Moonlight on Water (2 page)

Rachel hurried to the front door of her light blue cottage. The door was a bright red that she had painted herself. Those who lived in the cottages were allowed to paint them any color they wished, although each of the rooms in the common house were identical.

Her smile returned when she entered her home. She and Merrill had brought only a few things with them when they came to River's Haven. He had not wanted to take anything, but Rachel treasured these few connections with the past. Save for a rag doll that she had given Kitty Cat, a small metal pot that held colorful and odd-shaped stones found by the river, and the guitar that her father had taught her to play were the only things that were truly hers. Everything else Merrill had sold or given away.

There had been those who pleaded with her to stay in the small Ohio town where she had been born, but, after so recently suffering her father's passing within a year of her mother's death, she did not want to lose all her family. So she had come with Merrill, hoping, as he did, that they would find a new family at River's Haven.

Merrill had found that family quickly when he married his first wife, Susan Tyler. She had three other sisters living in River's Haven. Her youngest, Carol, had become Merrill's second wife eighteen months later.

Rachel had tried to make a life for herself here, too. She discovered that her skills with numbers could be put to good use in helping manage the financial business of the Community. The position, which she could never have aspired to in the world beyond River's Haven, gave her a great deal of satisfaction. Since their arrival, she had let herself believe that contentment in a job well done was the same as being happy. She had been mistaken, for, although her days had been filled with the hubbub of the Community, each night she slept in silence in her narrow room in the common house.

When Mr. Atlee, who brought paperwork from the metal shop, came back from the village of Haven with news of an orphan train coming from New York City, Rachel had decided to build herself a family with one of the orphans. The approval from the Assembly of Elders for her to bring a child to join the Community had come swiftly, and she had gone to Haven. There, she had met Katherine Mulligan, her very dear Kitty Cat.

Rachel sighed as she untied her simple bonnet and put it on the table. She walked along the short hallway that led to the two bedrooms that were even smaller than the ones in the common house. Kitty Cat's had a narrow bed and several hooks for the little girl's clothes. In the middle of the bed, waiting for Kitty Cat's return, was her precious rag doll.

On the other side of the hallway was Rachel's bedroom. It contained a double bed and a single chest of drawers. A writing table with a bench was set to one side, and there was a washstand beneath the window. Her beloved guitar, which Kitty Cat loved to hear her play, leaned against the headboard. A rag rug on the floor added the only color to the room, but the view through the open window was so glorious that she never noticed how plain the room was.

She loved to stand by the window and watch the wide river slip between the banks. The Ohio River, which was framed by trees on both sides, could be bright blue or a ferocious gray, depending on the weather. Boats followed its currents or fought their way upriver. In the winter, when the leaves had fallen, she could see a small farm on the Kentucky side of the river. The people there followed the same patterns as the residents of River's Haven, but the river separated them completely. The closest bridge was more than a day south.

Today she did not linger to enjoy the view. She dropped to sit on the bed. The iron springs creaked, but she paid no attention.

How was she going to tell Kitty Cat that her request had been denied?

“Rachel!” Kitty Cat's voice rang through the cottage. “Rachel, are you here?”

Knowing that she could not lie to the little girl, Rachel stood and went into the front room. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw how dusty Kitty Cat's bright red curls were. Dirt was painted across the child's freckled cheeks. One stocking was drooping over her high shoes, and the other had been ripped across the knee.

“What have you been up to?” Rachel asked as she held out her arms.

Kitty Cat hugged her enthusiastically. “I've been learning to play baseball.”

She was about to remark that baseball was a boy's game, but she bit back her comment. Here in River's Haven all the children were supposed to be raised without the social bigotry beyond its borders. A girl could play ball, and a boy might sit and enjoy a doll, if that was what the child wished.

“Kitty Cat, I have something to tell you.”

Her voice must have given away her dismay, because Kitty Cat's smile vanished and tears boiled up into her large brown eyes. The little girl gulped back a sob when Rachel took her by the hand and sat on the well-worn sofa, sinking deeply into the cushions.

“Did you speak to the Assembly of Elders?” whispered the little girl.

“Yes,” Rachel said as softly. “They said they don't want you to go to Haven now.”

Kitty Cat burst into tears. Sobbing, she pressed her face against Rachel's knees. Rachel held the little girl while she wept. She leaned her head against Kitty Cat's unruly red curls, knowing that she had broken this most precious promise. She was unsure if she could persuade the little girl to trust her again.

When Rachel drew her up to sit beside her, the little girl regarded Rachel with large watery eyes. She looked away, but not before she saw the pain on Kitty Cat's face. She wanted to keep the little girl from seeing hers.

She took Kitty Cat's hand and grimaced when she felt the dampness. Kitty Cat had been using the back of it to wipe her nose again.

Too distressed to chastise her, Rachel said, “I am so sorry, Kitty Cat. I will ask again in a few weeks at the regular Community meeting. Then, they might agree.”

“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.”