The Timeless Love Romance Collection

by Dianne Christner

  The train would be leaving in just thirty minutes. Olivia decided to slip the photo to one of the waitresses to return. After all, about ten Harvey Girls were standing at the door and watching the exchange. Even Constance, promoted to head waitress, stood waiting to say good-bye.

  Leaning against the wall across from her door was Mr. Gregory.

  Olivia had made a rash decision once before. With no money, experience, or inclination, she’d signed on with the Harvey Company.

  No, Olivia didn’t want to be a waitress. She really didn’t want to work in the gift shop. But if she left, Mr. Gregory might take nature walks or arrow-hunting forays with someone besides her!

  “Are you going to preach forgiveness again?” She put down her suitcase.

  The small crowd divided so Mr. Gregory could move closer. “If I do, will you call me Wayne instead of Mr. Gregory?”

  “I kind of like the sound of Mr. Gregory.”

  He grinned. “And I kind of like the sound of Mrs. Gregory.”

  Everyone looked at Olivia. There was really only one thing to say.

  “I do, too.”

  ARMED AND DANGEROUS

  by Dianne Christner

  Dedication

  To my sister, Kathy Flack, who bravely read my first unedited manuscript, who shared a room with me growing up, and whose e-mails always brighten my day.

  Chapter 1

  El Tovar Hotel at the Grand Canyon, 1908

  Armed and Dangerous. Edie Harris mouthed the title as she traced a smooth white finger across the crisp cover of the dime novel, savoring its promise of Wild West adventure even though her father had claimed such stories were highly exaggerated. Her stomach gave a queasy lurch. After two thousand miles of fascinating scenery, the Santa Fe passenger locomotive known as the California Limited pushed westward through the rugged terrain of the desolate Arizona Territory, bringing Edie closer to her own adventure, her new Harvey Girl assignment at the Grand Canyon. She hoped this job would satisfy her longing for that unidentifiable something.

  The closer she got to her destination, the El Tovar Hotel, the more nervous she felt. Having anticipated this reaction, Edie had saved Armed and Dangerous for this particular segment of her trip. She tried to relax against the plush green velvet seat, adjusted the round-rimmed spectacles on the bridge of her slender nose, and opened the book.

  A beautiful señorita resided with her father on a Texas ranch thirty miles from the Mexican border. She made the best tortillas in fifty miles, and all her neighbors loved her, which is why they were so outraged at the ruthless gang of desperados who camped one night on the fringes of the little ranch. The night before the outlaws’ terrible deed, they made campfire jokes about the way they always evaded the law.

  At that very time, a Texas Ranger determinedly rode a tall dark steed. He rode all through the night, hoping to overtake the outlaws before they escaped across the border. Soon after daylight, the pretty and unsuspecting señorita left the adobe house and started to the well to draw water.…

  Forgetting El Tovar and her new job, Edie quickly turned the page, hoping the heartless renegades didn’t murder the sweet señorita or worse. But before she could read another page, a squeal of metal brought Edie back to her surroundings inside the Pullman car. She frowned at the train’s creaky sounds and loud, choppy clacking. Surely they hadn’t arrived at the station already. Marking her page with her finger, she looked out the window.

  Edie froze.

  A gleaming pair of gray eyes stared at her through the glass. Beneath the man’s black hat was a thatch of tumbleweed hair, which blew away from his face by the force of the train’s moving air. A faded red kerchief covered the lower portion of his face. The skin around the stranger’s eyes crinkled as if he found her horror amusing. But when his kerchief fell down, exposing his face, his amusement vanished. His eyes hardened, and his face looked cruel. A disfigured hand jerked the kerchief back into place.

  Edie gasped. A train robbery!

  She bellowed out a bloodcurdling scream that would have made her father proud, at the same time accidentally hurling her book. It hit the prim gentleman seated directly in front of her on the back of his ear and bounced off onto the floor by her feet. He jerked his head around in displeasure.

  She leaned forward, clutching his shoulder. “Robbers!” she exclaimed, her voice squeaking like a rusty gate. She pointed emphatically at the window. The horrible face had vanished.

  “Look, miss—” The train jerked and belched, and Edie fell back against her seat, causing her head to bang the train’s wall and her spectacles to set sail. She let out another healthy scream, her voice fully recovered.

  The train stopped and hissed. Silence.

  “Robbers!” she yelled again. A toddler wailed. Even without her glasses, she could see the mother turn and snap, “You’re frightening my children!”

  From behind her, the conductor came at a full run, disappearing through the opposite end of the car. “I saw a horrible man in my window!” Edie cried out to the confused passengers. Chaos followed. A shrill female voice rose above the others, “We’re going to fall off the bridge! Please, don’t anybody move! Don’t rock the train!”

  Bridge? Oh bother. Edie groped the floor for her spectacles, placed them on, and pressed her face to the window again. What she saw turned her skin to gooseflesh. They were perched on a steel bridge that spanned a canyon appearing to be hundreds of feet deep. The Grand Canyon?

  “Canyon Diablo,” someone murmured.

  “What if the robbers try to make us jump?” a child asked hysterically.

  “Nobody’s going to have to jump, son.” The deep, reassuring voice brought Edie’s gaze away from the window. A formidable man owned the aisle. The top of his dusty white Stetson measured at least six feet from the train’s floor. The man could have walked straight out of Armed and Dangerous: sweeping black mustache, broad shoulders under a white shirt. A badge glittered on his chest, peeking through the opening of his tan leather vest. His long legs were tucked into tall leather boots. What impressed her most was the six-inch wide ammunition belt slung at an angle across his slim waist and hip. His stance was ready, legs braced for action; one hand clasped a revolver, and the other gripped a rifle. His gaze left the boy and swept across the other passengers.

  This man presented a proper opponent for the face she had observed, the man she had envisioned boarding the train, shooting men, ripping bodices, stealing, mauling. This lawman would surely save them.

  His gaze lingered on her face. She felt her cheeks heat.

  Shots rang out. The conductor stomped back into the car. “Ranger, they’re getting away!”

  The lawman wheeled and ran, his boots pounding the train’s floor.

  Edie leaned far into the aisle and watched them depart, her pulse racing.

  Ranger Wade Sloan detested heights. Ever since he was a boy and witnessed his parents’ wagon plummet off a sixty-foot cliff to their death, he could not squelch the suffocating reaction that hindered him in situations like this.

  He could shoot a rattlesnake without flinching, sleep soundly in a bedroll on the desert floor with no thoughts of scorpions, and track down the deadliest foe, but he could not stand on the edge of a precipice without experiencing constriction of breath and anxiety. He probably never would have taken this job had he known headquarters would send him to, of all places, the Grand Canyon.

  Wade saw a bit of himself in the young passenger. That’s why he stopped to comfort the lad. “Nobody’s going to have to jump, son.” The young boy nodded and sank against his mother. The other passengers quieted, too, except for one quoting something from the Bible: “For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.” Peace gently hugged Wade’s heart, and he turned away from the boy and his mother.

  He glanced around the car of passengers, his lawman’s brain automatically collecting and classifying
information: no one shot, no outlaws present in this car. He started toward the buffet and smoking car when his gaze caught a pretty face displaying open admiration. He saw the glitter of hope in her eyes, and he was glad to see such trust and respect. His gaze lingered. He had never seen a woman who wore spectacles as becomingly as she did.

  Wade was used to taking in a heap of facts in a few seconds’ time. Neat, well-dressed, traveling alone. His inquisitive mind never rested. Was she meeting someone? Going on to California? Was she one of those Harvey Girls? Since he’d been riding the trains in hopes of apprehending the gang that had been terrorizing the Santa Fe, he was becoming accustomed to the occasional splurge of a good classy meal at the El Tovar Hotel. He’d bet his badge she was headed there herself.

  A round of shots grabbed his attention. Thundering footsteps followed. The conductor shouted, “Ranger, they’re getting away!”

  Wade jerked around and bolted down the aisle. Energy coursed through his limbs, enabling him.

  They raced through the connecting cars and out onto an outside platform. The engineer shot off rounds into the blue expanse. Wade lifted his Winchester.

  “They disappeared over the side of the trestle,” the conductor said.

  Wade put his sight on the place he thought they might reappear. They didn’t. He scanned the valley below with his field glasses.

  “Going after them?” the engineer asked.

  Wade had no intention of hanging off the bridge like a circus performer.

  “No. They’re gone,” he said, his voice gruff. “Without a horse, I can’t track them. If they had boarded the train, it would’ve been a different matter. I’d say we get this train off the bridge. We make too big of a target. I’ll ride back later and look for clues.”

  “Seems they always know when you’re aboard,” the conductor said.

  Wade sighed. “They’ll slip up sooner or later.” Nothing worked with this gang. If he rode along the tracks, he missed the robberies, always at the wrong place at the wrong time. They seemed to sense when he was aboard. Hopefully someone got a look at one of the robbers this time. “I’m going to question the passengers. Let’s get this train back on schedule.”

  “Yes, sir!” the engineer said.

  Wade worked his way through the cars, reassuring the passengers and asking the same question. “We scared the robbers off. Anyone happen to get a look at ’em?”

  He’d given up hope when a soft voice beckoned, “I did.”

  The lady with the spectacles. He strode toward the dark-haired beauty and squatted down in the aisle beside her. “You saw them?” he gently urged.

  Her blue eyes widened. “One of them.” Her face brightened with animation. “He pressed his face up to my window. I saw him very clearly.”

  Wade noticed a vacant seat next to hers and nodded toward it. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  He slid into the seat and removed his Stetson, placing it on his knee. “Will you tell me what you saw?”

  She nervously clutched something. He was disappointed to see it was a dime novel. Next her imagination would conjure up the description of some character out of her book. He’d seen it happen before.

  “He wore a red kerchief.”

  He nodded indulgently. “Do you remember the color of his hair? His eyes?”

  “Oh yes. His eyes were grayish blue. His hair was light brown.”

  That could be any man in the territory. “Were there any identifying marks or mannerisms?”

  She bit her lip a moment.

  As enchanting as he found her, his frustration was building. “Miss, I—”

  “Edie Harris.” She smiled and blushed.

  “Wade Sloan, ma’am. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I happened to notice what you’re reading. Are you sure you’re not imagining what you saw?”

  Her blush deepened. “I most certainly am not.”

  “But you are the only one who saw anything. None of the others—”

  “Then why did you ask if you didn’t want the truth? Just ask that man.” She leaned forward and tapped the shoulder of the passenger in front of her. “Sir, excuse me. Can you kindly tell the ranger that I saw the bandit?”

  The man turned and shrugged. “I honestly think she did. Before the train even stopped, she screamed, saying a robber was in her window. I didn’t see anyone, but”—he shrugged again—“I think maybe she did.”

  Wade cringed. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Terribly sorry I doubted your word. It’s just the book, and—”

  “It’s all right. I understand.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I just remembered something. The robber had a deformed hand!”

  “Now that is something.” More than anything he had been able to glean to date on any member of this gang. He wondered how to handle the situation. “May I ask where you’re headed?”

  She looked up at him through her thick dark lashes. “El Tovar. I’m a Harvey Girl.”

  He couldn’t contain his knowing smile. “Is that a fact? Would you mind if I stopped by the hotel to question you further?”

  “I don’t mind, but I don’t know what my boss will say. I’m just starting at this location.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. Thank you again, Miss Harris.”

  “You’re welcome, Ranger Sloan.”

  Wade replaced his hat and rose, starting toward the car in which he’d been riding. Maybe his luck was changing after all.

  Chapter 2

  Edie scurried about the dining room’s rustic yet elegant boulder-and-log interior, though not as briskly as she had during the noon crowd. Her first day at El Tovar would have been trying enough even without all the fuss and bother she had attracted over the attempted train robbery. There probably wasn’t a Harvey employee around who hadn’t heard of Edie Harris by now. Since an early morning customer recognized her from the train, everyone had bombarded her with questions, customers and fellow employees alike.

  At first it felt comforting to share her frightening experience, but Constance Gibson, the red-haired, lively, spirited head waitress, soon took her aside and requested she not scare the customers, who no doubt needed to board the train again. Edie tried to quit discussing the incident, but that was about as easy as swatting a pesky fly away; the questions just kept returning.

  “Miss!” An attractive, middle-aged customer motioned to Edie.

  Hurrying to the woman’s table, Edie smiled, and even though she had been trained never to do so, she wiped her sweaty palms on her starched white apron. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Look what happened! My dinner is ruined!” The customer gave her red cloth napkin several hard shakes.

  “Oh!” Edie gasped. She was responsible for the small Mount Everest on the customer’s roast ribs of prime beef au jus. “I am so sorry. I will replace your meal at once.” She deftly snatched the offending plate and the empty glass saltshaker—its missing top now adorned the asparagus vinaigrette—and with two quick strokes brushed most of the stray granules from the white tablecloth onto the plate.

  The woman continued to shake her napkin, and Edie hurried toward the kitchen.

  Miss Gibson took one look at the plate, and her slightly freckled face paled. “Which table?”

  Caught with the evidence in one hand, Edie adjusted her spectacles with the other. “Table ten.”

  “Place another order! Quickly!” Miss Gibson hurried off toward the distraught customer, muttering something about a free meal.

  Edie picked the goopy shaker top out of the food and handed the ruined dinner to a busboy. After she placed the new order, she cleaned and refilled the saltshaker. She was not used to making mistakes. Following her training in Chicago, she’d spent one year at a Kansas Harvey House where she started as badge number fifteen and was quickly promoted to badge number six. Her fine working record allowed her to transfer to the more sought-after Grand Canyon location. She certainly did not wish to get off to a bad start.

  Her new roommate,
Dinah, appeared and gave her arm a squeeze. “It will get better. The first day at a new location is always the hardest. I probably wouldn’t have kept this job at all if I hadn’t been a friend of the Harveys.”

  Edie smiled gratefully. Dinah wasn’t as attractive as most of the Harvey Girls with her not-quite-blond, not-quite-brown hair and prominent overbite, but she certainly was one of the kindest.

  When the meal replacement was ready, Edie started back to table ten.

  “My apologies again,” she said, placing the perfectly garnished plate in front of the woman and the saltshaker in the center of the table.

  “Miss,” the woman said, smiling tentatively, “I hope I wasn’t rude before. I’m sure I overreacted.”

  Edie looked from the woman to her male companion. “Not at all. Thank you for your kindness.” Edie leaned forward, confiding, “It’s my first day.” She would have added, And yesterday my train was nearly robbed, except she happened to see Miss Gibson watching them. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “No, thank you,” the woman said. “I hope tomorrow goes better.”

  Edie smiled and stepped away, catching a glimpse of the head waitress, who gave her an approving nod. The gesture set her world right again, other than her increasing fatigue from an exhausting day.

  Always Edie pushed herself to be a woman who would have made her father proud, one who hailed new experiences, enjoyed challenges, sought adventure—her reason for relocating to the Grand Canyon in the first place. Only, since her papa’s death, she was more emotional. She’d had to hold back tears when she’d made the mistake in the dining room. Her father, a true adventurer at heart, would not be pleased to see her like this. If, indeed, he could happen to see her, she would want him to know that she was carrying on well enough on her own, just like he had prepared her to do.

  As the evening crowd thinned out, Edie picked up a pitcher of milk, grateful that soon she could get off her feet and relax. Maybe she’d take up Armed and Dangerous again and see what happened to the señorita.