He grasped her hand tightly in his. “Come on!” Breaking into a dead run, they raced down the street to the station.
The Central Pacific began to pull away. Taryn clutched a fistful of her skirt in her hand to allow her legs to stretch out in front of her to keep up with Jared’s longer gait.
She gasped for breath, unsure if she could keep up the pace. They’d never make it. Other passengers were poking their heads out the windows to watch their plight.
They were at the edge of the platform as the last boxcar chugged down the track. “Don’t stop running,” Jared shouted over his shoulder, his strides lengthening. Releasing her hand, he reached out, grabbing the rail of the last boxcar to hoist himself onto the steps. Turning his body, he reached down, grasped her wrist, and yanked her forward. Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her up against him placing her on the boxcar’s small ledge-like platform.
They burst into laughter as they shared how they imagined their mad dash to catch the train appeared to those who may have been watching.
The conductor stopped them as they entered the boxcar asking for their tickets. Jared reached into his shirt pocket, extracting the tickets. Since he’d dressed with his body still wet, the tickets absorbed the water from his shirt. The conductor held out the damp tickets, inspecting them repugnantly. They struggled to stifle their laughter. “Your compartments are located three boxcars down,” he sniffed.
As they passed through the boxcars of the Central Pacific, many of the same travelers from the Pacific Express from Omaha were in evidence, congratulating them on successfully boarding.
Etta stopped them as they passed through her car, relief in her voice. “I feared you wouldn’t make it.”
Jared grinned in acknowledgement. “So were we.”
“I was explaining to those who hadn’t traveled with us on the Pacific Express how you were newly married and off picnicking.”
They were both disheveled, their hair and clothes suspiciously damp. Neither of them missed the knowing glances the passengers exchanged between each other. Taryn felt her face heating crimson. As they continued through the boxcar, more passengers congratulated them not only on managing to board the train, but also on their new marriage. They provided a stir for those watching their race to board.
Passing through to the next boxcar, Taryn lowered her voice so only Jared would be able to hear her. “Can you imagine what they think with us dripping wet?” They paused, taking in each other’s appearance, then burst into renewed laughter.
Jared didn’t share her excitement over the sleepers. Although more solidly constructed than those of the emigrants’ cars on the Pacific Express, it would still be a feat to force his large frame in the space provided.
At the close of evening. Taryn climbed up into her berth considering it luxurious in comparison to the primitive boards they’d shared. Since the berths included curtains to allow privacy, she decided she would sleep in her chemise for a more comfortable night’s rest.
Once within the berth, she closed the curtains finding when she pulled them together the ends didn’t meet the walls. If she pulled the curtains back slightly, a gap formed in the center. Nevertheless, she removed her garments which proved challenging in the limited space. Finished, she stored them under the berth, wrinkling her nose in distaste for the attire so recently her favorite.
Lying down, she found it necessary to curl her legs up to prevent them from dangling out into the aisle. With a frown, she struggled for a comfortable position, and though not totally succeeding, it would have to suffice. As much trouble as the berth gave her, she could imagine what Jared was going through in the berth below her. A small laugh escaped her at the thought of him cursing at the confined space. She wouldn’t put it past him to use his guns to blast away the walls in an attempt to give his long legs the necessary room. Her mind conjured up the image of those few hours in the afternoon. Warmth spread through her at the mere thought of his kisses, much less his caresses. She touched the palms of her hands to her cheeks, feeling the heat permeating her skin. She cautioned herself against the growing fondness toward Jared.
Thoughts of Brad intruded upon her. Her mind plagued her with guilt starting when she’d removed her engagement ring. She should have told Jared about her engagement. Her feelings argued with her conscience. She couldn’t put the ring back on now, not when Etta Briggs and others on the train believed her married to Jared. A feeble excuse since only she would know the ring wasn’t from him. No one but she and Jared, her conscience added. All she needed to do was tell everyone the truth. Yet, if she did, there was no telling what those on the train would think of her having slept by his side night after night. Groaning over the battle going on inside her head, it was some time before she fell asleep.
****
Taryn found an opportunity to speak with the journalist, Robert Michaels, the next afternoon. She hadn’t seen him since lunch an hour before. “Good afternoon,” Again, she’d caught him busily writing in his journal.
“Miss Ashford, what a pleasure,” Robert said, adjusting his spectacles. “Please sit.” He slid over to the adjoining seat.
“If you’d prefer to concentrate on your writing Mr. Michaels, I could come back.”
“Not at all. I assure you, your presence is a welcome respite. Please, call me Robert.”
She nodded taking a seat beside him. “It looks as though you’ve obtained several viewpoints.” There were numerous pages of his writing stacked on his lap.
“Everyone has been very cooperative in talking with me.”
“Have you met Etta Briggs?” If anyone could give him interesting tidbits, it would be Etta.
“Yes, I’ve met her,” Robert said. “I found when speaking with Etta, you don’t speak at all, only listen.”
She laughed. “I believed I was the only who held that opinion.”
“It’s hard not to admire her,” Robert said. “For a woman of her years to start all over again is admirable. Most would not want to leave their settled existence. The West needs more women such as Etta.”
“I don’t know where she gets the energy. I’m certain she knows every person on this train.”
Robert shifted his position. “Speaking of which, I didn’t realize you were married. Etta spoke of your husband when she learned I knew you.”
“I’m not.” Her gaze shifted around as though she were committing some crime. She went on to explain the circumstances. “Etta and others still believe Mr. King and I are married. The ruse is necessary for propriety’s sake.”
“I understand. Your secret is safe with me.” It’s a shame though,” he added. “It would have made a ‘delightful’ addition to the piece I’m writing.” They both broke out into laughter.
Robert glanced down at all the notes he’d accumulated. Picking up his pen, he crossed out the sections where he’d referenced she and Jared as a newly married couple beginning their lives in the West. He paused, shifting his gaze to her. “You make me curious about the man playing your husband. I look forward to meeting him.”
****
When Taryn returned to her seat, Jared was not in evidence. He was probably playing cards again. Just as well. Her conscience viciously chastised herself for flirting with him so outrageously when she pledged herself to Brad. What could she have been thinking of at the time?! It nearly led to the taking of her womanhood. Guilt riddled her thoughts as an unwelcome confidante. She only had herself to blame for allowing her feelings to get away from her. It could not happen again.
By the late hours of evening, Taryn still battled with her conscience until sleep overtook her. She woke in the wee hours of the morning in need of the convenience room. She frowned in annoyance. Reluctant to get up, she rolled over attempting to ignore her needs, with no success. Debating the best way to get to the convenience room in her chemise, she finally decided on wrapping herself in the blanket. She threaded her way down the aisle, bracing her feet when the train shook making her steps falter. S
he was exceedingly grateful the other passengers slept. Her attire was inappropriate for meeting another passenger. Once finished in the convenience room, she retraced her path back to her berth. The train slowed somewhat then jolted forward again, picking up speed. Reaching her berth, she lost her balance, her feet stumbling to regain their footing. She released her hold of the blanket. Her hands reached out, instinctively seeking something to grab onto.
“Easy.”
Two strong arms caught her from behind as she toppled, hands clasping around her waist to set her back on her feet. Her head swerved around, and she gazed up at Jared’s face.
He turned her to face him. She stood a little too close for sensible thinking. The blanket covering her lay on the floor, pooling around her feet. Once again, she stood before him wearing only her chemise. His hands were still on her waist, his touch causing her heart to hammer in her chest, filling her head with the sound. She stooped down to retrieve the blanket. He helped place it around her, his fingers brushing her neck and shoulders. A tingling sensation rippled through her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
“Taryn…” His hand slid around the back of her neck. He gently pulled her head to his as he leaned over her. His mouth took possession of hers. Her mind screamed to pull away. His other arm slipped around her waist under the blanket. He pressed her against the hard length of his body.
“Jared please…don’t.” The contact consumed her, chipping away her control.
He kissed her cheek, then pulled back. He encircled her waist with both arms, drawing her body slowly to his. “Why do you deny your feelings?”
She tilted her chin upward. “I’m not feeling anything.” She wanted her words to sound indifferent, a pathetic attempt when her breathing was so pronounced.
His brow shot up in question. “No?” His mouth swooped down over hers to prove her wrong, to entice her.
She pushed him, trying to disengage his hold before she allowed the feeling to take complete control. He would have none of it. Passionate and demanding, he continued to kiss her. When she would turn her head away, his hand reached up, his fingers holding her jaw. Her heart pounded wildly, her senses reeling as she felt herself weaken. She must resist. She should think of Brad. He was her fiancé. In one final attempt, she shoved him hard staggering back herself as the support of his arms fell away. Righting herself, taking deep breaths, she returned his gaze, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“You want more than kisses from me, Taryn.” His eyes blazed with passion. “If there were a decent bed to be found, I’d show you how much you want.”
“How dare you! I don’t want anything from you, including your kisses.”
A muscle in his jaw tensing, his eyes narrowed. He caught her chin holding it firmly in his hand. A slow smile formed on his face. “As I said once before, you lie extremely well.”
He turned, walked back down the aisle, leaving her to consider his words. She never experienced such an arrogant and insolent lack of manners. Stomping on each rung of the ladder back into her berth, she mumbled her irritation with him. Her fury prevented sleep. Punching her pillow, she tossed and turned. How she despised him. The words raged repeatedly in her mind, but her heart felt the truth.
****
Taryn didn’t see much of Jared for the remainder of the journey. She had purposely avoided him whenever possible. His influence on her was too strong. She had to remain faithful to Brad. The only solution was to stay away from Jared. She had to completely cut off her feelings.
When the Central Pacific arrived in Sacramento, she collected her things. She stood on the platform saying good-bye to Robert Michaels and Etta Briggs. Once the group dispersed, she turned to see Jared stepping down from the train. She felt a painful tug constrict her heart realizing she would never see him again. She wanted to say something but didn’t know what words to use.
“Do you have someone meeting you?” He frowned at his own question, inwardly asking himself the reason he still felt protective toward her.
“Yes, my relatives are meeting me.” She paused awkwardly, suddenly wishing to prolong saying good-bye. “Thank you for going along with pretending to be my husband.”
He smiled. “You did me the favor of acting my wife for the sheriff in Omaha. I wanted to return the favor.”
Their words were polite, carefully phrased.
She wanted to explain why she’d turned cold toward him over the past days. She had to remain true to Brad—to her engagement. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. What did it matter now? They were from different worlds bound for separate destinies. He would continue his life as a gunman, and she would marry Brad.
As difficult as she found it to say good-bye, time worked against her. “I suppose I should go look for my aunt and uncle.” She turned away.
“Taryn.” He grasped her wrist.
She turned. His deep voice acted as a soothing balm for the ache she felt within her at their parting. His gentle touch on her wrist sent a searing spark rushing through her veins.
He pulled her close. “I don’t know what happened to cause you to turn away from me. Maybe I was going too fast for you.”
She shook her head in agony. How could she tell him?
“In any case, it’s probably best this way.”
She struggled to prevent her voice from cracking. “Yes, it’s probably best.”
Their gazes locked together.
He broke the silence. “Let’s at least say good-bye properly.”
She didn’t refuse him when he leaned his head down. He pressed his mouth over hers possessively, his hand entangling in her hair as he held her against his chest.
She softened against him, her arms reaching about his neck. She held nothing back in her kiss, giving herself up to the strange passion she felt.
He wrapped his arms around her, surprised by her eager participation in the kiss. He finally broke away. Gently kissing her forehead, he released her. He placed his hat on his head caressing her cheek with his knuckles. “Good-bye Taryn.”
“Good-bye Jared.” She longed to run after him, throw herself into his arms, and beg him to hold her forever. Instead, she simply watched him walk away, struggling to prevent the tears filling her eyes.
Chapter Five
“Taryn!”
Startled, she found herself wrapped in a woman’s arms. “I’d recognize you anywhere. You look like your mother.” Gwen Dalton turned to her husband. “John, doesn’t she look like Maddie?”
“She does indeed,” Jonathan agreed enthusiastically, embracing his niece. “You’re as pretty as your mother and aunt,” he added, pulling back, “but I believe there’s a trace of your father there, too.”
Her aunt and uncle silently assessed her as they decided which of her parents she favored more. Each was right of course. She did look like her mother, but she had her father’s color of eyes and temperament.
She had never met her mother’s sister or the husband who had whisked the young woman away to seek his fortune in gold twenty years earlier. They’d exchanged letters, but letters were not the same as knowing someone. She appreciated the warm greeting by them. It eased her anxiety of whether the meeting would be awkward.
Gwen Dalton had similar looks to her mother’s. The high cheekbones and dimpled smile she herself had inherited. Gwen’s upswept salt and pepper hair was simply styled yet very attractive with her bone structure. Her aunt stood an inch or so taller than Taryn, and her aunt’s figure was proportionate to her height. Jonathan Dalton fit the westerner’s ideal. His weathered features spoke of the years outdoors, and he was a ruggedly handsome older man. His shock of white hair only complemented his looks.
As they made their way to the waiting carriage, Taryn glanced back over her shoulder. Jared had already disappeared into the crowd. Turning around, she determined it was for the best. It had been an exciting, intoxicating journey, but it was over.
Her worries of what to say to the re
latives who had so willingly opened their doors to her were unfounded. Gwendolyn Dalton was a fountain of words. Taryn found great amusement from her aunt’s endless source of conversation. Etta Briggs would think her a ‘delightful’ woman.
“I hope I haven’t made things difficult for you with my parents by coming here.”
Gwen grinned agreeably. “Of course you have, but it’s so exciting. John and I have been looking forward to your arrival.” Her gaze fell lovingly on her husband, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. Gwen suddenly laughed. “Maddie will be furious with you!”
Taryn didn’t doubt her aunt’s statement. Her mother would be livid with her for leaving in spite of being told she couldn’t.
Jonathan patted her hand, a grin on his swarthy countenance. “Don’t worry about your parents. We’ll make sure they know you haven’t been kidnapped by heathens.”
Gwen linked her arm with her as they continued to the carriage. “Mind you, I love my sister dearly, but by the Holy Spirit, she can be such a prude!”
Taryn smiled in humor. Obviously, her mother had not changed much in the years which lapsed since her aunt had last seen her. Climbing into the carriage, adjusting her skirts around her, she leaned back against the cushioned back and relaxed. She’d made the right decision in venturing to the west.
“Your mother wrote to me telling us of your engagement. What is your fiancé’s name again?”
“Brad Thompson.”
“Your mother praised him from the beginning to the end of her letter. Brad must be a remarkable man.”
“Yes, Mother thinks he’s wonderful.”
Gwen’s brows drew together delicately. “Was Brad upset you were coming out here to visit?”
“I imagine he will be when he learns of it.”
Gwen said nothing, but Taryn noticed she attempted to hide a smile. Her aunt seemed extremely intuitive. The responses she’d given to her aunt’s questions revealed more than she’d intended.
****
Over the next week, Taryn found her way around the large twenty-thousand-acre ranch by trial and error. The sprawling landscape was beautiful in its enormity. Bright green lawns surrounded the main house extending out to the meadows, and farther beyond to the mountains.
Untamed Hearts Page 6