Read Online River Queen by Gilbert Morris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gilbert Morris
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parasol, and rain dripped dismally from each point in a steady stream. “We’re here, Miss Julienne. This is your boat, I guess.”
Julienne stepped out, and immediately her boots filled with mud and water and the hem of her wide hoop skirt was sopping at least eight inches up. Blinking, she looked at the steamer rocking on the uneasy river.
“But that’s so little,” she said. “Are you sure that’s the Missouri Dream ?”
“Yes, ma’am, saw it plain as plain painted on the side when we drove up,” Caesar answered. “Can’t see it through this soup, I know, but that’s her.”
The Missouri Dream was a sturdy steamer, carrying both passengers and freight. She was fairly new, and so wasn’t at all worn or shabby, for her owners kept her up very well. But she was small. At least, to Julienne, she looked tiny and scruffy, and that was probably because the last steamer she had seen had been two weeks ago, the queenly Columbia Lady . In fact, she had had a vague notion that she was sailing on that grand ship. Felicia Moak had told her that Lyle Dennison had indeed bought the Lady , and being reminded of it she had mentioned it to her father and told him that she wanted to go on that boat to New Orleans. But then she vaguely recalled that he had said something about the Columbia Lady being prohibitively expensive. Still, Julienne was irritated.
“Oh, very well. Come on, Tyla, let’s get in out of this downpour. I’ll see if I can get one of the crewmen to fetch my trunks.” Loaded on top of the carriage Julienne had two great steamer trunks, two traveling cases, and eight hatboxes. Tyla had one humble carpetbag.
Caesar, blinking and spluttering in the rain, shielded Julienne as she stepped smartly on the landing stage. Tyla pulled her shawl over her head and hurried behind her. When Julienne boarded, she looked helplessly around for a crewman, but none were there.
“I’ll start bringing the trunks up, Miss Julienne,” Caesar said. “But you’ll have to find your stateroom where I’m to bring them.”
“All right,” Julienne said uncertainly. She looked around. The big double doors that led to the cargo area and the firebox were just ahead of her, and over the din of the storm she could hear snatches of shouting and cursing. Julienne had no desire to go sashaying up in there. Ruefully she decided that she’d better go up to the pilothouse and see if she could find the captain or at least the first mate.
The stairs leading up to the hurricane deck, where the pilothouse was perched, was outside. Without a word Julienne threw her hood up, bowed her head, and hurried out to run up the stairs, followed by Tyla. When she reached the pilothouse, she couldn’t tell if anyone was in there, because the rain smeared the windows. She threw the door open and practically ran in.
Two men were there, and they whirled to stare at her, startled.
“I apologize for the intrusion, but there is not a single crewman to be seen down on the main deck,” she blurted out angrily, pushing back her hood and brushing rain away from her eyes. “I am a paying passenger and I require assistance. Where is your crew?”
Still the two men were speechless. Julienne stared at them irately, but suddenly her dark eyes widened and her mouth even opened slightly with astonishment. “Mr. Bronte? Dallas Bronte? You? What are you doing here?”
He quickly recovered. “Nothing useful, apparently. This is the pilot of the Missouri Dream , my friend Kip Herrin. Kip, I had the pleasure of making this lady’s acquaintance a few weeks ago. It’s my honor to introduce you to Miss Julienne Ashby.”
“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Ashby,” he said, bowing over her hand. He was a young man, with bright eager eyes and a wide smile.
Julienne was surprised but pleased at Dallas’s fine manners, but she now felt ridiculous, standing there dripping and bedraggled. “So kind,” she said automatically. “I apologize for
Julienne stepped out, and immediately her boots filled with mud and water and the hem of her wide hoop skirt was sopping at least eight inches up. Blinking, she looked at the steamer rocking on the uneasy river.
“But that’s so little,” she said. “Are you sure that’s the Missouri Dream ?”
“Yes, ma’am, saw it plain as plain painted on the side when we drove up,” Caesar answered. “Can’t see it through this soup, I know, but that’s her.”
The Missouri Dream was a sturdy steamer, carrying both passengers and freight. She was fairly new, and so wasn’t at all worn or shabby, for her owners kept her up very well. But she was small. At least, to Julienne, she looked tiny and scruffy, and that was probably because the last steamer she had seen had been two weeks ago, the queenly Columbia Lady . In fact, she had had a vague notion that she was sailing on that grand ship. Felicia Moak had told her that Lyle Dennison had indeed bought the Lady , and being reminded of it she had mentioned it to her father and told him that she wanted to go on that boat to New Orleans. But then she vaguely recalled that he had said something about the Columbia Lady being prohibitively expensive. Still, Julienne was irritated.
“Oh, very well. Come on, Tyla, let’s get in out of this downpour. I’ll see if I can get one of the crewmen to fetch my trunks.” Loaded on top of the carriage Julienne had two great steamer trunks, two traveling cases, and eight hatboxes. Tyla had one humble carpetbag.
Caesar, blinking and spluttering in the rain, shielded Julienne as she stepped smartly on the landing stage. Tyla pulled her shawl over her head and hurried behind her. When Julienne boarded, she looked helplessly around for a crewman, but none were there.
“I’ll start bringing the trunks up, Miss Julienne,” Caesar said. “But you’ll have to find your stateroom where I’m to bring them.”
“All right,” Julienne said uncertainly. She looked around. The big double doors that led to the cargo area and the firebox were just ahead of her, and over the din of the storm she could hear snatches of shouting and cursing. Julienne had no desire to go sashaying up in there. Ruefully she decided that she’d better go up to the pilothouse and see if she could find the captain or at least the first mate.
The stairs leading up to the hurricane deck, where the pilothouse was perched, was outside. Without a word Julienne threw her hood up, bowed her head, and hurried out to run up the stairs, followed by Tyla. When she reached the pilothouse, she couldn’t tell if anyone was in there, because the rain smeared the windows. She threw the door open and practically ran in.
Two men were there, and they whirled to stare at her, startled.
“I apologize for the intrusion, but there is not a single crewman to be seen down on the main deck,” she blurted out angrily, pushing back her hood and brushing rain away from her eyes. “I am a paying passenger and I require assistance. Where is your crew?”
Still the two men were speechless. Julienne stared at them irately, but suddenly her dark eyes widened and her mouth even opened slightly with astonishment. “Mr. Bronte? Dallas Bronte? You? What are you doing here?”
He quickly recovered. “Nothing useful, apparently. This is the pilot of the Missouri Dream , my friend Kip Herrin. Kip, I had the pleasure of making this lady’s acquaintance a few weeks ago. It’s my honor to introduce you to Miss Julienne Ashby.”
“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Ashby,” he said, bowing over her hand. He was a young man, with bright eager eyes and a wide smile.
Julienne was surprised but pleased at Dallas’s fine manners, but she now felt ridiculous, standing there dripping and bedraggled. “So kind,” she said automatically. “I apologize for
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