“We’re here,” Matt said. He stood and stretched his arms overhead. “Harmony?” His puzzled voice repeated her name. “Harmony?”
He bent down and gave her shoulder a shake. Her eyes fluttered in a small response. Merciful God. Her lips were blue and her breath was so light it felt like butterfly wings. She couldn’t breathe. For a Chicago girl, they were simply too far above the level of the sea. She’d grown accustomed to the air in Denver, but the train had climbed steadily throughout the day. It had to be that damn corset. The woman could hardly catch a free breath on a good day, but at this altitude it was impossible.
He pulled her face down across his legs, and tugged the jacket over her hips and pushed it to her shoulder blades. The back of the pink blouse followed. He scowled at the corset digging its deep furrows into her pale flesh. Pulling a knife from his boot, he set it under the lowest string and began cutting his way up her back.
“Everything all right?” Jeb Wilson and his wife Nan peered over the seat.
“She couldn’t breathe,” Nan nodded. “I wondered how she could stand it.”
Harmony shifted in his lap and her shoulder blades expanded as she took a breath. The bones up her back were as delicate as a bird’s. Matt’s eyes narrowed as he studied the long red gouges on the side of her body. He pulled her jacket back in place and waited for her to regain full consciousness.
“Oh, my. Oh, my,” Harmony spluttered. She pushed against his thighs with both hands. “I’m sorry, Matt. Whatever happened?”
“You couldn’t breathe. I cut your corset,” Matt replied.
Her hands flew to her sides as she grabbed at the fabric of her jacket. “Grandmama would be most displeased,” she gasped.
“Well, Grandmama isn’t here,” Matt’s voice was tight with thunder. “I am. Oxygen is thin in the Rockies. Breathing comes first. No more corsets.”
“But…” she began.
“If you insist on wearing one, I will lace it, and lace it loose,” he growled. He scooped her into his arms and carried her through the biting cold into the station house. After a warm supper of stew and fresh bread, the men shared a glass of whisky and the women prepared for bed. Matt had Harmony take a cot near the wall, and he settled into the one beside her.
Matt woke the next morning to find a pair of blue eyes focused on his whisker covered face. He ran a hand over the scratchy surface and rubbed at his sleepy eyes.
“Morning, Harmony,” he said.
“I need to get into my trunks,” Harmony whispered. “You ruined my corset.”
“All right. I’ll help you. I need to use the outhouse, then I’ll meet you at the train.” He stood and stretched.
Harmony’s face blazed red. “I need it too.” She threw her cloak over her shoulders and tied a bow at the neck.
“Let’s go.” Matt led the way around to the back of the station and stood away from the building until Harmony emerged before taking his own turn.
“I don’t have appropriate clothes for this trip,” Harmony admitted. “I do have a looser dress and a heavier pair of shoes.”
“Well, that would be a good start. Let’s dig ’em out.” Matt opened the large door to the freight car and jumped in. He extended a hand to Harmony and pulled her up. “Which trunk?” he asked.
Harmony retrieved her items and bundled them in her arms. “Nan said she would help with the laces,” she murmured.
“I understand,” he said. “The darn thing might even help keep you warm, but I won’t have you passing out from lack of oxygen. Lace it loose, understand?”
Matt paced outside the station house while Harmony changed. When she appeared in a dress that skimmed her body but did not restrict it and a better pair of boots, he let the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding escape in a long whoosh. She threw a heavy cape around her shoulders and tied a bow at the neck. Well, it was the best they could do.
“All aboard,” the engineer shouted.
Matt lifted Harmony into the car. They sat side by side close to the stove once more, but some of the distance between them had disappeared. He reached over and squeezed her hand. When Harmony curled her fingers around his, Matt’s chest expanded as far as mile-high air allowed.
“Here come the Rockies, Harmony. Up and over, darlin’. Up and over.”
Chapter 3
The train puffed and chugged up the incline of the mountains leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. They’d labored up steep slopes, coasted around bends, and disappeared into dark tunnels, but the train clinging to the side of the mountain like a caterpillar to a leaf brought the squeeze of panic to her chest.
The track was carved into the side of the mountain and wide enough only for the train. On the inside the train skimmed the face of the mountain. On the outside was a sheer drop into empty space. If the train went off the tracks, they would disappear into that abyss. She burrowed her head into Matt’s shoulder and clutched his hand.
“Switch places with me,” Matt said. He stood so she could slide away from that devastating plunge. When she was on the mountain side, he turned his shoulders so they filled the window and blocked Harmony’s view of empty air.
“Better?” he asked.
She jerked her head in a nervous nod. “Thank you.”
“Just you wait,” Matt began, “pretty soon we’ll be in the prettiest little valley you ever did see. Now, darlin’, all you have to do is breathe. Say, you never did tell me how your ma and pa met each other.”
Harmony smiled through stiff lips. He was trying to distract her from that terrible tumble she knew was outside the window, and she appreciated his effort.
“Grandmama said my father came to town on business and took her only daughter away with him when he left. She’d raised my mother to be a Chicago socialite and her running off with an Oregon rancher was not in her plan. I suppose I was her second chance to fulfill that dream. She was very strict. Even had my husband chosen,” Harmony confided.
“She did?” Matt’s eyebrows shot up under his long hair.
“Jerome. His grandmother and mine had it planned, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had this sense there was something I didn’t know, and, as it turns out, there was. Anyway, I didn’t love him. I didn’t want to marry him, but I didn’t know what else I could do until Melody’s letter arrived. My grandmama died disappointed.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I forgive her for wanting what she thought was best even if I didn’t agree. She thought she was doing the right thing, but I can’t forgive her for keeping my sister and father from me.”
The train chugged slowly forward, creeping, feeling its way.
“Are we in the valley yet?” Harmony asked.
“Almost there,” Matt squeezed her hand. That little pressure was a help, and she squeezed back.
“Sorry to be such a coward.” Harmony peered at the man through lowered lashes. He seemed as immovable and as solid as the mountain at her back.
“Coward? Why, you’re braver than those two guards. They took a lantern and went into the freight car to play cards and drink whiskey. They couldn’t bear to look.” His laugh was smoother than any whiskey in the world, and Harmony let it flow down her body. “This is the hardest stretch,” he assured her. “When we get done with it, we can have dinner.”
They traveled on in silence, but their hands were communicating all along the way. A squeeze, a pat, a thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Those hands didn’t speak a word, but much was said just the same.
Matt swiveled for a look out the window. “We made it through the pass,” he called. “Jeb, Nan, Harmony, look. We’ve reached the valley.” He waved them over to see.
Their traveling companions rushed to the window and stared at the new vista. The mountains still rose tall, looming, dark, and covered deep in snow, but the drop into nothingness had been replaced by a gentle slope. It would have been a children’s sledding delight if it weren’t smack dab in the middle of the biggest mountain range in North America.
“Thank the Lord,” Nan said. “I was never so nervous in my life. I’m never doing that again.” She poked her husband’s arm. “Never,” she repeated.
“We won’t,” Jeb promised. “We’re in the west now, Nan. I like it here already.” He pulled her in for a kiss. “I heard talk of dinner.” He rubbed his belly. “I’m powerful hungry.”
“Let’s set it out and have a picnic. It’ll be a party to celebrate getting through the worst part,” Harmony suggested.
The women laid a cloth over two empty seats. They cut some bread, peeled boiled eggs and sliced a pair of apples. Nan had some cookies wrapped in a napkin that promised to be a fine dessert. Matt added his bag of hard candy.
“Come and get it,” Nan called.
Jeb laid a piece of apple on a slice of bread and took an enormous bite. “Food always tastes better when you’re hungry,” he stated.
“Amen to that.” Matt popped an entire egg in his mouth, chewed and repeatedly swallowed.
Harmony laughed at his antics. She took a dainty bite from her slice of bread and dabbed her lips with a napkin.
A sound, violent and abrasive, shook the air. Matt stopped mid-chew and cocked an ear to the disturbance. Standing and moving to the window facing the mountain, he stood still as a deer in a hunter’s sight.
“Avalanche,” he shouted. “Brace yourselves. We’re going to roll.”
“What do you mean, avalanche? Jeb, what does he mean?” Nan screamed.
“Nan, come here. Get down behind the seat.” Jeb grabbed at his wife’s arm.
Matt pushed Harmony down into the space between their seats. When she tried to stand, he laid a burning swat on her behind.
“Don’t move,” Matt growled. “Jeb, get your wife down,” he called at the man trying to pull his woman behind the seat across the aisle.
The snow became a living thing. It roared. It snarled. It bellowed as it swept down the mountain gaining speed in every passing second. It was a monster dressed in white and fomenting destruction.
Harmony huddled on the floor. She didn’t know if it was his command, the swat, or tremors of fear racing like lightning through her body, but she could not move. She was frozen in place, paralyzed.
The light from the window blinked out when Matt lowered his body over hers, braced his shoulders and legs against the seats ahead and behind and cocooned her body with his own.
Harmony knew only a minute or so had passed since Matt yelled avalanche, but the drama rolled on and on inside the car. Jeb yelled. Nan flailed in her panic. Matt braced himself above and around her.
The advancing snow hit the car with a force that made breathing a luxury, and they rolled and rolled and rolled pushed by the power of white weight. Time snapped back into focus, and she felt each second tick in the pulsing of her blood. She bounced between being plastered to Matt’s body and dropping away with a sickening lurch, but his arm kept her tethered to him. Screams echoed. Objects bounced from ceiling to floor and back again. Something hard and hot hit them, and Matt knocked it away with his foot.
The train stopped rolling and began to slide. Harmony inhaled, exhaled, inhaled. Panic, destructive and disturbing, clutched at her heart. How far would they slide? Was there another precipice ahead and they would slip over into an endless abyss? She struggled against Matt’s grip.
“Hold still.” His voice was moist against her ear.
She gave another wiggle toward freedom.
“Hold still or, so help me God, I’ll paddle you into next Sunday when we get out of here.” Matt’s warning took root.
“We’re getting out of here?” she asked. Her voice quivered like a plucked violin string.
“Of course we are,” he reassured.
The train jolted to a final stop, and Matt relaxed the pressure he’d exerted with arms and legs to hold them immobile while they rolled. He stood and shook his limbs one at a time.
“You all right?” Matt asked Harmony. She lay huddled on the floor, but a heady mix of adrenaline and relief coursed through her veins.
“My leg hurts. Something hit it, but, other than that, I’m fine.” She rose to her knees, and Matt helped her stand.
“It was the little stove. It broke loose, and I kicked it away. Not soon enough, I reckon,” he said.
“Jeb,” Nan’s voice coaxed.
“Jeb,” her voice demanded.
“Jeb,” Nan shrieked. A second shriek became a wail. “Jeb, wake up. Wake up, Jeb.” Nan’s voice headed toward hysteria. Quiet keening gathered strength until it became a primal scream pierced with grief. “Jeb, wake up. Wake up.”
“Let me see, Nan.” Matthew knelt beside her. He laid his hand against Jeb’s throat where a pulse should beat. Nothing. “He’s gone, Nan. He hit his head. The back of his head is bashed in. I’m sorry.”
Harmony moved to Nan’s side and glanced at the motionless Jeb. His head lay in a pool of spreading blood. Jeb’s open eyes stared into nothing. Matt ran his hand down the dead man’s face and shuttered them.
Harmony pulled Nan to her feet and encircled her with a comforting arm. The two women sank into sorrow.
“What should we do, Matt?” Harmony asked.
“I’m going to check the other cars.” He peered out the window. “The engine is buried. They’ve suffocated by now.” He flinched. “The freight car is upside down, but still hooked to us. I hope the two guards survived. They didn’t have much to hang onto and all that luggage flying about would be deadly.” Matt moved to the other side of the train and bent to look out the side facing the mountain. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered. “There’s two men headed this way. Makes no sense. Where’d they come from?” he wondered.
Nan jumped to her feet like she’d been shot from a cannon and ran for the door.
“Wait, Nan,” Matt hissed. “We don’t know who they are. Could be trouble,” he warned as he grabbed for her skirt and missed.
Nan was out the door before another second passed. “Help,” she screamed. “My husband’s injured. Help me, please.”
Matt and Harmony watched as the grieving woman thrashed through the snow. She lifted her sodden skirts and struggled on.
“Help. My husband’s hurt. Please.” She held an imploring hand toward the two strangers.
The men stopped and observed the woman as she wrestled with the snow. The taller of the two removed a pistol from the pocket of his coat, aimed at Nan, and fired. A bloom of blood spread across Nan’s chest. She covered the ever-increasing stain of blood with her hand, dropped her mouth into a little O, before falling, face-down, into the snow.
“Now why’d you go and do that for, Jim?” A short fella with whiskers covering his chest whined.
“You know we can’t have no witnesses,” the shooter replied.
“Well, you could have killed her in a while. I ain’t had no women for such a spell. I don’t hardly remember how long. I wanted to use her first,” he complained.
Jim gestured at the body with his revolver. “So, use her.”
“No, I don’t want no truck with a dead woman,” he scowled. “The fight they put up is half the fun.”
“Maybe there’s a live one on the train, Hector.” The man waved his gun at the car. “That’s a real good idea. I hadn’t thought about women being on the train. If there is one, I’ll let you go first just cuz you thought of it.” The two headed toward the train.
“We’re going to play dead, Harmony,” Matt said.
Harmony nodded but stood frozen in fear.
Matt lifted her from her feet and laid her on her stomach. He draped his body over hers until only the side of her face was visible allowing her to breathe.
“Play dead, Harmony,” he whispered.
His big body relaxed over her. His weight pressed her into the cold, wet floor. She was gathering a complaint when he hissed in her ear, “Dead.”
Boots clattered up the steps to the car. The two men entered and paused to look around.
“Jim, look there.”
He pointed at Jeb’s body. “Must be that husband she was squawking about.”
“Not many people on the train. It’s just like we planned.” He moved down the aisle. “Hector, come here. I found another woman.”
They bent over Matt’s protective body and stared at Harmony. One of them moved a strand of hair off her face with a dirty finger. Harmony felt her gorge rise up her throat. She wanted to wipe all trace of that disgusting finger from her face. She struggled to stay still. The facts that Matt held her down with his heavy body, Nan lay dead in the snow outside the car, and they would kill Matt and rape her, drove her to maintain her feigned death.
“Damn. She’s dead,” he said. “That’s a damn shame. She’s right purty.”
“Lemme see, Hector.” He pushed his friend aside, pulled a booted foot back and let it fly. It landed with a sickening thump in Matt’s left hip. He kicked him again in the thigh. “They’re dead. He’d a squealed otherwise. Come on. Let’s get what we came for and get out of here. It’s gonna take the Union Pacific a while to come investigate, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
The men left the car and headed for the freight wagon.
Matt lifted some of his weight off Harmony. “Don’t move yet,” he whispered.
They lay on the floor and waited. A single shot rang out, and Matt cursed into her ear.
“Damn, this box is heavy,” one of the men said.
“More gold for us,” his partner in crime responded.
Matt and Harmony waited until footsteps and voices faded into the distance.
“Stay quiet,” Matt warned. He moved with caution across the car and raised his eyes above the ledge. “They’re gone.” He rubbed at the spots where the vicious kicks had landed.
“He kicked you pretty hard, Matt,” Harmony said, “are you all right?”
“Better than I’d be if I’d given us away and that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced.
Harmony took Matt’s outstretched hand, and he helped her to her feet.
“Oh,” Harmony cried. “My leg hurts. Ever since I broke it when I was a girl, it’s delicate.” She took a tentative step. “It’s not broken.”
Harmony (Journey's End Book 3) Page 3