Devon Monk - Cold Copper

Rose made a small sound but clapped her hand over her mouth.

There was a pause, wherein she wondered if he’d heard her. Then he said, “Do me a favor, Seldom. There’s a man named Thomas Wicks who’s sweet on her. Kill him.”

“No!” Rose gasped. She stormed around from behind the door.

And ran straight into Hink’s massive chest.

“You were spying on me.” Hink reached out and caught her elbows to keep her from falling.

Rose adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and pushed away from his embrace.

“I was not. You were talking too loud.”

“I was having a private conversation. I can talk as loudly as I please.”

“You. You.” Rose felt the heat creep across her face. Too many thoughts were colliding in her brain, and too many emotions in her chest. He’d said she was good at her job, a better boilerman than even his last crew member, Molly Gregor. He’d told Mr. Seldom to look after her for him.

Because he cared about her, or cared about getting the Swift ’s boiler repaired?

“You will not have Thomas killed,” Rose blurted.

“Thomas?” Hink tipped his head down just a bit so that his eye was covered in shadow. “Are you on a first name basis with a man you’ve just met?” he asked softly. Too softly. “You did just meet him last night, didn’t you?”

Rose closed her mouth and glared at him. “I was on first name basis with you quickly enough. Why not also with an educated gentleman?”

“I had to beg you to use my first name.”

“You never told me your first name! I had to bribe it out of Mr. Seldom.”

“Aha!” Hink turned to his first mate and stabbed a finger toward the man. “I knew you told her.”

Mr. Seldom was a thin man with close-cut red hair and a face most often set in a droll expression. He wore coveralls, leather gloves, goggles, a flat cap, and a tool belt with an alarming range of things attached to it, each of which he could handily use as a weapon. He gave Hink a bored look.

Behind Seldom, filling every spare pocket of the shed was the Swift .

It didn’t take much imagination to see that she was an airship, even though bits of her were scattered out across the floor, stacked up against the shed walls, and hanging by chains from the rafters.

Her huge tin envelope was almost whole now that they’d had a couple months to rivet, bend, and weld. And all of her internal framework, also made of tin, was strong again.

The ship had been nearly blown out of the sky, and been so filled with holes, Rose didn’t know how she’d limped all the way to Kansas.

It had been good to work on her, to know her quirks. Even now, Rose’s fingers itched to pick up a wrench or a hammer, and start in on making her whole again, strong and fast.

But that was done now. Breaking up with the man meant breaking up with his ship. She was sure she’d miss the ship more.

“I’ll have your word,” Rose said, looking away from the beautiful airship. “Mr. Seldom, I’ll have your word that you’ll not harm Mr. Wicks while I’m gone.”

“While you’re gone?” Hink asked. “Where are you going? And in a dress, I might add.”

“I’m leaving Hays City. By train. Like a lady.”

“Are you now?”

“Yes. And I’m already late. Mr. Seldom, please do nothing to harm Mr. Wicks. He seems a decent, upstanding man, whom I spoke with only once. Also”—she stabbed Hink in the chest—“you have no right ordering innocent people to their deaths.”

“Need I remind you I am a U.S. Marshal? I could hang the man before you could say Nelly.”

“Nelly.”

Seldom snorted.

Hink gave him a deadly glare.

Seldom went back to stitching up the net he had hung over a rafter, pulling the rope through it to rebuild one of the Swift ’s glim-harvest trawling arms.

Rose walked over to Mr. Seldom. She stood with her back to Hink, hoping he hadn’t seen what she carried in her hand. “I trust you, Mr. Seldom. Please don’t bother Mr. Wicks.” She handed him the finder compass, which he took with a frown. “I think this should stay with the ship,” she said quietly. “A ship should always know where her captain is.”

She turned before he asked her any questions. He knew what the object was, had been mighty interested in her making a version for the ship, but now she wouldn’t need to. Seldom would be able to find Hink anywhere he was in this country. At least some good had come of all this.

“Good-bye, Mr. Seldom. Marshal Hink.” Rose turned and strode toward the door.

“Cage,” Hink corrected her. “It’s Marshal Cage or Captain Hink.”

“I’ll leave you to the sorting of your special names,” Rose said. “I have a future to find.”

Hink was quick and caught her arm.

“Without me?” He stepped up close, so she had to tip her head up to see the all of him.

Her heart about beat its way out of her chest. He’d left her. He’d gone sleeping with other women. Was he asking to be in her life, her future?

“Well…I have a train to catch,” she said softly.

“Isn’t that something?” he said with a smile. “So do I.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, you don’t.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know why you are so set upon bothering me!” she said. “I am leaving you behind.”

“This has nothing to do with bothering you. I’m set to leave on that train.” He stepped back and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his long, heavy coat, then shrugged. “Bothering you is just a happy accident.”

“Happy for whom?” Rose demanded.

“Me,” Seldom said. “Because then both of you will be out of earshot. Winds are turning, Captain.”

Hink looked up and over Rose’s shoulder, his eye widening at the brightness of day. “Hell, woman. I have a train to catch. Why’d you have to go and make me late?”

“I’m so sorry to get in your way!” Rose shouted. “Oh, and by the way, I’m taking your horse.”

Seldom snorted again.

“We both take the horse,” Hink said.

“I don’t think the horse can carry me and all the people you claim to be.”

“Ho there, airship people!” a cheery voice called out over the rattling of a cart.

Rose glanced over her shoulder. It was Margaret, one of the witches she’d heard in the hall last night. Margaret’s wild brown hair curled across her forehead just beneath the brim of her bonnet, pulled back to reveal her rounded features, which were covered with a liberal sprinkling of freckles. She was just a few years older than Rose, and smiled brightly, bundled up in the driver’s seat of a horse-drawn wagon. Half of the wagon was filled with supplies of some sort, covered over with a canvas tarp.

“I’m going in to pick up mail,” Margaret said. “Do you need a ride?”

“Yes,” Rose said, spinning on her boot heel and quickly securing the seat next to her. “Thank you so much. Quickly, I need to catch a train. We’re running out of time.”

Captain Hink said one last thing to Seldom and handed him a thick fold of bills. That would be enough money to finish the repairs on the ship and some.

“What about Captain Hink?” Margaret asked.

“He has other plans. Go. Go.”

Margaret flicked the reins and the horse started off at a brisk walk.

Unfortunately, Captain Hink had long legs. He jogged after the cart and jumped up into the back of it before they’d gone more than a short distance from the shed.

“Captain Hink,” Margaret said. “I thought you had other plans.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m bound for the rails. Seems there’s a future out there needs finding.”

Rose rolled her eyes and settled in for a long ride of ignoring him. Hands always restless for something to do, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small lock that she’d found broken on the ground in town the other day.