“There must be something not right in my head, because I can’t believe that I’m even going to utter these words. Higson’s a fugitive, running from the law, and I should know better even if you don’t.” She took a breath. “My uncle has a small fishing boat.”
“Where?”
“At his cabin south of Moon Lake. Not much there: just a few supplies, a bed, a stove. But couldn’t you just board in Greenville?”
“I don’t want to wait that long. Besides, it’s too obvious. He’ll be watching for police and anything else that seems suspicious. And he knows what I look like, remember? He sees me, and he’ll know something’s wrong.” He shifted into gear and stepped on the gas.
Travis tried to stay parallel to the river, along back roads, shortcuts, and makeshift bridges. The river’s meandering path wandered two or three miles for every one they drove. Soon they reached a rutted road—more a path than a road—that was wide at its entrance but tapered gradually to the car’s width farther ahead. Tree branches and undergrowth reached inside the windows at the narrowest part when Travis finally stopped the car.
“It’s up the trail another quarter mile,” Hannah said, setting out confidently. Travis followed. “My uncle used to come here quite a bit, but not so much anymore.”
“Who owns the land?”
“I don’t know. My uncle kind of found it one day and built the cabin. He said he never saw anyone come out this way, so he figured nobody would care if he did.”
“What about the road?”
“He cleared the way originally, and then all his trips to the cabin kept it that way.” She stepped gingerly over fallen trees and carefully bent branches back as she made her way forward. “There it is.” Hannah pointed along the path toward a barely visible structure in the distance.
Travis strained to see the cabin through the underbrush, but only when they came within fifteen yards of it did the cabin come into full view.
Travis stood behind Hannah while she fiddled with the doorknob and then pushed it open. “Whew, what’s that smell?” Travis said, stepping through the doorway.
“Uncle Roger must have left some fish somewhere.”
“Or maybe something crawled in and died. Whatever it is, let’s don’t stay too long.”
Hannah quickly opened and closed several drawers.
“What are you looking for?” Travis asked.
“A key. The gas for the boat is outside, locked up in a shed. We need a key to get in.”
Travis started doing the same, opening, searching, and closing several drawers. “Are these the right keys?” He held up several that were all tied together on a string.
Hannah squinted across the small, poorly lighted room. “Good, you found them.”
Travis tossed her the keys then they headed outside to the shed behind the cabin.
Inside the shed, Hannah immediately spotted the gas can and a toolbox. “Take this.” She passed the can to Travis. “And this.” She handed him the toolbox. “All right, let’s go get the boat.” She closed the shed door but left it unlocked.
Hannah pulled back a tarp that covered the small boat, which was lying twenty feet from the water’s edge. “What do you think?”
“It looks a little small for two people. But it’ll do.”
“Who’s driving?” Hannah asked.
“You drive, and I get on the River Belle. Then you come back here, get the car, and contact the police. Tell them where we think Higson is and to pick him up in Greenville.”
“And if you’re wrong, and he’s not on the boat?”
“We’ll add that to the list of things we’re in trouble for.”
Hannah and Travis dragged the boat to the water. Hannah inspected the engine, filled the tank with gas, and then pulled a wrench from the toolbox.
“You know what you’re doing?”
“My uncle showed me how to get the boat ready a few times.” She tightened several bolts. “He does the same thing every time he puts the boat in.” She closed the toolbox and handed it and the gas can back to Travis. “Could you put these back in the shed, please, and then lock up and put the keys back in the drawer?”
“Sure.”
After locking up the shed, Travis went back inside the cabin and started opening drawers, trying to remember where the keys had been. At a small makeshift desk, he pulled so hard on the top drawer it flew out and landed on the floor with a thud. He stared down, startled by its contents. Travis picked up the revolver and peeled back the oily handkerchief it was wrapped in. He cracked the cylinder; it was fully loaded. He tucked it in his belt, making sure to cover it with this shirt. He replaced the drawer, threw the keys in another, and left the cabin.
Hannah was waiting in the boat. “Push us off.”
Travis pushed the boat away from the bank and quickly jumped in.
“Get your foot wet?” Hannah asked.
“Just a little.” Travis picked up the oar that lay in the boat and dug it into the river bottom to propel the tiny boat into deeper water.
“Once we get out a little farther, I’ll drop the motor in. It’s still too shallow.”
Travis rowed hard until Hannah finally eased the propeller into the water. The small motor sputtered and coughed, but when it finally started, it ran effortlessly.
“We probably should have started it closer to shore,” Travis said. “I would have hated to row all the way back.”
“I wasn’t worried. Not about the motor, anyway. Where are we heading?”
“We’ve got to figure out some place where we can wait for the River Belle.”
“How long do you think it will take to get here?” Hannah trailed the fingers of one hand along the water’s surface.
“I don’t know. By the time you figure all the bends and turns, it may be dusk before she reaches this part of the river. Just depends how fast she can travel.”
Travis looked toward the sun, still visible on the horizon. It was descending quickly. Soon it would be dark on the water, and if the moon was waning or covered by clouds, seeing anything or navigating would be difficult.
“I know a place where we can wait,” Hannah said. “I can almost see it from here. It’s a small cove with some cover.”
Hannah turned up the throttle and the boat bounced gently through the water from one side of the Mississippi to the other. They arrived at the cove a few minutes later. It was set back slightly from the main body of water and allowed good visibility both up and down the river. The foliaged branches of several large trees growing near the banks provided a canopy.
Hannah shut off the engine, and Travis rowed the boat against the bank. Once in place, they made themselves comfortable and watched for the River Belle.
While they waited, the clouds that had been forming all day up and down the Mississippi finally began to release their contents in a slow, warm drizzle. Although the trees provided protection, some water trickled through their leafy roof.
“This isn’t what I had hoped for,” Hannah said, trying to make herself comfortable.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”
CHAPTER 42
The storm is rising.
—Lonnie Johnson
TRAVIS DIDN’T KNOW HOW LONG THEY’D DOZED, BUT he awoke with a start when vigorous waves beat the small motorboat against the roots of a giant tree that was growing half in the water and half on the bank.
For a split second, he didn’t remember where he was. He squinted in the darkness to get his bearings, then looked at Hannah. She was on her side, her head resting on her arm, her breathing heavy.
He looked up and out toward the middle of the river. Chugging along at her leisurely pace was the River Belle. She was fully lighted and glittering in the drizzle.
“Hannah,” Travis said. “Wake up.” He nudged Hannah with his foot.
She lifted her head wearily and almost fell backward when Travis pushed off from the bank. “Whoa,” Hannah said, rubbing her eyes and reposi
tioning herself in the boat. “What are you doing?”
“River Belle.” Travis pointed behind her. “She’s here.”
Hannah peered through the rain toward the brightly ornamented boat. “Hard to miss that.”
“Kind of looks like a Christmas tree floating sideways on the water, doesn’t she?”
Hannah started the engine.
“Let me drive,” Travis said.
They carefully switched places, Travis moving to the stern to control the boat’s direction and speed, and Hannah to the bow. The wind and rainfall had picked up, and water started dripping from the tip of Travis’s nose. He revved the engine, and the boat slipped into the rushing waters of the Mississippi. The noise of the rain, along with the roar of the engine and the constant smacking of the little boat every time she rose and fell against the river’s now rough surface, made talking difficult.
“Are you worried about someone spotting us?” Hannah shouted.
“No. The rain should keep everyone inside. And keeping to the backside of the boat will make it easier to move alongside without anyone seeing us.” Travis wiped the rain from his face, then maneuvered the boat behind River Belle to ride her wake. Travis cupped his hand around his mouth. “When we get close enough, I’ll try and get on.”
“I still think you’re crazy.”
The few droplets that had fallen gently an hour ago had now turned into a torrent. Lightning streaked through the sky, and the crackle of thunder silenced any further talk on the small boat. Travis looked at their skiff. She had seemed so adequate a short time ago, but now she existed at the whim of the elements. He knew the river would decide their fate. He held the engine at full throttle and slowly edged closer until he could read the name River Belle painted on the back of the boat. The passenger ship was traveling much faster than Travis thought she would be. The motorboat moved dangerously close to the River Belle, but Travis pushed on. He eyed the huge paddle wheels that propelled the larger vessel and could demolish their diminutive craft in seconds. He had left any good sense on shore.
Drawing nearer, Travis yelled out to Hannah, “Let’s trade places!” He motioned with his hand for her to move back to where he was sitting. “Then I want you to pull up alongside so I can get up the ladder. Okay?”
She looked at him blankly.
“Come on back.”
The boats weren’t moving that quickly now, but the torrential downpour, the noise from the engine, the darkness, and the sheer size of the River Belle made maneuvering more difficult than it should have been.
Hannah hadn’t moved.
“What’s wrong?” Travis shouted above the roar.
“I want to go with you. On the boat.”
Travis looked at her incredulously, and shook his head.
She nodded in rebuttal, and pointed toward the deck, urging him to move next to the larger vessel. He knew her expression was that of someone who wasn’t backing down. He could sit and argue with her, turn their tiny craft around and head back, or he could let her come along. Travis pulled the throttle arm to the left and their boat moved right, hopping over the steamer’s wake. Their speed was fractionally faster than the larger boat’s, allowing them to slowly creep from the stern toward the bow.
“Watch it,” Hannah called when Travis veered too close, bumping the River Belle. They could feel the tug of her hull trying to pull them under. Hannah was clinging to the edge of their boat to keep from being tossed toward Travis or into the river.
Travis looked at her and sensed her fear. He leaned toward the larger riverboat and pushed off from her enormous side, then steered their boat away and slowed the throttle to regain control.
“Sorry,” Travis said, resuming full throttle. He pulled alongside the River Belle once more, steadying their boat near a ladder that extended almost all the way down the bow. He made sure not to get as close this time.
“Hannah! When I get near the ladder, you’re going to have to grab the lower rung and pull yourself up.”
She nodded, still gripping the sides of the boat, and moved to the left side of their small craft.
Travis again sidled up to the riverboat, but this time he carefully steadied his boat within a foot of the ladder. Hannah reached out and grabbed the second rung with her left hand. Then she quickly reached out for another rung with her right. The rungs were slippery from the rain, but she managed a firm grip. She pulled hard to lift herself up, and slowly their boat was inching toward the heaving River Belle, her massive frame starting to catch the edge of their tiny craft and push her down. A splinter sheared off, and it crackled above the storm. Travis steered right to avoid being pushed under, but he drifted too far, and suddenly Hannah was out of the boat.
“Go!” he yelled, wiping rain from his face.
Hanging onto the rungs, her legs dangling, she started to pull herself up using just her hands. Hannah managed merely two rungs before she stalled. Her legs and knees were still searching for a foothold but couldn’t find one.
Travis could see she was struggling, the strength in her arms already waning. He once again turned toward the larger vessel until he was right below Hannah. He reached up and grabbed the bottom of her left foot. Using his palm as a step to push off from—while Travis was trying to control the smaller boat—Hannah moved skyward.
“Keep going!” Travis shouted encouragingly.
Once she landed a foot on the lower rung, Hannah climbed the ladder quickly. She turned and waved him up.
Travis steered back toward the larger boat and positioned himself next to the ladder. He got into a crouch position and reached unsteadily for the first rung while keeping his other hand on the throttle. His fingertips wrapped around the slippery rung, but he couldn’t quite get his thumb around and his hand slipped away. He fell back into his seat, rocking the small craft.
Hannah yelled something, but he couldn’t hear it.
He reached a second time for the rung, and this time he securely found his mark. He gripped the rung tightly, but the shift in his weight caused the left side of his boat to dip. The larger vessel’s hull caught the edge.
“Get out!” Hannah screamed.
Travis jumped and held on with one hand while the other flailed helplessly. For a second, he panicked, unable to find another rung with his free hand. But just as his grip started to slip, he grabbed another. He turned back toward their boat just in time to see her crushed under the riverboat. He scampered up the ladder.
“Where’ve you been?” Hannah teased when Travis slung his leg over the top.
Their noses touching, she wrapped both arms around him and smiled.
Travis could see her exhaustion and fear. They quickly ran to the River Belle’s stern and scanned the water’s surface. Pieces of their boat were strewn across the Mississippi behind them.
“You owe my uncle a new boat.”
“I thought this was your idea.” He didn’t bother to check her expression. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can find Higson.”
Travis had heard that the River Belle was no ordinary riverboat. Built only two years earlier, she was the largest passenger ship traveling the Mississippi River from the headwaters in Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico. The paddle wheeler, because of her size, housed main and auxiliary dining rooms and several large game rooms, formal parlors for quiet conversation, a ballroom, and sleeping quarters for three hundred passengers and crew. There were also day-travel accommodations for another fifty passengers.
Travis and Hannah slipped through a door near the stern and stood silently for a moment, leaning against a wall and letting the rainwater drip off of them. It pooled beneath their feet, forming a large puddle. They looked at each other, breathing a sigh of relief that they were finally on board. But neither smiled.
“The first thing we have to do,” Travis said, “is find some dry clothes.”
Hannah nodded, and they descended the nearest set of stairs to the lower deck.
“It’s still dinnertime,” Travis said, st
epping onto another landing. “I’ll bet most everyone is in one of the dining areas or playing cards in one of the game rooms. And that means the crew is busy serving and cleaning up.”
Travis and Hannah crept along a series of hallways and stairwells that finally led to a sign directing them to the sleeping cabins of the ship’s employees. Without hesitation, Travis knocked on the first door they came to. He waited for an answer but heard nothing. Slowly, he turned the doorknob, but it was locked. He moved to the next door in the hallway and repeated the process. Again, the door was locked. And yet again. On the fourth try, Travis turned the knob and the door opened. He and Hannah slipped into the room.
“Women’s clothes,” Travis said, opening a closet door and removing a dress. “Try this on.” He tossed the dress onto the bed. “It looks like an employee’s uniform. You’ll fit right in.”
“What if it’s not my size?” She held the dress to herself. “I want to look my best. Although I guess it doesn’t matter, because my daddy wouldn’t allow me to work on a passenger ship anyway.”
“Snob.” Travis laughed. “It looks about the right size, and we can’t be picky about the wardrobe. Try it on, I’ll bet it’s warmer than what you’re wearing. I’m going across the hall to find something for me.”
He opened the door to leave, and Hannah picked up a flowery hat that had been sitting on a chair and turned teasingly to Travis. “I think this’ll fit you.”
“And please get some shoes,” he reminded her, closing the door.
Travis entered the room across the hall while Hannah was changing. From the things scattered about, it was evident the room housed men. He quickly found a steward’s uniform that fit well enough. Before returning to Hannah’s room, he inspected the revolver he’d been carrying since they left her uncle’s cabin. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t lost it. Carefully removing the bullets, he made sure they were dry then he reloaded the gun and slipped it back into his belt. He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out whether the rain had rendered it useless.
Travis stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He rapped lightly on Hannah’s door.
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