CHAPTER ELEVEN
A crewman decked out in dress blues met Adam and Josie at the top of the gangway.
"Good morning, sir, miss," he said, tipping his hat. "Welcome to the Morning Star. May I have your name, please?"
Adam gave it, and the crewman's eyes widened. "Oh, Mr. Cartwright!" He straightened. "Welcome aboard! Jones here will direct you to your stateroom." He indicated another crewman standing to his left. "And please join us tonight for dinner and a reception with Captain Pike."
"Thank you," Adam said, and he pressed a silver dollar into the man's hand.
They followed Jones down a hallway and up a flight of stairs to their stateroom.
"Here we are, sir," Jones said as he pushed open the heavy oak door.
Josie gasped as she stepped into their suite. The parlor alone was nearly as large as the sitting room in her home in Washington, DC. On the opposite side from the door was a large window with a window seat, and next to it another door that led onto a private balcony. In a small alcove near the balcony door was a dining table for when they wanted to take meals in their stateroom. The parlor had a plush red carpet, a long settee, and two leather armchairs next to a mahogany coffee table. To the right and left were additional doors that led to the suite's two bedrooms. Adam smiled in approval.
"This should do, don't you think?" he said.
Josie merely nodded, her mouth agape. "You shouldn't have spent so much," she said when she found her voice.
Adam chucked her under the chin. "Consider it a graduation present. Besides, Hoss and Little Joe insisted I bring you home in style."
Jones led them across to the bedroom door on the left. "Your bedroom, Miss Cartwright." Adam whispered quickly to Jones, who corrected himself. "My apologies. I meant Dr. Cartwright."
Josie barely registered the correction; her mouth had dropped open again. In the center of the room stood an enormous four-poster bed with rich, velvet curtains. A matching mahogany chest of drawers and a wardrobe stood handsomely against one wall, and a red armchair that matched the bed curtains sat in a corner next to the window. A small door opposite the window led to a private washroom. Her trunks had already been delivered and set at the foot of the bed.
She'd stayed in high-class hotels before, but she hadn't been expecting such luxury on board a ship. When she traveled west eleven years ago, their staterooms had been comfortable, but nowhere near this opulent. She tried not to imagine how much the suite had cost. She stepped slowly into the room and approached the bed. She ran one hand admiringly down the crimson curtains and turned to Adam.
"Thank you," she breathed.
Adam smiled. "Nothing but the best for the new Dr. Cartwright." He pressed a gold coin into Jones's hand and thanked him for his assistance. Jones bowed and slipped out of the stateroom.
While Adam checked out his own bedroom—a smidge smaller than Josie's but every bit as posh —Josie sat on the edge of her bed and smiled as she sank slightly into the feather mattress.
"Adam really shouldn't have spent so much," she muttered, even as she silently admitted that she was pleased he had. She let herself fall backward onto the plush mattress and sighed as she made contact with the soft down blanket. Sleepiness descended on her like a heavy cloud as the previous night's restlessness caught up to her. She blinked twice and decided she would just rest her eyes for a few minutes. She was sound asleep within seconds.
That was how Adam found her ten minutes later when he poked his head in to see if she wanted to stand on the balcony with him as the ship pushed away from the dock. One corner of his mouth curled up as he gazed at his sleeping cousin. People always looked younger when they were sleeping. Josie could have been a little girl of seven or eight again. He considered waking her but casting off wasn't all that exciting. They had no one to wave to on the dock anyway.
"Besides," he thought as an enormous yawn split his jaw, "Josie seems to be on to something." He returned to his own room, pulled off his boots, laid down on his bed, and fell asleep.
It was just after two p.m. when Adam stirred, so he rang the bell for a crewman. Jones appeared at their door within moments, and Adam asked him to please bring up some sandwiches and coffee since he and Josie had missed lunch.
Josie awoke just as the sandwiches arrived, and she emerged from her bedroom massaging that same kink in her neck.
"I have to stop falling asleep like that," she groaned. "How long was I out?"
"Nearly five hours," Adam said, rising from the settee and glancing at the clock that sat on the shelf along one wall of the parlor.
Josie glanced out the windows and saw nothing but water. "I guess I missed the castoff."
"So did I. I thought about waking you, but a nap seemed like a better idea."
"Thank you." She crossed to the table and sat down, staring greedily at the ham sandwiches Adam had ordered. "You better hurry up, or I might eat all of these without you."
Adam grinned but knew she wasn't joking. When Josie was truly hungry, she could give Hoss a run for his money. As they ate, he told her about the captain's dinner and reception the crewmen had mentioned when they boarded. All first-class passengers aboard the Morning Star were invited to dine with the captain on their first evening, and as the residents of the finest stateroom, Adam and Josie were to be seated at the captain's own table. Josie's eyebrows shot up when Adam mentioned they were in the finest stateroom, though looking around at the décor, she shouldn't be surprised.
"How did you manage that on such short notice?" she demanded. They'd decided to sail on this ship less than a week ago, when all the best staterooms should have already been booked.
"Sheer dumb luck. I was just hoping for second class, but when I went to book our passage, the man at the ticket office mentioned they'd had several cancelations due to the war. I asked if any of those had been first class, and, lo and behold." He gestured grandly to their parlor.
"I am glad I did not give away all my best gowns," Josie said.
They finished their sandwiches and coffee and returned to their bedrooms to unpack. Josie dived into her trunk of fanciest gowns, hoping at least one of them wouldn't be too wrinkled to wear to dinner tonight. She was relieved when she extruded her favorite sapphire-blue gown and discovered the silk wasn't terribly crushed. She hung the gown from the bar in her wardrobe and flitted back into the parlor to ring for a maid. When the maid arrived, Josie gave her the gown with careful instructions for steaming out the wrinkles and a request for assistance in dressing before dinner. The young lady tried to assist Josie with the rest of her unpacking, but Josie sent her on her way, saying she was perfectly capable of hanging up her own dresses.
The maid returned early that evening with Josie's gown perfectly steamed. Adam was reading a book on the settee and looked up in surprise when Josie announced she was going to start dressing for supper.
"It's still two hours until supper."
Josie smiled at him indulgently like a parent to a child. "That should be just enough time."
"It takes two hours to get dressed?"
"For a woman in the East attending a high-class formal dinner, yes."
Adam shook his head in astonishment.
"One of the many reasons I am grateful to be headed to Nevada rather than to Boston," Josie said as the maid ushered her into her bedroom.
Josie did indeed require two hours for dressing. The maid helped her strip off the cotton day dress she was wearing and wrapped a corset around her torso, overtop her chemise. Josie gripped one bedpost as the maid cinched the laces on the corset. Having been squeezed into a corset far too often for her liking, she inhaled deeply just before the maid yanked on the laces. If she held her breath through the lacing, when she exhaled, she would have a half inch of breathing room inside her corset. She'd learned the trick during her first trip to the Ponderosa when she was watching Hoss saddle a horse. He'd shown her how the horse held its breath while he cinched the saddle. As soon as he turned away, the horse exhaled, leaving the saddle's cinch loose. If he didn't tighten it a second time, the saddle—and its occupant—would slide right off the side of the horse within a few strides. Josie thought that horse was brilliant and employed its strategy every time she had to wear a corset. Fortunately, she had yet to encounter a lady's maid who figured out her trick.
After the corset, the maid grabbed Josie's bell-shaped hoop skirt and tied it around her waist, securing the front flap closed with straight pins. Finally, Josie was ready for her gown. The maid slipped it over her head and buttoned up the back. Josie admired herself in the mirror that sat in one corner of her room. She was generally disinterested in fashion, but she adored this gown. The azure silk was striking against her black hair and pale skin, and it was cut in the most current style with a low neckline, short, puffed sleeves, and a gathered waist. The neckline and the full skirt were trimmed with delicate black lace. The maid stood back and admired her.
"It's beautiful, miss," she said in a light British lilt.
"Thank you." Josie smiled and spun around to make the skirt twirl before sitting in front of the dressing table for the maid to style her hair.
If being bound into a corset was uncomfortable, having her hair styled was sheer torture. If left to her own devices, she would pull her long hair into a simple braid, which she would coil around itself to create a plaited bun. It was easy and practical for her medical work, but formal evening affairs called for formal evening hair, and she had yet to find anyone who could style her hair without yanking on it. This young lady, however, was surprisingly gentle. She deftly wove one broad braid across Josie's hairline and pinned the end in place behind her right ear. The rest of Josie's hair she left cascading in a fashionable waterfall style around which she wrapped another thick plait. As a finishing touch, she tucked several sprays of pure white lilies-of-the-valley securely into the top braid. The flowers glowed against Josie's black hair, and the young maid smiled with satisfaction at her completed work.
"I dare say, that's my best yet," she said.
Josie was stunned. Most lady's maids were unsure what constituted a proper style for a woman of twenty years and left her looking like either a child or an old schoolmarm. This was perfect. It was youthful, but not childish.
"It's gorgeous," Josie breathed.
The maid smiled. "Thank you, miss. Do you need anything else?"
"No," Josie said, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was nearly time to go. "Thank you very much." She dropped a few coins into the maid's palm and sent her off. She slipped a pair of low-heeled black silk slippers onto her feet and grabbed her black lace gloves from the dressing table. She pulled on the gloves as she headed into the parlor.
Waiting on the settee in his best suit, Adam leapt to his feet when he saw Josie's bedroom door swing open. She stepped into the parlor, and he instantly understood why she'd needed two hours for preparation. He felt a bit sad at how grown-up his little cousin had become. He also felt horribly inadequate and underdressed. He'd considered purchasing a fancier suit before leaving Philadelphia, but there hadn't been enough time for the tailoring. Maybe if he stayed a step behind Josie as they entered the dining room everyone would be so preoccupied staring at her that no one would look at him. He also wondered if it would be inappropriate to wear his gun to dinner. He'd recently upgraded his old Colt Walker .44 to the much lighter, more reliable Remington Army .44, and it might not hurt to show it off a little.
Josie could almost hear Adam's mind working as he stared. "What's wrong?" she asked in mild alarm. She glanced at her dress to see if there was a noticeable tear or stain, and then another thought occurred to her. "Is this too fancy?"
Adam's jaw worked up and down a few times before he emitted any sound. "No," he croaked. "You look absolutely stunning. I look like I just rolled in on a stagecoach." He glanced down at his simple black dress pants and jacket, white shirt, and black string tie.
Josie smiled sweetly at him. "I think you look very dashing." She remembered the care Adam had taken in college to dress like his classmates so he didn't stick out as a country bumpkin. He probably wished he'd had time to better attire himself for their first-class status. "Come along, Mr. Cartwright," she said. "We do not want to leave our admirers waiting."
Adam grinned, offered Josie his arm, and escorted her from their stateroom.