can dispose of a haunting.â
âRight,â I mumbled, biting into my biscuit. âI guess one canât.â But even as I spoke, I was formulating a plan. Joseph Boyer had some spirit-hunting to doâand he needed to do it fast.
C HAPTER S IX
I stayed with Lang a few minutes more, swallowing back as much ham and coffee as I could before excusing myself for some shut-eye. âConsider my offer,â he called after me. âOne week, and you could be a Second Engineer.â
I was two steps from my cabin when Cassidy materialized around the corner. She rushed toward me, pausing two paces away. âWhat happened?â she whispered. âFather was practically frothing when he came into the pilothouse.â
âLang offered me a job.â
Her eyes bulged. âWhat?â
I opened my mouth to answer, but her hand shot up. âWait. We need privacy.â She threw a glance behind her, then grabbing hold of my wrist, she towed me to her cabin. It was hard for my heart not to pound when she pushed me inside and then locked the door softly behind her.
This would get me killed if Cochran found out.
But I was far more interested in how close Cassidy was standing. In how she pushed me over to her bed and then ordered me to sit.
âMr. Lang offered you a job?â She plopped down beside me, her voice low. âDoing what?â
As I relayed the story, her eyes grew wider and her lips pressed tighter. But when I reached the part about the Sadie Queen âs new future, my voice trailed off. Did she need to know the race was all for nothing? If this Joseph fellow could banish the ghosts, then there was still a chance for the old steamer.
And after that I could take Langâs offer, get my license, and maybe find work on a different steamer. Iâd be away from Cass, but that didnât mean we couldnât see each other. Hell, for all I knew Langâs plans for Cassidy were a license of her own on a steamship with me. We were the fastest team on the Mississippi, after all.
âWhat are you going to do?â She searched my face. âIf you accept, then maybe you could stay here. Replace Schultz asââ
âThat ainât happening, Cass.â I groaned, and set my elbows on my knees.
âWhy wonât it happen?â she asked softly.
I cleared my throat, not liking that I had to lie . . . but feeling pretty certain it was the right thing to do. âI, uh, sullied you, remember? If Cochran ever does agree to keep me, it wonât be âcos of a license. If anything, the fact that Lang took a shine to me has only made your father hate me more.â
She exhaled loudly. Then she draped my arm over her shoulders and curled up against my chest. It was . . . nice. And it was everything Iâd ever wanted from Cassidy.
Clack-clack-clack, thwump! I watched her long calloused fingers extend the spyglass . . . then shut . . . then extend it again. Those callouses hadnât been there a year ago, when sheâd first started her apprenticeship. Now her hands told a storyâa tale of dodging mudflats and braving hurricanes.
Clack-clack-clack, thwump! Clack-clack-clackâ
The temperature plummeted. My breath suddenly laced out with steam.
âBlood.â
Cass and I jerked rightâand then scrabbled off the bed.
An old man, his head snapped off and dangling by a single tendon, hovered on the bed. His form flickered and faded like fog. And when he spoke, it was in the voice of a little girl. âMy neckâmy throatâit hurts. It hurts!â
Cassidy clapped her hands over her ears.
âIt hurts! Make it stopâmake it stop!â The voice wailed through the room.
âIt isnât my fault,â Cassidy growled, her eyes screwing shut. âIt isnât. It isnât.â
âHey.â I laid my hands over hers.
Her eyes cracked open. âIt isnât my