Читать книгу Where Heaven Begins - Rosanne Bittner - Страница 17

Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

—St. Matthew 10:31

Elizabeth stirred, for a brief moment remembering lying in bed at home in San Francisco, the smell of bacon cooking downstairs, knowing her mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She loved those moments, the peace, the feeling of love and safety.

In seconds she came fully awake, realizing she was not in her own bed at home at all and gradually remembering where she really was. She lay still a moment, blinking open her eyes to see through the porthole in the steel door of the cabin. It was light out. How long had she slept? She turned over, at first watching a small fire in the potbelly stove, then realizing through the bit of light that came through the porthole that a man was sitting on the floor near the stove, quietly smoking. He had long legs and wore denim pants.

It was only then that she became fully aware of where she was and what had happened. She jerked the blankets to her neck. She put a hand to her hair, realizing it was entirely undone.

“Good morning,” came Clint’s low voice.

Elizabeth thought a moment. Morning? The accident had happened midmorning. Had she slept such a short while? “I…good morning,” she answered, feeling embarrassed and awkward. “What time is it?”

He took a long drag on his cigarette, then reached over and flicked it through the slats of the wood burner. “About nine-thirty.”

Elizabeth frowned. Nine-thirty? “But…it was later than that when I fell overboard.”

“Yup.” Clint sneezed before continuing. “About twenty-two hours ago.”

“What! You mean it’s the next day?”

“Yes, ma’am. You’ve had a right good sleep.”

Astounded, Elizabeth put her hand to her mouth. “I don’t believe it!”

Clint stretched, sneezed again, excused himself. “Well, it’s true. We’ve been stranded here since the accident. They’re hoping to load some of the passengers onto the next ship that comes by, then more on the next and so forth, till we’re all off and on our way to Skagway. We ought to be able to get off later today and make Skagway by tomorrow morning.”

Elizabeth rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed, and so sorry! Where on earth did you sleep last night?”

“Outside under the stars. Doesn’t bother me much. I’ve spent plenty of nights sleeping on the hard ground with a saddle for a pillow. I just now came in to get warm.”

Elizabeth struggled to untangle her thoughts. She pulled the blankets clear up to her nose. “This is terrible. I’m so sorry, and so embarrassed.”

“You already said that, and I have no idea why you think that way.”

“But I’ve put you out…and what must the other men think, me sleeping here in your cabin.”

He sneezed yet again, then cleared his throat. “They can think what they want. Besides, most of them are only concerned with how soon they can get on another ship and get themselves to Skagway. They’re all pretty upset that they’ve had a setback, all anxious to get to their gold. I can tell you right now that most of them won’t find any. I can think of a lot of ways to make good money a lot faster and with less discomfort.”

By killing wanted men? She wanted to ask.

Clint leaned forward and rubbed at the back of his neck, squinting slightly as though in pain. Then he sneezed again.

“Are you catching a cold, Mr. Brady?”

He reached toward a saddle bag and pulled out a handkerchief. “I’ll be all right.”

She watched him quietly a moment. “You could get very sick, after what you did yesterday. Those men and I owe you a lot, me especially. That’s the second time you’ve helped me.” Her throat swelled with a sudden urge to cry. “I was so sure I was going to die. How can I ever, ever thank you enough?”

He shrugged. “I just reacted. I used to be a pretty good swimmer.” He leaned his head back against the wall.

“I think I remember you saying something about Lake Michigan to someone. Is that where you learned to swim?”

He waited a moment to answer. “I was a kid,” he finally told her. “I grew up near Chicago. Then my folks got tired of city life and moved to Nebraska to farm. My mother died when I was seventeen, my father the next year, which left me on my own. I didn’t much like the humidity and the mosquitoes in that part of the country, so I headed for California. I’d heard others talk about how nice it was there.”

Elizabeth listened to the sound of heated wood snapping and popping in the stove. It relaxed her. “My parents came west from Illinois, too, only farther south from Chicago. I never got to see the Great Lakes. Are they as big and beautiful as I’ve heard?”

He drew a deep breath. “From what I can remember. It’s been years. I do remember that Lake Michigan was so big that you couldn’t see the other side of it. Big ships, much bigger than this steamer, would dock in Chicago, bringing goods from practically all over the world, mostly from Europe and, of course, from places like Boston and New York City.” He rubbed at his eyes. “But that was a long time ago. Chicago is probably all changed and a heck of a lot bigger by now.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. It must have been hard for you. It sounds like you had no brothers or sisters.”

“Neither one.” The air hung quiet for a moment. “I still miss them sometimes. They were good Christian people.” He sneezed again and kept rubbing at his eyes.

Elizabeth was surprised at his reference to “good Christian people.” This man apparently had had a Christian upbringing. What on earth had turned him to the life he led now? Youthful curiosity left her dying to ask, but good manners meant not prying into other people’s business, especially not a man she suspected gave such information only when good and ready.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” she told him. “If you will leave for a while I’ll get dressed, you can have your bed back.” Privately she thought how wonderful it would feel to stay in the bed all day. “And again I’m sorry to take it from you for so long. I must have been far more exhausted than I thought. All the time I’ve been on this boat I’ve barely slept for all the noise and stench below, and worrying about someone trying to rob me. And then nearly drowning yesterday…” Again she remembered her mother calling to her. “My mother’s sweet spirit must be very strong.”

Clint frowned. “What do you mean?”

Elizabeth turned on her side and curled up. “She called to me. She’s the reason you jumped into the water, you know…my mother…and God.”

He grunted a laugh. “They were, were they?”

“I’m serious, Mr. Brady. They used you to help me.”

He simply chuckled wryly and shook his head.

“You don’t believe in the spirits of dead loved ones being able to reach out to you?”

He took several long seconds to answer. “Maybe…sometimes.” Again he sneezed. He took a moment to blow his nose. “I’m surprised you believe in such things. Isn’t it anti-Christian to believe in spirits?”

“Oh, on the contrary. For one thing, we don’t really die anyway, not those who truly have loved and served God. We just travel heaven’s pathway to a beautiful home filled with peace and flowers and the glory of God. I like to believe that since our spirits simply take on a new form and live on with God, He allows us to hover close to our loved ones still living on earth and to help them however we can. God surely has enough to do. I believe He uses our spirits to help Him with His constant vigil to protect and love His children on earth.”

He shook his head again, grunting a little as he stood up and stretched. “Well, I don’t see where He does a very good job of protecting those still on earth. And me managing to find you like I did was just a quirk—nothing special.”

She smiled softly. “You don’t really believe that. The other men you helped were thrashing and yelling, easier to find. But me, I was sinking far below the surface, yet you found me. No one could ever convince me that God and my mother didn’t have something to do with that.”

Clint rummaged in one of his own carpet bags and pulled out yet another clean shirt. He began unbuttoning the one he wore, and Elizabeth’s eyes widened when she realized he was going to take it off in front of her! Other than black men working on the wharf in San Francisco, she’d never seen a man with his shirt off! She pulled the blankets over her head. “Mr. Brady!”

“What?”

“Couldn’t you wait until I’m gone to change your shirt?”

This time his light laughter sounded genuine. “You’ve never seen a man with his shirt off?”

“Of course not!”

“Not even your father or your brother?”

“Heavens no!”

Elizabeth heard the soft rustle of clothes. “Lady, your situation is even worse than I thought.”

Elizabeth waited, refusing to uncover her eyes.

“You can look now,” he finally told her.

Slowly she pulled the covers away to see him wearing a shirt and a leather vest. He was leaning over pulling on socks and boots.

“I think these boots have dried out,” he told her as he finished dressing. “By the way, in case you didn’t notice, I brought your things up from below, and I laid your wet clothes around the room to dry out.” He sneezed again. “I’ll leave for a while and you can dress and go to the kitchen and get something to eat, such as it is. At least you can get some hot coffee. You might as well pack up as best you can and be prepared to leave the ship later today. Next stop is Skagway. It’s a good thing you got some rest. You’ll need it when you reach that town. Rough and lawless, they say.” He straightened. “Did your money survive?”

“Yes, it’s under your mattress.”

He grinned and shook his head again. “Don’t tell me you thought I’d steal it.”

“Well, I…I just wasn’t sure where to put it.”

He chuckled. “Just make sure you stuff it back into your camisole.” He winked. “Where it’s dang sure safe.”

He walked out the door, and Elizabeth wanted to crawl through the cracks in the floors and disappear. She looked around the room to see that Clint had indeed hung her clothes all about the cabin to dry—including her camisole, under slips and drawers!

She closed her eyes in humiliation.