The Gunslinger and the Heiress. Kathryn Albright

      “Why not?”

      “They’re still laying track. Won’t be done for another two months or so.” When she didn’t move, he arched one dark brow. “Something wrong with the ferry?”

      She swallowed. “I...I just thought... The hotel is on a peninsula, isn’t it? I thought we would take the train or...perhaps a buggy?”

      “We’d never make it in time for the ceremony.”

      “Still—there must be another route...a shortcut perhaps?”

      He smirked. “Other than a hot air balloon ride over the harbor, this is your only option.”

      His sarcasm irked her. “You needn’t be condescending. I’m well aware the sea breeze would send a balloon toward the foothills—not toward the peninsula.”

      “I’m not tryin’ to be—” He stopped talking. The puzzlement on his face dissolved into speculation. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you’re afraid of the water? Miss Lansing, heir to one of the largest shipping enterprises on the West Coast—is afraid to get on a boat?”

      Her cheeks warmed. “Of course not. That would be silly.”

      “Then, what is the problem?”

      “I just prefer land travel to water. Always have.”

      His expression sobered. “It’s a short ride on the ferry. You can see the other landing from here. No waves, no swells. I’m not taking a buggy twenty miles out of my way just so you can keep your boots dry. We either take the ferry or we don’t go.”

      Hannah rubbed her forehead. This was unexpected. She had to talk to the two owners of the Hotel Del Coronado, or at least the manager. They’d all be at the ceremony today. “There must be another solution,” she said, although her voice carried none of its previous strength. “I...I really must attend.”

      His green eyes hardened. “It’s the ferry or nothing.”

      She gazed longingly at a carriage passing by. It had been years since she’d last boarded a boat. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad now. Perhaps, if she forced herself, she could overcome her discomfort. “Very well. It seems I have no choice. The boat it is.”

      They turned the corner and passed a grocery with boards on the windows and then, farther down the street, a sad-looking milliner’s storefront with nothing but empty hat stands in the windows.

      Her steps slowed. “I was informed business was doing well here.”

      He glanced sideways at her. “A month or so ago land prices started coming down. Your stake in the Hotel Del might not have been timed the best. People ’round here are selling out and leaving.”

      She nearly told him the truth then—that there was no money invested, although it had been her wish to advance a small sum. Grandfather had refused. In the end, she held to her own counsel and let Caleb assume what he would. Better too little information than too much.

      They walked a while before he spoke again. “So are you going to tell me anytime soon how you got your voice back?”

      It was inevitable he’d ask. She had prepared an answer—enough to satisfy his curiosity and no more. It was the “more” she wanted to avoid.

      “You said it had been a while,” he prompted.

      “Nearly four years ago.” She could see him calculating back. “It was the hypnotist. I saw him for over a year, going back weekly. Grandfather was not happy about that—he thought him a charlatan at first. But the man, Mr. Donniger, was adamant that it would take more than just a few visits, that each session built on the last. And something... I guess a small change, a small insight each time, made me keep going back. Six months into the therapy, I uttered my first word.”

      Caleb blew out a low whistle. “So it worked after all. I was of the same mind as Dorian about the hypnotist.”

      “I remember.”

      They stepped around the corner of a brick warehouse and the sea air swirled around her skirt. Quickly she clutched her bonnet, tying the ribbons more securely beneath her chin. The strong odor of fish filled her nose. They were close to the wharf. Another block and the sparkling harbor water greeted them, along with one tall sailing ship and a steamer vying for a place at the long dock. Halfway down, passengers crossed over a slanted gangplank to board a ferry. Along with the people, several buggies were lined up to make the trip.