Free No Less Than the Journey by E.V. Thompson Page A

than I could by working anywhere else. I don’t think beyond that … but my drink has just about gone and yours must be too. Let me go and fetch you another.’
    ‘No, you stay here and enjoy having nothing to do. I’ll go and get them….’

CHAPTER 9
    When Wes woke the following morning the cabin was in darkness, although it was apparent from the curtained window that it was daylight outside.
    His head felt heavy, his temples were throbbing and it took him some minutes to gather his befuddled thoughts together and realize that part of his disorientation came from the fact that he was not in his own cabin. He became aware at the same time that he was not alone in the bunk.
    The body beside him stirred and the faint aroma of perfume brought memories of the events of the previous evening flooding back to him.
    At that moment his sleeping partner galvanized into life. Sitting up abruptly, Anabelita groaned before saying, ‘This was not meant to happen!’
    The bunk was hardly the size of a single bed and as Wes struggled to sit up too he was aware that his sleeping partner was wearing no more clothes than was he.
    Embarrassed, he said, ‘I … I’m sorry, it must have been the drink.’
    ‘Thank you very much!’ Anabelita said, indignantly, ‘Youcertainly know how to make a woman feel better about giving her all to a man.’
    ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that …’ Wes was floundering and he knew it, ‘I’m just … I’m trying to say “sorry”, that’s all.’
    ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? Just what exactly are you sorry about?’
    ‘Well … for forcing myself upon you, I suppose.’
    Falling backwards to lie with her head upon the pillow once more, Anabelita said, ‘If I quoted that in a courtroom do you think they would accept it as an admission of rape?’
    He realized – or hoped he did – that she was teasing him now and he responded accordingly. ‘I can’t imagine a judge and jury of healthy, virile men taking my word against yours, so if that’s what you intend doing I’d best be heading back to my cabin and getting ready to leave the Missouri Belle at its next call, which should be any time now.’
    As he was speaking he had swung his legs out of the bunk with the bed-sheet concealing the lower half of his body. In the dim light from the curtained window he could see his clothes. Some were on a chair beside the dressing-table, others being strewn on the floor nearby.
    There was no way he could recover them whilst still retaining a degree of modesty. He had just decided that modesty was a lost cause anyway, when Anabelita said, ‘Are you really sorry you made love to me?’
    Momentarily taken aback by the question, Wes hesitated before asking, ‘Can I be perfectly honest with you?’
    ‘I would prefer it if you were.’
    Despite her words, Anabelita sounded uncertain and Wes felt his reply was of some importance to her.
    ‘No, Anabelita, I’m not sorry for what we did together – and I never will be, whatever happens in the future – but I will feelguilty if you regret what happened.’
    ‘So it wasn’t just because you had too much to drink,’ she persisted.
    ‘No … but the drink did give me the courage I needed to make the first move.’
    ‘I don’t believe that! You are not lacking in courage in anything. The fight with the river pirates and the way you dealt with the Senator’s son is proof of that, but if that’s what you think you need, I’ll make sure there is always a bottle of bourbon here, in my cabin …’
    At that moment their conversation was interrupted by a long blast on the riverboat’s steam-whistle. It was followed by a succession of shorter blasts.
    ‘We must be approaching Memphis,’ Wes said. Forsaking all modesty now, he relinquished the bed-sheet, made a dive for his clothes and hurriedly began to dress.
    ‘What’s the hurry?’ Anabelita asked the question as she sat up in the bunk and watched him dressing, unabashed by the