He knew he looked good to her. He would have known as he came up the stairs. He would’ve been anticipating her reaction.
What had he thought she’d do?
“I like this face,” she said, signing the words in the most practical of ways. She tried to school her own features. It wouldn’t do to appear overly enthusiastic. That would only feed his pride, and she wanted him just like he was. He already knew he was handsome. And her actions had already revealed her opinion. He didn’t need her waving wild hand signals over him. “It’s a good face.”
“It’s just me.” He anchored his hands to her waist. Was it her imagination, or was there the slightest trace of hesitation in him? Perhaps he wasn’t as vain a man as someone who looked like him should’ve been.
“It’s you.” She nodded primly, blushing at how she’d practically devoured him with her curious touch. Blushing at his secure hold. It seemed he didn’t want to let go, though it hampered her movements and made signing a challenge.
“Jem.” She added emphasis in the slowness of her gesture. His name. The letter J touched to her brow. Her acceptance of him. She knew him. Recognized him.
“So you don’t mind the beard being gone,” he joked, fishing.
“I liked the beard,” she signed, “but I like this too.”
“Better?”
She shrugged. Maybe yes, maybe no. As if she didn’t care. Teasing him.
“So you don’t care?” he asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He tugged her closer. In one excruciatingly slow motion, he leaned his cheek against hers.
“You don’t care if I do this?”
She shook her head against his. She was practically trembling. He must have realized that by now,
“Or this?” He kissed her softly.
Her breath caught in her throat. Was he playing with her? He seemed so...accomplished to her now. Worldly. And she was as backwards as they came.
He regarded her, waiting.
She brushed his hands away, blushing even more furiously.
“Annie,” he said, and he was Jem again.
“It’s a beautiful face,” she told him haltingly, her hands moving through the air. “You know that.”
“Beautiful, eh?” He dragged a hand down his smooth jaw as if only now discovering he’d shaved. “You don’t mean...handsome?”
This was Jem. Her Jem. Same as always. A man who’d never play with her in any mean-spirited way. The realization calmed Annie. Of course he wouldn’t.
“I said what I meant.” The teasing light filled her again, mixed with a sense of relief.
How this man loved attention. She hadn’t known that about him. Had never seen it in him before. It was somewhat adorable.
“And I meant what I said,” she added.
He straightened and broadened his already broad shoulders. He flattened his lapels and tugged down on the hem of his suit coat. It fit perfectly.
“And the suit?” he asked.
“It’s a beautiful suit.”
“Beautiful?”
She touched one finger to her lips, holding back a smile. Yes.
“The shoes too,” she signed.
“You like the shoes?”
“I like everything, Jem.”
He stopped at that and looked searchingly at her. “And me?”
Especially you.
She simply nodded, keeping that thought to herself. It should have been obvious anyway.
He inclined his head. Perhaps he understood all she didn’t want to say. For some reason he patted his coat, about level to where his inside pocket would’ve been. Then it appeared he reconsidered. Whatever it was he’d been considering.
Annie wondered what. What had he wanted to say? What had she missed?
Her curiosity was piqued, but it was too late now. The moment was over.
In a businesslike fashion, Jem bent and picked up the medical bag. He opened it on the foot of the bed. “I have everything here we should need for Gabe. I hope.”
She looked around his arm at the neatly arranged white coils of bandages and rows of tiny jars lined up in what appeared to be a wooden cage of sorts with shelves built in. The rest of the contents were a mystery, just a glimmer of metal here and there that she didn’t recognize. Scissors, clippers, tweezers, and scalpels, perhaps. They were all secured with leather bands so they wouldn’t be jostled about in travel. It was really quite clever.
But none of it would pass for horse supplies by the look of it.
“I thought you weren’t that kind of doctor,” she signed, confused.
He shrugged, “Ray knows a physician in town. He set me up with this”—he paused, glancing at her—“once Ray told him about the injuries.”
“He told a doctor in town about Gabe?” she signed, alarmed. “What if he tells Creed?”
“We never mentioned Gabe by name,” Jem assured her quickly, “but it seems this physician is already familiar with him. He guessed right off. Wanted to help. Said Gabe’s mother has brought him there in secret a number of times. He urged us to get Gabe as far away from Colorado Springs as we could. As quick as we could.”
His meaning hit Annie.
Gabe had needed treatment many times in the past. He’d needed to be treated secretly, so his father—his father—wouldn’t know. He’d probably been hurt many other times and hadn’t received proper care. How often had he hidden minor injuries from his mother? Or more serious ones, like now?
He probably would have wanted to spare her.
How alone he must have felt.
Annie bit her lip. Her heart burned with a fierce sadness for Gabe and an equally fierce desire to hurt Creed, his father. How could he?
How could he?
* * *
They arrived at the train depot in Colorado Springs much later than Jem would have liked. He drummed his fingers on the ticket window ledge, impatient for the ticket agent to turn and face him.
The man turned, a half frown already in place. His expression cleared as he ran his eyes over Jem, taking in his fancy wool frock coat, the suit, and the medical bag.
“May I help you, sir?” The clerk actually smiled beneath his smart mustache. He smoothed a hand down the front of his crisp white shirt, deferential-like.
Funny how a suit and a good bowler hat could improve a man’s standing just like that.
Jem straightened to his full height and pushed his useless gold-rimmed spectacles up on the bridge of his nose, hopefully exuding an air of importance. Hoping the gray-tinted lenses didn’t look too strange.
“I need tickets to Denver on the sleeping car—three adults and one child,” he said briskly.
“Sleeping car’s full up. Sorry about that.”
“Full up?” Though it was a cool day, a trickle of sweat ran down Jem’s neck into his collar.
“Folks coming up north on the overnight. So it’s full up,” the clerk repeated apologetically, perhaps because Jem was having a difficult time accepting his words. Perhaps wondering why they needed the sleeping car for a trip that would have them there well before nightfall. “I have seats in first class,” the clerk offered.
For an instant, Jem considered telling the man he had a patient who needed to lie down—but his thoughts spun forward, picturing Creed coming to the train station, asking after a sick young man. Able to describe Gabe exactly: hair, height, eye color, if not his new clothes.
Another bead of sweat joined the first.
Jem didn’t dare look out at the covered boardwalk where Gabe was waiting next to Annie and Mae. Mae who was dressed—to her considerable delight—as a servant lad with a cap pulled low over her forehead, her curls trapped up in a thin mobcap, which she wore underneath the hat. He knew without looking that Gabe appeared pale and about to pass out any minute. He also knew without looking that Annie was valiantly and as discreetly as possible giving Gabe support. She looked every inch a wealthy doctor’s wife in one of Lorelei’s old suits, a woolen burgundy affair done up to fit her, with sle
eves that hugged her arms down to her wrists and a fashionable bustle worked into the skirt. Somehow.
Annie’s skirt dropped clear to the floorboards, long enough to hide the fact that she was wearing her work boots and not footwear as equally fashionable as the suit. That would have required a significantly higher heel. And, Jem had told her, in the event they needed to run, he wanted her to be able to run. She hadn’t objected in the least.
A friend of the doctor’s wife had done Annie’s hair this morning in town—which was why they were late. With coils and curls and hairpins tucked up under her hat in some mysterious way, no one would have recognized Annie. Not even Creed. Jem had to give her a second glance himself every now and again. She looked like she’d lived in a big city all her life, coddled and always dressed to the nines. Pearls, cameos, and all that went with it.
Ray had offered to stay and help keep Gabe upright, but after some deliberation they’d all agreed too many people would recognize Ray. He was practically a fixture in Colorado Springs, at least among a good many shopkeepers. Church folks too. And they wanted no trails for Creed to follow.
So they’d placed Annie on one side of Gabe, and a good strong support post on the other.
“Sir?” the clerk prompted. “The first-class tickets?”
First class. If Creed was on the train, he’d ride first class.
The realization struck Jem, and he knew he needed to change tacks.
“No,” he said, thinking quickly. “Do you have seats for us in the back of the train?”
The clerk raised his brows.
“My”—Jem caught himself up before saying daughter—“servant lad enjoys looking off the back of the caboose,” he explained.
“Ah, I see,” the clerk said, accepting this with an almost parental sort of smile, as if he remembered having small children of his own. He glanced out the window, his gaze falling on Mae in her boy’s clothes and cap. “Have a care he doesn’t fall off.”
“I will,” Jem promised, handing over the amount the man quoted for the tickets.
He turned to leave, hoping he hadn’t made them somehow more memorable, and fearing he had. What sort of doctor employed a servant lad who was three years old, or nearly?
He should have said son. He should have said son.
Jem hurried to Gabe’s side, gathering his bags under his left arm and slipping his right hand under Gabe’s elbow, taking nearly all the boy’s weight onto himself.
“We’ve got to board,” he said, leading them in the direction of the caboose. “Now.”
He didn’t know if Creed was on this train. He didn’t know if Creed was following, or already on his way to Denver. All Jem knew was he needed to get Gabe into a seat and get them all out of view. As quickly as possible.
* * *
The stuffy air in the caboose closed in on Annie. It was warmer here than it had been outside. The train had stopped to let passengers on and off in whatever town they were in—she hadn’t heard the porter properly.
The day had started much cooler. Now the sun was high and the weather warmer than she’d expected. She also wasn’t used to wearing quite so many clothes. All these layers: shift, corset, bustle, the shirtwaist, the slim-fitting suit coat, and finally the skirt that skimmed down the sides of her waist and hips and flared out all the way down to the floor. Such heavy fabric. Pretty, but heavy.
She simply wasn’t accustomed to it. Or to all the curls, loops, and pins in her hair. The little hat. With its lacy black veil that draped ever-so-fashionably over her eyes. They all conspired to make her unrecognizable. They all conspired to make her hot and breathless too. That, and the coal stove that was blazing in one corner of the car. She wished she could remove the cloying weight of her suit coat, but the sleeves were too tight for easy maneuverability, and she didn’t dare draw attention to herself. The car was nearly packed with passengers.
At least when the train had been rumbling along, a breeze had come in through the windows. She fanned her face with her hand. Beside her, sharing the seat, Mae did the same, copying her.
“I’m hot,” Mae said, jutting out her lower lip.
Annie smiled sympathetically and tapped the brim of the boy’s cap Mae was wearing. She too was unrecognizable as the little girl she was, at least from any distance.
Facing them, Jem sat shoulder to shoulder with Gabe, discreetly offering him support. He had to keep Gabe’s back from touching the cushions, which would have surely been agony.
Gabe must have been feeling the close heat too, for he suddenly pitched forward and would’ve fallen to the floor of the train if Jem hadn’t grabbed hold of him.
Annie made an effort not to gasp aloud.
Gabe let out a groan that tugged on her heart. His face turned a sickly gray color, his brow damp with a fine sheen of sweat. The poor thing was hurting badly. What she wouldn’t give to take away his pain.
“He needs to lie down on his stomach,” Jem said, his voice muffled by Gabe’s sleeve.
Annie tried not to show her alarm, noticing a man in a business suit glancing their way and frowning. She straightened primly, pretending to flick a speck of lint off her already impeccable sleeve. To her relief, the businessman soon turned his attention back to his newspaper. Jem’s attention was so focused on getting Gabe’s coat removed, he hadn’t even noticed the man staring at them. Annie was glad. He had enough to concern him.
“He needs this shirt off of him too,” Jem murmured, sounding frustrated. “Some salve. Some laudanum.”
Annie leaned across Mae to try to pry the sliding window open a little further, but it wouldn’t budge. It seemed well and truly stuck. Finally, the train jerked forward and pulled away from the depot. They were moving again.
“Gabe’s sick,” Mae said, her little face worried.
Annie slipped a comforting arm around her.
“Yes, he’s sick,” Jem said carefully, flashing a grateful glance at Annie. He’d been so careful all along that Mae didn’t learn what had happened to Gabe. Abuse such as he’d suffered was too horrible for a girl her age to know about. It was too horrible for Annie at times. Like now.
“But we’re going to take care of him,” Jem added. His voice was so reassuring, so confident, but his eyes revealed his concern.
Annie worried that memories of Lorelei’s fever and loss were wearing on him. She tapped on the brim of Mae’s beloved cap again to distract her and make her smile.
Mae straightened and pulled away, saying, “My cap.”
Annie glanced around to make sure no one was watching them. She lifted one finger, a habit that was hard to break, and then made the sign for yes, nodding with her fist. “Yes, it’s your cap,” she signed.
Mae scrambled off the seat. “I want Sugar.”
Annie glanced nervously at Jem, hearing the trebly note of distress in Mae’s voice.
“Ray’s got Sugar. Remember?” Jem said in a calm voice. “He’s going to take real good care of her. He promised. And I believe him. Don’t you?”
Mae stood there in her little boy’s garb, looking so lost and out of place all of a sudden. She stuck out her bottom lip and her chin wobbled.
Oh dear, Annie thought. Any moment now, Mae was going to dissolve into tears and she’d likely work herself up so much, she wouldn’t nap. She loved that dog. Truth be told, Annie missed Sugar too. Missed her soft fur. The way she leaned against Annie’s legs, just waiting to be patted.
“Ray promised, Mae,” Jem said. “You’ve got to believe she’s going to be just fine. I caught him slipping a whole slice of bacon to her this morning before we left.”
“You did?” Mae’s chin lifted.
“Yep, sure did.”
“I saw it too,” Annie signed, angling herself away from any prying eyes and keeping her hands to one side, nearest the window.
“You did?” Mae placed her hands on Annie’s knees. Her touch seemed hesitant, soft as a butterfly.
Annie nodded, putting on her most trustworthy expre
ssion, which wasn’t difficult since she had indeed seen Ray slipping bacon to Sugar. He’d been babying that dog since his trip into town to see the veterinarian.
“We’re not leaving Sugar forever, Mae,” Jem promised. “I told you that, and I wouldn’t lie. She just couldn’t come with us, not with Gabe sick like he is.”
Mae climbed back onto her seat. Soon, she slid sideways against Annie and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jem told Annie quietly, “and I’m going to get off at the next stop, Littleton.”
Why? She widened her eyes.
“I can’t in good conscience let Gabe go on like this. We need to find him a bed for the night.”
Annie chewed the inside of her cheek. He’d said he was getting off at the next stop, not them. She checked the other passengers again. No one was paying them any mind, so she signed, “Are you worried about Creed?”
Jem glanced at Mae. Finding her absorbed with the laces of her boots, he replied quietly, “I’m always worried about Creed. The doctor told me he’d come by twice earlier this week.”
“He went to the doctor’s?”
“Twice.”
“But, I thought he didn’t know the doctor.”
“He doesn’t. He’d never been there before, never once. But he has to know Gabe needs medical attention.”
“Take me to my uncle,” Gabe mumbled, lifting his head. “Get yourselves away.”
“We will,” Jem said. “But we’re going to stop for the night. There’s a hotel near the Littleton depot.”
What he didn’t say was that they were all worried that Creed would go to Gabe’s uncle’s. That he might even now be there.
Gabe closed his eyes and leaned more heavily into Jem’s side. He might have even lost consciousness. Annie hoped he could sleep for a while.
“I’ll search the boardwalk for any sign of Creed,” Jem said quietly. “Once I’m sure it’s clear, I’ll come back for you.”
“Will there be enough time for us to get off the train—all of us?”
“I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“What if Creed is there?” Annie asked, her hands flowing swiftly from word to word as never before. “What if he sees you? What if the train starts to leave?”
The Bartered Bride (The Brides Book 3) Page 30