Kid's large hand was clenched in a death grip around the narrow, wooden deck rail as he watched the muddy Mississippi churn and foam against the hull below him. He and Lou had disembarked the train at the La Crosse station early that morning, and after securing tickets on the packet sternwheeler Ariel, they'd had just enough time to freshen up a bit and enjoy a hearty steak-and-eggs breakfast. It was a decision Kid was now bitterly regretting. His previous maritime experience consisted of a few ferry trips across much smaller bodies of water. And though he was accustomed to the constant up and down motion of horseback riding, it was nothing like the slow rolling and undulating of the Ariel's keel against the powerful current. His stomach was rolling, too, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his brow.

Lou stood next to him, admiring the forested banks across the river even while she continued the grumble she'd commenced the moment they stepped off the train and caught sight of the rough-and-tumble town of La Crosse, Wisconsin. Though the town was said to have nearly 4,000 residents, it was only nine years old and the vast majority of its citizens had arrived within the two years since the railhead had been established there. Apart from the teeming riverfront, La Crosse had the look of a town only half finished. Its roads were rough and muddy and the wood frame commercial buildings were as yet unweathered and streaked with pine sap.

"I can't imagine what St. Paul must be like, if a jerkwater town like La Crosse has a rail station and it don't," she fussed. "What kinda life could my sister and brother have in these sticks? Place is more Indians than white folks, I'll wager." Though she loved their half-Kiowa fellow rider Buck like a brother, Lou had been raised on the plains, where interactions between settlers and natives had always been volatile, and she had her own prejudices.

"Well, it's not like St. Joe is exactly Paris, Lou," Kid answered wearily, conjuring up the fanciest-sounding place he could think of. His head was throbbing and Lou had been complaining nonstop since they stepped onboard. The current was running swifter just here, causing the boat to lurch a little – and Kid's gullet lurched right along with it.

"Ain't the same," Lou insisted. "Folks back in Nebraska are farmers and ranchers and good, honest storekeepers. How the Sam Hill is a body supposed to make a living surrounded by all them trees you talked about?"

"I don't know." Kid pressed this thumbs to his temples. "But I'm sure there's good folks here, same as in Rock Creek."

Lou hrrumphed. "Sure. People who steal innocent children away from their own kin. That's good folks, all right."

Her increasingly shrill tone was beginning to feel like an ice pick in Kid's ear. Couldn't she see he wasn't in the mood for conversation?

"The Oglethorpes didn't know your kids already had a family," he pointed out weakly. The sun dancing across the tops of the waves dazzled his eyes, causing sharp pricks of pain, and he closed them tightly against the sight.

"Are you defendin' those people?" Lou squawked. "I never in a million years thought you-"

"Can't you just stifle for even a minute?" Kid suddenly exploded. He pried open his eyes to see her looking up at him in stunned amazement – an expression that swiftly transformed into icy resentment.

"I-I'm sorr-" Kid started to apologize, but her eyes had turned hard and her mouth was set in a thin line.

"Have it your way," she huffed. "I won't trouble you any more with my company." She turned on her heel and stomped off toward the far end of the deck. Watching her skirt swish away, Kid briefly considered going after her. Then the boat slipped into a long, sideways roll and it was all he could do to keep his trembling knees from buckling.

Kid had no idea how long he stood there, gulping like a fish, but he was sure he could have ridden to Denver and back in the time it was taking this infernal boat to get to St. Paul. Once or twice, when a choppy current thrust the steamer steeply up, then violently down into the trough of a wave, Kid toyed with the notion of throwing himself over the side to put an end to his misery. In a kind of woozy stupor, Kid failed to notice Lou come up beside him until he heard her voice at his elbow.

"I brought a peace offering."

He turned his head just as Lou shoved an enormous green pickle under his nose. The odor of brine hit him like a boxer's hammy fist, and he gasped. "Oh, God!" he moaned before doubling over the rail and delivering the remains of his breakfast to the fishes. Kid continued to retch for a long time after his stomach was empty. When he finally slid down the railing into a limp heap on the deck, he found Lou kneeling beside him. She pressed something cool and wet to his forehead.

"Why in tarnation didn't you just say somethin'," she scolded.

"S'embarrassed," he gulped. "Didn't want you to think I was a sissy."

"Good lord," she muttered, but her tone was as soft and gentle as the palm she now lay against his cheek. Kid closed his eyes and sat back against the rail. He was dimly aware of Lou sitting down next to him, and a minute later felt something pressed against his parched lips.

"Suck on this," Lou said. "I got it from the lady who sold me the pickle." Kid curled his lip at the mention of the item that had sent him over the edge. "Sorry," she apologized with just a hint of amusement. The sick man was in no mood to put anything more into his mouth, probably for the rest of his life, so he clamped his lips closed tightly.

"Try it," she coaxed. "The lady said it would help."

Reluctantly, because he couldn't deny her anything, Kid opened his mouth wide enough for Lou to slip something inside. It was a lozenge, strong-tasting but not unpleasant, like a piece of ginger candy. He rolled it over his tongue, not really expecting it to quell his stomach, but at least it cut the taste of bile in his throat. To his surprise, in only a few minutes he felt his queasiness beginning to subside. Soon he felt steady enough to open his eyes. He found Lou watching him closely and with evident concern. Kid became aware of her hand on his forearm, stroking gently in a comforting way, and he found the gesture so endearing he thought his heart my burst.

"Feelin' some better?"

He nodded. Then the boat rocked slightly and he groaned. "Don't this bother you at all?"

"Nope. Just hits people differently, I guess." She leaned closer. "But I'll tell you somethin' if you promise not to tell the other boys."

Kid nodded his assent.

An embarrassed little grin played around Lou's rosebud mouth. "The first time I got up on a horse, I upchucked all over myself."

"Yer lyin'."

She laughed. "It's the God's honest truth. Swore I'd never get on one of them again." Then she shrugged and added casually, "'Course, I was only three at the time."

Despite his still-shaky stomach, Kid had to smile. "Well, you sure got over it. You're the best rider I ever saw."

Lou ducked her head shyly. "Thanks. Comin' from you, that means a lot."

Her smile mesmerized him. He figured he could spend the rest of his life just staring into those brown eyes. But after a moment, Lou gave him a playful slug on the arm. "Are you up to going to the top gallery? I heard a fella say we'd be coming into sight of St. Paul soon."

"Thank God." Kid allowed Lou to help him to his feet. He never wanted to look weak in front of her, but had to admit that being doted over a little felt nice. Lou would make a wonderful mother someday, he was sure, and he dreamed it would be him standing by her bedside when her first little one was placed in her arms.

Soon after climbing the narrow ladder to the open-air gallery on top of the wheelhouse, Kid was sorry they hadn't come sooner. The breeze was fresher up there, and great gulps of cool air did wonders for settling his stomach. He soon found himself enjoying the view of the wide river ahead and the talk, densely wooded bluffs on both banks. They shared the river now with other traffic: small fishing craft, stubby towboats and even another large paddle-wheeler, the Alex McGill, that blew its steam whistle as it passed by.

Kid sensed a growing excitement as more and more passengers joined them. There was a bend in the river ahead, and as the Arial rounded it, the new capital of the new state of Minnesota came into view. A cheer went up from the assembled watchers, and Kid found himself joining in, though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was the sheer unexpectedness of it – the sudden parting of the treeline to reveal a collection of buildings spilling down from the high, rocky bluff to the water's edge. Young it might be, but St. Paul was clearly a city on the rise.

The most prominent feature on the skyline was a huge structure that Kid figured must be a mill. He could see houses, many of them quite grand, lining the top of the ridge. Far below, the riverfront was abuzz with activity. Boats of many sizes nestled along the banks, and the wharf thronged with people hurrying in all directions.

Kid nudged an awestruck Lou. "Still think this is an uncivilized backwater?"

She threw him a wry look. "We'll see."