Hink was itchy with the need to be doing something. To find the Holder or Alabaster Saint for the president, to get Rose to someplace that could mend her—hell, to get himself and his crew on a range of mountain that wasn’t filled with folk bent on wanting to see him and his ship dead.
But no matter how much he tried to tell himself it was all the crashing and being shot at that had set his nerves on edge, he knew that wasn’t so.
It was Rose Small.
He’d only spoken to her twice. But there was something about her, something behind that knowing smile and innocent eyes. Yes, she was a pretty thing, but he’d seen plenty of pretty women when he was growing up in a bordello. And he’d seen plenty of pretty women since then.
There was something about her. Even fevered, in pain, she stirred him. Made him wonder what her laughter sounded like. Made him wonder what would catch her temper, and what would tease her toward forgiveness.
Mae said she was looking for family. And Rose had seemed intense, rapt, when he’d been talking about the ship, about glim.
The sort of woman who wanted to travel, who found things around her wondrous even when it was just as clear how equally dangerous they were, was rare in this world.
Molly said he had fallen for her. He hated it when that Gregor woman was right.
Still, there wasn’t anything he could do about his feelings. Not right now.
He rolled over, and punched at the blanket roll under his head. The cots were loose strung and about as comfortable as sleeping on a swayback horse. He thought the stone floor might put fewer kinks in his back.
Didn’t seem to be bothering the others. Seldom and Guffin were snoring away, and Molly too, though more softly. He could pick out Cedar Hunt’s breathing and wasn’t fully convinced he was asleep. Mae, though, was still and breathing evenly. And Rose…
She made a small coughing sound in the back of her throat as if she were thirsty.
Then he heard her shifting, likely trying to get to the cup of water near her bed.
Mae would help her.
He waited for Mrs. Lindson to move. Nothing. Waited a bit longer.
Rose made that sound again, then caught at her breath as if waiting for a pain to pass, or trying to keep a coughing spell at bay.
Surely Mae heard that.
When Mae still didn’t move, Hink shifted a bit in his bunk, then sat. His eyes had adjusted to the light and he could see Mae was curled on her side. Her eyes were closed. Everyone else looked lost in the land of dreams, so Hink made his way over to Rose’s bed.
He wasn’t bringing a pillow this time. No, he’d do his best to avoid talking to her, for that matter. She had a way of making him feel doubtful, clumsy. Except for when he was talking about his ship. Nothing made him feel awkward when he was talking about the Swift.
Mr. Hunt didn’t stir as he passed. Neither did Molly or Mae.
He paused below Rose’s cot. She had her hand over her eyes. Maybe she was sleeping. She coughed again, a dry hack, and he could see her throat working to get moisture.
Hink came up beside her bed. “Rose?” he whispered.
She didn’t answer.
He tried again. “Miss Small, do you need some water?”
Rose lowered her hand. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but she nodded. “Please,” she barely rasped.
Hink took the cup from the shelf and sniffed it. Didn’t smell like booze or tea. Just to be sure, he took a very small sip. Stale, but water.
“Here.” He held the cup out and she took it, raising it up to her lips. But her hand was shaking so badly he was afraid she was going to knock a tooth out.
Hink wrapped his hand under hers, helping her bear the weight of the cup and steadying her trembling.
She drank the cup dry and then let him take it away and replace it on the shelf.
“Was that enough?” he whispered.
She nodded.
He just stood there staring at her. Like a boy who was tongue-tied and slow.
“I suppose I should go,” he said quietly. “Unless you need anything else?”
“No.” Then, thinking twice, she said, “Yes. I mean, yes, if it’s not too much of a bother.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I was already up. Can’t seem to sleep tonight.”
“Neither can I,” she said.
“So what is it you need?” Hink asked. “Medicine? Mrs. Lindson?”
“The sky.”
“What?”
“I feel…” She licked her lips as if trying to work out the words before she said them. “I feel all cooped up here in this stone, here in this bed. I feel like I’ve been on my back, sick, for years. It hasn’t been years, has it?” she asked.
“Just a couple days, I’m given to understand,” Hink said.
“I’d like to see the sky. The stars, if they’re out tonight.”