Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Hysterical

The next morning Will woke up early, slowly inching out of bed so as not to disturb Ana. She mumbled slightly at his loss, but grabbed a pillow to replace him. He drew on a robe, softly closed the door and made for the lobby. Given the weather there weren't many guests, which meant that he could grab the manager's attention quickly. The man gave him a slight bow. "Mr. Murdoch, I hope you're having a good morning."

"It will be if you can arrange for a large breakfast for us." Will rubbed his arms, the hotel was certainly cold away from the radiators. "Eggs, bacon, toast, practically anything you can bring."

The manager furrowed his brow. "I'll see what I can arrange, we haven't had any trains from the country in lately so our food supplies aren't the best."

"Whatever you can." He knew Ana would have preferred a whole tableful of food, but she would eat anything they brought. He'd see to that. "I don't suppose you know of anything entertaining to do here?"

"Most of the town is shut down." The manager pointed to the windows though. "Although some of our other guests are going to walk down to the beached ship later today, and I could rent you and your missus a camera to take pictures of it."

Will nodded, Ana needed to exercise. It would help with her recovery. "That would be good, thank you." Will left him in the lobby, returning to the room. The fire had burned down to coals and he quickly brought it back to life. As much as he would have liked to burn the newspapers for kindling, he left them alone. Once it was burning merrily, he turned back to the pile of papers he had left in a chair last night.

He needed to know what had happened.

He started with the oldest ones first, the initial confusion far too familiar. The storm had come in with a fury that hadn't been anticipated, at least it appeared that way at first. There were quotes from the weather bureau saying that they had run up all the signals for a hurricane, and had been ignored. Captains that had been able to make it in tried to explain themselves, saying that their predictions were always wrong. Then the reporters had feasted, reporting wreckage and bodies washing up in both American and Canada. Speculation was made about exactly who was to blame for all of it, and the families of the men lost were quick to blame the shipping companies. It was all the greedy owners who had pushed for their men to go out for one last run and killed them.

Will flinched as he read that, because he knew at least one owner didn't push for it. He glanced over to the bed, seeing Ana still curled up on her side. He pursed his lips, there was nothing he wanted to do more than ask her about what had happened in New York after he had left. It was odd to have no callers, for none of her friends or even acquaintances to come over. But Ana was delicate right now, yesterday had shown him that.

He looked back to the pile of papers, switching over to the written reports. There were on Dalian letterhead, and it seemed Ana had requested copies of every bit of information they had on the lost ship. Cargo records dating back five years, plans from when she had been built and a crew manifest. Will read through it, cursing as he did. Thirty men, and the youngest only nineteen, little more than a boy, all lost.

"Will?" Ana's voice was sleepy, but she sounded better. "What are you doing?"

He stood, coming to sit beside her. "Reading, but it's a good thing you're up. Breakfast should be here soon."

"Mmmm," She sat up a bit at that, but looked to the table. "You were reading the papers?"

"Yes," He slipped his arm around her. "I didn't want to make you tell me anything after yesterday." He felt her lean into him. "I don't suppose you want to keep them?"

"No."

"Then let's get rid of them." Will helped her to her feet, and they spent a pleasant time feeding the papers into the fire. The thin newspaper went up quick, the black ink illegible as the paper crisped and curled in the heat. Ana saved back the Dalian papers though, and he tucked them away in a drawer. He'd return them to the offices later, she didn't need to go back there. A knock sent her scurrying to the bathroom though, and breakfast was quickly brought in. Despite the manager's concerns an adequate spread had been managed; eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, a pot of coffee and a bottle of milk. The bellboy handed over the rented camera as well, quickly giving instructions on how to use it.