like an inky smudge on the crest of her cheekbones.

“Y-you are most kind to—” a quick little breath “—to offer to purchase the cleaning supplies, Captain.” Hands rose to fuss with the handkerchief, lowered to grip and un-grip the railing. “But—” a quick glance up at him from under her lashes “—I do not know when I shall be able to—” a hand rose to pull at the knot of the handkerchief again “—to repay you.” Soft, husky,
quavering
voice.

He made her nervous.

So she was not as cool toward him as she portrayed. The knowledge sent joy surging through him. His heart hammered. He wanted to whoop! To turn cartwheels. To show off for her like a ten-year-old. To take her in his arms and kiss her until—

“Capt’n Benton!”

Sam sucked in a breath, blew it out and turned. “What is it?”

“It’s yer man, Buckles. He’s got two mean drunks cornered at the Broken Barge, an’ they done pulled knives. He told me t’ see could I find you.”

Sam braced his hand on the railing and leaped from the deck—“Stay here with Miss Randolph until Jackson comes back!”—and took off at a dead run.

Knives.

Mary shuddered, dipped her cloth in the bucket of vinegar water and scrubbed at the dirty corners of the small panes of glass. On tiptoe, she leaned her head against the window, trying to see through the dirt on the outside to the gangplank. Why did he not return? Of course, he did not say he would. And there was no reason he should. He did not know how she felt about him. How concerned she was about his welfare. Yet, there had been that moment when he had looked at her as if…as if…

“Cease that foolish dreaming this instant, Mary Randolph!” She glared at her dim, blurry reflection in the window. “You have far too much imagination. Captain Benton is courting the beautiful Miss Stewart. Why would he have any interest in the likes of you? You are only placing yourself in danger of being hurt again. Do you never learn?”

She grabbed a cloth from her dwindling pile and swiped the window dry, studying it as if cleanliness were the most important thing in the world. It was difficult to tell if it was clean. She would have to do the windows again when the men had washed the outside. At least most of the grime was gone.

The rag twisted in her hands. She threw it back on the pile, sank down on the edge of the narrow bed and covered her face with her hands. What if he was hurt? Or…or worse.
Oh, please, God, do not let him be hurt. Please, do not let him be hurt.

The worrisome thoughts nagged at her, knotted her stomach. She rose, picked up the bucket and the rags and moved on to the next stateroom. The men had said they would wash the walls and scrub the floors. All she should do was the windows. Thank goodness for the training to be a wife and run a household that she had received from her mother. She was not entirely unequal to the tasks she had taken upon herself.

She sighed, squeezed the extra vinegar water from the rag and swished it over the windowpanes in a first pass. She had to wash each window at least three times to get it clean. She had finished four. That left twenty more to do. On this deck.

“Mary?”

She started, then rushed to the stateroom door. “Here I am, James. Is it dinnertime so soon?”

“Yes.” He frowned, looking over his shoulder toward the stairway. “Who are those men scrubbing down walls?”

“That is Jackson and Harmon.” The vinegar water splashed against the bucket as she dropped in the rag she was using. She looked over her shoulder at the sound of James’s footsteps. He was in the doorway. Grinning.

“What?”

“You look like Edda or Ivy. Only they are cleaner.”

The words pierced the ache inside. The captain had seen her looking like a
maid.
She stuck out her tongue at James so he would not guess how his innocent teasing had hurt her, and took off the apron and handkerchief. “I will tell you all about the men on the way home.” She smoothed her hands over her hair and walked with him to the stairway, forcing one foot to move in front of the other. She did not want to leave. How would she learn if the captain had been wounded? What if he needed care? Would Miss Stewart nurse him back to health?

“Mary?”

She looked up. They were already halfway up the levee.

“You were going to tell me about those men.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” She shoved her anxieties away once more and smiled up at James. “The most amazing thing happened this morning…”

It was good to feel clean again. Mary picked up the green cording that matched the trim on her dress, wrapped it around the loose knot on the crown of her head and tied it in a bow at the back. There. All finished. And she had time to write a letter home before she began the children’s schooling. It would help keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t worry about the captain.

She closed the dressing-room door and stepped to her desk, forcing herself to concentrate. There was so much she wanted to tell her parents. She would start with the events in church and—

“Miss Mary?”

Her heart stopped at the hail. For one wild moment she thought someone had brought her news of the captain. Perhaps Will had heard something. Her skirts billowed out as she turned and hurried to the top of the stairs. “Yes, Will. What is it?”

The boy charged halfway up the stairs. “Mrs. Lucas says, beggin’ yer pardon for the short invitation, but would you please accompany her to the Ladies’ Be—bene—”

“Benevolent?” She made the suggestion absently, still adjusting to the rapid change of subject.

A grin split his face. “Yeah, that’s it. The Ladies’ Benevolent Society meeting this afternoon. She said I was to tell you she wants to carry things in through the back door.”

“Carry things in the back door?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. That’s what she said. I’m to take you, or your answer, to her.”

She did not want to leave the house—in case. But she owed Mrs. Lucas so much…
Carry things in through—
Oh! What had Mrs. Lucas said that day?
But what won’t go in a front door can be carried in the back.
Yes. That was it. But whatever could she mean? Mary sighed. This day was full of surprises. “All right, Will. Go to the kitchen and tell Ivy I will be leaving for the afternoon. I will be down as soon as I fetch my bonnet.”

She hurried to the cupboard, found her green bonnet with the shirred brim and settled it on her head.
Carry things in the back door.
Well that certainly gave her something to think of besides the captain. She pulled the bonnet’s ties into place and knotted them under her chin as she hurried downstairs.

“This here’s the place. She said you was to go on in and ask fer her.”

Mary swept her gaze over the stone house, grander than any she had thus far seen in St. Louis. “All right, Will. Thank you for bringing me. Now go straight home, please.”

She smiled at his nod, opened the gate, walked up to the porch and knocked. The door opened.

“Yes?”

Mary took in the black dress, the white apron and cap. “I was told to meet Mrs. Lucas here for the Ladies’ Benevolent Society meeting.”

“Of course, miss. Right this way.”

Mary stepped into the entrance hall and followed the maid to a room on her right. Muted women’s voices flowed out into the hall.

“The meeting has already started. You can go in, miss.”

Mary stepped through the door that the maid opened. Talk ceased. Heads turned her direction. She smiled, then froze—stared at Levinia Stewart…Levinia’s mother…read their shock. Will had brought her to the wrong—

“Ah, there you are, Mary!”

Mrs. Lucas.
She shifted her gaze. The elderly woman smiled and patted the empty space beside her on a linen-covered settee.

“Come sit beside me, dear. And don’t bother to apologize for being a little tardy. I have already told the ladies it was my fault for issuing my invitation so late in the day. And the meeting has only begun.”

The shock on several of the faces turned to anger. Heads swiveled back toward Mrs. Lucas. The elderly lady seemed not to notice. She merely smiled wider and patted the cushion again.

Mary lifted her chin. Everything in her wanted to leave, but she could not disappoint Mrs. Lucas no matter how uncomfortable she was. She pasted on a smile and made her way to the settee.

Mrs. Lucas beamed up at her. “My, you look lovely today, Mary. The green of your gown suits your vibrant coloring.”

“Isobel, speaking as president of this organization, I would like an explanation, please.”

The frost in the voice could have frozen the river. Mary glanced to identify the speaker. It was Mrs. Stewart. Her dander rose. It was one thing for the woman to freeze her out—it was quite another for her to be disrespectful to Mrs. Lucas.

“Why, I told you I had invited a guest with a worthy project for our society, Margaret.”

What?
Mary jerked her gaze back to Mrs. Lucas, and her shock dissolved into amusement. She had never seen anyone look so sweetly innocent. Clearly, Mrs. Lucas was not disturbed by the glares of outrage aimed at her.

“It is customary to discuss a proposed project with the officers of the society in advance of the meeting, Isobel. And you know it!”

“I do indeed, Margaret. But there simply wasn’t time. You see, the idea came on me suddenly—while I was examining my heart in view of Sunday’s sermon. You know, the way the pastor urged us all to do.” Mrs. Lucas shed her beatific smile over everyone. “Anyway, helping Miss Randolph provide a home for orphaned children would be a very worthwhile project. And fully in keeping with the pastor’s message. And I know it says in the Bible—though I cannot quote it exactly—that pure and undefiled religion has something to do with our treatment of the fatherless.”

Mary scanned the faces of the ladies from beneath her lowered lashes. Some looked abashed, others—including Levinia—seemed as if they would choke on their anger. She looked at Mrs. Lucas in awe. The woman had placed them all in a position where they dare not protest her idea for fear of seeming to lack a Christian attitude.

“Now, as I said, my friend, Mary Randolph—” Mrs. Lucas reached over and patted her hand “—has a perfectly wonderful plan for providing a home for the orphans that presently roam our streets. Of course it is costly to provide for children. But with our help—”

“Mrs. Lucas, I believe this project is unnecessary.” Mary watched as Levinia Stewart turned a dimpled smile on the elderly woman. The smile did not reach her eyes, which continued to glitter with anger. “Father has already put a plan in motion to rid our streets of those fil—fatherless children. And the city of St. Louis will bear the cost of housing them.”

Mary stiffened. Mrs. Lucas squeezed her hand. She took a breath and sat back to let the elderly woman handle Levinia Stewart.

“You are young and without husband or child, Levinia. But, speaking as a mother, I do not consider a jail to be proper housing for a child. Especially one who has done no wrong save the misfortune of losing his or her parents to death. Nor do I believe it is right to force them to labor on city projects to earn their board of scanty meals and hard cots behind bars. And I am certain every mother here would agree with me. Now this is my idea…”

Mary shoved her toe against the porch floor and set the swing moving. Her head was still reeling. She longed to go for a brisk walk, but it was improper—and unsafe—for a young lady to do so in the evening without an escort.

She frowned and pushed with her toes again. Without James home to accompany her, she was confined to the porch and small yard.