by Jody Hedlund
She found a crumb of piecrust on the tablecloth, picked it up, and tossed it at him so that it stuck to his suit coat. “Oh, look. You have pie on you too.”
His eyes widened at her audacity.
She couldn’t keep from laughing. Before she realized what he was doing, he’d flicked it back at her onto her skirt. They tossed the crumb at each other, laughing and teasing until it had dwindled to nothing. Finally, at the distant blare of the train whistle, he sat back on his heels and grinned at her. “I guess we have to head back. But first, you really do have a crumb here.” He pointed at her hair next to her cheek.
“I’m not falling for your trick again,” she started, but then stopped suddenly as his fingers grazed her cheek and touched her hair. She sucked in a breath.
His focus for a second was on the so-called crumb as his fingers lightly plucked it from her hair. “There,” he whispered. He didn’t immediately pull away, but instead met her gaze.
She ducked to hide her strange reaction and began packing the lunch into the basket. This time he helped her. She tried to think of something to say, something witty or sarcastic. But her mind was too busy reliving the sensation of his touch to think of anything else.
When everything was stowed in the basket, they strolled to the edge of the orchard. Before she could step out into the open, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Thanks for seeing me again.”
She nodded. “Thanks for making this trip bearable.”
“I’m glad I could help.” His eyes were unexpectedly tender. “I hope you’ll allow me to make the trip bearable again tonight.”
The prospect of spending time with him was growing more appealing with every occasion they were together.
“Maybe,” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant.
“Say yes.” His quiet command was threaded with a plea. He pivoted and at the same time propelled her so she was facing him. “Please.”
The earnestness in his expression was too hard to resist. Did he truly enjoy spending time with her the same way she did with him? She couldn’t understand why anyone—much less a man like him—would be eager to have her company. She was a mouse, and he a lion. What did they possibly have in common?
Whatever the case, she nodded and then broke away. “You can tell me where to meet you and maybe I’ll find you.”
She dipped under a branch laden with apples and stepped out in the open sunshine. The men unloading their wagon at the mill dock were gone, and no one else was around. As she crossed toward the road, she could feel Thornton’s eyes upon her every step, and tingles spread up her spine. She didn’t look back, but she knew he watched her until she disappeared from his sight.
Chapter 11
The Chicago depot reminded Elise of the one in New York City. Even at the late hour, it was a hive of busyness, with trains of all sorts and sizes coming and going, the ground constantly rumbling, the squealing and clattering of their wheels filling the air.
Miss Shaw had already ushered them off the New York & Erie Railroad and directed them to the place where they boarded their new train, the Illinois Central, which would take them south into the heart of Illinois. Workers were stocking the train with coal and water and other supplies, so they still had a couple of hours before departure.
Some of the women were resting in the passenger car while others had gone to explore the city. Even though the air was laden with rain, Elise strolled across the wide-open area outside the depot, hoping to spot the young train worker who might leave clues for where to find Thornton next. She was trying to squelch a growing desperation that perhaps she might miss seeing him.
Yesterday, after their secret meeting in the apple orchard, he’d planned another trail of clues leading to supper in a secluded room of a local restaurant. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed the privacy, but she’d loved every minute of the time together. Today, however, she’d only seen him once when he brought her coffee and pastries. The time had been much too short, the train’s whistle blowing before she was ready to leave him.
She would have said her farewells to him earlier if she’d known they were so close to Chicago and she would be required to switch trains. Now she was worried he might be wondering where she was. In such a big depot, maybe even now he was searching in vain for her. Perhaps he would think she’d been thoughtless for leaving without attempting to see him one last time.
A splatter of rain hit the brim of her hat, another her coat sleeve. As the drops began to fall in rapid succession, Elise darted under the wide eaves of the depot. The coming of night and the darkening clouds cast everything in shadows. She moved closer to the brick building as the sky opened up and released its full fury of pelting rain. A chill seemed to blow in with the rain. She huddled deeper into her coat in an attempt to fend off the gloom.
The pounding of the rain upon the roof overhead drowned out the train noise that had been constant during her travels. Only one or two more days of traveling, Miss Shaw had told them in her usual chirpy manner. They would be disembarking at various towns along the Central Illinois Railroad in smaller groups. She’d assured them their employers would be waiting at the depots and that their new lives would be wonderful.
The stoicism on the faces of the other women had told Elise that, like her, they didn’t believe Miss Shaw. Wonderful wasn’t a word they’d ever used to describe their lives. And she doubted it would be now. The most they could hope for was a steady job, a decent paycheck, and enough spare money to send home to the loved ones they’d left behind.
Elise positioned herself so that she could see the depot door, then crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself for warmth. Maybe by this time tomorrow she’d already be in her new residence. She’d have a new job. The few days of traveling would be far behind her. And so would Thornton.
With a sigh, she watched the depot door as it opened, hoping to see Thornton. Instead a young mother carrying a toddler on one hip and holding the hand of another stepped outside.
“Waiting for me?” A voice near her ear took her by surprise.
She swiveled, unable to contain a swell of relief. “Hi.”
“Hi.” The smile he laid on her was devastating.
“I had to change trains, and I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again before I left.”
His eyes lit with mirth. “So you were waiting.”
“I thought I might hurt your feelings if I left without saying good-bye.” She wasn’t about to let him know how anxious she’d felt at the thought of never seeing him again.
“As a matter of fact, I would have been horribly hurt if you’d gone on without saying good-bye.” His coat was drenched, and water dripped from the brim of his hat. He’d clearly run through the rain. Had he been worried about not having the chance to say good-bye to her too?
“I do have some time before my train leaves,” she said, hoping he’d take her hint that perhaps they could spend one last evening together.
He glanced over his shoulder toward a waiting carriage. “I wish I could gallivant about Chicago with you, but alas, I have too much to do.”
So this was his home? Now the idyllic, carefree days of traveling were giving way to the demands of real life?
“I understand.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Then I guess this is good-bye.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“We’re going our separate ways,” she stated simply.
“Maybe we don’t have to.” His voice softened.
Did he want to continue their friendship? Did he think they could write to each other or somehow maintain a relationship? She started to shake her head, but before she could formulate an argument, he lifted his hand and touched a finger to her lips to silence her.
Even though the darkness was settling in, he was close enough that she could see the warmth and longing in his eyes. When he leaned in closer, she could smell the wet leather of his coat, along with his unique spicy scent.
As much as s
he wanted to stay connected to Thornton, she didn’t see how that was possible. “Thornton,” she whispered against his finger, “I can’t—”
He cut her off by removing his finger and swooping down with his mouth. He moved so quickly and decisively she didn’t have the chance to react. His lips pressed against hers, his desire evident in each tender move, leaving her breathless with wonder and a rising desire of her own. She hesitated only a moment before melding her lips to his, basking in the heat and taste of his mouth.
She swayed against him and began to raise her arms to hold on to him before her knees buckled beneath her. But in that moment, he just as decisively broke away.
He took a step back and sucked in a breath. “What were you saying?”
She couldn’t remember. All she could think about was the kiss, the beauty of it, the sweet pleasure it had uncoiled deep inside.
His lips quirked into a half grin as though he sensed the effect he’d had on her. At a shout from the direction of his waiting carriage, Thornton shifted another step away. “I have to go.”
She wouldn’t mind having him kiss her again. In fact, she was slightly embarrassed to realize she wanted to be in his arms, breathing him in.
“That wasn’t good-bye,” he added, and the rumble in his voice sent a strange ripple through her belly.
She didn’t know how to reply. So she watched wordlessly as he spun away and sprinted the distance to the carriage. The driver swung open the door, and as Thornton stepped up inside, he glanced in her direction one last time.
She doubted he could see her in the shadows, but even so, she lifted her hand in a good-bye wave. Maybe the kiss hadn’t been good-bye for him, but she suddenly realized the chasm that had just opened between them. The truth was they were going separate ways, and he would have a difficult time finding her.
Maybe he didn’t really plan to. Maybe this was his unspoken way of breaking things off between them. Confusion and despair crept in and began to crowd out the delight she’d felt only moments ago. “He’s only a friend,” she whispered to herself.
The instant the words were out, she knew they weren’t true. He wasn’t just a friend like Reinhold. She had to be honest with herself and admit Thornton stirred in her longings she’d never experienced with Reinhold. And the kiss . . . well, even if Reinhold ever did kiss her, she doubted it could compare to Thornton’s. She doubted any man’s ever would.
“Here I thought ye were an innocent.” The woman’s voice behind Elise startled her. She spun to find Fanny O’Leary leaning against the brick depot wall a short distance away.
Elise’s heart plummeted. How long had Fanny been there? Apparently long enough to see Thornton’s kiss.
The woman pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward Elise. Her red hair stood out like a beacon in the fading evening light, tightly wired curls poking out from underneath her headscarf.
Elise steeled herself for the confrontation that had been brewing since the day they’d first met. She might as well get it over with. “Just because you witnessed me kissing someone doesn’t give you the right to jump to conclusions about me.”
“Is that right?” Fanny settled her hands on her slender hips. She turned up her pert, freckled nose and peered at Elise with keen eyes.
Elise stared back, unwilling to let Fanny intimidate her. “I’ll have you know that was the first time I’ve ever been kissed.” Once the words were out, Elise wished she could retract them. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed. Rather, she wanted to cherish the moment, to savor her first kiss as long as she could without someone else stomping out everything that was special about it.
Fanny shrugged. “I could tell.”
“You could? Oh no!” Elise glanced in the direction where Thornton’s carriage had rambled away. If Fanny could tell that was her first kiss, then surely Thornton had been able to as well.
“Don’t worry,” Fanny said. “He liked it well enough. He’ll be back for more as sure as my name is Frances O’Leary.”
This time embarrassment came barreling through Elise, and she ducked her head to hide it. “No, he’s gone. I probably won’t see him ever again.”
Fanny snorted. “You’ll see him again, that’s for sure. Heard him speaking to Miss Shaw about switching yer name to the list of women he’s hired.”
Elise’s head snapped up. “What?”
Fanny’s lips curved into a smirk.
“Women he’s hired? What do you mean?”
“Ye really are just a babe, aren’t ye?” Fanny gave a short laugh.
“I know a lot more than you think.” But she didn’t know what Fanny was talking about. As a matter of fact, she had absolutely no idea.
“Ye don’t know who Thornton Quincy is, do ye now?” Fanny’s features lost all humor.
“I met him when he helped at the mission during—”
“And ye don’t know who his father is either, do ye?”
Only that the man was dying of pleurisy and Thornton’s relationship with him was somewhat strained. Beyond that, Thornton hadn’t spoken much of him.
Fanny shook her head. “Ah, lass, yer in for trouble.”
“I highly doubt who his father is has any bearing—”
“He’s one of the richest men in New York.”
Elise’s pulse stuttered to a halt. One of the richest men? He couldn’t be. Fanny was wrong.
Fanny waved at the trains and railroad tracks beyond the platform, the rain still thundering in a steady downpour. “Miss Shaw said the Quincys own a dozen railroads, if not more. They’ve been involved in developing the land along their railroads, building towns, that sort of thing.”
“No.” The word came out a whisper and contained the horror that was expanding with each passing second. “You have Thornton mixed up with someone else.”
“He’s hired women to come work in one of his new towns in central Illinois.”
That would explain why he was on the train and where he was going.
“His father, Wellington Quincy, is a railroad baron,” Fanny continued. “That’s no secret. His agent hired two o’ my brothers to help build the Illinois Central. Not only did he work them to the bone, he didn’t pay them what he said he would. Whenever anyone got hurt and couldn’t work, his agent fired them faster than a headless chicken and didn’t bother to make sure they had enough money to make it back home.”
Elise felt sick to her stomach. “Maybe Thornton is different.”
Fanny’s features contorted into a dark scowl. “He’s like all the other fancy gentlemen competing with one another for who can bed the most innocent lasses, making them promises, only to toss them aside the minute they’ve deflowered them.” Unexpected pain and anger flashed in the young woman’s eyes.
Was that what had happened to Fanny? Had a handsome, wealthy man paid her attention and compliments? Had he wooed her with picnics and fancy dinners, kissed her sweetly and hinted at promises of being together, all because he wanted to add her to his list of conquests?
Elise shook her head. Surely not Thornton. He was too kind, too sincere, too thoughtful. . . . But what if that had all been an act? What if he’d been trying to win her over so he could have a train-ride fling? After all, what reason did he have for spending time with her? If he was as wealthy as Fanny claimed, then they were worlds apart. What could she offer a man like him? Whatever could a man of his prestige and class see in a poor immigrant woman like her?
Unless Fanny was right . . . unless she was just a dalliance for him, a diversion, a way to pass the time and the miles. Maybe he’d even planned to move from private dining rooms to private hotel rooms.
Her gaze snagged with the young Irishwoman’s. As if reading her thoughts, Fanny nodded. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I figured it would serve Miss High and Mighty just right if she got hurt by a Quincy. But when ye didn’t say anything to Miss Shaw about me—about my real past—I figured I owed ye a favor.”
Elise’s body went rigid, her feet naile
d to the platform, her tongue heavy and dry. How could she have allowed herself to trust someone who’d clearly been well-to-do? Why had she ignored the faint warnings that reminded her of their differences in class? He was a part of the rich, aristocratic echelon she despised, that group who felt they could use up and throw away poor folks like her so long as it benefited their endeavors.
“Thank you,” she finally managed.
Fanny shrugged. “Next time he comes around, ye tell him ye’d rather kiss a horse’s—”
“There won’t be a next time.” Elise moved toward the train with determined steps. “I’ll go tell Miss Shaw right now to take me off Thornton Quincy’s list of hired women.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were ye.”
“I’ll tell her to switch me back to my previous employer.”
“She’d just as soon send ye back to New York than cross Mr. Thornton Quincy. The Children’s Aid Society needs his donations and employment opportunities. She’ll do whatever he asks, even if it requires her to sail to the moon and back.”
Elise stopped, close enough to the edge of the platform eave that the mist from the rain blew lightly into her face. Of course, Fanny was right. Besides, if Miss Shaw suspected she’d fraternized with Mr. Thornton, especially that she’d kissed the man, she’d send her right back to New York City without so much as a good-bye.
“Nay, ye just go ahead and take the job,” Fanny said, leaning back against the brick wall. “And if he comes around ye again, I can teach ye all I know about making his life miserable.”
Elise stared out over the puddles forming in the ruts and between the ties. The pools were murky with the dust and dirt and soot the rain was attempting to clean out of the air. But no matter how much rain came, no matter how much washing happened today, it was only temporary. The soot from the smoke and the swirling dust would coat everything again tomorrow.
Wasn’t that true of her life? Even if Thornton wasn’t the lecherous, conniving man Fanny made him out to be, there was no changing who each of them was. Maybe they could ignore it for a day or two, but in the end, the dust of her poverty and the direness of her life would coat her again. She couldn’t escape it.