September Sky (American Journey Book 1) by John A. Heldt

patron. I'm giving him a tour of the place."
    "It's a pleasure," Rose said. "I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Townsend. I was pulling some old reports and couldn't help but listen in. It's a bad habit of mine."
    Chuck laughed.
    "That's all right. I do it all the time. Eavesdropping is a tool of the trade in journalism."
    "You're a journalist?"
    "I'm a newspaper reporter – or at least I used to be. My son and I came to Galveston to do research for a book about shipping," Chuck said. He pointed toward the window. "That's Justin over there."
    Rose and Justin exchanged waves.
    "Where are y'all from?" Rose asked.
    "California."
    "California? Oh, goodness gracious! I went to San Francisco a few years ago with my brother George. It's the prettiest place on the planet, if you ask me."
    Chuck smiled.
    "I like it too."
    Chuck took a close look at the effervescent redhead and laughed to himself. He didn't know if the Texas Maritime Library had the best and most when it came to materials on shipping, but it certainly had cornered the market on pretty, knowledgeable librarians. He wondered if the hiring committee consisted of cigar-chomping, whiskey-drinking men.
    "So you're the go-to gal on Galveston?" Chuck asked.
    "I should hope so," Rose said with a deep Texas twang. "I was born here, grew up here, and will probably die here unless I find my millionaire and run off to Paris. I can tell you everything you want to know about this town and a few things you don't want to know."
    Chuck glanced at Charlotte and saw her try to contain a smile. He could only imagine what it was like to manage Rose O'Malley.
    "It sounds like we need to talk," Chuck said.
    "Are you planning to stay in town for a while?" Rose asked.
    "We are. We'll be here at least a couple of weeks."
    "That's good. I've got my hands full with these reports. Let's plan to meet next week. I'll have all the time in the world then to chew the fat."
    "Sounds like a plan," Chuck said.
    "I'd better go," Rose said. "It was nice meeting you."
    "You too."
    Chuck watched Rose as she grabbed two books off a table and walked toward a door bearing a STAFF ONLY sign. When she disappeared, he returned his eyes to Charlotte.
    "I think I'm going to enjoy talking to her."
    "I'm sure you will. Rose is a font of information," Charlotte said. "She can tell you things you won't find in any of these books."
    Chuck laughed.
    "I'll bet she can."
     
    Charlotte resumed the tour a few minutes later. She showed the Townsends the map collection, a room featuring replicas of merchant ships, and a small museum dedicated to the naval heroes of Texas. When she was finished, she led the visitors into a gallery filled with framed photographs of virtually every kind of vessel afloat.
    Chuck found all of it fascinating. He wondered why he had never heard of the library until arriving in Galveston. Then he remembered something he had read in one of the articles. The hurricane had destroyed nearly every building on the waterfront, including this very facility.
    He walked to the longest wall in the gallery and examined dozens of photographs. He saw pictures of everything from dinghies to ironclad warships. Most of the photos had been taken in the past thirty years. Nearly all were mesmerizing.
    Chuck glanced at Justin and saw that his interest in the photos was just as keen. He closely examined pictures of clippers, men-o'-war, privateers, and other ships that had all but disappeared when sailors had turned to steam.
    Chuck studied his son for a moment and then shifted his attention to his tour guide, the beautiful woman with the unadorned left hand. He wanted to see her again and see her in a social setting. If doing so broke one of Professor Geoffrey Bell's rules of time-travel etiquette, then so be it. He wouldn't walk through 1900 on eggshells.
    Deciding to rekindle the conversation with the library director who had left the Townsends to enjoy the photos on their own, Chuck walked toward a corner of the room.