“It’s our belated wedding present,” Brynmor added. “We want Max to have the best wool so he can continue knitting gifts for our sister.”
“And for you as well.”
He shrugged. “If he wants, but what he really should do is sell his creations in Noelle and everywhere.”
Max Peregrine was as stubborn as he was unusual, in the best ways. He’d welcomed her into his home even when his wife Robyn, at least at first, had not.
“I like the caps he knitted for you and your family.” She especially liked that his cap couldn’t contain his always neatly-trimmed auburn hair and how the dove-gray wool highlighted every shade of red and brown.
Instead of touching the hat on his head, his hand went to his pocket—and the older hat hidden there. He wouldn’t give up the cap his father had given him, no matter how unraveled. “Max is as generous as he is busy. He and Robyn would gladly employ you again in their Noelle office. The letter you left with Mrs. Fitzpatrick, did it advise your sisters to go there if they needed help?”
“Of course.” She may have mixed feelings about Mrs. Fitzpatrick, but she’d learned to trust the Peregrine family.
Plus their office and homes were conveniently situated across from the Noelle train depot. Her sisters wouldn’t have to wander around Noelle looking for help. Or for her if she went back there.
“If we hurry, we might catch today’s train to Noelle.” Brynmor’s stillness warred with his words. He appeared content to stay where he was.
But if they didn’t make a move, she’d have to find a place to stay in Denver tonight. Whereas in Noelle, there was a room waiting for her and a paying job as well.
“Where are your lambs?” she asked.
“At my office.”
“Since I’ve never been there, you’ll have to lead the way.”
He led only for the first few strides, then he matched her pace. He also maneuvered so his injured eye remained on his side farthest from her.
She’d missed seeing him. From every angle. Tomorrow, she’d be missing him again when she stayed in Noelle and he returned to Denver. She couldn’t dwell on any of that. She needed to focus on her sisters.
“Before we leave, I’m giving your brothers money. Then if Oriole and Wren arrive, they’ll have train fare to reach me.” She didn’t bother to correct her if to a when. No more wasting her time on that. She’d use Noelle as her base to hunt for her sisters in every nook and cranny of Denver. And its surrounding towns as well. She’d be purchasing a lot of train tickets. And, like Ulysses, she’d also promise to reward anyone who’d send her a telegram if they saw her sisters.
“My brothers won’t take your money. Neither will I. We should’ve committed to helping you sooner, but…” Brynmor’s unsaid words hung in the air between them.
But she hadn’t let him.
And the moment it once again became too dangerous for him to be near her, she must change all of the plans she was making—and make sure Brynmor never saw her again.
Chapter 2
Balancing a fidgety lamb in one arm, Brynmor opened the railcar’s door. Before he could take the other lamb from Lark, so she could more easily climb inside, she was aboard. As nimble as their foundlings’ wild cousins who ruled Colorado’s mountains.
She’d moved as fast as his sister. But Robyn had never, until recently, chosen to wear a dress. Lark must have lifted the hem of her striped skirt to aid her ascent. He hadn’t noticed. He’d been looking elsewhere.
The ebony waterfall cascading down the back of her red jacket mesmerized him. He also hadn’t noticed until he met Lark that most women tied up their hair. Lark was completely different from anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t even braid her hair.
When she glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes held a fathomless allure that rendered him speechless. “Have you changed your mind about traveling with me to Noelle?”
“No. Of course not.” Why would she think that? Because you’re staring at her like a besotted fool rather than getting on the train with her.
He tightened his grip on his cargo and followed her. A lot less gracefully. The lamb squirmed at the worst moment. Rather than let the rascal hit the wall, he let his shoulder take the brunt. “Ouch. You little b—” He gritted his teeth and patted the little bounder’s head, trying to calm him.
“Are you all right?” Lark’s silky voice soothed his agitation.
He lifted the lamb higher. It nestled its head under his chin and finally relaxed as well.
“Haven’t felt this good in a long time.” The truth in his words did not surprise him. He was with Lark. And he wasn’t shirking his work, so he didn’t have to feel guilty. At least not overly. He could’ve loaded the wool on the train, put the lambs in Lark’s excellent care, and trusted her and the conductor to handle the transport from there.
As was their routine, Robyn and Max would be waiting to unload their freight at the other end. He wasn’t needed for that. But he wanted to be there to help with that. He wanted to hug his sister and see Max’s reaction when he received his gift.
He wanted to see Lark’s as well. Every second she stayed with him was his gift.
She watched him closely. One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows arched like a raven’s wing. Was she finally ready to take flight? Away from not only his erratic behavior but all of him? He hid his eye by turning to close the railcar door behind him.
He didn’t want her to run from him again. From his raging desire to be near her. From the flaw in his vision and in his character. He hadn’t been strong enough to protect her.
When she’d first seen his murky eye, she’d appeared horrified, but she hadn’t turned her back on him. Instead, she clung to the false belief that she was responsible.
Only two people were to blame. Ulysses for wielding his lash and himself for not anticipating the rogue’s assault.
He followed her along the narrow aisle to a pair of empty seats at the other end of the car. She’d wisely chosen the spot farthest from the other passengers. Here the lambs would be less likely to disturb anyone.
Her inky hair cut a compelling arc before settling out of sight behind her as she turned and sat with her spine straight against the rear wall.
He took the seat facing her or rather, facing the lamb sprawled on her lap. Her slender but strong hands—honed by a lifetime of playing music—cradled the imp, holding him safe. The same way she’d held him in Cheyenne when they danced, and he’d wondered if she’d—
The rising buzz of whispers yanked his focus from her.
When he glared over his shoulder, his gaze clashed with their fellow passengers’ disapproving stares. Not for long. They ducked their heads and looked everywhere but at him. All too soon, they started sneaking glances at Lark and not the lamb in her arms.
Only the children watched the lambs, openly and with silent delight. He couldn’t hear exactly what their elders continued whispering, but he’d heard enough from others to guess.
Brute-sized man with ugly white eye.
Beautiful woman with unfortunate heritage.
He’d given the last person who’d labeled her thus—along with other derogatory descriptions about her kind—the end of his fist. He’d finally earned the title of brute.
“They do not deserve to see you.” Lark’s voice was quiet but firm. “Give them your back.”
When he did as she said, he found her staring out the window and not at their tormentors. Their scorn had most likely risen the instant he and Lark had entered the railcar. He’d been slow to notice, but she hadn’t. She’d chosen the farthest seat for their lambs and him.
“I don’t see Ulysses outside.”
Her comment made him scan the platform in pursuit of her flamboyantly dressed troupe manager. On his second sweep of the lengthy walkway, he searched for anyone, in any outfit, who might be trying to conceal their identity.
The whistle blew, and the train chugged forward, leaving Denver and its worries behind.
&
nbsp; Or not.
He held out his lamb for Lark to take. “Can you hold him as well? Just for a moment. I want to have a look at the second passenger car.” He gestured behind him.
When she glanced in the direction he’d indicated, her frown became more worried than miffed. She’d picked their seats to keep them as far away from those they both could and couldn’t see.
“Don’t worry. If he got on without us noticing, he’ll get more than he bargained for when he gets off in Noelle.”
“You have faith in their sheriff?”
“Him and others. Many in Noelle judge people by their actions and not their appearance.”
When her eyes narrowed on their fellow passengers, he regretted his words. He didn’t care if they feared his size or were disturbed by his eye, but he cared how they made Lark feel.
She shrugged, collected his lamb, and leaned her head against the wall behind her. And began whispering, or rather humming, to their foundlings. Her voice rocked him like a lullaby.
He climbed slowly to his feet, finding it extremely difficult to walk away from her. He lifted the bag that held the bottled milk he’d brought for the lambs from his shoulder. Taking his time to prop it carefully in the corner of his seat made a good excuse to delay leaving her.
“I’ll be fine on my own.” She cocked her head as she gazed up at him. “With the train traveling this fast, I’m not going anywhere. And I’ve heard worse in my life.”
He grunted, not liking her words except for the part about not going anywhere. He strode toward the forward car. The sooner he completed his investigation, the sooner he could return to her.
When he did, he found her conversing in low tones with the industrious conductor who never stopped moving as he battled to keep the train on schedule…but who now occupied Brynmor’s seat.
Caleb Court shot to his feet when he saw him approaching. “Brynmor. Mr. Llewellyn.”
The formality doubled his tension. They’d been on a first name basis for quite some time. Why was today different?
“I know I shouldn’t be—” Caleb waved his hand as if at a loss for what he was doing. “I wanted to—” His face flushed a surprisingly bright shade of red. “I had to reassure Miss Lark that it was good to see her again. That she’ll always be welcome on my train.”
Jealousy crept up his spine. The boy was smitten.
But he was more than that. Brynmor sighed in acceptance. Caleb wasn’t a boy. He was a young man, a hard worker, and a compassionate soul. Lark needed more people like Caleb near her.
“Thank you for your care.” He held out his hand.
Caleb shook his hand without hesitation, but his youthfully lean body remained tense. “On behalf of the railroad, I must apologize for what’s happened at the junction.”
Brynmor groaned. An apology meant one thing. Their mutual concerns had come true. “It’s not your fault. You warned us.”
“What’s happened?” Lark asked.
“The junction’s attendant has gone missing,” Caleb replied.
“Gone?” He’d thought the worst would be a longer than usual stretch of laziness. “For how long?”
“Long enough for the engineer and the boilerman to agree to shut down the water tower.”
Brynmor fought the urge to pace the aisle like his brother would’ve done. Assuming Heddwyn’s habits wouldn’t help his situation or Lark’s. Confusion and concern furrowed her brow.
He reclaimed his seat across from her so he could focus on his explanation. “Without someone tending the pumphouse, the railroad’s concerned about the tank and its pipes freezing.”
“And you’re worried because…?”
“Even though my family were informed of the station attendant’s shortcomings—”
“I had to tell you,” Caleb interrupted. “You needed to know the truth.”
“And we thank you for your honesty.” Brynmor shrugged. “The junction’s location was too ideal to not take a chance on it. We hired the attendant to do the side job of setting up a hub for our freight. But without a functioning water tower, the train won’t have a reason to stop. It’ll take on water for its engine elsewhere.”
Lark’s gaze went from him to Caleb. “How long can you stop there today?”
“A few minutes. But if Mr. Llewellyn needs more time, I could—”
Brynmor raised his hand to halt where the conversation was heading. “I’m not getting off.” I’m not leaving Lark. “I’ll deal with the situation on my return trip.”
Lark stared out the window at the world whipping by in a snowbound blur. “Do you think he departed of his own free will?”
She was asking if the man had been taken, probably worrying about her sisters suffering a similar fate. Was that how they’d become separated? She hadn’t said, and he wasn’t going to ask because no matter what had happened, Lark would be blaming herself for not keeping her family together. Better to focus on what lay ahead.
He tried to imagine who’d want the attendant enough to abduct him. Unfortunately, all he could envision was the man wandering into the woods and unable to find his way back. Yesterday’s snowfall would’ve erased his tracks.
He muttered a curse under his breath.
“Only Mr. Llewellyn can tell.” Caleb’s posture turned as rigid as when he’d risen to defend his reason for sitting with Lark.
He didn’t like where the conversation was going again, but Lark’s questioning gaze forced him to address it. “I know what’s his and what’s ours. When I handed over our stock, I assessed his living quarters and advised him how best to transform the space into an office. If his personal belongings are still at the junction, then he didn’t plan his departure.”
He’d wandered off or been taken. A search party would have to be organized.
“So there’s really no choice,” Lark said. “You must leave the train and check.”
“And,” Caleb added, “if Mr. Llewellyn decides he must stay at the junction, I’ll make sure, as always, that his cargo gets to Noelle without any hassles.”
Apparently the search party would be just him. “Mr. Court,” he growled, “why don’t you also take my seat again while I’m gone?” That suddenly all too real possibility spiked his jealousy but eased his worry. At least Lark wouldn’t be alone for the remainder of her journey to Noelle.
Caleb nodded. “We have a plan. I’ll notify the engineer and be back before the train stops.” He left before Brynmor could argue or agree.
“Maybe,” Lark said in a hopeful voice, “the attendant will have returned by the time we arrive.”
“All of our lives, including his, would be easier if that happened.” Job opportunities like this were rare and could set up a man for life. The secluded location was a minor hardship that wouldn’t last long. A few months. Maybe a year. His frustration turned on himself.
Don’t be so judgmental. You’ve never lived alone. He’d always had his brothers and sister with him. Until Robyn falling in love and getting married had broken up their quartet. He may have agreed to Robyn staying in Noelle with Max, but he’d never stop wishing his sister lived closer to him.
“Life,” Lark said with a sigh, “would be much easier if there were more people like Mr. Court.”
The fact that she hadn’t used the conductor’s first name eased his agitation. She’d never once called him Mr. Llewellyn. That was what she called his brothers on the few occasions she’d spoken to them in Cheyenne—in a tone as reserved as theirs when they’d spoken to Lark and her sisters.
His entire family’s standoffishness had been peculiar. Luckily, in Noelle, they’d all mellowed.
“I hoped I wasn’t wrong in taking a chance on him,” Lark murmured as she petted the lambs nestled against her.
Lucky little bounders. He cleared his throat grudgingly. The rascals deserved all of her affection after being orphaned. “A chance on him? Or them? You mean the lambs?”
“You’re a terrible teaser.” Her smile made his heart race and
his clothes feel too tight.
He crossed his arms and tried to sit still. “Am I?”
“I’m not the only one who’s mentioned the Llewellyn brothers’ humor.”
But you’re the one whose opinion suddenly means the most. “If we’re not discussing the lambs, then who are we talking about?”
“The conductor.”
“And what chance did you take on him?” He didn’t like how that sounded.
Her back stiffened in response to his gruff tone. “I asked him to watch for my sisters.”
“Oh.”
“Oh what?” she snapped.
He shrugged. “I should’ve asked him to help you. You can trust him.”
The tension drained from her body as she leaned back against her seat. “If that’s the case, then why were you scowling at him like a bear?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face, wanting to erase that moment and the jealousy that kept rising with each mention of the young man. When he glimpsed the shadow of a smile on her lips, he dropped his hand so he could inspect her more closely. “Are you sure you aren’t the terrible teaser?”
She raised her brows as if his question were outlandish. Her tactic failed because it only drew his attention to her eyes which shone with— He inhaled sharply. Her dark eyes danced with happiness, unfettered by any torment, including rage and remorse. A rare sight he’d glimpsed precious few times.
“I’m speaking the truth.” The huskiness in her voice made his blood pound in his veins.
“Uh-huh.” He cleared his throat and strove to speak coherently. “And when did you last see a bear? Let alone a scowling bear?”
“The answer to both of your questions is…” She shrugged. “It’s been a while. Which makes my description even more fitting because I almost never see you scowl either.”
Was she deliberately teasing him to distract him from his worries? What about hers? They may have retreated, but they weren’t gone.
“I’m sorry.”
Her lips parted with surprise. “For what?”
“Like I said. I should’ve enlisted Court’s help sooner.”
A Bride For Brynmor (Songbird Junction Book 1) Page 3