Read Nan Ryan for Free Online Page B

into my cabin I …”
    “No, not that. Why do you have a black pilot on your boat? All the men on your boat are Negroes, aren’t they? Why do you use slaves to run your ship?”
    He laughed and leaned closer, “Kathleen, Sam is not a slave, none of my crew are, they work for me. Sam would be hurt, darling. He’s a proud man and a very experienced riverboat pilot. He’s been standing his own watch for years. I admire and respect him.”
    “But the others? They aren’t slaves?”
    “Kathleen, I own no slaves.”
    She whirled and looked up at him. “What about the Negroes that work your plantation? I don’t understand.”
    “No, they all work for wages.” His jaw tightened and he looked straight at her and there was a fierceness in his black eyes that frightened her. “I don’t believe in one man owning another, Kathleen.”
    “But, Dawson, Father owns hundreds of slaves. Everyone does.”
    “Not everyone. I don’t and never have. Sam is my friend, an equal.”
    “Dawson, why do you feel so strongly about something that …”
    “Kathleen, there is more than one kind of slavery, all unpleasant. I know too well.”
    “I’m sorry, Dawson.” Her lips began to tremble, afraid he was upset.
    He said, “Let’s forget it. Don’t you love the river at night?” They turned back around to look out at the water.
    “Yes,” she answered dreamily, happy his mood had passed. She watched the lights of Natchez Under slide past her view and sighed, “Isn’t it romantic out here?”
    “Yes, it is, love,” Dawson kissed the top of her blond head.
    She murmured, “Dawson, what’s the name of your boat?”
    “ The Nighthawk ,” he answered, his lips still on her hair.
    “But I thought ships and boats were feminine, that you were supposed to give them women’s names. Why don’t you name it after a woman you care about?”
    “Have anyone in mind?” he teased.
    “Yes,” she said, a broad smile lighting her face, “I think you should name it after me.”
    “My girl, the name will be changed tomorrow morning before she leaves port. From now and forever more, the name of this little vessel shall be Diana Mine .”
    “Oh, Dawson, thank you,” she said, very pleased. Then the thought struck her that he must surely love her; he was going to name his boat after her, that would prove it to the whole world. If he loved her, then he surely must want to kiss her. Shyly she turned to face him. Dawson didn’t move, looked down at her tenderly, his arms still encircling her. She raised her hands to the black cloak covering his broad chest and looked up at him. His black eyes were studying her, the swarthy handsome face intent, thick black hair blowing softly in the wind, the sleek black moustache shiny above his full mouth. “Dawson,” she said coquettishly, “you know, I’ve never kissed a man with a mustache.”
    He threw back his head and laughed loudly, his white teeth flashing. She frowned as she watched him and when finally he stopped laughing and spoke, he raised a hand from the railing and put his fingers under her chin, “Kathleen, you’ve never kissed any man, with or without a mustache.”
    “How dare you, how do you know who I’ve …” The sentence was never finished. Dawson’s black, laughing eyes grew serious and he bent and covered her mouth with his, barely brushing her lips for a second.
    “I’m glad you’ve never kissed a man before, honey, and if I have my way, you will never kiss any other but me.” Again his lips covered hers. He kissed her tenderly and the kiss lasted longer and slowly the hand gripping the ship’s railing came away and went to her back.
    When he pulled away a little, Kathleen’s eyes were closed and she looked radiant. Slowly her lashes fluttered open and she looked up at him. “Oh, Dawson,” she whispered and her arms went around his neck. He pulled her even closer and she could feel his hard, muscled chest as he crushed her to him. Again he bent to kiss her