The Rails to Love Romance Collection

by Brandmeyer, Diana Lesire; Cabot, Amanda; Carter, Lisa

  Wyatt stood. “It would be my pleasure to escort you, Miss Owen. We can walk to the observation car. Maybe we will see a patch of green or even a buffalo.”

  “I’d like that. I haven’t seen one yet. I hoped to see all sorts of wildlife on this trip.” She waited for him to get free. Miss Periwinkle moved her feet into Wyatt’s path, as if she could stop him from getting away from her.

  “It’s a narrow walk all the way there, but I’ll be right behind you. It’s three cars down.” Wyatt rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Mary didn’t mind the warmth of his hand or the fire that rushed through her. Was Miss Periwinkle green with envy?

  Chapter Ten

  Mary paced the empty observation car. With all the windows, it should have been pleasant and full of excursionists. Instead, the snow and the sun hiding behind clouds made for a dreary view. “How much longer do you think we will be stranded?” She stood next to the glass, but her breath fogged it, concealing her view.

  “The engineer told some of the reporters the new track should be finished by tomorrow. We might be able to pull out in the morning.”

  Mary turned to Wyatt. “Another day?” Her voice rose in a pitch that hurt her own ears. “You knew this. And yet you closed your eyes. And went to sleep? We don’t have enough food for another day.”

  “Let’s not panic everyone. Remember, God said you can’t add a day to your life by worrying.” Wyatt moved closer to her.

  “That’s your answer? Don’t cause trouble? Don’t worry? It’s going to be pandemonium once it’s discovered. We have to do something. I’m going to gather some men to help find more game. I’m sure I can borrow the rifle from the stationmaster again.”

  Wyatt grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close. “We aren’t going to starve, and you aren’t going hunting again.”

  She pushed against his chest. But he didn’t let go. “You have no right to tell me what I can do. You aren’t my father or my husband. I won’t sit here waiting for provisions to be brought. I have my own gun. If I have to, I’ll use it.”

  “You brought a rifle?”

  “No, this.” She pulled her small pistol from her pocket. “And if you don’t let go of me, I’ll use it on you.”

  “Miss Owen. I’ve been looking for you.” George bent over and gasped for air.

  Wyatt released her, and she hid her gun in the folds of her skirt. Her heart fluttered. “What’s wrong, George?”

  “Your aunt fell, and we can’t wake her up.”

  Mary rushed through the cars. A man played a violin, and the bow reached into the aisle, poking her in the side as she passed. “Sorry, please excuse.” She took no time to look back. Please, God, I have to get to Aunt Cora. Please let her be awake. Had she broken the man’s bow? No matter. She would find out later and make amends.

  She made it to their car and stopped. Men stood in their seats. Miss Periwinkle hovered over Aunt Cora, who lay in the aisle still as death.

  Wyatt bumped into her.

  She bobbled on her feet.

  He steadied her.

  Grateful, she took strength from his strong hands on her waist. Please, God, let her wake up. This isn’t the kind of adventure I wanted, Father. Pulling away from Wyatt’s strength, she clung to God’s. She knelt at her aunt’s side and stroked her cheek. “How long has she been like this?”

  Miss Periwinkle, white-faced and breathing shallow, gripped the seat next to her. “Miss Owen, she decided to come with you and Mr. Cross. When she stood, she dropped like a rock. Her head cracked against the edge of the bench.”

  “Does anyone have any honey or preserves, even sugar?” Mary, frantic for an answer, surveyed the passengers. Blank faces returned her stares. “She needs something to eat.”

  “We all do.” Miss Periwinkle sighed. “If I’d known she was this hungry, I wouldn’t have eaten the other piece of cake she offered.”

  Mary stiffened with fury. She wanted to yank Miss Periwinkle’s ankles so she’d fall and hit her own head.

  “Think, do you have a sugar cube you slipped in your pocket, a piece of candy?” Wyatt’s voice boomed above her. “You there, sir. You had butterscotch this morning. There is no time to lose here.”

  The man came to life. “Yes, I have a piece.”

  “I have a bit of preserves.”

  Passengers sent items to Mary. She’d never had to do this before, but Father explained what needed to be done. The preserves would work fast, but she needed water or tea. “Wyatt, I need to make this thinner.”

  “George, bring some water, please.”

  Mary patted her aunt’s cheek. “Please, wake up.”

  Wyatt took the glass from George and handed it to Mary. She spooned it into the preserves and stirred. “Lift her head please, Wyatt.”

  He knelt and did as she asked.

  With great care, Mary dribbled bits of the thinned mixture into her aunt’s mouth. “Come on, Aunt Cora. Open your eyes.”

  Mary’s aunt moved, and Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What’s the meaning of this? Why are you all looking at me?” She coughed and then groaned. “My head.”

  “Be still, Aunt Cora. I’ll help you back into your seat. You fainted, and now you have a nasty bump on your head.”

  Wyatt slid his arms under Miss Owen’s. “Sorry, ma’am, but this is the easiest way since you’re stuck between the seats.”

  “No harm, Mr. Cross. It’s nice to have such a strong young man to help Mary through this.” She staggered on her feet. “I think I’m fine now.”

  “You are not fine. I need to find you something else to eat before you have another accident. Mr. Cross, do you suppose you can rally the men for another hunting party?”

  “Mary, you are not going out there again. I will not have my niece acting like an outlaw. Those men can hunt just as well as you. Besides, I’d like to have you by my side as I feel a bit weak, and Miss Periwinkle isn’t much use.”

  “I’m sorry. If you’d have said you needed the cake—”

  “You should have asked.” Mary thundered. “What were you thinking? That you are the only person who is hungry?”

  Wyatt backed away. This outlaw was a bit more than he could handle. She didn’t need a husband. She was ready for adventure. Maybe a little too much.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aunt Cora, you seem fine now. I really think I should go help hunt food for us. Father—”

  “You will not. Your father doesn’t expect you to kill a buffalo to feed me.” She twisted in her seat and took hold of Mary’s chin. “You have much to learn.” She let go and turned away. “I fear I’m not going to have enough time to teach you.”

  “You only need to tell me how to keep from being married. The rest I can figure out. Besides, as long as you eat, you’ll be here a long time.” Mary patted her aunt on the hand, and then rose.

  Her aunt grabbed her. “It’s not what you would expect. What if I told you I wanted to be married?”

  “But you always said…” She plopped onto the seat.

  “That’s what I wanted you to believe. I made my choice and had to live with it.” She dabbed her eyes. “Growing old alone isn’t joyful. You’d do well to remember that.”

  “I still don’t understand. You talk about laughing with friends and missing trains in Spain—”

  “I’ll tell you about that if you promise not to hunt with the men.”

  Guilt slid down her spine. She wanted to know more about her aunt’s life, but what of her promise to her father?

  Miss Periwinkle edged her way into the seat in front of them. “Did you hear? The train behind us will be here soon. I overheard some men discussing it in the observation car. They thought with the snowstorm it wouldn’t have left Topeka, but it did. It’s the legislature train, and it has a sleeper car. We won’t have to search for comfort on these hard seats tonight.”

  “Why would they let us have the berths, Miss Periwinkle?” Mary tried to follow the logic o
f someone giving up a place to lay flat. She rubbed her neck and wished she could do the same for her lower back.

  “We’re women, silly. Of course we will get to use them. The legislative train is full of men. Isn’t it grand being a woman?” Miss Periwinkle leaned over and checked her reflection in the window. She patted a stray hair back into place. “I must let Mr. Cross know. I’m sure he hasn’t a clue since he’s out scavenging for food.”

  Mary seethed. The woman vexed her with her all-knowing attitude and obvious attraction to Wyatt. But why? If Mary wasn’t interested in him, she ought not care if Miss Periwinkle thought him a good catch.

  But she did. Mary considered Wyatt’s concern for her aunt. Family must be important to him. He was quick to provide for the two of them, also something good to have ina husband. He must care for adventure, since he reported the news from places like this excursion. And there was the matter of how he made her feel when he pulled her close.

  But would Wyatt want Miss Periwinkle, the flirt? She had to know he wouldn’t be able to afford to outfit her in expensive clothes like she now wore. Mary wouldn’t need such things. Her father had plenty of money, so she wouldn’t go without, even if she convinced him to follow her desire for adventure by becoming a missionary. God called her to be more than a wife. She knew it in her heart.

  “You might want to let the other women in the train know first. They will be ecstatic about this as well. Run along, dear.” Aunt Cora moved her legs to the side as Miss Periwinkle exited.

  “I imagine they’ll have provisions to share, too, Aunt Cora.” Mary leaned back in her seat. The weight of her promise to her father slipped off her shoulders, leaving room for excitement to take hold. “Now tell me about the man you didn’t marry.”

  Aunt Cora’s eyes shone with the sparkle of tears.

  “Mr. Cross. Mr. Cross.”

  Wyatt turned from the men he’d gathered to hunt small game. Miss Periwinkle stood at the top of the stairs, bundled in a fur coat. It wasn’t that cold. What did she want with him? Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go back inside. “I’ll go with Johnson if he promises not to shoot me. He does work for a rival paper.”

  “Mr. Cross!”

  The woman’s voice triggered a bolt of pain in his head. He waved. Maybe that would quiet her for a moment. “I’d better find out what she wants before she slides off those steps.”

  “I hear she’s looking for a husband.” Johnson guffawed.

  “I’ll make sure to introduce the two of you later.”

  Johnson snickered. “I think it’s too late for me. She’s set her hook for you, Cross.”

  “Well, I’m not getting reeled in.” He’d made it clear, or so he thought, that he wasn’t interested in her. Miss Periwinkle was meant for someone else. Unlike Mary, who tugged at his heart.

  Heavy snow clung to his boots, impeding his progress, but the weight of his reluctance further shortened his stride.

  “Mr. Cross, you don’t have to go hunting,” she yelled from the top step. “Another train is on its way. We’ve been saved.”

  He stopped. “Thank you, Miss Periwinkle. I need to inform the men. It was kind of you to let us know.”

  “You’ll be coming back on the train soon, won’t you, Mr. Cross?” Her lashes fluttered, lips curved—a pose no doubt meant to draw him in.

  “At some point I will. You best go back inside where you’ll be warm.” And far away from me.

  “Why must you know?” Aunt Cora’s eyes pooled with tears.

  Mary wanted to cry with her aunt. She hated upsetting her. “It’s only because I admire you so much. I want to be like you and travel, maybe become a missionary. Didyou know one woman changed an entire village just by showing them what soap can do? Can you imagine? I want to do something with my life, like Susan Blow. Opening the kindergarten in St. Louis is such a worthy adventure.” She stopped and took a breath.

  “I didn’t want the life I have. It’s what was left when a carriage accident took the love of my life.”

  Mary gasped. “You were planning on getting married?”

  “Yes, and it isn’t as horrific a thing as you have imagined. Horace and I were going to marry that spring and live in the house my parents gave us. The one I live in now.” She caressed her cheek. “We had grand plans. He was a lawyer, and we wanted to have children and take them abroad. We felt it important for children to experience the world.”

  “But how did you escape marriage to someone else? Every woman must marry or become the old spinster aunt.”

  Aunt Cora’s eyebrow raised. “Providing there are other siblings. You, my dear Mo, will never be an aunt if you don’t marry, since you don’t have any siblings.”

  A cloak of loneliness settled on Mary.

  “Once Horace was gone, I knew I couldn’t love another, and my father didn’t insist.” Her aunt wiped her eyes. “I thank my father for that. He gave me a precious gift. He sent me on a tour of Europe. I traveled the world. I met so many people and made friends everywhere. Though, I think Father thought I’d return with my grieving finished and willing to marry.”

  “All those you met, and yet you never found another Horace?” Mary rested against the back of the bench.

  “No. There were a few who came close, but they didn’t make me as happy as Horace.”

  “Do you think it’s like that for everyone? That you only get one chance at true love?” Worry crept through her. Had she passed up her chance by insisting she didn’t want to marry? Is this what her father wanted her to understand, that real love only happens once? Thinking back over their conversations, Father never said she must marry, only that he desired her to.

  “Maybe not everyone, but I think it is true for the Owen family. Your father felt the same about your mother. Once he lost her, he couldn’t give his heart to another, not even for you, Mo. He wanted you to have a mother, but he refused to marry unless he found love again.”

  Mary didn’t even bristle at the use of her nickname. She had much to consider, like the way Wyatt made her stomach all fluttery and her heart race when he touched her. Had God sent him? If so, what would Father think about her marrying a reporter?

  Chapter Twelve

  Darkness fell. Wyatt didn’t reappear all afternoon, even though Miss Periwinkle told him he didn’t have to hunt. The minutes continued to drag by as Miss Periwinkle chattered about all she intended to do once she reached Pueblo.

  “The house Uncle purchased has thirteen bedrooms. Can you imagine, Miss Owen?”

  Mary shook her head and hoped Miss Periwinkle didn’t realize she’d been about to drift off. “That is quite a lot of rooms. What are you going to do with all of them?”

  “Uncle hasn’t said. He doesn’t have any children.”

  Mary’s stomach twisted. Something wasn’t quite right. “Miss Periwinkle, why are you with your uncle instead of your parents?”

  “They died. Uncle came to the door the day our house was being sold. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and he was leaving the city. When he suggested I accompany him to Colorado, I was sure God sent him to rescue me. At least going with him would give me a chance to find someone else to marry.” Miss Periwinkle balled her hands in her lap.

  A liar. She’d told them earlier she’d been in Europe and her father let her play cards.

  “You didn’t know him, and you came on this trip?” Aunt Cora perked up. “I’m not sure that was wise, my dear.”

  “Maybe not, but I didn’t have a choice. It was go with him or to the poorhouse.” She sat back in the seat, and tears bubbled. “I thought my life would be different. The man I was to marry left as soon as he found out my parents died and left me without an inheritance.”

  “How awful, Miss Periwinkle.” Mary’s heart flipped from disgust to hurt. What would it be like to lose both your parents and your home?

  Father wished her married, but was it really the worst thing in the world? What if she had to follow a man she didn’t know to Colorado? It would be an ad
venture, but not one with happy excitement. Just horrible dread.

  Miss Periwinkle sniffed. “Please, call me Winnie. I will be fine. I do miss my parents. Maybe when this train takes off and I get to Pueblo and see the house, I’ll feel better.”

  Mary pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Winnie. “What does your uncle expect you to do? Are you to be a guest? A companion? Or—”

  Two men loud with laughter tumbled through the doorway; one of them landed in the lap of a woman. She shrieked.

  The still-upright man dragged the other to his feet and saluted the outraged woman with a brown bottle before bringing it to his mouth and tossing back a long swig. “’Scuse me, lady. Didn’t mean to land on you. Old Griff here is a bit wobbly on his feet.”

  Griff punched him in the arm. “You’re not so stable yourself.” He walked backwardand stopped next to Mary. “What do we have here? A whole seat full of pretty women?” He reached over and grabbed Mary by the arm. “I believe red-haired beauties to be my favorite.” He yanked her out of the seat.

  “Stop it! Unhand me.” Mary tried to peel his grip from her arm.

  Miss Periwinkle screamed. “Let her go!”

  Aunt Cora smacked him with her knitting needle.

  Griff laughed. Snot sprayed from his nose. “Can’t stop me. I’m taking her.” He pulled Mary through the car and out the door. “Get the yellow-haired one for yourself. We’ll have us a party, Hank.”

  Mary fought Griff. She couldn’t get away. Why weren’t any of the men helping? Where was Wyatt? Please, God, send him to find me and Winnie!

  Evening crept up fast on the prairie. The clear sky sparkled with stars, and the moon lit the way as Wyatt and the other men traipsed through the snow back to the train.

  “Excellent idea you had, Johnson.” When Johnathan suggested they explore the Kansas landscape, Wyatt agreed. The open air, though chilly, was much sweeter to him than being trapped on the train. His feet were soaked through. He didn’t mind, knowing he’d soon be sitting across from Mary and warming his feet by the heat of the stove. He hoped Winnie Periwinkle had returned to her seat.