Ransom at Sea Read Free Page B

and one does want to be sure of one’s company.”
    On the deck of the Genessee, the slight flush that had appeared on Samantha Farraday’s cheeks at Driscoll’s words had faded. She sighed heavily and gave her husband’s arm a squeeze.
    â€œLook at them,” she said, though they had their backs turned to the passengers on the pier. Her husband patted her hand. She continued without animosity. “A bunch of doddering old folks. Do you mind too much?”
    The captain laughed lightly. “I don’t mind at all.”
    â€œYou must! This has to feel like a comedown after the navy.”
    He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Is that how it seems to you? That I’ve come down?”
    â€œNo!” Samantha exclaimed with distress. “No! I didn’t mean that. I love what we’re doing. I love the business. I love being on the lake. It’s just, when I look at the caliber of our passengers sometimes, I worry about what you think of our life.”
    â€œI don’t miss being in the navy. And I love our life as much as you do.” He said this in what Samantha called his textbook tone, which always left her wondering what he really thought.
    A man appeared through a door on the second level. He was tall with short blond hair he kept combed back. He was dressed in black denim pants and a tight white nylon shirt that showed off a well-chiseled torso. He sprinted up the steps to the first deck, gave a wave in the direction of the captain, then headed down the boarding plank.
    â€œGood morning, ladies and gentlemen,” the man proclaimed jauntily as he reached the promenade. “My name is David Douglas—you can call me David. I’m the head steward on the Genessee, which means that I pretty much do everything.” He laughed self-effacingly. “I guess we’ve reached that time in the world when everything’s reversed—used to be if you were the head of something, that meant you got to sit back and delegate. Now it means just the opposite: I’m the one that makes sure all the work gets done, that each and every one of you is happy, and that everything’s shipshape and Bristol fashion—whatever that means. And usually I do it myself. I’m just telling you so’s you know that if you want anything at all while you’re on board, anything at all, you just say the word to me, and if it can be done I’ll do it!”
    The passengers all seemed to be a bit taken aback by this sudden, lengthy introduction. They stared at Douglas with bewilderment.
    He broke the silence with a clap of his hands. “So! Anybody feel the need for help getting up the boarding plank?”
    â€œOh, yes, yes,” Miss DuPree said eagerly. “I think I would like some help!”
    â€œOkey-doke, ma’am! Just leave your bag there.”
    A small young man had come down the plank and joined Douglas. The new arrival had black hair and skin the color of a football.
    â€œOh!” said Douglas. “This is Hoke, the other steward, which makes up my whole staff. He’ll be helping out as well.”
    Hoke smiled uncertainly.
    â€œGet the bags together first, out of the way so they don’t trip over them, then help some up.” Douglas instructed Hoke quietly. Then he held out a hand to Miss DuPree. “Now, ma’am, if you will, I’ll help you up the ramp.”
    DuPree placed her hand in his and rose unsteadily. Douglas bent slightly and put a hand on the old woman’s thin wrist in an attempt to steady her.
    â€œThere you go, ma’am. You’re all right now.”
    â€œThank you … David.” She said his name as if she were trying it on for size.
    He allowed her to slip an arm through his and then began the slow process of walking her up the ramp. The captain’s wife appeared at the top with a clipboard in hand, ready to check in the passengers.
    Claudia Trenton emitted a