by Jodi Thomas
Suddenly everyone in the compartment seemed to move at once. A redheaded woman in the last bench rose like a warring Amazon and attacked the unlucky bandit left guarding the back exit. She grabbed a hatbox from the rack and swung it at him. He fought her off as he tried to raise his gun and aim.
But the tiny woman Jennie had noticed sleeping on the back bench cocooned in a wine-colored coat suddenly came alive to defend her friend.
“Get down, Audrey!” the tiny woman shouted as she pulled a Patterson pocket pistol from her coat. “Drop that gun, mister, or you’re a dead man!” The little gun shook in her hands while she tried to aim.
As her petite partner stepped forward, the other woman hit the floor none too gently. “Go ahead and shoot him, Delta!” the redhead yelled.
When the cold metal barrel pushed against his forehead, fear widened the robber’s eyes. He dropped his gun and raised his arms in slow motion, surrendering to a woman half his size.
Near the front of the car Marshal McCormick lifted the leader to his feet. The outlaw still held his fist to his nose, fighting to stop the blood gushing over his unruly mustache. Austin jammed a gun into the man’s ribs and shoved the bandit toward the front of the car. “Tell your friends it’s over, partner, or your lungs will be having new holes to breath through.”
The robber’s eyes glinted graveyard cold. “You wouldn’t shoot me in front of the women.”
Austin twisted the man so he could see the back of the car, where a small blonde held a pistol on another gang member. “Hell, if I don’t, she will.”
Both men looked around the car. All of the once-frightened passengers were angry. The petrified young ladies who’d screamed in fear when the bandit fell against them now inspected their blood-spattered traveling dresses and stormed with revenge. It looked as if any one of the passengers would gladly have served as hangman at a moment’s notice.
“See a friendly face?” Austin asked.
The man turned toward the door and yelled, “Frank, let the engineer go! We’re done for. It’s over.”
“Tell all your men to come out with their hands high,” Austin ordered as he shoved the man forward.
The command was followed. Robbers, little older than boys, stepped from the train.
The conductor and several other men moved slowly in front of them to collect weapons.
Austin turned to Jennie as he reached the exit. “I’m not through talking to you, lady.” His eyes were still stormy.
It frightened her to know that catching the robbers had been little more than a day’s work for him. She was the cause of his angry stare.
Jennie could sense everyone on the train watching her. “Well, I’m through talking to you, Marshal McCormick.” She lifted her chin, irritated by his words and the way he’d made her feel. “Did you find it necessary to shatter that poor man’s nose for interrupting our discussion, or were you actually trying to do your duty?”
Austin’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You’re the one who wanted to shoot them, remember? Besides, we weren’t having a discussion, lady. We were having an argument. I’m mighty sorry the train robbery got in the way, but as soon as I get these men tied up and doctored, I’ll be back to finish what you started.”
“I have no intention of talking with you further, Marshal.”
“Good!” Austin pushed his prisoner forward. “‘Cause all you need to do is listen. I plan on doing all the talking.”
Chapter 4
Lend me a hand. This girl’s been shot!” the redheaded woman in the back screamed above the train’s long whistle.
Jennie twisted in her seat as everyone between her and the back of the train jumped to offer aid.
“Quiet, Audrey,” the petite blonde beside the shouting woman insisted as folks moved closer. “It’s nothing. Only a scratch.”
Someone in the crowd shouted, “Look, there’s blood all over her coat!”
Another yelled, “We oughta string them fellas up!”
Jennie raised one eyebrow at the marshal, who was about to take his place on their shared bench. She didn’t give him time to sit down. “Don’t you think you’d better investigate?” How could he be so calm, when the girl was wounded? Jennie wondered if folks often had to explain the marshal’s duty to him or if he’d simply lost his senses this trip. She decided the man could have driven a temperance leader to drink. He had the oddest habit of getting riled over nothing and looking at the shocking with indifferent eyes.
She’d hoped to be at the final stop before he made it back to his place beside her, so she wouldn’t have to answer any questions about the child beneath her seat. Her luck had held to within a few miles of Florence, Kansas. The train was already slowing for the last bend when he stormed into the car. His gaze never wavered from her face, leaving no doubt that he planned to finish their argument.
Now, while everyone in the car was talking about the wounded girl, Austin McCormick turned his dark gaze toward Jennie. “I don’t remember anyone dying and leaving me in charge of this train, lady. Why is it every time something happens, you nominate me to do something about it?”
“But you’re a federal marshal!”
“On leave, lady. Hell, when I pick up my orders in Florence, I may be going back to punching cows in Texas. Meeting a few more women like yourself would sure make those lonely drives seem more appealing. You’ve taken up trying to run my life faster than a babe takes to a mother’s milk.”
Jennie didn’t try to hide the impatience in her voice. “We have to do something to help if that woman’s been shot. I’m not surprised someone was hurt with as many bullets as there were flying through this car. We have to at least stop any bleeding until we can get her to a doctor.”
Austin opened his mouth to argue, then closed it in frustration, realizing that the spinster beside him was right, much as he hated to admit it. “Not we, lady, me. Why don’t you try to stay out of this one? You caused enough problems during the robbery.” He turned and stepped into the aisle.
“Me!” Jennie fought the urge to take a swing at his back. For a half cent, she’d have given him the dressing down he deserved, but right now she had to consider the advantage of having him as far away from her as possible. So she remained silent as he moved down the aisle toward the wounded girl.
Jennie watched him disappear into the crowd of people who’d surrounded the last few benches at the back of the car. “Now!” She grabbed hold of the child’s hand and pulled True from under the seat. “We’ve got to get you off before anyone sees you.”
True’s tiny hand held on tightly, surprising Jennie with its strength. They moved along the aisle toward the front entrance. The passengers were too busy trying to see who’d been shot, or packing up preparing to leave the train, to pay them any notice.
Jennie was on the platform between cars even before the train stopped. She could see the conductor leaning out several cars down, but chances were he’d be too preoccupied with the robbers to notice True slipping off before anyone else.
“As soon as the train stops, jump and run hide among the boxes.” Jennie looked down at the child, wishing she could clean off a few pounds of grit from True’s face.
“I can take care of myself, ma’am,” True whispered, but didn’t lighten the hold on Jennie’s hand.
Jennie smiled into the bravest eyes she’d ever seen. “I know you can, True. I was kind of hoping you’d take care of me. You see, this is the first time I’ve ever been away from home, and Florence, Kansas, looks like the end of the world. I’m not sure I can make it on my own.”
True stood an inch taller. “Well, why didn’t you say so, ma’am? I’d be mighty glad to teach you.”
“You’re not afraid?” Jennie saw the unshed tears in the child’s eyes. True was such a tiny thing to be out in the world alone.
“No, ma’am,” True answered. “I got a guardian angel looking after me. My ma said she’d point one in my direction just as soon as she got to Heaven.”
Jennie wanted to say that the angel must be taking his time finding True, but she didn’t trust her own voice not to break. She studied the stacks of boxes along the platform, looking for a place for True to hide. Finally, she found an opening in the supplies.
“Do you think you could run when the train stops and crawl in between those crates and stay there until I can come back for you?”
True nodded, following Jennie’s gaze.
Kneeling, Jennie whispered, “Could you give me a hug to help me not be so afraid until I see you again? It may take me until after dark before I can get back to you.”
Thin arms no wider than a yearling willow circled Jennie’s neck. “I’ll wait,” True whispered. “I’ll wait until you come for me even if it takes all night. But don’t worry none about me, ma’am. I’ll be waiting just to see if I can help you.”
Suddenly Jennie forgot about the layered dirt on True’s face. She hugged the child tightly and kissed the dirty cheek as she’d always longed to do with a child of her own. “Go,” Jennie whispered, pulling away. “And may the angel protect you.”
True quickly jumped from the train and disappeared into the wall of boxes. Jennie stood, feeling suddenly cold and very alone. She couldn’t help but wonder if True could take better care of them both than she could, for the past hour had frightened her more than she’d ever allow anyone to know.
For a moment she watched, making sure True wasn’t seen. But all attention was drawn to the other end of the car, where Marshal McCormick carried the wounded woman off the train. Jennie could hear several conversations at once. Some repeated the injured girl’s name, Delta Smith. Others assured friends the injury had probably only been a flesh wound, nothing more. Jennie was thankful that the woman’s injury was no more serious and that Delta Smith had gotten the bothersome marshal out of her way.
Jennie could never remember being affected so strongly by a person. She thought for a moment she’d seen a hero’s spirit in his eyes; but, thanks to her dime novels, she knew what a true hero should be. And to her way of thinking, Marshal Austin McCormick had a long way to go.
As he carried the girl into the depot at Florence, he looked tall and powerful, but there was no human softness in him. No touch of tenderness blended with the steel it took to be a real hero. He was doing a job, nothing more.
Jennie moved along with the crowd of other Harvey employees from the station toward a huge hotel to the south of the depot. Everyone talked and laughed, advancing like a swarm of bees upon a new hive, but she didn’t even look up for several steps. Her thoughts were on a child hidden between boxes. A child who had somehow stolen her heart.
When she finally looked up, Jennie could hardly believe the sight before her. The first full-service Harvey House loomed ahead, a massive place designed not only to feed travelers, but put them up for the night. The hotel had been built in a wooded area and was bigger than she’d guessed. Twin fountains banked the entrance to the two-story building, adding a touch of Fred Harvey’s England in this small Kansas town.
A man in a red cap stepped onto the porch and sounded a golden gong to silence the crowds. “Welcome!” he shouted. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Clifton House. You’ll all be shown your rooms later, and tomorrow you’ll become Harvey employees, but this evening we invite you to be our guests for dinner at the finest restaurant west of the Mississippi.”
Jennie expected to see a mass rush to the dining hall and eating counters after the poor food they’d had along the trip, but everyone hesitated. Maybe it was the size of the place, or maybe it was the first time most of these people had been treated like guests in a fine home. A reverence settled over the future employees. The men held the doors for the women. Girls who’d never been treated with the respect accorded a lady back home suddenly straightened their hats and squared their shoulders in pride.
The men were all something more than farmers and workers now. They were Harvey employees. The women were more than chambermaids and seamstresses. They were Harvey girls and as such must be polite and proper. After all, Fred Harvey wasn’t only bringing fine food to the West, he was bringing civilization.
Something else blended among the crowd. A feeling of family, an invisible bond that forms between people who work together to be the best they can be.
As Jennie entered the foyer, she couldn’t deny the feeling of coming home. The wood was polished and warm, the glass crystal clean. The Clifton House was a grand queen opening her arms to new subjects.
The smell of roasted chickens and baked cinnamon apples blended with the aroma of fresh bread, making Jennie reluctant to breathe out. The hotel was warm on this cold January night, warm with steamed heat as well as friendliness. The sounds of dinnertime floated like a healing prayer across her tired, hungry body.
A plump woman of about fifty stood at the counter just outside the dining room. She took down each person’s name as he or she passed. Jennie could see the people moving by her to register, but she remained frozen, afraid her dream would shatter at any moment and she’d be back in her parents’ home with nothing but sameness to look forward to. She was afraid someone would stop her and tell her to go back home because she didn’t belong here.
When the hall had cleared, the older woman looked up at Jennie, her quiet smile genuine, her water-colored eyes understanding. “I’m Mrs. Gray, the head waitress. May I have your name, miss, and the names of those you’d like to room with? We’ll try to have your room ready by the time you finish eating.”
“Jennie Munday,” Jennie whispered, suspecting that this woman didn’t even notice her age or height, but looked straight into her soul.
“And the two women you’d like to share a room with?”
Jennie glanced around and realized everyone else had already molded into small groups. By not taking the time to meet anyone on the train, she had now left herself out of getting a roommate.
“I’m …” Jennie didn’t want to use the word alone again as long as she lived. She’d always been alone. Even with her brothers and sisters, she’d always been treated as an outsider. Suddenly the wounded girl and her friend came to mind. Since they were the only two who’d stayed at the train station with the marshal, they must need a third to fill their room. “I’m rooming with a girl who was injured during the train robbery, Delta Smith.”
The older woman nodded. She’d already heard bits and pieces of the story. As a good waitress, she’d learned years ago to put the pieces together in her mind without taking the time to ask questions. “And the third girl?” she asked.
“Audrey.” Jennie remembered hearing the tall redhead’s name. “I’m afraid I don’t know her last name. She stayed behind with Delta.”
“Audrey will be fine. I’m sure we’ll find out later. Now, you go on in and make yourself comfortable while I get everything ready.”
Jennie hadn’t eaten all day, but the thought of True waiting alone down by the depot made her force the hunger pains aside. “Do you think I might help with preparing the room? Then, when Delta gets here, we can put her straight to bed. She’s lost a great deal of blood.”
Mrs. Gray nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll send a meal up for three.” She looked at Jennie with a direct honesty. “That was very thoughtful. You’ll be an asset to Clifton House, Miss Munday.”
“I hope to be.” Jennie followed the old woman up the stairs, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for lying. “As soon as the room’s ready, I’d like to run back down to the station and check on Delta.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Gray opened the first door. “This room’s a little larger than the others. I think you and your friends will be most comfortable in here.”
Jennie held her smile as Mrs. Gray directed girls to make up the three beds immediately.
While the girls worked, Jennie moved to the tall window. She watched the evening shadows fall across the depot a hundred yards away.
She’d be safe here at the Clifton House, maybe as safe as she’d always been i
n her parents’ home. But safety weighed lightly against her need to help True. To do so, she had to get back to the depot and somehow avoid Marshal Austin McCormick.
Chapter 5
The pale light of a winter sunset reflected through the windows of the depot and danced in beams of dust around the ticket office. One of the railroad employees had stoked the Franklin stove and stacked blankets atop a bench for Delta to lie on. Nothing seems more silent than a depot after the last train leaves, and that night’s quiet was broken only by the marshal’s pacing as they waited.
Austin pulled on his gunbelt more out of habit than the need to relieve his hips of the weight of his Colt Peacemaker. “Doctor’ll be here in a minute, miss,” he said to the redheaded woman guarding the patient, then nodded at the slight blonde cuddled amid the blankets. She didn’t seem in any great pain, but Austin had learned from years of handling wounded that the injury’s seriousness and the amount of complaining were not always related.
“Thank you, Marshal,” answered the tall woman. “In all the commotion, after the robbery attempt, I didn’t show my upbringing and properly introduce myself. Name’s Audrey Gates of the Flatwater, Missouri, Gates.”
Austin couldn’t hide his smile. He always wondered about folks who introduced themselves by their heritage. She was a fine-looking woman, though. Not the type to be courted with flowers and pretty words. More the sort some farmer would marry to help with the chores and rear a half dozen children. He admired this Audrey Gates, though, for her bold beauty and her loyalty to her friend. Loyalty was one trait he’d found in short supply among the few women he’d known, almost as rare as honesty.
His smile was all the encouragement Audrey needed to continue, “And this poor victim is my dearest friend, Delta Smith. She grew up not more than three miles from me, but I was several rows ahead of her in school.”