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I’m going to stand right behind you, so you have nothing to worry about.”
    Kathleen stood steering the boat, the blond head barely able to peer over the wheel, the long pink cape blowing softly in the wind. Dawson stood directly behind her, saying, “Now just hold her steady, okay, turn just a bit, now straighten her out. You’re doing fine, honey.”
    “I’ve mastered it,” she laughed gaily and felt giddy and exhilarated, her blue eyes dancing. They made their way slowly down the Mississippi and Kathleen loved every minute of her adventure. Dawson stood quietly behind her, smiling to himself, happy with her pleasure.
    Around the bend of the river, a bright light suddenly came into view and Kathleen felt her hands tighten on the wheel. “Dawson, it’s another ship, what shall I do?”
    “Blow the whistle to signal him.”
    “How, I don’t know …”
    “Here it is,” Dawson pulled the rope closer to her. “Now, pull on it a few times.”
    She jerked the rope with all her might and jumped at the loud noise of the whistle blowing loudly. The oncoming vessel sounded a reply.
    “Now what, Dawson?” She put both hands back on the wheel.
    “Just keep right on your course and you’ll have no problems.”
    The lights were growing close and Kathleen was growing nervous. She wished Dawson were steering, wished he would take the wheel, relieve her of her duties. As though he had read her mind, Dawson stepped a little closer to her and she could feel his hard chest touching her back, his chin brushing the top of her head. Slowly Dawson’s hands covered her shaky grip and she smiled and leaned back, safe again, no longer frightened with him so near. They passed the lighted ship to starboard with only a few feet to spare.
    The crisis past, Kathleen relaxed. After a few minutes, Dawson leaned down and whispered, “I think that’s enough steering for your first time, matey.”
    “I agree,” Kathleen said, willing to give the wheel back to Sam. He stepped up, smiling, and took over from her. Kathleen lifted her skirts daintily and started down the companionway, saying, “Dawson, where’s your cabin?”
    “Below the wheelhouse.”
    “Good, show it to me.”
    “Dear, there’s nothing to see. It’s just a small cabin, large enough for me.”
    They were on the hurricane deck and she turned and said, “Please, Dawson, I want to see where you stay when you go out on the boat. Sam called you the captain, didn’t he? Well, I want to see the captain’s quarters!” Dawson smiled and led her underneath the wheelhouse, down a few steps to the cabin door. Taking a key from his pocket, he opened the door while Kathleen leaned forward eagerly, “Oh, Dawson,” she said, starting inside, but he put his arm across the door to stop her.
    “No, Kathleen, we aren’t going inside.” His eyes were strange and cold. Barely giving her time to glimpse the spacious room with its heavy desk and chair, mahogany paneled walls, oversized master bed neatly made, long leather couch, credenza with framed pictures on top, thick, rich carpet on the floor in a deep red shade, he was once again locking the door.
    “Dawson, I want to go inside and look around and see what …”
    “Miss, I don’t think you have any business being in my cabin.” Dawson meant it. His voice softened and he smiled at her, “Let’s go up to the bow and feel the spray on our cheeks.” Kathleen’s face brightened and she quickly agreed, but she was still puzzled about why he wouldn’t take her inside his cabin.
    Together they walked to the very front of the boat. Kathleen put her hands on the railing and breathed in the cold night air. Her long blond hair whipped around her face and she shivered. Dawson saw her shake and stepped up behind her. His hands clutched the railing in a wider arc than Kathleen’s, encircling her in his arms.
    “Dawson, I want to ask you something,” Kathleen said, looking out over the cold river.
    “If it’s about going