Devon Monk - Tin Swift

“No, thank you, Mr. Theobald,” she murmured. “Please, be seated.”

From how quickly the man obeyed, it was clear who among the passengers made the decisions.

And from the lowered lashes and slight smile she gave him, it was just as clear that he was more than her traveling companion. Much more.

Interesting, but ultimately nothing that concerned him. He was just about to get up and see if Rose and Mae were settled, when Mae walked back into the room. The passengers, all of them, including the blonde flipping flapjacks, looked over at Mae.

Cedar watched the strangers. Joonie noticed his gaze right away and went back to minding her pans. Mr. Theobald was slowly slipping the lenses of his spectacles down over one eye, holding a book open in the palm of his hand, but not reading it. The last person Cedar had seen wear a contraption like that was Bryn Madder, when he was trying to make sense of Cedar and his curse.

But it was Miss Dupuis who stared straight at him, watching to see if he had any reaction to Mae walking into the room.

Cedar shifted in his chair to see Mae, who was walking their way.

His heart clutched in his chest, and heat tightened his skin. Every time he saw that woman, the need for her struck him near dumb. More than that. The wolf in him twisted and pressed. Wanting out. Wanting to protect. Wanting her.

Cedar swallowed hard, pressing the beast down deeper and holding tight to the thoughts of a man.

Mr. Theobald took in a sharp, quick breath, and his fingers stopped snicking lenses into place over his spectacles.

Cedar knew he was looking at him. He could smell his fear.

It was all he could do not to turn and stare at the man until he backed down.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Mae said once she was at their table. “We have company?” From the tone of her voice, she really wasn’t sure if she had missed seeing them there before, or perhaps she was unsure if they were really in the room.

“Ship’s crew came in,” Cedar said quietly. “Supplies. The captain is off talking to Jack.”

“Oh,” Mae said. “I see.” She paused and smoothed her hands over her skirt, then rested them on her hips. “I believe you and I need to speak to Mr. Jack also, Captain.” Then she noticed the flask in Hink’s hand, and her eyebrows went up.

“If you are prepared to speak on our behalf,” she added.

The captain took in a deep breath and held it as he made a big lot of noise over standing up and away from that table.

“Why, of course, I’m prepared to speak. Shall we?” He offered her his arm, which Mae took.

Cedar clenched his hands into fists and worked on not imagining clocking the captain for that smile he was giving to Mae.

“Keep the pot hot, Mr. Seldom,” Captain Hink called. “I have a feeling I’m about to work up an appetite.”

They’d get medicines for Rose, he told himself. That’s all he was talking about.

Captain Hink had proved he could be trusted so far.

The captain wasn’t drunk, and yet he was acting like it. Who was he trying to fool? Beaumont? His passengers?

He wasn’t going to send Mae off on her own with him. Cedar strode over to where Wil stood in the shadows just inside the doorway to the sleeping quarters. He looked down into his brother’s copper eyes. “Watch Mae for me,” he whispered.

Wil padded out into the room, then through it with grace and speed.

“My word!” Mr. Theobald said.

Joonie reached for something that was not a spatula.

Mr. Seldom caught her hand before she could pull whatever sort of gun she had hidden in her skirts.

“Flapjacks are burning,” was all he said.

But by the time she looked back out in the room, Wil was gone.

Cedar strode over to the table where Mr. Theobald stood, the lens over his eye a hard red. He still smelled like fear, but he was steady on his feet, his hand tucked in one pocket, where no doubt he had some kind of weapon he felt confident using. His expression held more than a little bit of curiosity.

For a brief moment, that look reminded him of the Madder brothers.

Miss Dupuis sat straight-backed and proper, as if she expected tea service to arrive at any moment.

“Though we haven’t been made full acquaintance,” Cedar said to Mr. Theobald, “I’d be obliged if you kept your hands off your weapons around that wolf of mine. I wouldn’t want him to think you meant to harm him.”

He said it quietly. But it was a threat.

Miss Dupuis smiled, the curve of her full lips not quite showing her teeth.

“Where are my manners?” Mr. Theobald said, his voice smooth, friendly, and inviting in a way that was hard to resist. “I am pleased to introduce Miss Sophie Dupuis, Miss Joonie Wright, and I myself, Otto Theobald. We are traveling east to Miss Dupuis’s father’s estate before the winter sets in. And whom do we have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“Cedar Hunt,” he said. “Most recently out of Oregon. Good evening, Miss Dupuis, Mr. Theobald. May your travels be smooth.”

“Please,” Miss Dupuis said. “Sit with us, Mr. Hunt. Join us for our meal. Joonie is a wonderful cook.”

Mr. Theobald looked at him expectantly. As if he had a rack of questions he was hoping Cedar would hang answers on.

“No, thank you, Miss Dupuis, Mr. Theobald. Perhaps tomorrow. I have other matters to attend.”

“We understand,” Mr. Theobald said. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand and Cedar shook it.

The look on Theobald’s face changed to something more like stunned respect, which didn’t make a lick of sense.

He certainly was an odd man. Cedar couldn’t quite get a bead on him.

“Ma’am,” Cedar said, nodding to Miss Dupuis, who gave him a soft smile.

“Good evening to you and yours, Mr. Hunt. I do hope we’ll have a chance to catch up tomorrow.”

Cedar walked to the bedroom. The sleeping quarters were a barracks that could bunk about a dozen people. Cots were lined up against the walls with empty shelves and coat hooks beside them.

Rose was settled in on a bed toward the end of the room. Molly sat on the cot next to her.

“Smells good out there,” Molly said. “Captain set Seldom loose on the griddle?”

“He did. How is she?”

Molly sighed. “Sleeping, I think. Or fainted. As comfortable as we can make her. Mrs. Lindson is hoping there’s some herbs in Jack’s stores that will help.” Molly paused, and looked over at Rose, who was pale and still. “That infection’s gone worse in a terrible short time,” she said. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold against it.”

“She’s strong,” Cedar said, stepping over to see her more clearly.

“I can tell she is,” Molly said. “You said my kinsmen thought kindly of her?”

Guffin, who had been lying on a cot toward the front of the room with his hat over his head, groaned and sat up. “I’ll leave you two ladies to your gossip. My belly’s chewing on my spine anyway.” He left the room.

Cedar sat on a bed next to Rose. “Yes, he did. Had her at his side since she was a young girl, I’m given to understand. She’s got a bit of the wild sciences in her, and Mr. Gregor had a way of making her see that as a good thing.”

Molly smiled. “She was whispering in her sleep. Something about matics and cogs and gears. Thought she might lean toward devising.”

“She’s handy with those sorts of things.” He wondered if he should put something in Rose’s hand, a device, a whimsy, so her busy fingers would be comforted, but he had nothing to give her. They’d lost everything they owned in that damn town.

Cedar ground his teeth until his anger became nothing more than frustration.

No trail was easy, but trying to get Mrs. Lindson to her coven had proved to be more than difficult. It was quite possibly going to cost Rose her life. Most likely had cost the stubborn Madder brothers theirs.