by E. E. Burke
He might try to inspire a blush or two before they reached their destination. “You made a good argument. Convincing.”
She looked at him, quizzically. “Why do I get the impression that I haven’t changed your mind at all?”
He must remember to be scrupulously honest, as she had been with him. “Oh, I’d say you’ve strengthened my commitment to universal suffrage.”
“So you aren’t opposed to it, you were just arguing for the sake of argument?”
“For the sake of getting to know you better, and to see if you could trounce me in a debate.”
“Of course I can.”
“Ma’am, I admire your confidence.” He also admired her lovely gray eyes, pert nose and luscious lips, all of which he intended to pay homage to later. He would admit to being just a hair smitten, even though he knew better than to hand over his heart—what little remained of it.
She straightened her skirts for the umpteenth time. When he moved his leg, she shifted her knees to avoid contact. He found amusement in her attempts to avoid having even their clothing touch. Her dress, which he assumed was the nicest one she owned, had to be at least ten years out of style. She deserved to have a pretty, new dress, and he would enjoy spoiling her.
“After we’re finished with railroad business, we can take a little extra time to look around the shops. Baxter Springs is a much larger town than Centralia.”
“Every town is a much larger town.” Her bright laugh evoked a yearning within him to see her laugh more often. “You can fit all of Centralia into two railroad cars.”
“Not counting the saloons and the—”
“Yes, not counting those either.”
If she couldn’t say the word brothel, she was a proper lady, no question about it. He checked his pocket watch. “Thirty minutes and we’ll be there.”
“What is on the agenda?”
“A meeting with the construction foreman for an update on exactly when and where they crossed the border.” Ross glanced out the window at the sunbaked prairie. A hunger swept over him for the sight of mesquite and juniper. He longed for home, and for someone to share it with.
“Do you like wide open spaces?”
She glanced out the window. “I grew up in a city, so I’ve never really seen anything like this land before. I do like it though.”
“You should see Texas; the land there is more rugged. The hills are covered in grass, not quite as tall as this, mixed with mesquites and junipers. It’s a wild land, sometimes cruel, but also beautiful.”
“Why did you leave, when you obviously love it?”
Ross flipped the watch over in his hand and rubbed his thumb over his grandfather’s initials. He’d been tempted to return the timepiece to his father and keep nothing that reminded him of his past. But he couldn’t bring himself to part with it. Neither could he let go of who he was—a Texan and a rancher. “I had a falling out with my father.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She leaned forward, actually moving toward him for the first time. “I became estranged from my father too, an irreparable break. I understand how painful that can be. What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Where did he start? With his mother’s devastating death, his pa’s resentful second wife, or maybe he could begin with his jealous half-brother, or even his own stubborn pride? “For as long as I can remember, we locked horns over pretty much everything, including my decision to enlist and fight for the Union.”
“He supported the Confederacy?”
“He didn’t want me serving with any army. He ordered me to stay home and help him keep the ranch going. I was young and brash and determined to get into the fight, and my conscience told me I had to fight for a unified country and freedom for every man.”
“I would’ve been proud of you.” Her admiring smile soothed an old wound. If only Susannah had been the one he’d fallen in love with instead of the woman who’d taken his heart and destroyed it.
“After the war, I went home. That’s when my father informed me that he was grooming my half-brother Charles to take over. I also discovered the woman who’d promised to marry me had decided instead to wed the brother who stood to inherit.” Ross looked away, unwilling to accept the sympathy in Susannah’s gaze. He didn’t want her pity. That chapter in his life was over, and good riddance. “I consider myself lucky to have escaped a grasping, faithless woman. I was offered a job as a surveyor for the Union Pacific, so I took it. That path eventually led me here.”
“Do you think you’ll return to Texas someday?”
Ross wasn’t sure how much to tell her. If he came out and said his father had ordered him to marry, she’d assume that was the only reason he was courting her and wouldn’t believe him if he told her otherwise. He’d only recently admitted to himself this desire to pursue her. He hadn’t thought he had a chance. Now that she’d given him one, he didn’t want to ruin it.
“I received a letter from my father this past week, though I hadn’t heard from him for five years. He said Charles couldn’t handle the ranch and went off to search for gold, and took Olivia with him. I’m betting Pa finally saw what I knew a long time ago—my brother doesn’t have a heart for ranching, and his wife is only interested in being rich and spoiled—and he drove them off. Now he wants me to come back and take over.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?”
“I’ll admit it’s tempting.” Ross shifted to the edge of the seat, bringing their knees closer. Susannah didn’t move away this time, which encouraged him to keep talking. It surprised him how much he wanted to talk, and how eager he was to share his life and future plans.
“We started out with a small herd of longhorns and a few dozen horses. Pa got the idea to import Eastern breeds to improve our stock. The war disrupted everything. But now, with the railroads being built, there’s more opportunity than ever—if you have the will to take it.”
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I don’t doubt you have the necessary will. I’ve never met a more willful man.”
She couldn’t know how true that statement actually was, particularly when it came to winning her.
“No, I doubt you have.”
“Tell me more about your plans.”
She kept fiddling with the fan in her lap, opening and shutting it. That meant…what? Kiss me? No, she surely wasn’t intending to communicate using her fan the way he’d seen debutantes do. But if so, then he was doing much better than he’d anticipated. He could take her hand and see whether she was open to it. If she didn’t resist, he’d venture a much bolder move—
The train lurched at the same time a loud squealing came from the brakes.
Ross quickly braced himself, or he would’ve ended up in Susannah’s lap. He’d much rather be holding her on his lap.
Susannah clung to the side of the bench. “What on earth! Why are we stopping out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Something is probably on the tracks ahead.” Lousy timing. Ross grabbed the back of the seat and stood to peer out the window. Coming up alongside the train were men on horseback and in wagons; some carried rifles, others had pitchforks and plow blades. His blood ran cold as he recalled Val’s warning about an attack.
“What is it?”
Damnation! He should’ve anticipated something like this might happen and not brought her along. Possibly, the settlers only intended to vandalize the train by dumping rails off the flatbed and emptying boxcars of construction supplies. Most of the rioting involved property destruction as a means to intimidate the railroad. Still, he couldn’t take the chance. He had to protect Susannah.
“Not sure, but keep your head down and stay away from the windows.”
Her cheeks lost some of their rosy color. He half-expected her to burst into frightened tears, or at the very least to pepper him with questions. Instead, she slid off the bench onto her knees and ducked low.
Beautiful, smart, and she kept her wits about her. He couldn’t think of a more
perfect bride to take home to Texas.
He retrieved the repeating rifle mounted on the wall and pulled open a desk drawer where the bullets were kept. Even with extra ammunition, he knew he couldn’t hold off that many men by himself. He didn’t want to leave her, but he’d stand a better chance at driving them away with the help of the crew. Not only that, he needed to draw fire away from this car, the only one with a passenger.
“We have to get moving again. I’ll see if it’s possible to clear the tracks of whatever’s obstructing the train. Lock the doors behind me. If you hear three quick raps, twice, with a pause in between, you’ll know it’s safe to let me in.” He wouldn’t leave her defenseless. Ross took a small pistol from the desk, checked to make sure it was loaded, and handed it to her. “If anyone breaks in, shoot him.”
She stared with horror at the gun. “I can’t shoot a man.”
“You can if your life depends on it, believe me.”
What little color was left drained from her face. She took the gun, and he prayed she would find the strength to shoot it if necessary.
“I won’t be gone long,” he assured her.
Inching the door open, he peered outside and heard shouting. Black smoke from the locomotive obscured his view, but it would obscure the settlers’ view too. As he descended the steps to the opposite side of the train, the shouting grew louder. Someone issued orders to take the cab and tie up the crew. How had they known this supply train would be coming through? It wasn’t on any schedule.
Ross checked beneath the train to make sure no one had seen him and then ran like hell toward the locomotive. Given the potential for trouble with settlers, Indians, and bandits, every man who worked for the railroad carried a gun. That meant at least three other men—the engineer, fireman and brakeman—had weapons. Two of them would be holed up in the cab. Should someone try to rush the train, they had orders to shoot.
As soon as he reached the locomotive, Ross spotted the reason for the unexpected stop—a tepee-shaped bonfire built from railroad ties had been lit on the tracks. After calling out so the men inside would know it was him, he swung up into the partially open cab. Crouched beneath shoulder-high open windows, the engineer and fireman had rifles at the ready. The thugs would show up any moment.
“Where’s our brakeman?”
“Somewhere up top. Kelly’s got a gun, and he’ll shoot ’em if they try to board us.”
Ross shook his head. “He can’t hold them all off. There’s too many.”
“How many?” The fireman’s soot-blackened face scrunched in a worried frown.
“I counted ten. There may be more, no telling how many have firearms. Can we plow through that bonfire?”
The engineer looked doubtful, but he nodded. “I can ram it and take ’er through. But if they tore up the track to get the ties, it’ll derail us.”
Tearing up ties would be backbreaking work, and why set a fire if the train would be derailed anyway? The ties had to be stolen, and were being used as a diversion to give the settlers time to board the train.
“Fire the engine and get ready. I’ll go and check. If I give a wave, you’ll know it’s safe to charge through.”
“What about you?”
Someone had to defend the train. Ross stepped down from the cab with a firm grip on his rifle. “I’ll find a way to keep those men busy until you’re clear. If possible, I’ll jump aboard before the train passes.”
The engineer arched an eyebrow in obvious disbelief. “If not?”
“Then I’ll look for a place to hide. You get the hell out of here—and make sure Mrs. Braddock gets home safely.”
* * *
Gunshots rang out.
Susannah remained huddled between the benches. The bullets hadn’t shattered the glass windows, as she’d feared. Maybe they were shooting elsewhere—at Ross—or he was shooting at them, whoever they were. Before he’d told her to keep her head down, she’d glimpsed straw hats and what looked like a hay wagon loaded with human cargo.
Were they settlers? Bandits? She hadn’t gotten a chance to ask. Not that it mattered. They were up to no good, and that was all she needed to know.
A loud thud came from the landing outside. The door rattled as someone tried to get in. If it were Ross, he would’ve rapped in quick succession, or at least called out. He’d been gone for a while, possibly only minutes, but it seemed like hours.
They needed to get the train moving again, and she trusted he could do it. For some reason, she believed he could move heaven and earth, should he deem it necessary, which was just plain crazy. Ross was a man. He didn’t have extraordinary powers.
Terrified, Susannah gripped the pistol in her shaking hands. If one of those attackers did manage to get in, she wouldn’t be able to hit him, even if she could bring herself to pull the trigger.
The car heaved and the train began to move. At last!
She blinked back tears that sprang to her eyes. Whatever the obstacle, Ross had taken care of it, just as he said he would. That might be him out there now.
As she crawled toward the door, another shot rang out, and the rattling stopped. Her heart leapt into her airway. What if Ross had been trying to get in and someone shot him? For all she knew, he was out there on the landing, dead or bleeding, and she was cowering in here, being useless.
The voices outside grew louder and more excited. Gunfire erupted again. Glass shattered.
She screamed and covered her head, squeezed her eyes closed and prayed for speed and Ross’s safety.
The gunshots continued until she heard a roaring sound, followed by thunder, or what sounded like thunder. Thick black smoke streamed past the car and some of it blew inside through the shattered window. Glowing embers swirled about the cabin, and she rushed to put them out before they caught on the upholstery.
What had caused that sound and all the smoke?
After a moment, she ventured to a window and peeked out. Grassy landscape rushed by. Relieved, she sank onto the bench, shivering despite the heat in the car from all the smoke. They’d escaped, so it seemed.
But where was Ross?
She swallowed to stop the sick churning in her stomach. He’d told her not to open the door until he knocked, but she just had to see if that had been him before, if he was out there, needing help.
Unlatching the door, she opened it a crack and peeked out. Seeing no one, she dared opening the door wider and, still holding the pistol, stepped out onto the landing. She grasped the rail and leaned over to look along the side. The attackers were far behind and they didn’t appear to be following.
A creak and a thump sounded behind her.
With a gasp, she whirled around, gun raised.
A tall man in the smoke and shadows knocked her hand into the air. The gun went off with an ear-splitting bang, and a pungent puff blew into her eyes and up her nose.
“Criminy—it’s me, Susannah!”
“Ross?” She blinked to clear the stinging from her eyes.
He dragged her inside and slammed the door shut, laid his rifle across the desk, then plucked the still-smoking pistol from her nerveless fingers and dropped it into a drawer. “I told you to stay put.”
The wind coming in through the shattered window sent strands of black hair across his frown. His coat was burned in places, ruined, and his face had a pale cast, despite being smeared with soot. He looked as if he’d walked through fire.
Her hand shook as she reached up to touch his cheek, needing assurance that he was alive and well. He grasped her wrist and dragged her to him, then slipped an arm around her waist and bent his head. Like him, the kiss was fierce and unyielding…and tinged with desperation.
She couldn’t resist any more than she’d been able to prevent him from barging into her life and taking control. In between kisses, she gasped. “What happened?”
“Later, I’ll tell you…” He tilted his head the other direction and slanted his lips against hers, as if he wanted to sample her mouth from every
angle. While he kissed her, he untied the ribbons beneath her chin, removed her bonnet and went for the pins holding her hair.
His passion fed hers and strengthened it. With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair, which was surprisingly soft and silky. Touching him unlocked a wellspring of pent-up desire, releasing the sensual side of her personality she’d thought she had suppressed.
He kissed her until her lips felt swollen. Delving deeper, he explored the inside of her mouth, teasing her tongue to engage her in an indecent wrestling match. Holding her tight, he leaned over and she was forced to arch her back. As he kissed a burning path down her throat, he palmed her breasts, making them tingle and ache, until she was gasping for breath.
She knew where this was leading, yet felt powerless to resist. He dominated and overwhelmed her, and made it clear he would take what he wanted. He would take and take until she had nothing left to give. Fear cooled her heated passion. She broke off the kiss and struggled to stand up.
“Trust me,” he whispered against her cheek. As tempting as it was to let him have his way, she couldn’t, knowing where blind trust could lead. Never would she again put that kind of trust in anyone.
She pushed hard against what seemed an immovable object. “Let me go!”
He stood and lifted her from the awkward position, gathering her against him, began to rub her back. “Easy now, it’s all right. You’re safe,” he murmured, and kissed the top of her head. His gentleness was her undoing.
She wrapped her arms around him, and with her cheek pressed against his coat, hugged him tight. Her body still quivered, and the needy ache he’d ignited lingered. How had she so quickly lost control? She feared he was dead, and upon seeing him safe was so grateful she hadn’t put up her defenses. Having a near-death experience might also explain why he stampeded over propriety and took her into his arms like a lover.
Susannah forced her mind away from the tantalizing thoughts and reluctantly backed out of his arms. “You smell of wood smoke. What happened out there?”