The Rails to Love Romance Collection

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

  The passengers elbowed past Rosemary as they scrambled for the exits. She stuffed her reticule into the bottom of her valise, and then plopped the bag on her seat to indicate it was occupied before scurrying after the others.

  Her legs wobbled when she set foot on the unmoving ground, and Henry reached out to steady her. “Careful there, missy.” And he patted her shoulder again. She refrained from rolling her eyes.

  While most of the passengers headed across the street to the café or the mercantile, Rosemary just wished for solitude. She’d decided the worst part of traveling was the lack of privacy. The billowing prairie grass and sprinkling of colorful wildflowers behind the depot beckoned. The wind teased tendrils of her hair from their pins, and the sun on her face lifted her spirits. The fragrance of the grass reminded her of the grazing range back home, and the ache in her chest grew.

  As she walked, the fresh air blew the cobwebs from her mind. She bent and picked a few daisies and buttercups, twirling them between her fingers. She needed to think. She needed a plan.

  “There’s bound to be some kind of social event once I arrive in Philadelphia. I’ll ask Uncle Quentin for some money for a new dress and whatever else my cousins think I need. Aunt Florence will get him to agree. But instead of buyin’ a dress, I’ll use the money to purchase a ticket home.”

  The plan might be deceitful, but she brushed aside pangs of conscience as she climbed up a gentle slope. She’d do whatever it took to go home. Wade had said he loved her when he coaxed her for a kiss. Was it love she felt for him in return, or was she simply caught up in the flattery? How was she to know how love felt? She’d never been in love before. But if her plan worked, she’d be back home soon, and love could have a chance to grow.

  Stopping at the top of the rise, she closed her eyes and let the wind blow her hair, not caring if her tresses became tangled. There was nobody here to impress.

  Pink wild roses in the distance caught her eye, and she hiked toward them through the rippling green waves of prairie vegetation. She plucked the blushing blooms and lifted them to her nose. Their sweet fragrance pulled her lips into a smile before she nestled them into her bouquet. Long strands of grass bound the stems together.

  A train whistle sounded from afar off. Another train coming through the valley approaching the Sweetwater station?

  She glanced back in the direction she’d come and nearly dropped her flowers. The prairie grass all but swallowed the town of Sweetwater, and the depot looked so tiny it could have been a toy. How could she have walked so far? Had thirty minutes passed already?

  Rosemary began running, but the long grasses and thorny vines snaked out and snagged her skirt and entangled her ankles. She stumbled and fell. The thorns bit into her flesh, and she winced but frantically tried to free herself from the entrapping vine. Her efforts were mocked by the distinctive sound of ripping fabric.

  “Nooo.” Her heart pounded double time as she glanced up toward the train from her seat on the sun-warmed ground. It still sat in front of the depot, but was building up steam. Surely Henry would notice she wasn’t on board and make the train wait until she got there. With resolute tugging, she finally freed her skirt. She pushed away from the ground and scrambled to her feet, her hem hoisted to her knees. And she ran. The long grass slapped at her, as if laughing at her impaired progress.

  Black smoke billowed from the locomotive. A few hundred yards still stretched between her and the depot when the train began to roll forward. Its shrieking whistle drowned out her shout.

  “Wait! I’m coming! Wait for me!”

  Chapter Three

  Jeremy stowed the mail bag from the train in the compartment under the counter where Otto had instructed. The postmaster would come for it later in the afternoon. So far, he’d not run into any issues he couldn’t handle in the agent’s absence, and putting one more incident-free train layover under his belt boosted his confidence.

  “Wait! Come back!”

  Jeremy jerked his head up. What was the shouting about? He stepped to the door. A young woman in a dark blue dress ran alongside the tracks in the direction of the departed train, waving her hand.

  The smoke from the train trailing in thick black puffs far down the tracks indicated it was picking up speed. The woman stopped and bent at the waist.

  Jeremy strode to the edge of the platform, leaped off, and ran toward the woman. “Ma’am? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  The lace on her bodice heaved in and out along with her labored breathing, and her red face evidenced how hard she’d run.

  But her eyes…

  Jeremy’s pulse staggered. He’d never seen eyes such a deep shade of violet. “M–ma’am, perhaps you should come and sit down. Can I get you some water?”

  She gulped and nodded, but her mute expression screamed distress. Jeremy took her arm and gently steered her to the depot. Her quaking hand sent arrows of misgiving through him.

  “Are you all right? Should I summon a doctor?”

  They reached the shadow of the overhanging depot roof, and she gave a weak shake of her head. “No, I–I’m f–fine.”

  Jeremy wasn’t convinced. He ushered her inside to one of the chairs, praying the flimsy thing wouldn’t collapse. “Sit here while I get you a drink of water.”

  He rushed out the back door and yanked the pump handle up and down until cool water gushed forth. He caught the liquid in a dipper and returned, carefully balancing the vessel so as not to spill its contents. “Here. Sip this.”

  She did so and then drew trembling fingers across her brow. Tangles of askew chestnut hair fell from loosened pins.

  “Thank you, Mr.—”

  Forbes almost slipped out. “Reide. Jeremy Reide. Are you quite certain you don’t need a doctor?”

  Her shoulders slumped. She looked away from him, and her head dipped. “Miss Rosemary Denton, and no, I don’t need a doctor. I just missed my train is all.”

  Jeremy glanced out the filthy window, but the only evidence of the train was a dissipating puff of smoke far in the distance. “You were supposed to be on that train? I don’t recall you purchasing a ticket.”

  Miss Denton tossed a sideways glare at him. “My ticket was purchased in Laramie. I got off the train while it was stopped to go for a walk, but I’m afraid I wandered too far.”

  Jeremy straightened. Otto hadn’t included this kind of predicament in his instructions, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out. “I see. Well, I can get you on the next train. Let me see your ticket and I’ll change it for you.”

  She pushed unruly locks of hair behind her ear. “I can’t. My ticket is in my reticule, which is on the train along with my valise and trunks.” She held up her empty hands.

  “Oh.” He bit the inside of his lip and sorted through possibilities. “Perhaps you could send a wire to someone, a family member or—”

  She cocked her head. “You weren’t listenin’. Everything I had with me is on the train, includin’ my reticule. I have no luggage, no ticket, and no money to send a wire.”

  Staring into her eyes robbed him of reasonable thought, so he plunked his hands on his hips and studied the tips of his shoes. He certainly had money to help her; that wasn’t an issue. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a few coins.

  “The telegraph office is right next door.” He held out the coins.

  “No, no.” She intertwined her fingers together at her waist. “I can’t take your money.”

  Jeremy raised his eyebrows and smiled. “What other choice do you have?” He helped her to her feet. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Arne. He’ll send your wire for you.”

  He walked her to the telegraph office and then set out down the street. Having only been in Sweetwater for less than two weeks, he knew few people. But the two folks who came to mind were the pastor of the local church and his sweet wife. The moment they’d seen his unfamiliar face in church last Sunday, they wasted no time inviting him to dinner and making him feel at home. />
  He hurried to their cottage and knocked. The pastor’s wife opened the door, and her gray eyes twinkled. “Well, hello, Jeremy.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Now how did you know I was baking cookies today? Come on in and have some.”

  Jeremy grinned. The aroma of baking confections taunted him to take her up on the invitation, but he had to get back to the depot. “Thanks, Mrs. Collins, not today. But I do have a favor to ask.” He glanced back toward the direction of the depot. “A young woman is stranded here in Sweetwater. She got off the train when it stopped for fuel and then missed reboarding when it left again. Everything she owns is on board, and she’s alone. I wondered if—”

  Mrs. Collins held up her hand. “Don’t say another word. You bring her here and Reverend Collins and I will take good care of her until she can be on her way again.”

  Was it improper to hug a lady nearly old enough to be his grandmother? He grasped her hand instead. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. She’s sending a wire right now, but I’ll bring her by when she’s finished.”

  The lines around the woman’s eyes deepened along with her smile. “I’ll get the extra bedroom ready.”

  By the time Jeremy returned to the depot, Miss Denton sat on one of the chairs. Telltale splashes on her dress indicated she had apparently found the pump out back and had put herself back together the best she could. Her face, no longer flushed, was framed by chestnut tendrils.

  “Did you get your wire sent?”

  “Yes.” The word came out more like a sigh than a reply. “My father’s ranch is about ten miles outside of Laramie, so it’ll take a while for someone to carry the telegram all the way out there.” She shaded her eyes against the midday sun.

  Jeremy could almost read her thoughts. “Look, it might be tomorrow before you get a response to your wire.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “There is a railroad boardinghouse, but I don’t recommend it for a lady.”

  She stood and twisted her fingers. “I don’t have money for a boardinghouse or a hotel. Could I stay h–here inside the depot? I mean… th–the depot closes overnight, doesn’t it?” Her face reddened, and she dropped her gaze.

  Jeremy waved off her stammering entreaty. “The wife of the local pastor said they’d be delighted for you to stay with them. Reverend and Mrs. Collins are wonderful people, and you’ll be safe there.”

  An odd combination of relief and discomfort filled Miss Denton’s expression. “That’s very nice of them, but I hate to be a bother. Besides, I can’t pay them.”

  Jeremy suppressed a smile. So she had a proud streak, did she? “Reverend and Mrs. Collins will be happy for your company, but if you were to offer to help out with a few chores I’m sure it would be appreciated.”

  Miss Denton hesitated before she nodded. “All right, as long as I can work for my keep.”

  Jeremy extended his arm. “Right this way, Miss Denton.”

  Rosemary opened her eyes and for a moment couldn’t remember where she was. No rocking motion or clacking of wheels against the rails disturbed the quiet. Had the train stopped?

  She sat up, groping her hand along the edge of the soft quilt. She remembered now. Reverend and Mrs. Collins had treated her like a long-lost relative yesterday. The still-dark bedroom was tiny but comfortable. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot. Pale streaks painted the sky through the east-facing window.

  Rosemary donned her dress and made her way to the kitchen. She lit the lamp and found the wood bin. By the time Mrs. Collins came out of the other bedroom, Rosemary had the fire going in the stove, a pot of coffee boiling, and flapjacks on the griddle.

  “Good morning, dear.” The pastor’s wife gave Rosemary’s shoulders a squeeze, sending a twinge of regret skittering through Rosemary. She couldn’t remember her mother’s hugs.

  Mrs. Collins reached for coffee mugs. “Why, look at this. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked breakfast for me.”

  Reverend Collins emerged from the bedroom. “Good morning, ladies. Something smells mighty good out here.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned to peck his wife on the cheek.

  The three sat down for their meal, and the pastor lifted his voice to heaven, giving God thanks for His provision and praise for His faithfulness. Rosemary listened, intrigued as the man spoke to God like He was right there at the table with them. Emotions she couldn’t identify tangled in her middle. What might it be like to talk to God in such a way?

  “What are your plans today, Rosemary?” Mrs. Collins’s question jolted her out of her reverie.

  She picked up her fork. “I’ll go to the telegraph office this mornin’ to see if there’s any reply from my father.” She drew in a deep breath, dreading what he’d say when he learned of her foolishness. “Thank you both, for bein’ so kind and givin’ me a place to stay.”

  “Oh, my dear.” Mrs. Collins reached for Rosemary’s hand. “It was our pleasure. I rather hope you can stay a few more days, but I know you’re anxious to continue your trip.”

  Rosemary dropped her gaze to the flapjacks on her plate and bit her lip. Truth be told, she wasn’t anxious at all. She insisted on doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, lingering to put off the inevitable. When she finished, she thanked her hosts again and relished the warm hug from Mrs. Collins. Reluctance weighted her feet as she trudged to the telegraph office.

  Arne Rheinholdt, the telegrapher she’d met yesterday, looked up as she entered. Tufts of gray hair stuck out from around his visor, and black garters held up the sleeves of his faded shirt.

  “Mornin’, miss.” Arne scratched his head. “Afraid I don’t have very good news for you. That there wire you sent yesterday didn’t go through. Seems the lines are down somewhere between here and Laramie.”

  She didn’t know whether to frown or smile. “So my father still doesn’t know I’m here?”

  “Reckon not. Sure am sorry, but there ain’t nothin’ I can do from this end ’cept wait till I get word the lines are back up and workin’.” Arne rubbed his gnarly hand over several days’ growth of whiskers. “Sometimes it’s a couple o’ weeks before they get it repaired.”

  She mumbled a thank-you and stepped back out into the brilliant sunlight. Now what?

  “Miss Denton?” Mr. Reide from the train depot walked toward her. “Did you get a reply?”

  She shook her head and repeated Arne’s grim report. “It looks like I’ll be stayin’ in Sweetwater longer than I thought. Do you know where I can find a temporary job?”

  Mr. Reide pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “As a matter of fact, I do. You can work right here in the depot. I’ve tried to clean the place, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.”

  Rosemary glanced around the train station. It surely needed a good scouring. She shuddered to think how many layers of grime coated the floor, and the view out the windows was barely discernible. But hard work didn’t scare her. She nodded. “I can do that.”

  He stepped behind the counter and opened the cash box. “The job pays two dollars a week, and I’ll advance you two weeks’ wages so you can buy what you need.” He held out four silver dollars.

  She pulled her hand back in hesitation, but Mr. Reide grinned. “Look around. You’ll earn it.”

  He spoke the truth. She took the four dollars. “Where will I find a mop and bucket?”

  Chapter Four

  Jeremy led Miss Denton to the tiny supply closet tucked into a niche behind the office. She’d declared the rags and mop she found there would have to be washed out first before they’d be of any use, and she’d gotten right to work. He had to admire her spunk—she certainly wasn’t feeling sorry for herself.

  He pulled out his watch and flipped it open. Just over an hour before the 11:15 a.m. eastbound arrived. Plenty of time. He jogged down the street to the Collins’ house. He found Mrs. Collins on her knees in the garden.

  When he called to her, she looked up and adjusted her bonnet. “Well, land sakes, Jeremy, what brings you
around here again so soon?” Her smile faded. “Is Rosemary all right?”

  Jeremy helped Mrs. Collins to her feet. “Yes, ma’am, she’s fine. But she is why I’m here.”

  Mrs. Collins shaded her eyes. “Go on.”

  Jeremy explained about the telegraph lines being down and the length of time it could take before Rosemary’s wire could be sent. “So she is going to need a place to stay for an indefinite length of time.”

  Mrs. Collins flapped her hand. “Pshaw, that’s not a problem. I told her this morning I wished she could stay longer.”

  “Well…” Jeremy rubbed his chin. “The problem is she’ll likely refuse any offer she sees as charity. I gave her a job cleaning the depot, so may I suggest you come to an agreement on a small amount of rent and let her do some chores?”

  Exasperation spread across the woman’s face. “If you say so, I’ll let her pay her way, much as I dislike it. It’s our pleasure having her stay. You go tell her she has a home here for as long as she needs it.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. You’re an angel.” He headed back to the depot with a lightness in his step. The prospect of having Rosemary Denton around for a couple of weeks made him giddier than it ought. His father would berate him for not keeping his mind on his work, but after all, didn’t scripture direct him to minister to those in need?

  Who was he fooling? Certainly not God. Were he honest, he’d have to admit her presence rendered more than an opportunity to minister. The moment he’d laid eyes on her, his tongue tied and he had to remind himself to breathe. Last night’s dream of wide, violet eyes and tendrils of chestnut hair bore witness of his ulterior motive.

  As he leaped over the rails and bounded up the steps, a thought struck him. Nobody knew he was the son of John Murray Forbes. Everyone knew him as Jeremy Reide. How would he justify giving Miss Denton a job without anyone’s permission? And what would Otto say when he returned to work?