A Most Unsuitable Match (10 page)

Hannah’s body continued its rhythmic swaying as she kneaded the mass of dough on the breadboard before her. “Where you been, little miss? Didn’t think it would take you so long.” She glanced up and frowned. “I take it things didn’t go so well with Mr. Vandekamp? What kind of help you need?”

Fannie shrugged. “I’ll tell you about the bank meeting later. The
Delores
is at the levee. I talked to Captain Busch. He remembers Aunt Edith and he smiled when he saw her photograph. His steamer leaves for Fort Benton tomorrow and Captain Busch agreed to take me—us. Will you come?”

Hannah stopped kneading. “What do you mean he’s agreed to take us? Take us
where
?”

“I told you. To Fort Benton. To find Aunt Edith. Please say you’ll come.”

“Slow down, little miss. Exactly how did we get from asking Mr. Vandekamp about your aunt, to going to Montana? That’s a mighty far leap.”

“If I slow down I’m afraid I’ll talk myself out of it.” In a rush, Fannie related what had gone on at the bank, how she’d ended up on board the
Delores
, and how she’d decided to head for Montana. “I know it’s . . . a far leap, as you said—”

“That it is,” Hannah said with a nod. She went back to working the bread dough. “You’ve had yourself quite a day. Let’s just think things through a bit before—”

“I
have
thought things through.” Fannie walked to the table. She watched Hannah’s arthritic hands plunge into the dough, kneading, folding, turning, kneading, folding, turning. She sat down. “I’ve thought them through for the last few nights. I’m exhausted from thinking.” Her voice wavered. “I told you. Mr. Vandekamp wouldn’t tell me anything. He forbade me to even
try
to find Aunt Edith. Talking to him is like talking to someone with cotton in their ears. I might as well not open my mouth at all.” Frustrated tears slid down her cheeks. “He threatened to dismiss
you
, Hannah.”

Hannah looked up. “Did he, now?”

“He said I need someone younger to help me entertain.” She swiped at her tears. “I can’t
breathe
in this house anymore. Everything I thought I knew has been shaken loose.” She paused. “But in the middle of the falling apart, there’s Aunt Edith. And Captain Busch
smiled
when he saw her picture. He said all kinds of nice things about her. I want to try to find her. And then I’ll come home and be a good girl.”

“You’re already a good girl.”

“Tell that to Mr. Vandekamp.” Fannie forced a laugh. “I am
not
getting married just because he says I should. And I am
not
replacing you.” She looked toward the hall and murmured, “Maybe we could take in boarders in the fall.”

Hannah ignored the comment about taking in boarders. “You know anything about this Fort Benton place?”

“Nothing very . . . charming.”

“And how long is the trip?”

“Could be as much as ten weeks.”

“There and back?”

Fannie shook her head. “Just to get there.”

“So . . . this adventure of ours is going to take all summer and then some.”

When Fannie nodded, Hannah returned to her bread making. She formed the loaves, then slid them into the waiting bread pans and put them in the oven. Finally, she turned around and, as she was wiping her hands, said, “Walker and Tommy Cooper are out back trying to rescue your mother’s rose garden. I’ll fetch them and send them into the attic after a couple of trunks. I don’t expect you’ll be needing ball gowns, so maybe one of those smaller trunks in the northeast corner will do. I barely need one, but then again, I don’t suppose it would be a bad idea to pack our own bedding and some decent towels. And some books. And our needlework.” She glanced at the oven. “Guess I’ll give the bread to Walker and Tommy. From what I know about steamboats, they do serve decent food.”

Fannie clasped her hands. “You’ll go?”

“Can’t see as I have much choice. With Mr. Dandy-VandeKam planning to get rid of me anyway, I might as well hightail it along with you.” She shrugged. “And besides that, I cannot imagine facing your mother on the other side and having to explain how it was that I stood on the levee and watched you float away into the wilderness towards the good Lord only knows what.” Her voice softened. “I’ve had my time of heading into the wilderness, little miss. I was young and as terrified as a body can be, but things worked out. If the good Lord undertakes for us the way he did for me back then, we’ll do all right.”

Fannie jumped up and threw her arms around Hannah. “Thank you.” She kissed the old woman on the cheek.

Hannah hugged her back, even as she said, “See if you still want to thank me after we’ve been on that river for a month.”

Abstain from all appearance of evil.

1 
T
HESSALONIANS 5:22

The sun had just begun to streak the horizon with golden bars of light when the
Delores
’s whistle shrieked, and Fannie exited the cabin she and Hannah would share throughout the long journey. With a chorus of shouts from the roustabouts casting off her lines, the shabby vessel backed away from the St. Charles landing and headed into the river channel.

As the span of brown water between the deck and the shore grew wider, Hannah came to stand alongside her at the railing. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I do believe we’re gonna have us a fine spring day. Would you look at that shore go by. I declare, it’s almost like flying.”

Fannie picked at a bit of paint flaking off the rail in front of her. “More like limping.”

“Where’s my adventure-seeking little gal?”

Fannie forced a nervous laugh. “Back on the levee.” She blinked away tears as she looked toward home. “Do you think Minette will ever speak to me again? What will Mr. Hennessey and Mr. Beauvais think? What will Mr. Vandekamp
do
?”

“Mr. Vandekamp won’t be able to do anything,” Hannah said. “Not without Minnette’s pa and fiancé agreeing to it. Those letters you left made that clear.” She smiled. “As for Miss Minette, she will likely be upset. I believe this is the first foolish thing you’ve ever done without her. She won’t appreciate being left behind.”

Fannie choked back a laugh. Hannah was likely right about Minette. She’d be upset, but she’d understand. Minette always understood. The men, on the other hand . . .

Her voice wavered. “I’ve asked a lot of Mr. Hennessey and Minette’s father.”

“Nothing they didn’t offer.” Hannah chuckled. “I suppose it’s wrong of me, but I can’t help but enjoy the picture of Mr. Vandekamp learning the news. He’s gonna hate having Mr. Hennessey and Minette’s papa looking over his shoulder.” She sniffed. “Wonder how
he’ll
like being dismissed.”

“I would never have let that happen to you,” Fannie said. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“I do,” Hannah said. “Besides, the man hasn’t been born who can separate me from my little miss.” She squeezed Fannie’s hand. They stood quietly for a few moments. Finally, Hannah gestured toward the sun-bathed shoreline. “I never thought I’d see anything farther west than St. Charles, and here we are, sliding by all kind of places and headed for Montana. Indians . . . buffalo . . . tepees!” Her eyes shone with excitement. “We’re gonna be just fine, little miss. You’ll see.”

“So . . . you don’t think I’m a fool?”

“I didn’t say that,” Hannah teased. “But
land sakes
, child, if the good Lord couldn’t use fools and foolishness, he wouldn’t get much done.”

Fannie forced a smile. She didn’t know all that much about how “the good Lord” did things, but Hannah’s enthusiasm did help her feel better. “I didn’t think we’d be the only women on board,” she said, gazing behind them and up the row of mostly empty cabins.

“I doubt that’ll last,” Hannah said. “How many stops are on that card the captain gave you?”

Fannie reached in the small silk purse dangling from her wrist and pulled the card out.
Distances on Missouri River from St. Louis to . . .
Two columns listed stops along the way. “At least three dozen,” Fannie said, and handed the card to Hannah.

“Eighty-nine miles to Washington,” she read aloud. “Four hundred five to Kansas City.” She looked up. “Bet we take on some ladies in Kansas City.” Glancing back down at the card in her hand, she shook her head as she read off, “ ‘Two thousand, six hundred, sixty-three miles. Seems like Fort Benton must be halfway to heaven and back.’ ”

The whistle sounded again. Fannie wondered how many more she would hear before St. Charles came into view again. Before she saw Minette again . . . and had to face Mr. Vandekamp. Would she have met Aunt Edith by then? Would she have answers to some of her questions about her parents?

She looked down at the river, taking little comfort in the notion that the water wasn’t deep.
Halfway to heaven
, that’s what Hannah had said about the distance they were about to travel. Fannie only hoped she wasn’t taking them halfway to Hades.

It was time to read Aunt Edith’s letters again.

Whether it was Samuel’s size or Lamar’s skin color that did the trick, none of the other hands or deck passengers challenged the two bunking beneath a wagon bound for Fort Claggett. It was the least crowded square footage on the entire main deck, and Samuel was not only happy to share it with Lamar Davis but also grateful for the old man’s companionship. There was just something about the old guy. Something peaceful.

Hauling wood was hard on Lamar, and they had to haul a lot of it. The
Delores
’s three boilers had an insatiable appetite for the stuff, burning through so many cords a day Samuel lost count. The steamer stopped twice a day to take on wood. Even though Lamar’s weathered face often contorted with pain as he worked, a low hum accompanied just about everything he did.

“How do you do that?” Samuel finally asked.

“Do what?”

“Take everything in stride. You never get riled. You keep calm no matter how much Captain Busch yells. I see you’re hurting when we haul wood. But you hum. How do you do it?”

Lamar chuckled. “Wasn’t always that way, son. I’m no saint. I just don’t have the energy for grumbling.” He nodded Samuel’s way. “Can’t say as I hear you complaining much, either, and I notice you’ve got nearly raw hands where you need callouses. I’d bet you’ve got a few aches and pains, too.”

Samuel only shrugged. His propensity for complaining aloud had been erased long ago by the tip of Pa’s buggy whip. But just because Samuel didn’t make noise didn’t mean he didn’t
think
complaints. Lamar just plain didn’t seem to be bothered by things. That was what Samuel wanted to understand, if only they ever had a chance to really talk. But Lamar was snoring seconds after the two of them settled beneath the wagon each night, and Samuel barely made it through a page of his mother’s Bible before he followed suit. Some nights he didn’t even make it that far.

In light of how quickly Lamar fell asleep, it was strange how attuned he was to the slightest change in the steamer. The first time they struck a sandbar, Lamar woke with the first tremor. Before Samuel had so much as raised his head, the older man was scooting out from beneath the wagon, tucking in his shirt, and hurrying off.

Samuel moved slower, knowing that it would be at least a few minutes before the crew knew whether they were going to grasshopper or double trip. Lamar, on the other hand, would be up in the wheelhouse conferring with the captain and his mate about what to do this time. Busch might grumble and complain about the old man’s slowness at hauling, but he respected Lamar’s good sense and valued his opinion.

Delays were a normal part of the journey, but that didn’t mean Captain Busch accepted them without a fight. As the days passed, Samuel learned firsthand just how many things there were to fight. Sunshine was pleasant for everyone, but at the right angle the glare could obscure the surface of the water. That made it difficult to judge the speed of the current and to read swirls and ripples indicating rocks and snags lurking below. Rain not only made everyone miserable but also erased any ability to read the water. Wind could actually topple the top-heavy shallow-drafted vessel. Captain Busch seemed to take all of nature’s tricks as a personal affront, piloting with a combination of bravado and brilliance that had won him no small measure of fame in the river towns bordering the fickle Missouri River.