by White, Gwynn
“It’s a cash register,” the shopkeeper continued. “A friend of mine in Dayton designs them.”
“A cash register?” Grayson laid a hand atop the contraption.
“It totals the sale, stores the money, and alerts the shop owner when a clerk is completing a transaction.”
“Ingenious,” Grayson said. “Would you allow me to take a closer look?”
“Of course.” The shopkeeper stepped aside, inviting Grayson to join him behind the counter.
Briar watched the exchange with amusement. Grayson was like a kid with a new toy, and the shopkeeper, the proud papa showing off his mechanical wonder. Though with a few presses and a closer examination of the gadget, Grayson was soon asking questions the shopkeeper couldn’t answer. After watching Grayson repair Jimmy’s watch, Briar wasn’t surprised.
“Allow me to give you my friend’s card,” the shopkeeper said when Grayson mentioned that he wished for a screwdriver to take a closer look.
“Perhaps you’re interested in purchasing one yourself to take back to England? My friend would love to introduce his invention to a foreign market.”
“To England?” a woman inquired, setting a bottle of scented water on the counter. She gave Grayson an inquiring look. “Might you be a countryman, sir?” Her accent sounded much like Grayson’s, and she was certainly dressed as well as he was.
“I might be,” Grayson answered with an easy smile. He stepped back around the counter to face her. Briar thought he would offer to shake hands, but he gave her an elegant bow instead. “Jonathan Grayson, at your service.”
“A pleasure.” She held out her hand, and he took it. “Miranda Kendrick.”
“Of the London Kendricks?” Grayson asked, still holding her hand.
“My late husband’s family. I hail from Oxfordshire.”
“Lovely countryside.”
“You’ve been there?” She looked delighted. “My father is a professor at Oxford.” She continued on, naming people and places completely foreign to Briar, though Grayson seemed to have no trouble following her.
Briar had always considered herself worldly. Growing up on the canal, she had always been on the move and frequently exposed to new people. She’d been educated on the boat by her uncle and could read, write, and perform arithmetic as well as anyone, but she was feeling decidedly out of her element when Grayson and his new acquaintance discussed the wider world.
Briar stepped past them to settle her bill with the shopkeeper. Grayson was still deep in conversation when she finished.
“The boat will be leaving shortly, Mr. Grayson,” she cut in.
“Indulge me a moment, Captain?” he asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard word of home.”
The woman’s gaze fell on her, and her delicate brows rose. “You’re a woman.” She stared at Briar in open astonishment.
“What gave it away?” Briar demanded.
The woman didn’t answer, perhaps taken aback by Briar’s sharp tone.
“I’ve booked passage on her boat,” Grayson spoke up.
“One of those canal boats?” The woman looked appalled.
“I wished to see the countryside at a more leisurely pace. I assume you are traveling by rail?”
“Of course. It’s a bit more rustic than I anticipated, but nothing like you must be enduring.”
Briar opened her mouth, but Grayson stepped in front of her.
“Are you staying at a local hotel?” he asked the woman. “Perhaps you would allow me to walk you to it?”
“I would like to continue our conversation,” she agreed.
“Mr. Grayson—” Briar didn’t get to finish as he abruptly faced her.
“Might I have a word, while Mrs. Kendrick settles her bill?” He gripped her elbow and not giving her a chance to respond, turned her toward the door.
“We don’t have time for you to chat up some English tart,” Briar told him as he walked her to the door.
“She came by train,” he said, keeping his words soft. “Perhaps the same train our friend was on. She would certainly notice another Englishman and would know if and where he disembarked.”
“Solon,” Briar concluded, feeling a bit foolish. That was what Grayson was doing? She glanced back at the counter where Mrs. Kendrick was paying for her scented water.
“Yes,” Grayson answered, following her gaze. “Not that I’m opposed to chatting with a pretty woman.”
“She’s at least ten years your senior.” Though it wasn’t all that obvious with that dark hair and alabaster skin. No freckles marred the bridge of her nose—unlike Briar’s.
“That just makes her more interesting, but all that is a moot point since you are so anxious to leave. I will constrain my conversation to talk of her travel companions.”
Briar wanted to point out that she hadn’t agreed to this scheme, but the woman in question had paid for her purchase and walked over to them.
“Mr. Grayson?” She stopped beside him. “Do you have leave to escort me?”
“Captain?” Grayson gave Briar an inquiring look.
“You have a quarter of an hour, then we depart—with or without you.”
“I will be aboard,” Grayson promised. He turned to his companion, and offering her his arm, led her from the store.
Briar frowned after them a moment, then stepped outside. Grayson and his new friend had already rounded the corner, but the woman’s accented voice carried back to her.
“…rustic charm, but it leaves me longing for an educated conversation.”
“Yes,” Grayson agreed.
“Yet you chose to travel in such a barbaric way, with a woman who dresses like a man.”
A carriage rattled past, and Briar missed the next snippet of conversation, though Grayson’s laugh carried back to her.
She was half tempted to go confront the pair of them and even took a step in that direction before she made herself stop. It was pointless to confront the over-dressed twit. It was unlikely the haughty woman would even punch her back. Hell, Briar would probably lay her out with one blow.
Grumbling to herself, Briar pulled out her new silver pocket watch and, noting the time, headed for her boat.
11
Grayson arrived with exactly one minute to spare. The mules were hitched, and Zach awaited her signal to head out. Watching Mr. Grayson stroll coolly along the docks toward their vessel tempted Briar to give the command, but when Zach lifted a hand to wave at Grayson, she knew he would hesitate to start the team, thinking she hadn’t seen their passenger. Perhaps she should have assigned Eli to be driver. He certainly wouldn’t care if they left Grayson behind.
“Good of you to join us,” Briar said as Grayson jumped from the dock to the boat. They had already pulled in the gangplank.
“Heard you were chatting with some Englishwoman,” Jimmy said as Grayson stopped beside him. “Any success?”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Grayson answered.
“How does that pertain to you?” Briar asked.
Grayson just smiled, appearing in too good a mood to be bothered by the barb.
“Did you learn anything of importance?” she asked him.
“I did.”
Briar lifted her brows. “Go on,” she demanded when he didn’t continue.
“The man in question was on her train, but disembarked in Chillicothe.”
“We already knew that.”
“Yes, but what we didn’t know was that he traveled with two companions.”
“He has two soulless?” They had only encountered the one in Chillicothe.
“The second man was a well-dressed red-headed gentleman.”
Briar stared at him. “Andrew? He was in Chillicothe?” With Solon?
“Your cousin was in Chillicothe?” Jimmy asked. “Does he know you’ve taken the boat?”
“I’m sure he does by now,” she answered before turning back to Grayson. “Were you able to learn why Andrew was there?”
�
��That, I have no way of knowing,” Grayson answered. “My new friend had only a passing word with them before they departed her train.”
“I’m glad that your conversation with her wasn’t a waste of time.”
“Certainly not a waste of time,” Grayson agreed. “She also gave me the address of her friend’s residence where she’ll be staying in Columbus. She invited me to call when in town.”
Jimmy chuckled. “I figured he knew his way around the ladies.”
Briar caught the wink Grayson gave him. “I believe we have a boat to get underway,” she reminded them, then turned to Grayson. “Can the crew expect dinner, or has your romantic interlude left you out of sorts?”
“I’ll manage, Captain. Do I have your leave to begin? I shall need the afternoon if the cassoulet I’m planning is to be done in time.”
“You have my leave.”
Grayson nodded and headed for the hatch.
“What’s a castle-whatever?” Jimmy asked, walking beside him.
“Cassoulet. It’s a dish made from beans, and sausage, named for the vessel in which it is cooked. I’ll have to settle for a Dutch oven, but I’m sure I can make it work.”
The two men parted ways at the hatch, and Jimmy moved off to see about his duties.
Briar glanced over at Eli who stood a few feet away. “The sooner this errand is finished, the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Miss Briar.”
She nodded. “Then man the tiller and we’ll get the boat underway.”
“Aye, Captain.” With a grin, Eli walked off to do as she commanded.
“I bet that overeducated tart couldn’t command a canal boat,” Briar muttered, walking off to do just that.
* * *
They docked that night at Lockbourne, planning to make the twelve-mile trip up the Columbus Feeder Canal the next morning. The docks were always busy in Ohio’s capital, and it would be easier to navigate in the light of day. Besides, Lockbourne was home to one of the nicest taverns along the canal. Her crew would be disappointed if they passed it by during prime operating hours.
Guard Lock Tavern was a favorite among boatmen and a great place to catch up with friends along the canal, should they be docked at the same time.
Briar took her fiddle ashore with her, knowing she would just be returning to fetch it if not. Old Clem, the tavern’s proprietor always asked her to play when she stopped in.
“Good thing we got your fiddle,” Jimmy said as they followed the road from the docks. “Clem’s gonna be disappointed in our lack of appetite this evening.”
Grayson’s cassoulet had been well received at dinner this evening. Even Eli had offered a begrudging compliment when Grayson served him a fourth helping. Briar would never have guessed her crew would be so open to the different dishes that Grayson prepared, but he was a good enough cook that he could get away with it. What a shame she couldn’t find someone like him to hire permanently.
Jimmy proved to be right. Old Clem didn’t put up too much protest when they turned down a meal. Briar wasn’t so certain it was her fiddle, or Eli ordering a bottle of Clem’s finest. Though Clem had stroked his beard and given Grayson a speculative look. If most of his patrons hadn’t been in the whiskey already, she figured Grayson’s appearance in his fine clothes would have warranted a moment of silence.
With Jimmy’s hand on his shoulder, Grayson was soon part of one of several card games going on near the back of the room.
“Who’s the dandy?” Clem asked her.
“Just a passenger we picked up.” Briar laid her fiddle case on the bar and took out the instrument, preparing to play.
“I thought you ran a freighter.” Clem set a glass of whiskey beside her fiddle case.
“I do, but we were running light.”
“And he clearly has the ability to pay.”
“Yep.” She took a deep drink from her glass, relishing the burn.
“Hope he throws some of that money around here.”
She offered an indulgent smile and pulled her bow across the strings. She had yet to see any money from Mr. Grayson, but then, perhaps his abrupt departure from Portsmouth had prevented him from bringing any along. Not that it mattered now that he was working for his keep. His new lady friend probably wouldn’t find him nearly so attractive if she knew he was cook for a bunch of barbaric boatmen.
Briar launched into “Turkey in the Straw,” and the tavern patrons were soon clapping and stomping their feet. Some who’d had a little longer with their whiskey got up and danced.
The evening wore on, the whiskey flowed, and Briar lost herself to the merry tunes that told the story of this life she loved. This was her family, her high society, and she chided herself for letting another make her feel it was less.
She threw back another glass of Clem’s belly-warming payment for the entertainment, and allowing the captain of the Red Bird to hand her up onto a nearby table, she began a boot stomping rendition of “Cripple Creek,” accompanied by boisterous shouts and some off-tune singing.
Her own crew was scattered around the room, enjoying the camaraderie of old friends and no doubt swapping tales of the goings on along the canal.
Grayson still played cards and by his changing companions, she suspected he must have been doing well. Though that didn’t surprise her. He seemed to do everything well.
The tavern door opened, and Briar looked up to see who entered. Her bow screeched to a halt as Darby and his crew stopped just inside the crowded room.
The harsh sound of her last note and the sudden absence of the music brought a hush to the room.
“I see you’re dancin’ the tables again Briar Rose,” Darby said, intentionally dropping the Captain.
“You back to vandalize my boat a second time, Dale Darby? Were you that ashamed that my crew tossed yours into the canal?”
Darby’s face turned red. “You ain’t got no call for them accusations.”
“I’d call you out right now except you won’t fight me.”
“But I will,” a female voice said from behind him.
Briar smiled when Hester Darby stepped past her willowy father. She topped her father by several inches and outweighed him by an even greater margin.
She gave Briar a gap-toothed grin. Darby must have stopped by the house to pick her up just for this encounter. How thoughtful.
Briar stepped down off the table, almost missing the chain she’d tried to use as a step. Fortunately, a hand caught her elbow before she ended up on the floor.
“Are you certain this is wise?” an accented voice asked.
To Briar’s annoyance, Grayson held her elbow. When he’d left his card game, she hadn’t seen.
She jerked her elbow from his grip, stumbling a little before she could turn and shove her fiddle and bow into his hands.
“Put that away for me,” she told him.
“You’ve had quite a lot to drink,” he whispered. “I don’t think you realize she’s twice your size.”
“And slow as a pregnant cow,” she shot back. “I whipped her last time we fought.”
A hint of amusement curled his lips. “Were you this inebriated?”
She pushed past him. “Outside,” she told Hester. “I won’t have you busting up Clem’s furniture when your fat ass smashes into it.”
Like her father, Hester’s face instantly turned red. Briar thought she’d charge her right there, but she allowed her father to herd her outside.
Briar followed, along with every person in the tavern. Nothing more exciting than a good fistfight—especially between two women.
The sun hadn’t yet set, but it had clouded up considerably. The gusting wind promised a coming storm.
“I’m gonna pound you to dust,” Hester told her. Though her father had sneered at Briar’s attire, Hester had adopted the same style of dress in her trousers and waistcoat, though Briar fancied she could make three sets for herself from the fabric involved.
“That’s what you said last ti
me,” Briar reminded her.
They stopped in the dirt yard before the tavern. The crowd gathered on the front porch and the yard, forming a rough circle around them.
“Take ’er down, Captain Rose!” a man shouted from the crowd. It wasn’t one of her crew.
“You spread your legs for him, too?” Hester sneered. “Everyone says that’s how you got to be captain.”
“I inherited my boat,” Briar said through clenched teeth.
“Heard your cousin owns the boat. I also heard he’s real pissed that you took it.”
Briar stepped closer. “Where’d you hear that?”
“He came to the docks in Portsmouth looking for you Monday afternoon. Heard he’s offered a reward for news of your whereabouts.”
So Andrew had gone back to Portsmouth after he met Solon in Waverly? Had Solon gone with him? Maybe Andrew had agreed to take him to Martel. Apparently, they hadn’t found him if the pair was later seen in Chillicothe.
“Also heard about your fancy man,” Hester continued. “He paying to ride your boat, or something else?”
Briar slammed her fist into the woman’s big mouth.
The blow caused her to stumble back a step, and a cheer rose around them.
Hester turned her head and spit the blood from her mouth. “Forgot how strong you were, bitch.”
She charged toward Briar, a meaty fist pulled back for a punch that never connected. Briar ducked the blow.
Briar spun to face her, stumbling a little. Grayson might have a point about the inebriation, but Briar figured she’d have to be unconscious before Hester could get the better of her. After facing the soulless, Briar found the current contest like fighting in slow motion.
Her mind took her back to that fight, and she remembered how well Grayson had handled himself. She never had asked him about where he learned to—
Hester closed with her more quickly than she expected, and Briar wasn’t able to move fast enough, taking a glancing blow across the cheek. Damn, she hit hard.
“Pay attention,” Briar muttered to herself. She regained her balance, but the blow to the head must have knocked loose her brain that was already floating in whiskey fumes.