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Adam didn’t plan on testing his luck in that department. He kept them to the shadows of his personal shortcuts until they emerged by the water.

TheMary Leewas tied up to the sea wall between a pair of larger fishing sloops. The steamboat looked small in comparison. Small was good. TheMary Leehad an exceptionally shallow draft, which meant that Adam could navigate further upriver before he had to disembark and continue on foot. The boat couldn’t carry much cargo, but that was okay. Adam mostly traveled with what he could carry on his back and acquired the rest of what he needed along the way.

The low, gray deck was begging for a new coat of paint, as were the waist height rails that bordered it. The boat had no cabin—only a canopy, tattered at the edges, which hung in front of the pipe for the steam engine. The coal box in the stern was nearly full, and a quick peek under a pair of loose boards on the deck revealed that nobody had raided Adam’s storage hold while the boat was docked.

Most importantly, his lucky rock was just where he’d left it on the shelf by the boiler. Adam gave the lumpy gray stone—which looked a bit like a squatting hedgehog—a ritual pat as he hopped on board.

“Are you quite certain it won’t sink?” the woman asked, eyeing the boat skeptically as she hovered on the bank.

Ellie, Adam decided silently—that was how he’d think of her. It was easier thanMrs. Nitherscott-Watby.

Or he could simply call her ‘Princess.’ She obviously loved that.

“TheMary Leehas seen a lot more of the bush than you have,” he replied as he extended his hand to where Ellie hovered on the bank.

She ignored it and hopped down onto the deck unassisted. The boards echoed hollowly under her sturdy boots.

Adam glanced at his lingering hand and then tucked it into his pocket.

“Welcome aboard,” he grumbled and set to work firing the engine.

?

Adam drove theMary Leea few miles down the coast from Belize Town before stopping for the night, tying the steamboat up against some of the mangroves that lined the water. He strung a pair of hammocks from the iron poles that supported the canopy, and then draped the frame with mosquito netting, pausing to swat at one of the bugs that whined past his ear.

The woman gave the arrangement a wary look with her hands poised on the hips of Óscar’s canvas trousers. The pants seemed to fit her well enough with the ankles rolled up.

She refrained from protesting as she climbed into the hammock, looking only a little awkward as she did so. When Adam peeked at her a few minutes later, she was already asleep, the lines of her face relaxed into an unfamiliar openness.

That black trinket of hers hung around her neck, tucked into the front of her shirt. She had tied the ribbon back together as Adam steamed them south, slipping it over the messy bundle of her hair.

Stretched out in the hammock beside her, Adam took a little longer to find his own oblivion. He wasn’t used to sharing theMary Leewith a woman. The canopy wasn’t all that big, leaving the other hammock close enough that if he’d reached out a hand, he might’ve given it a little push.

Or something else.

No pushing, he thought as turned down the lantern and rolled over to face the other way. Nosomething elsing, either.

?

Dawn arrived sooner than Adam would’ve liked. He packed up the hammocks and mosquito netting, and set the well-tuned boiler to steaming again. Soon, the mangroves were gliding past once more—a sea of vibrant green that bordered waters of a pure cerulean blue.

Ellie sat on the bench in the bow, holding up her face to the bright golden sun. The light of it fell across the spray of freckles that dotted her nose.

“Here,” Adam said. He reached under his seat by the rudder, pulled out a battered khaki scout hat, and tossed it at her. “You’ll get a sunburn.”

She gave the hat a surreptitious sniff before popping it onto her head.

Adam couldn’t really blame her for that. It had probably been a good idea.

The wide brim cast a shadow over her face.

“What about you?” she demanded.

“I’m kinda past the point of sunburns,” Adam admitted, leaning back against the rail with his arm resting on the handle of the rudder.

A pair of pelicans rose from a rickety abandoned dock that emerged from the thick mangroves on the shore. The birds sailed over theMary Lee’s wake, obviously hoping that the steam launch was a fishing boat likely to throw out some extra bait.

“Are we going to the mouth of the Sibun River, then?” Ellie asked.