Family of the Heart (21 page)

He thought she was too frightened to care for Nora.
Sarah straightened, squared her shoulders. “Nora will be fine, Mr. Bainbridge. I will bring her to you after the governor’s speech.” She glanced at the short man waiting for him and dipped her head. “Commissioner Thomas.” She lowered Nora to the deck, took hold of her small hand and, gripping the rail on her left and fastening her gaze firmly on the highly varnished deck, walked down the narrow passageway.

“But I want to go see Mama and Grandpapa, Nanny Alice.”

Sarah paused at the sound of the young child’s voice and glanced at the open door of a room on her right.

“If you are searching for the children’s quarters, you have found them.”

The voice was soft, kind.

Sarah led Nora into the room. The cabin was small, with white painted walls, dark-blue coverlets on narrow berths attached to the walls and matching curtains at the windows that marched in a row above the beds. A small table with two chairs and two high children’s chairs constituted the furnishings. A plump, buxom young woman knelt beside an open door at the far end of the room straightening a little girl’s dress.

“So you have been banished to the nether regions with your charge until the festivities are over, also.” The woman motioned toward the wall beside her. “I have claimed these berths. Those on the side wall will be yours. And this—” she indicated the room behind her “—is a very small, but adequate, dressing room.” A smile warmed her round face. “There will be only the two of us sharing these quarters. I am Alice Gardner, and this—” she rose and took the child by the hand “—is my charge, Miss Portia Holbrook. The governor’s granddaughter.”

Sarah smiled. “I am Sarah Randolph, and this is my charge, Miss Nora Bainbridge. Her father is the engineer in charge of the canal repairs.” She glanced down at Nora, who had leaned back against her legs, then smiled at the other little girl. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Portia.”

Nora stirred, took her thumb from her mouth. “Me gots kitties an’ a puppy.”

“You have a
puppy?
” Portia tugged her hand from her nanny’s grasp and ran across the room to Nora. “What is his name?”

“He be Rogue. An’ the kitties be Happy an’ Wiggles an’ Fluffy an’ Bun’le. An’ we gots horsies, too.”

“We have horses. And I have a pony.” Portia leaped into the conversation, clearly not to be outdone in the pet department. “His name is Noodles. And he is gray with white spots…”

“It looks as if our charges are going to enjoy each other’s company.”

Sarah looked at Alice. She was peering out a window, looking up and down the narrow walkway outside. “Yes, it does.” She stepped to the two berths on the side wall. Their trunks rested on the floor beneath them. She leaned down and patted the mattress of the small one with the rail around it. It was softer than it appeared to be. “How old is Portia?”

“Almost four years.”

“Miss Gardner?” The voice was low and soft, somewhat urgent.

Alice’s face lit. She spun away from the window and hurried toward the open door. “Did you wish to speak with me, Mr. Adams?”

A young, brown-haired man, of medium height, stepped into the room. “If you have a moment, I am free until after the governor’s speech and I thought perhaps—” He stopped. His face flushed. “I see you are busy.” He backed toward the door.

Sarah looked at Alice, noted the disappointment wiping the smile from her face. “Pardon me, Miss Gardner. I do not mean to intrude on your conversation, but, if you feel comfortable with the suggestion, I would be happy to care for Portia while you speak with your gentleman friend.”

“Oh, I could not impose—”

“It is no imposition. I am sure Nora will be happy for the company.”

“Well…” Alice glanced at Mr. Adams. “Let me fetch my hat.” She hurried to a trunk, grabbed the hat resting on top and headed back for the door. “Thank you, Miss Randolph. I shan’t be long.”

There was a burst of cheering and applause. The boat moved. Sarah caught her breath, glanced at the children happily engrossed in picture books and stepped to a window. People on shore were milling about, calling and shouting to each other and those onboard. White handkerchiefs and small flags fluttered goodbye from the hands of old and young alike. Crew members shouted to one another. Young boys ran on the towpath, cheering and keeping pace as the packet began its slow-moving progress up the canal.

The excitement of the moment overwhelmed her apprehension. She bent down and snatched up the small sunbonnet resting on Nora’s berth. The little girl should not miss this occasion. And she had told Clayton she would bring Nora to him when the governor’s speech was finished. Sarah frowned and glanced toward the door. She could not leave Portia. Where was Miss Gardner?

The plump, young woman rushed through the door as if her thoughts had conjured her.

“Come, Portia. You are to join your mother and grandfather.” Alice Gardner lifted a bonnet out of Portia’s trunk, tied it on the child’s head and hurried toward the door. “Thank you, Miss Randolph.” The words floated over her shoulder as she disappeared in the flow of people walking by on the deck outside the cabin.

“You are most welcome.” Sarah laughed and turned to Nora.

“Me go see kitties.” Nora’s lower lip trembled. She held her arms up.

Sarah scooped her up and hugged her close. Poor little tyke, she was no doubt feeling overwhelmed by all the noise and excitement, the strange place and new experiences. “No kitties today, sweetie.” She infused her voice with excitement. “But I will take you out to your papa and perhaps he will let you watch the horses pull the boat. Would you like that?”

“Horsies?”

“Yes.” Sarah kissed Nora’s soft, silky cheek. “But first you need to visit the dressing room.”

The slight breeze played with the strands of hair that had escaped the red cord. Sarah frowned and lifted her hands to tuck the locks back under their restraint, saw Clayton glance her way and lowered them again. Perhaps he would not notice she had forgotten her bonnet again if she did not call attention to the fact.

“Who him?” Nora pointed a pudgy little finger toward the man walking alongside the horses on the towpath.

“That is the man who makes the horses pull the boat.” Clayton smiled at his daughter. “They call him a ‘hoggee’—it is his special name.”

Nora nodded, twisted round in her father’s arms, looking at everything. “Who him?” She pointed.

“That is the man who pushes the boat away from the banks of the canal.”

“What he special name?”

“He is called a ‘tripper,’ and, yes, he has a big stick. It is called a pole.”

Clayton grinned and looked her way. “Is she always this inquisitive?”

Sarah met his gaze. Her stomach fluttered. “Yes, she is.” She looked away, looked back.
His eyes!
Her heart stuttered, and her tongue followed its lead. “I…I must answer at least fifty questions a day.”

“You are very patient.”

“Mr. Bainbridge?”

Sarah started. The young man who had come to the cabin asking to speak to Alice Gardner stepped up beside them. “The governor requests you join him at his table, sir.” He glanced at Nora. “He also suggests it would be too adult an occasion for your child.”

“How opportune.” Sarah stepped forward, avoided Clayton’s gaze. It was too unsettling. “It is time for Nora to eat. And then she must have a nap. All of the excitement has tired her.” She reached for Nora. “Tell your papa goodbye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Papa.”

Clayton leaned down, received Nora’s kiss and gave her one in return. He lifted his head, looked at her. “Goodbye, Miss Randolph.”

Her voice deserted her. Sarah dipped her head, turned and walked away. But when she reached the corner, she could not resist a backward glance—and immediately wished she had. Clayton was at the governor’s table, smiling as he bowed over the offered hand of a very attractive young woman. She eyed the woman’s gown of shimmering green silk trimmed with rows of lace-edged flounces, looked down at the serviceable material, the plain full skirt of her own gown and wished fervently she had brought along one of her own elegant, fashionable gowns.

Sarah pulled the coverlet up over Nora’s arms, moved over to the other wall and did the same for Portia. Alice Gardner had disappeared the moment she put her charge to bed. Not that she minded. The children were both fast asleep, exhausted by the day’s excitements. And it was little wonder. There had been so much enthusiasm and fervor when the boat stopped and the governor spoke briefly to the people who lived in the small settlements along the canal.

She had lost count of how many stops they had made. Or of how many cannons had boomed in respectful salute or wild celebration. But she remembered how handsome and distinguished Clayton had looked, standing with the commissioners during the speeches. And how the governor’s daughter had hovered nearby. The pretty, stylish,
widowed,
newly out of mourning, governor’s daughter. Alice said Portia’s father had died a year ago last month.

Sarah frowned, walked to a window and looked out. The narrow walkway was empty of people. The constant hum of voices had ceased. It must be late. She should go to bed, but the berth was uninviting. She was too restless to sleep. Where was Clayton now? Was he abed? Or was he standing out there on the moonlit deck with the governor’s daughter?

Soft whispers caught her attention. Sarah glanced toward the door. Alice Gardner walked into the room, the glow in her eyes and the flush on her face visible even in the dimmed lantern light. It made her own loneliness unbearable. “I feel the need of some air, Miss Gardner. Would you please watch over Nora while I step outside for a few minutes?”

“Of course. It is a lovely night, Miss Randolph.”

It was. A warm, gentle breeze caressed her face, teased the tresses of hair at her nape and temples as Sarah walked along the narrow passage to the now-deserted open deck at the front of the boat. Moonlight streamed down from the ebony sky to light her way. The night was soft and still. So quiet she could hear the clop of the horses’ hoofs against the dirt of the towpath, the rustle of the streamers overhead. Footsteps.

Sarah whirled about. Clayton Bainbridge crossed the deck to stand beside her. “Good evening, Miss Randolph. You are up late.” Concern shadowed his face. “Are you unable to sleep? Is it your fear of the water?”

Sarah shook her head, brushed a strand of hair off her face. “No. The canal boat is very different from a ship. And I find the water does not frighten me if I stay on the side of the boat by the canal wall. And, of course, the boat being towed by horses is very reassuring.” She was babbling! Why did the man make her so
nervous?
She took a step back, put some space between them. “I simply came out for some fresh air before I retire.” She took a chance and glanced up at him. “And what of you? Why are—”

“Hey! Hey! Lock!”

Sarah started at the crewman’s shout and turned back toward the front of the boat. Light illuminated the darkened canal ditch, glimmered on the water.

A bugle blew.

“This is why I came out. Watch.” Clayton spoke softly, his deep voice little more than a whisper.

A crewman ran by them to the front of the boat—waved a red lantern.

She looked up at Clayton. He had closed the distance between them again. She edged forward. “What is he doing?”

“Telling the lock keeper we are here.”

The boat slowed, stopped. Men came into view, running on top of the stone wall. A minute later there was a rushing, swishing sound.

“Hear that? They have opened the first set of gates.”

He had stepped up beside her again! Sarah wiped the palms of her hands against her long skirt and looked at the small space between her and the rail. She was running out of room to move away from him.

“As soon as the water level is even, they will unhitch the towrope, and we will enter the canal chamber. The captain will steer us through while our crew helps the lock crew.”

The boat moved forward, floated between thick walls of stone so close crew members jumped to them and joined the other men already on the walls.

Sarah stared at the massive walls. Had Clayton built or repaired them? She looked up to ask, but the question died on her lips. Clayton was looking down at her, his blue eyes dark and smoky with tiny flames burning in their depths. Everything in her went as still as the night. He moved closer. Her knees quivered.

“Locking through!”

The shout ripped through the air. Sarah jerked, came back to sanity. Water rushed and surged. Crew members leaped back onboard and went about their tasks. She groped behind her for the railing before she fell in an embarrassing heap at Clayton’s feet, and watched them hitch the towrope to a fresh team of horses, grab their poles and take up their positions. She fixed a polite smile on her face and looked up him. “That was very interesting. Thank you for sharing your expertise with me, Mr. Bainbridge. But it is late, and I need to check on Nora. Good evening.”

He did not move. He just stood there, looking at her. Heat climbed into her cheeks. He was probably wondering why she was acting so strange. She straightened her spine, let go of the railing, inched by him and walked down the passageway to her room.