New York City — February 1766
February did not bring surprise.
That was its danger.
The river lay locked now, ice thick enough along the edges that even the sound of water had dulled beneath it. Men had learned its limits. Boats moved when they could. Wagons moved when they must. Schedules narrowed, margins tightened, and no one expected relief.
The city was no longer improvising.
It was enduring.
Thomas Hawthorne began his days earlier in February, not because there was more to do, but because delay no longer forgave error.
The first report came from Isaac Loring, a senior clerk newly promoted without ceremony.
Barnes's southern shipments are now regular. The Bowery yard requests additional storage space by March.
Thomas marked the margin and passed it on.
Expansion, then — not requested, assumed.
The second came from Jonathan Pike, written from upriver.
Three carriers now moving timber under our mark. Two asked whether work continues after thaw. I said yes.
Thomas did not correct him.
Assumption was cheaper than persuasion.
The third report was quieter, folded into an invoice.
Customs inspection delays increasing. Questions more specific. No seizures. Names copied.
Names again.
Always names.
Business continued regardless.
At Crowell's forge, the third shift added in January had begun training two new apprentices, both hired by a foreman who no longer waited for Thomas's approval. Output did not increase dramatically. Failure rates dropped.
That mattered more.
At Barnes's cooperage, barrels moved south and north now, not as exceptions but as routine. One hoop failed during loading and was discarded without comment — a loss noted, absorbed, and replaced.
Quality held.
The City Watch changed shifts before dawn.
William Hart, watch captain for the Dock Street district, checked names against the posted roll, signed the payment ledger, and dismissed two men whose shift had ended. No one lingered. Coin changed hands. Work resumed.
Across the street, dockworkers unloaded iron bands and hinge stock under the supervision of Edmund Reese, a clerk Thomas had met only once.
Reese logged the delivery, sealed the crate, and moved on.
Authority traveled through paper now, not voices.
Pressure arrived without formality.
A customs officer asked Barnes whether his contracts were "local or coordinated." Barnes replied that they were public, priced, and posted. The officer copied names and left.
A merchant at the Fly Market remarked that it was "convenient" how order clustered around Hawthorne's accounts lately — convenient, and Catholic.
That comment traveled.
It reached Thomas not as accusation, but as texture, carried by Peter Lang, a carrier who disliked instability more than religion.
Thomas thanked him and did not respond.
Instead, he advanced payroll for two workshops by three days.
The effect was immediate.
Conversation returned to hours, tools, and thaw schedules.
Suspicion did not vanish — but it softened.
Captain Henry Talbot arrived near midday, his coat dusted with frost.
"London is uneasy," he said without preamble. "They believe your Watch is becoming permanent."
Thomas handed him the payment ledger.
Talbot scanned the dates. "Weekly. Fixed."
"Yes," Thomas said. "And ending with winter."
Talbot frowned. "They want reassurance."
"They will receive documents," Thomas replied. "Not speeches."
"And if that fails?"
Thomas gestured toward the river. "Then they will wait for spring."
Talbot exhaled. "Distance favors you."
"Winter does," Thomas corrected.
Information thickened as February wore on.
Clerks noted which cargoes faced extra questions.
Carriers mentioned which ports inspectors favored.
Insurers adjusted language quietly.
No single signal alarmed Thomas.
Together, they formed shape.
He acted on one thing only.
He instructed Pike to secure an additional staging yard upriver before thaw, under an existing name, paid in advance.
No explanation given.
The Watch faced its first deliberate provocation late in the month.
An inspection order delayed a shipment of imported cloth without signature or justification. Dockworkers waited in the cold. The merchant protested loudly.
The Watch did nothing.
They stood.
Thomas was informed by Reese, who framed it as a timing issue.
Thomas reviewed the contract and advanced payment to the dockworkers through the merchant's own account, noting the charge clearly.
The shipment cleared by dusk.
No confrontation occurred.
Talbot heard of it the next day and said nothing.
The committee did not meet.
It could not.
It had dissolved.
Its absence now protected everyone involved.
By the end of February, business had grown again — not dramatically, but measurably.
1. Two new foremen operating without Thomas's oversight
2. Expanded river staging capacity
3. Payroll increased without strain
Information arriving earlier, cleaner, quieter
Nothing paused.
Nothing announced itself.
On the final day of the month, Thomas walked the river's edge once more, ice grinding softly against the pilings.
A Watchman nodded as he passed.
A clerk hurried by with papers held tight against the wind.
Order held.
Pressure misfired.
February had asked its questions.
March would demand answers of a different kind.