River Queen (37 page)

“Yes, I have met them,” Julienne said, frowning. “You know, we don’t have slaves on the boat, Lyle. Caesar and Libby have been free for more than five years now.”

He laughed, a manly guffaw that normally Julienne found attractive. Today she found it rather uncouth. “Julienne, my dear, that just shows that you’re not a very good businesswoman. You never pay for labor if you can afford to buy a slave. They belong to me, and I’m loaning them to you. That way, they’re free, to you. And so you won’t have to use my money to pay them.”

He had been saying things such as that, and they made Julienne uneasy. She had thought that once she put up her steamboat as security for a loan, the money she got would be
her
money. But Lyle kept talking about
his
money, and somehow it made Julienne feel cheapened, as if she had indeed been bought and was being paid for.

He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, for he took her arm and said, “Let’s go down to the main deck. I want to introduce you to your new crew.”

“But I don’t want a new crew,” Julienne protested. “I want the old one.”

“You can keep the three men you have, Julienne. But of course you must have always known that three men is not a crew, it’s three slaves. To run this boat right you have to have at least six crewmen, three firemen, a first and second mate, three engineers, two pilots, and a captain.”

“That many!” Julienne blurted out. “But why?”

As if he were explaining to a rather dull child, he said slowly, “Because that way you can run twenty-four hours a day. Three eight-hour shifts for the engine room and firebox, two twelve-hour shifts for the pilots. No passenger boat can afford to stop every twelve hours for a pilot to rest.”

“Oh, I see,” Julienne said uncertainly. “I suppose that they are all going to cost a great deal of money?”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll talk about it later.” They had reached the main deck, where a group of men stood just inside the main cargo doors. When Julienne and Lyle walked up, they turned and removed their hats and bowed.

Lyle said, “Gentlemen? Please welcome Miss Ashby, she’s come to visit her new crew.” Turning to Julienne, he said, “I have a surprise for you. Of course you remember Mr. Tisdale. Well, he’s going to be your new captain.”

Julienne remembered his cousin from when they had dined at his home. He was a man of about forty, nice-looking in a feminine sort of way. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a thin blond mustache. He had a very subservient air toward his cousin. Nervously he bowed over her hand and mumbled civilities.

Lyle continued, “And of course you already know Mr. Kahn. He’s your new first mate.”

“Yes, I know him,” Julienne said icily. “And the
River Queen
already has a first mate, Lyle. Your pardon, of course, Mr. Kahn.”

“Of course,” he muttered, with a small mocking bow. His cruel features mirrored a sort of condescending amusement.

“I understand, Julienne, but Mr. Kahn has a lot of experience supervising work crews. It really doesn’t matter what type of crew it is, as long as a man can manage them well.”

Julienne turned to look up at him, her dark eyes stormy. “Lyle, Ring Macklin is the first mate of the
River Queen
. That’s all there is to it.”

“All right, Julienne,” he said with a forced smile, and then he introduced her to Nathan Killingsworth. “He’s our first pilot. He was second on the
Columbia Lady
, but I’ve promoted him.”

He was a severe-looking man, about five-ten, slender and wiry. He had nondescript brown hair, but his eyes were a cold gray. Unsmiling, he bent over Julienne’s hand and said, “Pleasure, ma’am.”

“Mr. Killingsworth, my brother had started to learn the river with Dal—with our last pilot. I hope you’ll continue to teach him, he seems to have a knack for it, and—”

He interrupted her impatiently. “I don’t take cub pilots, Miss Ashby. They’re just a nuisance.”

“It’s her brother, he’s an owner,” Lyle said in a warning tone. “You’ll take him.”

Killingsworth looked icily angry, but he merely said, “Sure, Mr. Dennison. You’re the boss.”

With outrage Julienne was thinking,
No, I’m the boss,
but before she could frame anything to say, Lyle was taking her arm and leading her back up the steps to the Texas deck again. “You don’t need to meet the roughnecks,” Lyle said. “Your second pilot won’t be here until tomorrow. But I’ve got very good news, Julienne. I’ve already got the
River Queen
a load to New Orleans. We’ve got all of the staterooms filled, a full cargo, and thirty deck passages.”

“Really, Lyle?” Julienne said now excited. “When do we leave?”

“August 1. In three days.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Lyle!” she said happily. “So soon!”

They reached the doors leading to the stateroom hall, and Lyle turned to her. “Of course, you do know, Julienne, that you’re going to have to pay the captain and the pilots their salary for the month ahead, not after the month is over. That’s customary.”

“Oh,” Julienne said doubtfully. “And—how much, exactly, are we paying the pilots and the captain? No more than the ‘customary’ amount, I hope.”

“No, we got them at the going rates. Two hundred dollars for the captain and three hundred fifty for the pilots.”

“Nine hundred dollars!” Julienne blurted out. “But—” She started to object, but she couldn’t think of anything to object to. Dallas had told her a long time ago that pilots were commanding between three and four hundred dollars a month. She had no idea what captains made—in truth, she didn’t even know what captains
did
except mingle with passengers—so she could hardly object to anything that Lyle told her.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the money,” he said to Julienne reassuringly. He took her hand and squeezed it, and Julienne thought that he might have actually tried to kiss her, right there in broad daylight, except there were still men in the ballroom painting the window frames. “I wish we could go out tonight, but I’m afraid I have a previous engagement. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes. Yes, tomorrow,” she said in some confusion. He left, and she fled to her room. As she thought over the last eight days, and the things that had happened, and some of the things that Lyle had said, and Ritter Kahn and Nathan Killingsworth, and the slaves that the
River Queen
now had, dark and frightening thoughts began to grow in her mind. Moving very slowly, as if she were an elderly woman, she opened the bottom drawer of the little chest and took out a sheaf of papers, folded into thirds. It was her contract with Lyle Dennison.

She skimmed over the first page, which she had already read, when she signed the contract. But she had not read the entire thing; Lyle had told her that it was eleven pages of legalese, and that the payments were going to be ninety-four dollars and forty-two cents per month. As she read, she realized with a shock that the term of the contract was for ten years. She would have to pay one hundred dollars a month for ten years to pay this loan off? With dread she kept reading, and on the very last page, she drew in a ragged breath and let it out in a moan.

Rising, she stumbled to her bedside and fell to her knees, burying her face in her crossed arms. “Oh, Lord God, what have I done? How could I have been so blind? Oh, please forgive me, Lord! Right now that’s all I care about. You are all I have, only You are faithful and true, and I think I really know it and believe it this time. Whatever happens, if we lose the
Queen
, if I never see Dallas again, if by my stupidity I’ve lost everything for my family and we are desolate, I will cling only to You.” Julienne prayed for long hours and finally fell into bed and slept better than she had slept for weeks.

DARCY LOOKED DOWN AT the palms of his hands. He had worked blisters on them but finally they had gone away, and he had the beginning of calluses. He had never done manual labor before, and he didn’t much care for it now. But he had learned a lot about steamboats, and now he was seriously considering becoming a pilot. And he knew good pilots knew a lot about engines, so he still came down to watch Rev work, and he even pitched in sometimes. Today they had two new pilots that Rev was breaking in, showing them all the features of the
River Queen
’s engine, cooing over it as if it were a cute kitten. The two new engineers, both gruff men, one of about thirty and one of about forty, said very little, but it was plain they were interested. They began talking about some of the new parts that Lyle Dennison had ordered, and Rev came over to talk to Darcy.

“They don’t seem to be quite as helplessly in love with that engine as you are, Rev,” he joked.

“Ah, they seem like good engineers. Neither one of them knows the Lord, though. I’m going to have to do some heavy praying for them,” he said airily.

“Yeah, put in a request to the Big Man Upstairs for me, too, would you? Ask him to smite Ritter Kahn down dead,” Darcy said sarcastically.

“He’s not a godly man, that’s for sure and certain. He really lays out on these new black crewmen, and I don’t like that one bit. Doubt the Lord does either, though it’s not my place to go asking Him to up and kill somebody dead.”

“I know, I know,” Darcy rasped. “Just joking. Sort of.”

Just then they heard shouting up in the boiler room, and both Darcy and Rev hurried up to see what was going on.

One of the blacks who was hauling wood from the deck into the firebox stood cowering, while Kahn was yelling in his face. “You’re as slow as a half-dead mule, boy! When your fireman calls for wood, you get up and move!” Suddenly he reached out and struck him with his fist. The black man was small, and his head flew backwards, the cut on his eyebrow gushing scarlet blood.

“Please don’t do that, Mr. Kahn,” Jesse protested. “I ain’t needin’ that wood in split seconds, I give ’em plenty of notice ’fore it’s time to load her up.”

Darcy said angrily, “You don’t have to hit these men, Kahn. They’ll work without getting beaten every time they turn around.”

“You keep your mouth shut, girlie boy, you may be an Ashby but you got no business down here. As you for you, Fire-boy, I don’t need any help to run this crew.”

Jesse had gone to kneel by the man and look at his eye. “This here’s a bad cut, Mr. Ashby. I think it’s going to need a stitch or two.”

Kahn pulled the stick that he carried at his side out of his belt, swung it and struck Jesse across his broad back. The blow of the leaded weapon drove Jesse to the deck. “You got no word to say to nobody but me down here, boy!” he snarled. He raised the stick again.

Coolly Darcy reached out and picked up a shovel. He swung it as he would a baseball bat and it hit Kahn squarely in the back of the head. He collapsed instantly, dropping his stick.

“That made a funny
thunk
,” Rev observed. “
Whanged
almost like his head was made outta rock.”

“I thought it sounded more like a
whang
, like hitting an iron skillet,” Darcy said.

They went to help Jesse up, who protested that he was fine. “Good, if you’re sure you’re okay,” Darcy said. “Take this man to Doc Needles to get sewed up, will you, Jesse? Here’s some money.”

They stood up and looked around. All of the new crewmen were blacks, and they stared at Kahn’s prone figure with fear on every face. With a disgusted grunt Darcy reached down and picked up Kahn’s stick, walked through the cargo area out to the main deck, and tossed the stick into the river. Returning, he and Rev stared down at Kahn solemnly.

“Think he’s hurt bad?” Rev asked.

“I don’t know, and don’t much care. I’d hate for him to die right here in our firebox, though. Trash up the place.”

Julienne came running in then. She had seen Jesse taking the bleeding man up to the boardwalk. “What’s happened, Darcy? Oh,” she said when she saw Kahn lying face down on the floor. “What happened to him?”

“I hit him. With a shovel,” Darcy said helpfully.

Julienne studied him. “Well, he’s not dead. I can hear him snorting. What’s he doing down here anyway? I told Lyle that Ring is the first mate, and we didn’t need Kahn here.”

“I don’t know,” Darcy said. “I’m so used to seeing him walking around beating people, it just slipped my mind to ask his exact position.”

Rev shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never come in the engine room and hit anybody.”

One of the crewmen spoke up in a frightened whisper, “Mr. Ashby, suh?”

Darcy turned. The young man that spoke was stout, and looked like he was about fourteen years old. “Yes? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“I’m Tommy, suh. Mr. Kahn, there, he tole us that Mr. Dennison made him crew chief. I didn’t know what that means, except that he must be our boss.”

“Are you a slave, Tommy?” Julienne asked abruptly.

“No, ma’am, I works on the river, have for five years now, most always hauling wood for the firemen. And I ain’t never heard of no crew chief on no steamer.” He was growing more confident since he had Darcy’s and Julienne’s interest.

“That’s because there’s no such thing,” Rev said dryly. “First mate is boss of the crew, that’s what a first mate is.”