by Rye Hart
Elijah's voice broke the silence, "Look outside! See how fast everything is going," he said in awe.
Marshal climbed up on the seat next to his brother, "I bet we are going faster than daddy's prized stallion!"
"A train can't go as fast as Firestone," argued little Elijah.
"Don't be silly," Marshall chastised. "A horse cannot be as fast as train," he concluded.
"You are wrong, nothing can out race Firestone and daddy," Elijah proclaimed. He stuck his tongue out defiantly at his older brother.
"How do you know that?" Marshall asked hotly.
"Because," Elijah said while pointing out the window, "he is outside right now."
Marianna gasped and turned to look outside.
Elijah was right. A man that looked a lot like Larsen was riding his prized stallion at breakneck speed. And like little Elijah had noticed, he was keeping up with the fast moving train without problem.
Marianna leaned forward and tugged at the window to allow a better look. It slid open and the wind instantly whipped through the cabin.
"Larsen?" Marianna called out to the figure on the speeding horse.
He didn't appear to hear her and, as Marianna realized with horror, he seemed focused on trying to bring his horse as close as possible to the speeding train.
"He is going to jump!" exclaimed Marianna as she realized that Larsen was bringing his horse around at the best angle to jump onto the speeding caboose.
"Whoa," yelled Elijah with triumph. "I told you daddy's horse was the fastest," he turned his nose up at his brother.
Marianna felt like she needed to do something; what Larsen was attempting was insane. She stood up, despite the shooting pain in her thigh and proceeded to hobble toward the caboose where Larsen was trying to jump onto the platform.
"Wait Marianna," James protested.
"Stay with the boys," she instructed. She quickly hurried down the corridor. She knew she had to stop him before he injured himself.
At the end of their passenger car, she slid open the door that separated the more comfortable train car from the caboose. Without hesitation, she grasped the sides of the handles and leapt over the small divide. Her leg stung, but she ignored it. She quickly opened the second door and ran inside.
As soon as she stepped inside, she walked right into a familiar male wall.
Larsen caught her before she could fall back out of the exposed doorway and onto the tracks. "I see you couldn't wait to greet me," he teased.
"Larsen!" she swatted at his thick chest. "How could you risk your life like that to try and jump onto a moving train? What kind of role model is that for your sons," she vented at him with furious intent. She had been so scared that he would fall, and here he was acting like he just came from a casual stroll.
Larsen brought his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. "I decided I couldn't let you make the trip with just James for protection," he said lightly.
"We were doing just fine," she said pertly. "And besides, Marcus is in jail and there is no one after us now," she added.
"Well," he began, "I also realized I forgot something on the train and I needed to come back and get it."
"Oh," Marianna's face fell. "What was it?"
"Little Elijah, Marshal, and you," said laughingly. "Oh and James," he added.
Marianna's eyes grew wide. "You came back for us?"
"As soon as the train left the platform, I knew I had made a mistake. The thing is," he knelt down in front of Marianna, "I can't send my sons away. And since I can't live without them, and they are awfully fond of you, I need you to stay too," he explained.
"You don't need me Larsen," she said softly. "Perhaps it is better if I just return to my home."
"Well, about that," Larsen ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I also have become quite fond of you too, and the thought of living in that house without you makes me feel empty inside."
"Really?" Marianna beamed. "You are fond of me?"
"Maybe a bit more than just fond of you," he winked playfully. "So I am asking you if you will marry me?"
Marianna beamed down at Larsen. She nodded her consent.
In an instant, Larsen was off his knees running one hand around Marianna's waist, while the other caressed her cheek. "I've fallen in love with you, Marianna Wellington," he whispered.
"And I with you," Marianna breathed. She tilted her head back and looked up into Larsen's intense gaze. "Are you going to kiss me now?" she asked boldly.
Larsen growled his response before bringing his lips flush against hers.
Marianna melted against Larsen's strong chest as his arms pulled her closer. She felt him deepen their kiss and all rational thoughts instantly left her mind.
Larsen claimed her mouth with his and their bodies pressed together in a sensual dance.
The conductor's whistle interrupted their moment, signaling that they were coming toward the next stop.
Marianna withdrew and giggled at the interruption. "I'm guessing this will be our stop then," she said.
"About that. I was thinking since we are getting married, I should meet your family." As Larsen spoke, he ran his hand up her back.
"Really?" Marianna exclaimed joyfully. "I've missed them so much and I would love for them to meet you," she gushed.
Larsen chuckled happily. "I would love to meet your family. Besides it might be good for us to start our marriage off with some normalcy, since our courtship so far has been anything but normal."
"Oh you don't say?" Marianna teased. "I thought fire, bandits, and kidnappers were just part of regular life in Texas." She pushed up on her toes and brought her arms around Larsen's strong shoulders.
"Not until you moved there," he teased back.
"Larsen!" she gasped and swatted at him lightly.
"How about we discuss the details later." As he spoke, his eyes grew hooded with veiled promise.
Marianna laughed, "If you say so."
With a content growl, Larsen claimed her lips once again.
Marianna had no idea what the future held for them, but all she knew was that Larsen would be standing next to her no matter where their journey took them. When she had left her home to come out west, she was recovering from a devastating heartache and had thought that she could never love again. But here, wrapped in Larsen's supportive embrace, she knew that this was something special. And while their love was still in its infancy, she had a sneaking suspicion that she had stumbled upon an incredible life-given treasure. She had found that one great love in life that consumed the heart and bound the soul to another individual. Larsen Dover was the soul mate she had always been searching for. She knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt, because he was the one that, in her darkest moment, had guided her into the light and given her the gift of love.
"Larsen," Marianna murmured against his warm lips.
"Mhmm," he mumbled.
"What about your horse?"
Larsen laughed. "He will find is way home. They always do." He brought his hand up to run it under her chin. "Much like people, horses always know when they have found their home, whether it be a place or," his eyes twinkled as he spoke, "a person."
The End
Georgina
Chapter One
"Brilliant! Sheer brilliance. Well done Georgina." Devon Evans clapped her on the back in congratulations.
Georgina had put in her time at the paper for three long years before she was ever recognized as a serious writer. Even then, she still stuck out as an oddity at the Valley Spring's Gazette.
Devon would never have hired a woman had she not bombarded him with "anonymous" articles for years. One day, after the success of yet another one of her unclaimed articles, she had walked into his office, revealed her identity, and demanded a job. Several years later, here she was, being congratulated by the very man that initially doubted her. She earned her place by putting in twice the amount of effort as any man at the Gazette and it showed in the quality of her wor
k.
"Thank you Devon," she nodded toward her boss.
"I especially like how you were able to get the Mayor to admit his own opinion on the new building policy," Devon added as he continued to peruse the article in his hand. "Excellent, just excellent."
Georgina knew now was her chance. "Devon, look, I'm glad you like the piece, but let's not pretend that this story isn't fluff," she stated firmly.
"On the contrary," Devon argued, "what you have here is a fundamental, investigative take-down of —"
"Devon," Georgina interrupted, "please."
Devon sighed. "The guys would be in an uproar if I made you first writer and gave you the pick of the stories," he explained.
"Devon," Georgina interjected more force into her voice. "I have put three years into this paper. I deserve that spot, and you know it."
"Georgie," Devon said softly. He set the paper down and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose as if he was distressed. "I acknowledge your part in the success of this company, but you also must know that my hands are tied on the matter." He continued, "It was hard enough convincing the boss to hire a woman, but to give her first writer's status is impossible."
"I see," Georgina said stiffly, she'd been prepared for this. "I would like to thank you for the opportunity you have given me at the paper, but please accept this as my formal resignation." She quickly turned on her heels and headed toward the door.
"Georgie, don't be like this," Devon groaned.
"Goodbye Devon," she said with cool formality.
Georgina felt flushed with the excitement of her bold move, but there was no turning back now. If they aren't going to treat me with respect, they don't deserve my work, she resolved to herself.
"Georgina, wait!" Devon called to her as the sound of him following echoed off the thin walls. "Look, I have a story for you."
"Don't even try to pacify me," Georgina cut him off.
"Please Georgie, you are the one that is qualified to take this assignment. It requires your unique investigative abilities!" he said.
"Don't try to flatter me Devon." Georgina had had enough of his games.
"No, really, just let me explain," he tried again.
Georgina paused; Devon had a way of wearing her down. She figured it couldn't hurt to at least listen to his proposal. "Go on," she nodded.
"Well this assignment requires a female journalist to investigate a case regarding a girl that has recently gone missing," Devon said in a rush.
"Why a female journalist?" Georgina questioned.
"Because she went missing en-route to California as a mail order bride," he explained. "Part of the investigation requires a woman to go undercover as a potential bride, in order to investigate the matchmaking company the girl had signed on with."
"So let me get this straight. You are asking me to pose as a mail order bride in order to retrace the steps of a missing girl as a way of discovering what happened to her?"
"Err, in a way. You will pose as a bride, interview the people responsible for her trip, and hopefully discover what happened to her before reaching her destination," Devon explained.
"I don't know Devon, this seems like a job for the authorities," Georgina expressed.
"That's just the thing. The girl's father, a Mr. Barrington, is a prominent businessman here in town. He had hired a private investigator to try and track her down, but so far all he knows is that she made it to San Francisco before she vanished."
"And how will a journalist help?" Georgina pressed.
"He thinks writing a story about his daughter Mia's situation, will help expose the individuals responsible for her disappearance and hopefully bring his daughter back."
"Well it definitely sounds interesting," Georgina said, "but why should I take it on?"
"Because a story like that will attract more national attention, and if your story was picked up by a larger newspapers, like Boston or New York, not only will the Gazette get the attention we deserve, but you will finally gain the recognition deserving of your talent," Devon said with a glint in his eye.
"I don't know Devon, this whole thing just doesn't feel right."
"Possibly saving a girl's life? How could anything not be more right?" Devon argued.
Georgina paused before she gave her final reply on the subject. While her mind responded positively to the prospect of writing the type of story that would gain her the recognition she needed to push her journalistic career forward, her gut told her something was not quite right about the whole thing.
"How about I help you decide," Devon's voice broke through her thoughts. "If you take the story, I will make you first writer."
Georgina wondered why Devon was so invested in the story that he would change his tune about promoting her so quickly. But regardless of motive — and the nagging feeling that something was a bit off — Georgina decided to take a chance on the opportunity.
"I'll do it," she relented.
Chapter Two
Georgina's doubts about agreeing to pose as a mail order bride only escalated the closer she got to San Francisco. She never felt more out of place in her life, and she had worked at an all male newspaper company for the past three years.
Nothing could have prepared her for the experience of being one of the brides for Distant Heart Matchmaking, the recruiting company that Mia Barrington had signed on to before her disappearance.
However, Georgina was here on a mission, and that was to find out what happened to Mia Barrington, write the best investigative exposé on the subject, and hopefully receive national acclaim deserving of the work. As she stepped off the train platform and moved toward the little group of potential brides she was pretending to belong to, she felt euphoric with the prospects that were opening up for her.
"Now ladies, we have arrangements at Levinston's Hotel where you will be introduced to your predetermined matches," Mabel Blighton, the chaperone for the recruits, clapped excitedly.
Georgina froze. Devon said nothing about her actually meeting a husband. He had told her that she would be undercover when she traveled and he would make all necessary arrangements for her when she arrived. Obviously, this was a mistake.
Georgina made her way toward the chaperone. "Excuse me," she interrupted Mabel as the woman gave another flourish of excitement about the prospects of marriage. "I think there might have been a mistake."
Mabel cut her off with a sharp look. "Distant Heart Matchmaking does not make any mistakes," she spoke without allowing Georgina to finish. "You will be given enough time to freshen up at the hotel before your new husband arrives to take you to your new home," she stated curtly before turning away.
Georgina was taken aback by her abruptness. When she had agreed to the terms, she had been under the impression that she would be provided with private accommodations and the whole 'husband' part would be optional if she so chose.
Well, Georgina thought to herself, perhaps once we arrive at the hotel it will be sorted out there. Yet despite her attempts to resolve her worries, she still had a sinking feeling that something was not quite right.
Chapter Three
"Are you sure there are no reservations under Wellington?" she asked the front desk attendant as her nervousness began to rise.
"No ma'am. There are no reservations under that name," the young man replied.
"Check again!" Georgina's voice broke. "Or perhaps under Devon Evans?"
The man checked the books again. "I'm sorry, there are no reservations under that name either." His eyes expressed genuine sympathy.
Georgina felt frantic. She would have pressed the attendant to check again, had a manager not sent a curious look her way. With a heavy reluctance, she moved away from the desk.
The company had reserved several rooms for the afternoon, but not for the night, and especially not for the several weeks Georgina was hoping to stay for. A panic rose in her, as she had not brought a lot of funds for her trip. She had enough to pay for a few expenses, but she had be
en under the impression that a charge account would have been set up at the hotel. She had a return ticket booked, but her pride did not allow her to give up just because she was unable to procure lodgings. Especially when she didn't have anything resembling the headline grabbing story she was hoping to bring back.
Georgina, you are smarter than this, she silently tried to comfort herself. She knew she needed to come up with a plan, she just didn't know what that would be yet.
As she started to walk back toward the small group of women, something caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, handsome man with sandy blonde hair talking to the front desk attendant. The man was dressed in a faded suit, but still appeared dashing in it nonetheless. However, it wasn't his incredible looks that drew her attention, but what he said to the attendant.
"I wish to drop off a letter for Mia Barrington," he requested.
"I am sorry sir, but Ms. Barrington no longer resides here," the young attendant informed the mysterious man.
"Did she leave an address that I might forward the letter to her?" he pressed.
Georgina strained to hear the attendant's answer. This could be it, she thought excitedly.
"Ms. Wellington," Mabel's shrill voice bombarded her and momentarily distracted her from the conversation on which she was eavesdropping. "Are you going to present yourself to your new husband in the same clothes you wore to travel here?" she asked aghast.
Georgina had been too busy interrogating the front desk clerk to worry about how she looked. "He will just have to take me as is," she laughed. She wasn't here for a husband, and she would only keep up the farce as long as she needed to get the information she wanted. Besides, it appeared that the hotel records might have the information she needed to bring this mystery to a close. She just needed to find a way to get ahold of them.
Mabel gasped, but Georgina paid no attention. She had missed the attendant's answer and now she strained to catch whatever was left of the conversation.
"Thank you for your time," the mysterious man thanked the clerk and turned around to leave.