Beneath Passion's Skies

by Bobbi Smith

  The train pulled into the depot on schedule, and the passengers disembarked. Sarah and Christopher joined the crowd heading to the shipping office to get their tickets for the final leg of the trip upriver to Kansas City. They were near the back of the group and knew they would have quite a long wait.

  Sarah was nervous. She missed having Angel beside her to buoy her spirits and confidence. Now, though, she was totally on her own, and she was afraid. She kept Christopher next to her and kept a close watch on the crowd. She noticed Steve Spencer behind them, and they exchanged casual greetings as it came their turn to step inside.

  The office was good-sized, but there were still quite a few people in line ahead of her. She’d only been in the room for a minute when she noticed two men lounging to the side, watching her. She could almost feel their eyes upon her, and her fear increased. Were these Michael’s men? She clamped a restraining hand on Christopher’s arm as she fought down panic and the urge to flee. Offering up fervent prayers for Christopher’s safety, Sarah begged God to make the line move faster so they could get away from the men’s scrutiny.

  Sarah wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the two men. Steve saw them, too, as soon as he walked through the door. He knew it would have been physically impossible for the Dillons to get there ahead of him, but there was always the chance that they’d telegraphed relatives in town. Prepared for the worst, hoping for the best, he positioned himself closer to Sarah and Christopher. In another moment, he would put his plan into action. He hoped it worked, because if it didn’t he was going to have a lot of questions to answer to a lot of people.

  The clerk looked up as Sarah and Christopher finally made it up to the desk. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like—” she began, but she never got the chance to finish her sentence because Steve’s deep voice broke in from behind her.

  “My wife and I would like to book passage for ourselves and our son to Kansas City.” Steve slipped a possessive arm about her slender waist and smiled down at the waiting clerk.

  Chapter Nine

  Sarah stiffened at Spencer’s bold touch. She turned on him about to tell him in no uncertain terms to take his hands off of her when again her gaze fell upon the two men across the room. Sarah had never prided herself on being a quick-thinker, that was Angel’s specialty, but today, faced with the threat of the unknown from the strangers watching her, she knew immediately what she had to do. Forcing the irritation out of her expression, she gave the card-player her nicest smile.

  “I still can’t believe we’re almost there, can you, dear?” Sarah managed as her eyes sparkled in answering challenge to Spencer’s daring. “Our trip’s half over.”

  “It seems like hardly any time has passed since we made the decision to do this, and now here we are.” He matched her smile for smile and look for look. “Our next stop is Kansas City.”

  “Mother?” Christopher looked at the two of them in confusion. Only the tightening of Sarah’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying more.

  “Are you getting excited, son?” Steve brought the boy into the conversation.

  “Yeah,” he answered his friend with a grin. “Things just keep getting more exciting all the time.” Christopher didn’t know what Steve was up to, but he thought it a great adventure and willingly played along. He wasn’t sure what his Aunt Sarah was going to have to say about all this once they were alone, but for now he was having fun.

  Steve had been expecting an explosion. He’d expected Sarah Johnson to announce that he was no husband of hers and that he had to be suffering some kind of crazy delusion and wasn’t playing with a full deck. Instead, she’d gone along with his story and even the boy had joined in! Steve didn’t know why, but he was tremendously relieved. Questions and answers would be in order later, but for right now, he would just keep smiling.

  The clerk, busy writing, said, “I’ll need your names, please.”

  Sarah answered calmly. “We’re the Johnsons.”

  “Here you are, sir.” The clerk handed Steve the tickets, accepting payment. “Have a safe trip.”

  “Thank you.”

  The three of them started toward the door. As they passed the two watching, waiting men, Sarah took Steve’s arm, and they exited the office very much the happy family. Steve stopped outside only long enough to make arrangements for their things to be taken to the steamer. Sarah and Christopher stood off to the side.

  “What’s happening?” the boy asked, his eyes alight with mischief and curiosity.

  “Shh,” she cautioned. The two men had moved to the door of the office, still watching them. Sarah had the distinct feeling that they were predators, waiting for the opportunity to close on their prey. It took more courage than she knew she had to face them.

  “Ready?” Steve asked, rejoining their family circle.

  Sarah fell silent as she placed her hand on Steve’s arm and once more walked at his side. She could feel the hardness of the muscles beneath her fingers, and his solidness reassured her. Still, she wasn’t certain whether to thank God for sending him or pray harder for deliverance from him. What did he hope to gain by declaring her his wife and Christopher his son? His demeanor, however, revealed nothing. He looked calm and happy, a picture-perfect family man, as they strolled through the streets. Sarah managed to keep all her churning questions to herself until they were well away from the office. Only then did she let go of his arm and move away.

  “All right, Mr. Spencer, what’s going on? The first time we ever laid eyes on you was on the train coming up here, and yet there in the office you stepped right up and claimed us as your family. Why?” Her dark eyes narrowed as she tried to discern his motive, but Steve’s gambler’s expression gave nothing away.

  “The question goes both ways,” he countered, upping the ante. “Why did you go along with me? You could have kicked up a fuss back there in the office, and yet you didn’t say a word. Why did you stay quiet?”

  Sarah was cornered. This stranger, this Steve Spencer, would give no information without gaining some in return, knowledge she couldn’t reveal. The stakes were too high. She had to brazen her way through.

  “It’s your game, Mr. Spencer. All I’ll tell you is that for right now it suits my purpose to go along with you.”

  “It does?” he repeated. Sarah was not nearly as adept at hiding her thoughts as Steve, and he’d seen the flicker of fear in her gaze before she’d answered him. Was she glad for his protection? That puzzled him. “Have I rescued a damsel in distress?”

  “You might say that,” Sarah responded cryptically, refusing to elaborate and piquing his interest even more.

  They had reached the levee and were starting up the ramp to the steamer. Steve had no chance to ask anything else, interrupted by a steward who greeted them on deck and showed them to their cabin. Steve held the stateroom door for Sarah and Christopher and then followed them inside.

  Hearing the door shut behind her, Sarah was overwhelmingly aware of Steve Spencer, standing close behind her in the small cabin. Although his timely intercession in the shipping office had worked perfectly, she was through with the charade. They were on board the ship. There was no need to continue.

  “Well, Mr. Spencer, it’s certainly been interesting.” She tried to sound dismissive. “And now that we’re all safe—”

  “Yes?”

  “You may go,” Sarah finished, moving boldly back to the door and opening it for him.

  Her actions made Steve wonder even more about her reasons for wanting him with her at the shipping office. Whatever danger she’d perceived to exist before, she now believed gone.

  “You want me to leave?” he asked with a lift of one expressive dark brow.

  “Certainly, Mr. Spencer. You didn’t really expect to stay in the cabin with us, did you?” she asked with a cool composure she did not feel. When he looked at her, she felt as if he could see into her soul, and she didn’t like it. She knew she wasn’t a good actress
. She’d always told the truth—until now.

  “Where else would I go? We’re registered as Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.”

  “I’m sure there must be some place else you can sleep,” Sarah insisted. She glanced at the two beds in such close proximity, flustered. Having him pretend to be her husband while they’d booked passage was one thing. Sleeping in such intimate surroundings with him was something else entirely. And while she was glad that the passenger list with the Johnson family name on it would throw off anyone following them, there was certainly no need for them to continue with the pretense. Steve Spencer was a stranger. He was not her husband!

  “I see.” Steve did not find spending the two nights of travel time on deck an appealing option.

  “If you don’t mind—” Sarah began again more assertively. He was too overpowering this close.

  They were at a stand-off. As Sarah waited for Steve to go, she happened to look outside. She stopped in mid-sentence as the same two men from the steamship office walked by. They glanced at her pointedly, and a hard knot of fear tightened in her stomach. She gripped the doorknob tighter, so no one would see the tremor in her hands. The blush of agitation faded from her cheeks, leaving her suddenly ashen.

  “Perhaps I was wrong, dear. I think I’d rather wait until it’s a bit cooler before we go for a stroll on the deck. Is that all right with you, darling?” she choked, closing the door quickly.

  Steve had seen the two men and automatically tensed, assuming they had found him out. But the Dillons could not have known what he looked like. He was safe. Yet Sarah’s reaction told him something was amiss and—whatever it was—the two men were at the root of it. He felt a surge of protectiveness toward his “family.”

  “What’s going on? Do you know those men?”

  “I have no idea who they are.”

  “Then why do you look so frightened and why the change of heart? You did just call me ‘darling,’ didn’t you?”

  “I was talking to Christopher,” she snapped defensively. She would tell him nothing.

  “In that case, I’ll guess I’ll go ahead and leave.” He started toward the door, calling her bluff.

  Sarah had lost, and she knew it. If Michael’s men thought the family a fake, they would close in on her and Christopher like wolves. In desperation, she blurted out, “No.... wait. Don’t go. You can stay.” But even as she gave in, she questioned her motive—and her sanity.

  “Oh, good!” Christopher exclaimed, eager to enjoy more of Steve’s company and hoping he would teach him how to play cards.

  “You’re sure this time?”

  “You may share the room with us for the duration of the trip.”

  “What about those two men?” He returned to the original subject, probing.

  “Mr. Spencer,” Sarah began in her iciest voice, “I have not pressured you about your actions in the shipping office. I’m sure you had your personal reasons, and I will not attempt to learn what they were. I would appreciate it if you would extend to me the same courtesy. My business shall remain my business. When we reach Kansas City, we will go our separate ways and there will be no need for recriminations on either side. Now, if you can accept things on that level, then you are welcome to remain. Otherwise, sir—” She glanced pointedly at the door.

  “I do believe I will take you up on your most generous offer. Thank you.”

  “Oh, there is one other thing . . .” Sarah was determined not to be beholden to him in any way. She opened her purse and drew out the full amount for their tickets. “Here’s the money for our passage. There is absolutely no reason why you should pay for us.”

  “There’s no need,” he said. He had used her to cover his tracks. He owed her.

  “Mr. Spencer,” she said firmly, “I do not want to be indebted to you when we part company.”

  He saw the determination in her eyes and did not argue. “All right.” He took the currency from her and placed it in his billfold. “Now, there is one thing more we should discuss.”

  “What?” She was instantly cautious.

  “Don’t you think we’ll be more convincing as a married couple if we at least know each other’s names? Let’s start over. Madam, I’m Steve Spencer, a cowboy en route to Kansas City and points west.”

  It irked Sarah to accept a total stranger as her savior, but she had no alternative. “I’m Sarah,” she murmured with little friendliness.

  “This is fun. Can I call you ‘Steve,’ too?” Christopher spoke up once he felt that peace had been made. He looked from his newly-acquired father to his impostor-mother and grinned. “I’m glad you’re going with us. There’s a lot we can do. When do you want to go for that walk on deck? Will you teach me how to play cards later?”

  Sarah heard his excitement and tried to remember the last time he’d been happy. It pleased her that he liked Steve, and she hoped that maybe some good would come out of their predicament after all.

  “You’d better try ‘father’ out for size, Christopher. ‘Steve’s’ not going to work in public,” he told him with a matching grin.

  A knock at the door made Sarah jump; and, seeing her distress, Steve took the initiative. Defensively, he put himself between her and whoever was outside; but when he opened the door, he found only a porter with their luggage.

  “Here you are Mr. Johnson,” the man said, bringing their things inside.

  When he’d gone, Steve locked the door again. He gave Sarah an easy smile as he picked up his bag.

  “I’ll take this bed,” he announced. He set his things at its foot and stretched out upon it himself to test its softness. Folding his arms behind his head, he sighed.

  Sarah stared at him, shocked by his careless demeanor. She’d never been with a man in such intimate surroundings and she wasn’t sure how to act. As jittery as she was, though, Sarah believed it best to hide her nervousness. He thought her a widow, and as such she should be more at ease with men. No matter how embarrassing things became, she had to keep up that pretense.

  “Please make yourself comfortable,” she said graciously, averting her eyes demurely from his lean, muscular form.

  Steve noticed that she was a bit uncomfortable and immediately felt ashamed of himself. Somehow, despite her hideously ugly dress, he’d forgotten that she was a recent widow. Suddenly conscious of the position he’d put her in and feeling a tad guilty over his scheme to use her and the boy to his advantage, he rose from the bed.

  “I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back,” he told her as he started from the stateroom. Then, thinking of the men who might still be waiting outside, he paused to add, “If you need me, I’ll be in the bar.”

  Sarah looked up, her expression proud and independent. “Christopher and I will be just fine.”

  “Well, in any case, lock the door.” Then he was gone.

  Sarah stared after him for only a moment and then followed his advice.

  “How come Steve is pretending to be your husband, Aunt Sarah?” Christopher had been waiting for the chance to ask ever since the surprising scene in the shipping office. “You think it’s because he likes us?”

  His question was so hopeful that Sarah had to agree. “I’m sure that’s it,” she said. “And I have to admit I’m glad he’s willing to help us. Those men at the office looked suspicious, and they did follow us onto the boat.”

  “I know, but Steve’s with us now, so we’ll be all right.”

  “Of course, sweetie. We’re going to be fine.” For now . . . Sarah added in her mind. She managed a smile as she gave him a hug. She wished she could believe as he did that everything would have a happy ending, but the terror of Elizabeth’s death still preyed on her night and day. Her own innocence had been viciously stripped from her; and, adult that she was, there could be no pretending it had never happened.

  If Sarah had met the handsome Steve Spencer a few weeks ago, she might have thought him wonderful. Now, she trusted no man. She was reasonably sure that Steve wasn’t in Michael’s employ. If
he were, they would all be on their way back to Philadelphia by now. No, Steve had his own reasons—or demons—and they had to be important or he would never have saddled himself with a ‘wife and son’ for this trip. She thought again of his expertise with cards. Was he a gambler? He’d certainly taken a chance in the shipping office. Remembering that they’d agreed to respect each other’s privacy, Sarah tried not to dwell on it, but she couldn’t help but wonder at her newly-acquired ‘husband’s’ past.

  Sarah’s gaze accidentally fell upon Steve’s bed, and she felt her cheeks burn at the thought of his sleeping there. To travel this intimately with him was crazy, perhaps immoral. If anyone ever found out, her reputation would be destroyed, but—no matter what the cost to her personally—she would do whatever was necessary to protect Christopher.

  Steve passed a few hours in the bar, having some drinks and watching the gambling. Several men he knew by reputation were working the tables, and he was hard put not to join in, rankled by the low profile he had to maintain. To those on board he was a family man. He was no longer Steve Spencer; he was Steve Johnson.

  Steve stayed away from the cabin as long as he could to give Sarah time alone, but when dusk began to fall and the dinner hour neared, he went back to get them. He knocked once on the door, then tried the knob. He was pleased when he found that she’d locked it as he’d asked her to.

  “Sarah, it’s Steve.” He knocked lightly again.

  Christopher opened for him. “Better be quiet. Mother’s still asleep,” he advised in a low voice.

  “She was tired?” he asked as he entered, glancing over to where she lay sleeping. His gaze traced the sweet curve of her cheek and the delicate line of her throat and then drifted lower to the swell of her breasts. Again he was struck by her delicate beauty. If it hadn’t been for her mourning dress, she could have passed for a virginal princess in an age-old fairy tale. It took an effort to look away.