A Dawn Most Wicked (Something Strange and Deadly 0.5)

Oh, and of moving Cochran to the Adams as well. Fortunately he was unconscious and couldn’t put up a fight. He would make it to Natchez—but not if he had to stay behind on the slow-moving Queen.

Cassidy was white-faced, her mouth set in a grim line, as she helped carry him onto the Adams. I tried to speak to her . . . but she only snapped at me to get to the engine and “get the steamer moving again.”

I did as she ordered, and with a low heart and weary body, I made my way to the engine room. Where I found Kent Lang still at his post. The young man was soaked through with sweat, and several new slashes bled across his chest. Most impressive of all, though, was that he’d fallen asleep.

I shambled over and nudged him with my toe. Lang’s eyes snapped wide. He tensed, clearly expecting death. But then awareness sagged through him. “Thank God,” he breathed. “It’s you—and you’re still alive.”

“I’m still alive.” I sank to the floor beside him, sighing at the sheer pleasure of getting off my feet. Then I explained what had happened—and what we had to do now: get the Queen moving. Get her all the way to Natchez.

Lang huffed out a breath, but he didn’t argue. He simply attempted—somewhat pathetically—to drag himself to his feet. “I swear, Mr. Sheridan”—he gave a deep wince—“I never knew these muscles existed in my body. Now I not only know they’re there, I know that I hate them.”

“Consider it a life lesson, Mr. Lang.” I hauled myself up and extended my hand. “A chance to get to really know what goes on in your fleet.”

And at that Lang laughed. A full, rolling belly laugh that helped carry him upright. “You are absolutely correct, Mr. Sheridan.”

Before he could release my hand, though, I strengthened my grip and forced him to meet my gaze. “The Sadie Queen gets to stay on the Mississippi now. Right?”

His eyes flickered away from mine, and I could see the gears spinning in his head as he planned logistics and counted money. . . . But then he gave a slow nod. “If the ghosts are truly gone—”

“They are.”

“—then I see no reason to end the Queen’s career just yet.” He cast me a tired smile and pulled his hand free. “I’ll have to find a new captain, of course, but there are several in our fleet that will do.”

I stiffened. “New captain?”

“When I said Cochran would be fired as soon as we hit Natchez, I meant it.” Lang’s lips twisted down. “As the new president, I will not stand for behavior like his, and I have to make that clear from the start.”

“But he was just shot. A bullet got him right here.” I poked Lang in the shoulder with more force than I intended. The man winced, but that just fueled my words further. “That doesn’t matter to you, does it? You’re goin’ to fire him, and you don’t even care what the consequences are.”

Lang’s nostril’s flared. “I am sorry Cochran was injured, Mr. Sheridan, but if you wish to make me regret my decision, I suggest you stop. The captain lost support from the Lang Company long ago.”

“What about his sick daughter?” My voice roared out, louder and angrier than I wanted . . . but I couldn’t seem to keep it under control. We had all fought so hard, and for nothing. Ellis wouldn’t get treatment, and Cassidy’s heart would break. “You’ll punish her more than you’ll ever punish Cochran. But oh! What am I thinkin’?” I flung my arms wide. “You don’t care about your crew or your boats or anyone but yourself, Mr. Lang. You are just like every other rich man out there. All you care about is money and publicity—”

“That,” Lang snapped, shoving his face in mine, “is quite enough. You have no idea for what I do or do not care. I have plans for Cassidy Cochran—plans that will keep her sister comfortable. As soon as Miss Cochran told me about her sister, I wrote to England—to the Royal College of Surgeons. One of their doctors is the leading researcher for Hodgkin’s disease. With the right amount of . . . donations to his research, he has agreed to travel here and treat the younger Miss Cochran.”

My mouth bounced open. Royal College of Surgeons? England? Was Lang serious? “Why?” I asked, shaking my head. “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing is in it for me.” An offended scowl creased his forehead. “I happen to care for Miss Cassidy Cochran. If I am a lucky man, then one day she might harbor such feelings in return. And if not, then at least I know I helped a girl in need.”

He had feelings for Cass? Had I that heard that right? But when I gaped at his face, I saw only a stubborn slant to his jaw.

I jumped back like he was on fire. “Are you gonna marry her?” When his expression didn’t change, I reared back another step, gripping the sides of my face. “So you’re bribing her feelings by helping her sister—”

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