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Humor curved his mustache-framed lips. “Whatever you say.”
“Thank you.”
Etta put the clothing in a canvas sack and handed it to him. “You two take care of yourselves in Charleston. Raven, make sure you bring him back in one piece so I can dance with him at your wedding.”
Raven knew it was useless to protest. “I’ll do my best.” She turned her attention to Steele. “Are you ready?”
He nodded.
Raven gave Etta a parting hug and a kiss on the cheek. That done, she and Steele stepped out into the sunshine.
They made the short walk back to the wagon and once aboard, she picked up the reins and asked, “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat something, yes.”
“Fish okay? There’s a place nearby that has great fried fish sandwiches.”
“Sure.”
She studied his face. “My apologies if I hurt your feelings back there.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I’d like for us to get along.”
“So do I.” She’d replied without thought and realized she mostly meant it.
“Then let’s put the incident behind us and try and enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Let’s do that.”
Pinkerton detective Ruth Welch was not enjoying her day. Lying across her bed, panting with distress, she prayed that whatever was ailing her had run its course. An hour or so after breakfast her stomach began roiling so violently that she’d eschewed the room’s chamber pot and bolted to the boardinghouse’s privy out back. Relief had been only temporary. So far, she’d made three more trips and doubted her body had anything left to give. A tap on her closed door drew her attention and she called weakly, “Yes?”
“It’s Mrs. Abbott. May I come in?”
“Yes.”
The door opened a fraction and the landlady stuck her head inside. “Just wanted to check on you. Are you all right?”
“No,” Welch replied as angrily as her infirmity allowed. “My stomach is in distress from whatever you fed me for breakfast.”
“I didn’t feed you breakfast.”
“Sure you did. You sent me a plate by the old Colored woman who works for you.”
“That old woman didn’t work for me. She arrived by wagon and said you made the arrangement to have the breakfast delivered.”
Ruth sat up as best she could. “What?”
The landlady repeated herself.
“I never made any such arrangement.”
“Well, she certainly doesn’t work for me.”
Ruth fell back on the bed. Who was the woman? Where had she come from? As she tried to make sense of it, a possible answer surfaced.Moreau!She’d bet a bottle of her favorite brandy that the woman had been sent by the Moreaux, or was maybe a member of the diabolical family itself, but before she could give the conundrum more attention, her stomach roiled. She struggled to her feet, forcefully pushed past the landlady, and made another dash to the privy.
Raven and Brax purchased their sandwiches and she drove to a forested bluff above the Mississippi. A short walk through the trees and untamed surroundings took them to a clearing that offered a place to sit. Below them was the port of New Orleans filled with ships and riverboats of all sizes and the workers loading and unloading the cargos.
“We can sit here,” she told him.
