Riding the Rails

by Amelia C. Adams

  Once the book had come to an end, Mercy closed her eyes for another nap, smiling when Heston nudged her head onto his shoulder. He truly had become the best friend she’d always dreamed of having.

  She’d thought she was exhausted, and she was, but she didn’t fall asleep immediately. Instead, she thought back over everything that had happened in the last week, every step she’d taken that had led her to that point, and how it seemed that she’d been guided to where she was now.

  “Mother?” she whispered, knowing Heston wouldn’t be able to hear her over the noise of the train. She didn’t want to disturb any rest he was getting, and she also didn’t want him to think strange things about her, hearing her speak to her dead mother. Maybe it was her mother who had led her here—she didn’t know. What she was convinced of, however, was that Heston had been right by her side ever since, and he was still right there, now letting her use his shoulder as a pillow.

  Granted, it was a hard and bony pillow, but it was a pillow nonetheless, and she closed her eyes, feeling utterly and completely safe.

  ***

  “Oh, sweet girl.”

  Heston opened his eyes and saw that Mrs. Maine had taken the seat across from them. She sat demurely, her hands folded on her lap, and she gazed at Mercy’s sleeping face with a tender expression.

  “You’re still the only one who can see me, so don’t say anything too outrageous, all right?” She turned her attention to him and smiled. “Heston Granger, the time has come for me to go. It’s been my utmost pleasure to meet you, and I wish you all the best things in life from here on out.”

  “You’re leaving?” Heston said softly.

  “I am. And you’re not to worry about me—my trainer understood when I explained everything. I will be on probation for a little while, working with a more experienced angel, but I’m being given a second chance.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Mercy stirred a little, but settled back to sleep.

  “You should stop talking now. Just nod or shake your head if you want to say something.” Mrs. Maine looked at Mercy again. “It’s such a relief to know that she’ll be happy. I’ve worried about her so much. Not only has she been my first official assignment, but I requested her—I watched over her mother during my training phase, and while we weren’t able to save her from her difficulties, I feel as though I’ve been able to right a few wrongs with Mercy. Take care of her, Heston. And both of you be blessed.”

  “Take care of her? But she’s leaving . . .” Heston’s reply was spoken to thin air, as Mrs. Maine simply wasn’t there anymore.

  Mercy stirred again. “Hmm? Are we there?”

  “Not yet. Go back to sleep.”

  She did, leaving him to think. Not that his thoughts made a great deal of sense, but when one was trying to reason out the advice of a guardian angel, well, it stood to reason that it wouldn’t always make sense. He was glad to know that Mrs. Maine hadn’t lost her angel status. She was the most forgetful woman he’d ever met, and possibly one of the most conniving, but she’d tried her very best, and he knew her heart was in the right place. Without her interference, he never would have met Mercy, and regardless of how things turned out between them, he would always be grateful for that meeting.

  There was one other thing he knew—he wasn’t going to leave Mercy in Denver without telling her how he felt. He wanted to support her dreams and he wanted to give her freedom, but he loved her, and if he walked away before she knew that, he would be a coward of the worst sort.

  ***

  The train pulled into the station in Denver, and Mercy’s heart was beating so fast, she thought it would climb out of her throat. Her knees were trembling, and she decided to stay seated for a moment and let the other passengers off first. That would give her time to gather her courage. Heston watched her curiously as everyone else got off.

  “It’s just us now,” he said. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No, of course not.” As soon as she said the words, though, her chest grew tight, and everything she’d been thinking and feeling and even dreaming out all day came rushing into her mind at once. “When we get off this train, everything’s going to change, isn’t it? You’ll still be with me, but we’ll be looking for a place to live and for a job, and then you’ll be going back to Creede. This friendship we have, this relationship—it’s never going to be the same.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “This is where we begin saying our goodbyes.”

  “But I don’t want to say goodbye.” The words burst out of her before she could stop them. “I don’t want this to be over.”

  “Neither do I, but I don’t want to stand in the way of your dreams.”

  She looked out the window, at the lights she could see beyond the train station, and she knew the city lay just beyond those buildings. Everything she’d imagined, everything she’d longed for . . .

  Just as he said, “Mercy,” she said, “What if those aren’t my dreams anymore?”

  Heston’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . Yes, I want a job and to earn my own keep, and I want my own place to live, but what if I could do all that in Creede? What if I could have everything I wanted, but I didn’t have to say goodbye to you?”

  Heston swallowed hard. “Really?” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “You’d come back with me—you’d give everything up?”

  She lifted a finger. “That’s the miracle of it. I can have everything I’ve ever wanted, just in a different place, and I can still have you.” Oh, gracious. Had she really said that? Heat flooded her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to be so forward. That . . . that was just awkward, wasn’t it?”

  He laughed, reaching out to catch her hand. “Not at all. I love you, Mercy Davis, and not only do I want you to have all your hopes and dreams and aspirations, but I want you to have me too. I’ve just been figuring out the best way to say it, a way that would leave the choice entirely to you—you just happened to beat me to it.” He slid down onto one knee there in the aisle of the train. “Will you come back to Creede with me? Will you marry me, Mercy?”

  She blinked rapidly as tears filled her eyes. “Yes. Oh, yes, I will.”

  He leaned forward and tugged her into his arms, and she felt his familiar warmth surround her as he brought her in for a kiss. How could she ever think that Denver could compete with the happiness and the acceptance she’d found with him?

  “I do want to ask one question, though,” she said when they pulled apart. “Can we at least look around Denver for a day? Just so I can see what I’m missing?”

  He laughed. “Absolutely. A whole day of sightseeing tomorrow, coming up. And then?”

  “And then let’s go home. To Creede. Where I can have everything I’ve ever wanted, plus some things I didn’t know I could have.”

  They stood up and gathered their things. When Mercy picked up her reticule, she heard a familiar sound and reached inside to find the pouch. Hmmm—just enough money for a return ticket to Creede. Very interesting indeed.

  Epilogue

  Mrs. Olson smiled as she moved around the guest bedroom where Mercy had stayed. What a sweet girl, and how wonderful it had been to give her a hand up. Some guests came and went and didn’t leave much of an impression. Others left a decidedly sour residue in their wake, and some . . . well, some left behind precious memories and echoes of laughter. That’s what Mercy had done.

  She pulled the sheets from the bed and replaced them, then rearranged all the pillows and plumped them up so they would look soft and inviting for the next guest. She carried the linens into the hall and put them in the basket there, then entered her own room. She spent so much time on the other areas of the house that she often had to let hers go, but clean sheets were something she insisted on, so she included her room in the rotation even if the dust did sometimes build up in there.

  She threw back the cur
tains and turned toward the bed, then noticed an odd little pouch sitting on her nightstand. She had no idea where it had come from—she’d never seen anything like it.

  She loosened the drawstring and found a note inside the bag, along with some money. What? Who could have left this here, and why?

  For Mercy’s expenses, the note read. Followed by, Your kindness has been noticed, and your good heart will not go unrewarded.

  How curious. She poured the money into her hand. It was far more than she’d planned to charge Heston for Mercy’s care—in fact, she’d been thinking about refusing payment of any kind. She couldn’t deny, though, that this sum would help her out quite a bit. She’d been living lean for a while as she tried to figure out her life with her husband gone.

  What did that mean, her good heart would not go unrewarded? The money was most welcome, but she sensed that wasn’t what the note meant. It seemed to indicate something deeper, something she couldn’t explain. Odd. She also sensed that it wasn’t from Heston. The writing was feminine, and she didn’t see how he’d be able to afford to give her so much—not to mention how he could have delivered it to her bedroom, which was at the back of the house and not easily accessible.

  Never mind. She’d accept this blessing and be grateful for it, and most of all, be grateful for the chance she’d been given to do some good in someone else’s life. What true joy.

  She smiled, thinking about Heston and Mercy. She wished true joy for both of them as well—and somehow, she had a suspicion that she hadn’t seen the last of Mercy in the town of Creede.

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  About Amelia C. Adams

  Amelia traces her family tree right back to the settlement of the Old West—her great-great-grandmother even drove a wagon to her new home. Amelia is a wife, a mother, and a novelist. She spends her days dreaming up stories and her nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you might just see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels. She loves all things historical and enjoys learning about days gone by, but she's glad she was born in modern times because the Internet is awesome, and she's glad she doesn't have to wash her clothes by hand in a galvanized tub. She’s an eater of tacos, a taker of naps, and a dreamer of dreams.

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