by P. Creeden
“Then in a couple hours I’ll return. However, if you need help before then, you’ll find me in the public car.”
“All right.” She said as she stepped into her compartment and slid the door. Just before it closed entirely, her sad blue eyes caught his and made his heart skip a beat. Then she was gone.
Jeremiah swallowed hard. How could the young woman have such an affect on him already? He was loathe to part with her, even though he knew it was best to allow the frail young woman to rest. The last thing he wanted to do was wear her out. A lady such as her needed time to rest and recover whenever she exerted herself—his mother had been small and frail, just like Miss Warner. He hadn’t realized that she reminded him a bit of his mother until then. With a small smile, he started toward the public compartment, thinking about his mother’s slight frame and tan skin. She was different from Miss Warner in that manner. Where Miss Warner looked like a porcelain doll, his mother had looked like an Indian doll. Still, his mother worked hard in their home, raising three children while their father was often away. But she often needed naps and rest time to keep herself fit. Maybe Jeremiah was being forward by assuming that Miss Warner would need the same. Either way, he wanted to care for her in the best way that he could.
Even if it was only going to be for three days.
Something in his heart cracked a bit at the thought. He only had three days with her. He shook his head to clear it of that thought. The last thing that he wanted to do was ruin the time they had together by remembering the ephemeral nature of it. Often if he thought too much about the end of something, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy what he had. It had happened to him when he was younger and his father came for a short visit. He’d ruined the time they had together fretting over how little they had. Luckily he’d learned his lesson after that visit and grew more appreciative of the time they could spend together, rare as it was until Jeremiah turned fifteen and went to work as an itinerant cowboy at several ranches, just like his father. Though his father liked the independence of working in short spurts, Jeremiah found a home at the Wilson Ranch and had stayed there as long as he could.
Being set in his ways had only made him feel older, though, and maybe had stopped him from finding a good woman to spend his life with.
“Huh. Fancy meeting you here,” a deep voice said with a bit of mirth.
Confused, Jeremiah looked up and found a man in a three-piece suit standing in front of him. His heart sank as he met eyes with Earl Cody.
Penelope knew that Mr. Washington was right, and that she should probably rest after lunch, but when she sat down in her private compartment, she fidgeted for several minutes instead. Was it right that she already missed him? Was it wrong that she wanted instead for him to stay with her and keep her company. She opened the book that she’d brought and pulled out the love letter that her grandmother had written to her grandfather. The words of longing that her grandmother had penned had seemed utterly foreign to her before, but now she could nearly understand them, though they were mere steam-like wisps to her. Would she ever be so lucky to truly understand the love between a man and a woman?
What she and Mr. Washington had for now was more like a budding friendship. They were strangers a few short hours ago, she reminded herself. Had it really only been three or four hours since they’d met? It felt as though she’d known the man for much longer. She sat with her hands in her lap and peered at the scenery moving past her window. Then she found herself thinking again of all that she’d shared with Mr. Washington. She’d never spoken with anyone like she had with him. His openness and honesty made her open up to him as well. But what if he wanted something from her? What if he was manipulating her?
She shook her head, refusing to believe it about the man. Her hands fisted, and she suddenly found herself standing. Was it silly of her to feel refreshed after only a few minutes? Was it needy of her to want to spend time with Mr. Washington instead of by herself? Then she had a sudden thought that twisted her stomach. Even though he’d said, like a gentleman, that he’d wanted to give her some time to refresh herself, what if he’d really wanted some time alone, without her? What if he didn’t feel at all the same way she did? That sadness that she often had wrenched her heart. What was so special about her? If anything, she was strange—why would any man be interested in a twenty-seven year old spinster who didn’t know anything about the world? She had more fears than she had attributes.
And yet, she found herself standing at her sliding door, reaching for the handle, ready to open the door. Should she? Was she being presumptuous? Selfish? Maybe that was the reality of it. She stepped back. She was being selfish. Part of her didn’t care if he felt the same way she did. She still wanted to spend time with him. However, maybe she could go to the public car under stealth and just peer in on Mr. Washington. She could see if he was resting himself or maybe doing something that would require him to be alone. If he was, then she’d leave him be and return to the car before he ever even noticed. But what if he did notice her? Wouldn’t she need to say she needed him for something? She peered up at the luggage compartment above her head. He’d put her carpet bag up there to give her more space on the bench seat. She reached up toward it, but it was still inches from her fingertips. With a nod, she jumped up, barely hooking the handle and pulling it down from the compartment. Jumping out of the way, she kept the bag from falling directly on her. Some of her belongings scattered a bit, falling out of the open mouth.
After returning her things to the bag, she set it on the bench seat. There was no way that she’d be able to replace the bag up in the luggage compartment. So if he spotted her and asked her if she needed him, she could say that she needed to put the bag back up in the compartment and was unable to do so herself. With a nod, she felt better. When he came to her private room, she could just ask for him to stay, right?
She let out a slow breath and opened the door.
No one stood in the hallway to the left or to the right. They’d gone through the public car on the way to the dining car, so she knew exactly which direction to go. But when she started that way, she heard a shout and then Mr. Washington appeared, holding another man who was nearly as tall and much bigger around the waist than him. The two wrestled, and the man in the three-piece suit reached for Mr. Washington’s weapon. Penelope’s hand fluttered to her lips as she stifled a scream. Screaming wouldn’t help the matter, it would only distract Mr. Washington to know that she was there. And that distraction would be to the fiend who wrestled him’s advantage. But she needed to do something.
If she could think of a way to make the tide turn toward the deputy marshal? She took a step back and then turned about and slid the door open to her compartment. She searched for something heavy that might be used as a weapon, but the only thing she could see was her carpet bag. She picked it up. It was reasonably heavy, but then she picked up her book and placed it in as well.. It would have to do. With determination, she rushed back into the hallway to find the two men still wrestling. And then the man in the three-piece suit got hold of Jeremiah’s gun. Jeremiah backed away, his hands held up in surrender.
“Yes, deputy marshal, it’s best if you just stay like that. I think it’s about time for you to get off this train,” the man said in a gruff voice, his back facing Penelope. “I don’t need to be found out as anything other than another passenger.”
Mr. Washington narrowed his eyes at the fiend. “You expect me to get off this train now, while it’s in motion?”
The man shrugged. “If I shoot you, you’ll be dead. If you get off the train peaceably, you at least have some chance of survival.”
Penelope’s heart raced in her chest as she inched forward toward the man, trying to move silently. Trying to move slowly enough that she didn’t draw anyone’s attention. But just as she lifted her carpetbag, Mr. Washington’s gaze darted toward her and his eyes went wide. The fiend in the three-piece suit began to turn his head. Without wasting another minute, Penelope aimed for
the man’s face and hit him as hard as she could swing with her bag.
And a gunshot rang out.
Chapter 10
This time, Penelope couldn’t hold back the scream. Her ears rang from the gun’s report. Mr. Washington leapt forward, seizing the man and the gun. He wrestled it out of the man in the three-piece suit’s hands and then turned it on him. “That’s enough Earl Cody. Now just sit still.”
Penelope backed away two steps, her hands shaking and her whole body trembling from the core. She searched Mr. Washington, looking for an injury, but saw no blood. Thank God. Then she looked down at her own traveling dress and thought if she had any pain anywhere. No. She was fine. A whistling sound came to her as the ringing in her ears subsided. She looked up and found a small hole just above the window in the hallway, where the stray bullet must have made it’s way.
“Surely, we can come to an agreement, deputy marshal. I have many connections, a lot of money. You can have anything you want right now, if you’re just willing to let me go and forget about all of this.” The man in the three-piece suit had a greasy smile on his face that didn’t seem to account for the situation he was in. This was a man who was used to getting his own way.
Penelope swallowed hard. She believed Mr. Washington to be a man who wouldn’t take such a low offer—a bribe. But would he?
Mr. Washington shook his head slowly. “There’s nothing you have that I want, Cody. The only thing for you now is to return to Yuma.”
The smile slipped from the man’s face as the conductor and several other men arrived in the car behind Penelope. The conductor boomed over the murmuring of the crowd. “What is going on here? I demand to know the meaning of this.”
“I’m a deputy marshal,” Mr. Washington said as he flashed his badge. “And this man is a known fugitive from justice by the name of Earl Cody. I’m going to need your full cooperation to get him contained and need to send word to the marshal’s office in Yuma.”
The murmuring grew in volume as Penelope’s heart swelled in her chest. She felt proud of the man who she’d become friends with in such a short time for being strong in spirit as well in body. When he met eyes with her, the roughness of his features softened for a moment, then they became stony again as his gaze darted back toward Mr. Cody. Penelope’s heart fluttered. Did it seem silly that she grew excited and liked the way he looked at her differently than he did everyone else? She gripped the handles of her carpet bag tighter as men came forward with rope to help truss Mr. Cody.
“Well, now, sirs. It’s nice to make you’re acquiescence. If one of you gentleman would be willing to help me, I’d be happy to—” Mr. Cody’s offer was cut off as Mr. Washington stuffed a handkerchief into the man’s mouth.
“That will be enough out of you. I think it best if you remain silent until the proper authorities retrieve you.” Then Mr. Washington proceeded to tie the gag around the man’s mouth.
Suddenly, Penelope felt very tired. She leaned against the wall of the train car as the excitement from the whole incident wore off. She felt hands on her shoulders, who she hoped where Mr. Washington’s, but instead she met eyes with the conductor. “Are you all right, Miss?”
She blinked up at him. “Oh yes. I just... I’m just a bit tired.”
Mr. Washington’s gaze shot toward her, a frown furrowing his brow. “Miss Warner. You really should get back to your compartment and get some rest.” Then he turned to the men who’d help tie up the criminal. “Keep him here for just a moment.”
Without a glance back, Mr. Washington left the ruffian and came to Penelope’s side, his hands on her elbows. “Allow me to escort you, Miss Warner.”
She nodded and they walked the few steps together back to her private compartment. He opened the door and helped her inside, his hand holding hers as he withdrew the handles of the carpet bag from her and put the item back in the overhead area where it was stored. Then he knelt in front of her with a soft smile on his face. “You are quite something, Miss Warner. An amazing woman, to say the least. Even though you showed a great deal of bravery just now, I’d prefer if you kept yourself safe.”
She took hold of his hand, which had rested upon the seat next to her and held it in both of hers. “I couldn’t just let the man shoot you... or force you off the train.”
His eyes lit up a bit as he put his other hand on both of hers and their hands entwined more. “You definitely stopped that, didn’t you? You must be the bravest woman I’ve ever met, Miss Warner.”
A frown tugged at her lip as her stomach twisted. She blurted, “I’m tired of hearing you call me that.”
Confusion flickered through his eyes. “What do you mean? You are brave.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t mean that. I’m tired of hearing you call me Miss Warner. Please, call me Penelope.”
Jeremiah’s heart swelled in his chest and he grew as warm from head to toe as his hands felt in hers. He’d never believed that he could ever feel so strongly about a woman. Was it possible that he could after only knowing her for a few short hours? She was perfect in every way. And even though she’d just given him permission to call her by her Christian name, it didn’t mean that she felt the same way about him. He shouldn’t let his hopes make him into a blubbering idiot.
And yet, he felt exactly like a blubbering idiot. “Penelope,” he said with a dopey smile that he couldn’t school from his face. “Please, call me Jeremiah.”
“Jeremiah,” she whispered, her eyelids growing heavy as she let out a yawn.
He didn’t think his heart could beat any faster, and yet it raced at the sound of his name on her tongue. He wanted to embrace her and tell her how he felt about her, but he had things he needed to do. Instead, he just squeezed her hands in his. “It’s time for you to get some rest. I’ll return as soon as I can, all right. But you should get some sleep. Lock the compartment as I head out.”
She nodded, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand as she stood with him. He led her back to the compartment door and stepped out. She looked up at him in an unguarded, soft way that made his heart stutter in his chest. It felt like she held nothing back in her expression. If he was reading her eyes correctly, she did feel about him the same as he did about her. And suddenly, he didn’t want to leave. But with a wave of her hand, she mouthed the word, “Goodbye” and then slid the door shut.
Behind him, a man cleared his throat. The conductor said, “What should we do with this Mr. Cody?”
Jeremiah frowned at him. “If there is a private compartment available that I can stay with the man in until we reach the next station? I will watch him there under lock and key.”
“Actually,” the conductor said with furrowed brow. “Mr. Cody had a private compartment reserved for the trip. It’s right here.” He pointed toward a door that was only two down from Penelope’s.
The fiend had been that close to the two of them the whole time? Jeremiah’s hands fisted as indignation rose in his chest. The man was a murderer and a thief and deserved nothing but to stare at the blank walls of a jail cell. How had he gotten out of Yuma, anyway? Instead of voicing any of those words, he nodded toward the door the conductor had referred to. “Put him inside and I will watch him. When will we arrive at the next station?”
The conductor pulled out his watch. “In a quarter hour, we’ll be stopping in Phoenix.”
“Perfect. Do you have pen and paper? I’ll need to send a telegram as soon as we arrive and book passage for the two of us on the next westbound train to Yuma.”
“Right,” the conductor said, pulling a pad of paper and a pen from his jacket pockets.
Quickly, Jeremiah scribbled the words he needed to send on the pad and then returned it to the conductor. “Can you send that out for me as soon as we arrive, or pass it on to a man who can?”
“I will take care of it.”
“Good man,” Jeremiah said as he followed Earl Cody into the small compartment and then slid the door shut behind them. Then he locked i
t and sat on the bench across from the trussed up man in the three-piece suit.
Cody’s glare dripped with venom as he took in Jeremiah. If looks could kill, Jeremiah might have been finished off by that stare. But instead, he refused to let the man’s misfortune get him down.
Then the look in Cody’s face turned pleading. He mumbled something unintelligible that sounded like a request. Jeremiah could easily assume what the man wanted. He shook his head. “There is no way that I’m removing that gag. You and your silver tongue can remain restrained until we return to Yuma. I don’t want you making any more requests of me or any of the passengers that we may meet along the way. It’s for the best.”
The glare returned.
But somehow, Jeremiah felt a lightness in his chest. He couldn’t have been happier and nothing that Earl Cody did was going to take that away from him. He was in love. And when he admitted that to himself, he felt elated. He believed that she loved him too. He couldn’t wait to tell her. His only regret was that he would need to leave her without saying goodbye. She needed the rest she was getting now and didn’t need to be disturbed by his departure. He wished that he could accompany her the rest of the trip, but escorting Mr. Cody back to prison was the right thing for Jeremiah to do. He was going to miss his newfound porcelain doll over the next few days, but when he returned, he intended to make it up to her somehow.
Chapter 11
The summer sun shone down on Penelope’s golden hair and warmed her scalp as she sat in the outdoor patio area, having tea with Miss Seffi Morgan and her daughter-in-law, Vivian. Though her company was lively and perfect she couldn’t help but find her gaze returning toward the people moving along the street as she thought about the man who’d left her alone on the train. She understood why he had to leave, but it still made her heart ache that he didn’t come by to tell her goodbye. She’d been asleep through the rest of that afternoon, waking in the wee hours of the morning, just before sun-up, alone. When she found the conductor, he told her what had happened.