Concern for Miss Barlow’s safety shoved its way into Rhyan’s consciousness. All sorts of riff-raff traveled west on the Union-Pacific—gamblers, drummers, outlaws. And he’d bet she didn’t even have a derringer in that little reticule tied to her wrist.
“Are you traveling alone, Miss Barlow?” An unchaperoned woman attracted varmints like nectar attracted wasps. And when the woman was as young and pretty…and as well-to-do as she obviously was—
“I am alone, but Mr. Houser, the conductor, has kept a fatherly eye on me.”
Since Rhyan traveled the line often, he knew the conductor. “Houser’s a good man, but he’ll be busy, and it gets worse the farther west you go.”
“I’ll remember.” Her smile stretched wide enough to flash her pearly teeth. “Thank you for showing me the town…and…for rescuing me.”
“Rescuing? Oh, you mean from Welford.” He laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than take credit for rescuing you, Miss Barlow, but the truth is, you were never in any real danger.”
She glanced down at the watch pinned to the inside of her jacket lapel. Long, dark lashes cut crescents across her cheeks, then flew up and those gold flecked hazel eyes looked straight at him.
They stared at each other as people rushed by on either side to board the hissing train. Reasons to make her stay marched through his mind, quickly discarded like the foolish thoughts they were.
Nothing was left to be said except good-bye. “Safe travels, Miss Barlow, and good luck with your culture center. I think we both know Westerfield won’t fit your plans, but perhaps we’ll meet again.” He doubted it.
The curled feather in her hat dipped as she tilted her head. “Thank you, Mr. Cason, perhaps we will. I’ll be praying you catch the one who’s menacing you before…anyone gets hurt.”
He touched the brim of his hat and walked away. An urge to turn around hit him, but he resisted. Giving a backward look to a woman always brought trouble, and he had enough trouble waiting for him down the street.
About the Author
Elaine Manders writes about the strong, capable women of history and the men who love them.
She lives in Central Georgia. When not writing, she enjoys reading, sewing, and crafts. Y0u may contact the author at any of the following.
Facebook: https://wwww.facebook.com/elaine.manders.35
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ehmanders
Blog: https://elainemanders.wordpress.com
Email: [email protected]
The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0) Page 34