By the time he was finished at the station, it was well after midnight and Mr. Livingston was home fast asleep with his family.
Matthew leaned against the wall of the ticket office and glanced at his notes while he observed the young woman and her companion. She was about the right age to be Miss Livingston. And that carriage could certainly belong to Winston Livingston.
He continued to watch the pair as they moved closer to the train depot. Their excited chatter drifted on the hot August air and he caught drips and drabs. He strained harder to catch more of their conversation hoping to verify, without a doubt, that these women were his targets. Just as they drew close, steam bellowed out from all sides of the train’s sides preventing him from hearing anything else they said.
“All aboard.” the conductor shouted. He stood by one of the train doors with his punch in hand ready to greet the passengers and validate their ticket to travel.
Matthew rushed to get in line behind the women, but he was cut off by a family of nine. The mother was busy gathering the three youngest children while the two older children each held a middle child’s hand. The husband was buried behind a ridiculous amount of traveling bags, stumbling along after his family.
Taking in a deep breath, he reminded himself that all the passengers were going to board before the train left the station. He had no reason to hurry.
He watched as the young woman and her escort chose a seat near the back of the car. The family in front of him finally took their seats in the middle of the train car, which allowed him and the other passengers waiting to get past them to find their own seats.
As soon as he was able, he made a beeline to the seat facing the woman he suspected of being Miss Livingston.
“Excuse me, Miss. Ma’am.” He offered a polite nod to the both of them. “Is this seat taken?” he innocently inquired knowing full well it wasn’t.
The dark-haired young woman broke off her conversation with her companion to look up at him. Her eyes were the most unusual shade of brown…no, not brown, Matthew decided. Gold was a more accurate description. Gold with flecks of green—the most vivid green he had ever seen. The color of the deep rich green of the Kentucky hills where he’d been born. He was mesmerized.
“No, sir. That seat is not taken.” The humor in her voice pulled him from his daze.
He chastised himself for being so affected by the young woman. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t acquainted with his share of beautiful women, but he had to admit there was something about her that definitely caught his attention.
“Thank you.” he nodded his thanks and moved out of the aisle to let the other passengers go by. He pulled out the book he’d been reading before this trip and stuffed his knapsack under the train seat. Once his knapsack was secure, he turned to the two women across from him and introduced himself. “My name is Matthew. Matthew—Bell.” He thought that was a safe enough variation of his name.
Both women nodded, but when they didn’t introduce themselves, he pushed just to make certain he had the right two women. He needed to make it hard for them to refuse to introduce themselves. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, ladies. And you are…?"
The two women exchanged glances and then the elder of the two raised her eyebrows. “My name is Mrs.— ”
“Please take your seat, sir.” The train’s conductor pointedly singled him out. “The train is about to leave the station and it can be a bumpy start if you’re standing up.”
“Thank you.” Matthew nodded to the railroad employee and took his seat as directed. Once settled, he turned back to the women sitting across from him hoping to finish their introductions, but the women were once again deep in conversation. Now what should he do? He didn’t want to make them leery of him by pushing to make the young lady’s acquaintance. Perhaps he would initiate a bit of small talk once the train left the station and everyone relaxed and settled in for the long ride west.
True to the conductor’s word, the train’s whistle screamed several long whistles followed by clouds of belching steam rising to block the outside world from view. The train lurched a few times as it left the station. Matthew turned and smiled in the young woman’s direction, but she was paying no attention to him at all. No matter. There was plenty of time to make her acquaintance.
Matthew picked up his book and opened it to the bookmarked page. He kept his eyes at the top of the page, occasionally turning a page to give the impression to the casual observer that he was reading when in fact, he was studying the young woman across from him by keeping her within his periphery. It was a trick he had learned a few years ago on a particularly dangerous case.
He learned a long time ago to keep his observations of someone discreet, otherwise, they may take offense and decide to take a punch…or two. At least, that's what the gentleman friend of his client’s cheating wife had decided to do. And it didn’t help the man was an experienced ex-boxer. Matthew had taken his licks with as much dignity as he could, but he hadn’t forgotten that lesson and he wasn’t likely to either.
The train was now picking up speed and the landscape changed from the busy city streets of Philadelphia to an occasional industrial building or two. Soon, those disappeared and in their place stretched rolling hills of green forests. He turned another page and guided his gaze to the top of the page to get a good look at the woman sitting across from him.
She was animated when she and her companion spoke. Occasionally, she laughed. The sound was very pleasant, not shrill or harsh like some women. No, it sounded more like a wind chime moving in a light breeze. It was a lovely sound and he found himself smiling.
“That must be an awfully interesting book, Mr. Bell.” the woman stated, the touch of humor in her smile was back.
“And what makes you say that Miss...I’m sorry. I don’t think I caught your name earlier.” he smoothly interjected. Inwardly, he was quite pleased with himself. He'd managed to get her attention a lot sooner than he’d anticipated.
“To answer your first question, you’ve been staring at that one page for a good twenty minutes so it must be very interesting.” She smiled and he saw a slight dimple dot her left cheek.
“And the answer to my second question…” He led her exactly where he wanted her to go. Good manners would demand she answer his question this time. And that's what made him so good at his job. He knew when to push and when to hang back.
“The answer to your second question, Mr. Bell is...Miss Collins.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Miss—I'm sorry what did you say?” Matthew thought he’d misheard the woman.
“The name’s Collins. And it’s nice to meet you too. Are you going west on business?”
Matthew suddenly felt flushed. He pulled his finger around the inside of his collar trying to get some air. How could he have made such a beginner’s mistake? He shot a quick look around the car hoping to see Miss Livingston and her aunt. No such luck.
“Mr. Bell, you look a little pale. Are you alright?” Miss Collins asked leaning forward to open the train’s window to give him some air.
“Um, yes, I’m...no, I mean— ” He mumbled, his mind raced trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.
“Are you sure? You look so strange.” The woman’s traveling companion flipped her fan open and proceeded to wave it in front of his face.
He had screwed up big time. How had he missed Daniel Livingston’s daughter. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. The two women were on this train somewhere and he would find them. Everything was gonna be just fine.
Chapter Three
Abigail did her best to focus her attention on her book, her aunt, the landscape passing by outside the train’s window—anything but the handsome, and somewhat strange man sitting, and now sleeping, across from her.
She had noticed him at the train depot when she arrived. How could she not? Though he had been leaning up against the depot building, his height and dark good looks made him hard to miss. And she couldn�
��t have been happier when he chose to sit across from her and her aunt. She had the feeling he had been searching for her when he entered the train car, but she couldn’t be sure. However, she was sure about his persistence in knowing her name. That she had witnessed countless times when a man was interested in making her acquaintance. She found the prospect exhilarating primarily because he had no idea who she was, and it was that anonymity that gave her a boldness she wasn’t accustomed to exercising.
A discreet elbow in her ribs pulled her attention away from the man who appeared to be napping. She turned a surprised look to her aunt and frowned her confusion.
“Must you be so obvious, Abigail?” Aunt Jeannie whispered.
“I have no idea what you mean.” Abbie whispered back, feigning innocence, but Aunt Jeannie was an old pro at chaperoning young women in the first blooms of love. She knew the signs of infatuation, so Abbie wasn’t going to be able to fool her.
“Don’t play coy with me, young lady. I gave your mother—and your father—my solemn vow to keep you out of trouble. Don’t make me regret having taken on this responsibility. I fear if anything were to happen to you, or your reputation, your mother would drum me out of the family. But your father, who may be my brother, but he would not hesitate to have me placed inside some dark and spider-webbed encrusted jail cell somewhere and forgotten.”
Abbie knew her aunt was teasing, but there was a kernel of truth behind her words. Her father was so overprotective it was often the talk of the town.
“I promise to behave, Aunt Jeannie. You have my word. But...that doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun, now does it? I’m finally out from under the watchful eye of Daniel Livingston, the lion of Philadelphia where even the bravest of hearts tremble when he’s around.”
“And exactly what kind of ‘fun’ are you intending to have, Abigail?”
Abbie thought about her answer for a moment. She turned to her aunt in earnest and captured her gaze with her own. “I just want to have a holiday, Aunt Jeannie. I want to be free of the confines of Philadelphia’s unbreakable rules. A lady mustn’t do this. A lady shouldn’t do that. I just want to feel the freedom that comes from being someone besides Daniel Livingston’s daughter. That’s all.”
She saw the sympathy in her aunt’s eyes. “I know it isn’t easy to be my brother’s child. Especially the only one. He worries about you. And your mother. He fears his wealth places you both in a dangerous position and I fear my brother would curl up and die if either of you were to be harmed in any way.”
Her aunt reached out for her hands and gave them a comforting squeeze. “I understand your situation, Abigail, and as your aunt, who dearly loves you, I will stand back and allow you as much freedom as I can—within reason.”
Tears burned Abigail’s eyes and emotions threatened to bubble over. She hadn’t realized how anxious she had been worrying over whether her aunt would go along with her plan or not. Now, she could relax because her aunt understood her situation completely.
Abbie lowered her voice and stole a glance at the still sleeping stranger across from them. “That’s why I shall introduce myself as Rose Collins. Collins is my mother’s maiden name as you know, and of course, Rose is my middle name. Please go along with the ruse Aunt Jeannie, since any mention of my last name being Livingston will lead to questions about my father. And once they realize my father is the Great and Powerful Millionaire, Winston Daniel Livingston, I’ll be smothered in suitors who are only interested in my father’s money and couldn’t give two hoots in a water barrel about me.” Bitterness crept into her tone causing her to raise her voice slightly. She looked over at Mr. Bell to be sure she hadn't been overheard.
Another squeeze of her aunt’s gloved hand made her feel selfish about complaining. With all her father’s money came abundant blessings as well. She wasn’t blind to that fact, but she did wish she could fall in love with someone who loved her for her before they learned the truth about her family.
“Rest easy, Abigail—I mean Rose. Your secret is safe with me...within reason.” Her aunt’s brows raised in warning. “But know this, if I see something I’m not comfortable with, I will pull the strings on this little holiday of yours and we’ll be back on this train headed eastbound before you can blink. Do we understand one another?” Her aunt’s words were stern, but her tone was gentle and understanding.
Abbie’s relief was palpable. She exhaled a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. “We do, and I promise to use the common sense the women of this family are known for. Now, to change the subject, what do you think about the handsome gentleman sitting across from us?” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows in a coquettish gesture.
Her aunt raised her eyebrows too, but Abbie knew Aunt Jeannie was probably more surprised by her uncharacteristic mannerism than the fact she was ogling a stranger and admiring his physical attributes.
Finally, her aunt grinned back and again leaned in close to whisper her answer. “And I shall introduce myself as Mrs. Randall. I don’t think my late husband will mind if I use his first name for a little harmless holiday fun.”
Her aunt looked over at the sleeping man across from them. “I think he is quite a magnificent specimen, my dear. And he seems to be quite smitten with you if his choice of seat and numerous attempts at conversation are any indication. I say this is your opportunity to enjoy a bit of innocent fun while we are on this train—under my watchful eye, of course.”
Abbie stifled a giggle behind her own gloved hand. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he were going all the way to Durango?”
Her aunt turned to study the sleeping man for a moment, then turned her attention back to Abbie. “I think if that is the case, you are in for the holiday of your life...and he’s in for a lot of trouble.”
Abbie grinned at the meaning hidden behind her aunt’s bold statement. She stole another look for herself, and her joy bubbled up at the prospect of the possibilities. Her grin turned to a giggle and then a hearty laugh. The sound woke the man across from her and a pair of drowsy blue eyes raked over her face. A faint smile crooked his full lips and her heart stumbled.
She offered him a quick nod and turned her attention back to her book she pretended to read. Her aunt’s words echoed through her mind and she grinned to herself. She prayed the man sitting across from her was going all the way to Durango for that could be the makings of a wonderful holiday, indeed.
Matthew woke to the delightful sound of Miss Collins’s laughter and immediately felt a sharp pain in both his legs. They seem to have cramped up while he slept. Needing to alleviate the pain, Matthew attempted to straighten his legs. At least he tried to. His feet, attached to long lanky limbs, disappeared underneath Miss Collin's skirt. He accidentally brushed her leg with his and the warmth he felt worked its way through his pain-filled brain and he realized exactly what he was doing. Instantly, he jerked his leg back to his own side of the seat. "I do apologize, Miss Collins. My only defense is that I was a bit groggy having just woken from my nap and my legs were rather cramped.” He offered her a lop-side smile and shrugged his shoulders. She found his boyish apology quite appealing.
“I quite understand, Mr. Bell. As a woman of more than average height, I’ve known occasions where all I wanted to do was stretch my legs to the fullest. Think nothing of it.” she assured him and went back to reading her book. What was it about her that made him want to engage in conversation further? He could understand if she were Miss Livingston and he was intent on making her comfortable with his presence, but this woman was just a passing stranger...right?
He sat in silence staring out the window trying to think of something to say without sounding like he was trying to think of something to say. What on earth was the matter with him? He was usually so glib and quick-witted. He never had a problem making the ladies laugh, so what was going on today? He hadn’t a clue. Perhaps he was still reeling over his monumental mistake of tracking the wrong woman. It was so unlike him, but everything about his b
ehavior today was unlike him.
“Mr. Bell?” the other woman spoke drawing him out of his troubled thoughts.
He turned his attention to her while keeping Miss Collin’s face in his side vision. “Yes, ma’am.” he answered offering her a polite nod. “I'm sorry. I don’t believe I caught your name earlier. I seem to remember we were interrupted by a very loud train whistle, ma’am.”
“I suppose that’s true. My name is Mrs. Randall.”
Matthew cringed. Neither of these women were the ones Livingston had paid him to keep an eye on. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Randall.” He nearly groaned in frustration over his predicament. Mr. Livingston had told him that his sister's name was Wentworth, definitely not Randall. It was actually the last thing he'd told him before Gus had unexpectedly burst into the room.
“I was wondering where you hail from Mr. Bell? There’s a slight drawl in your speech. Certainly not a native of the northeastern states, that much I can tell.”
He watched Miss Collins lay her book in her lap and direct her attention to him as well. He sat a little straighter in his seat and smoothed down his tie. “I’m from Kentucky, ma’am.” He moved his body so that he included Miss Collins, who seem interested in the conversation. “I’m from a town called Bowling Green. It's a nice size town—I suppose. Big enough for a boy to grow up in and learn things, but small enough to feel like home. You know, where you know everybody and everybody knows you.”
“What kind of things did you learn?” Miss Collins’ surprising question was accompanied by a coy look. Her amazing colored eyes peering at him from under a thick fringe of dark lashes. He swallowed hard to clear the lump in his throat. “Uh...I learned— ” What had he learned? How to skinny dip in the Big Barren River? How to kiss a girl after church when her pa wasn’t looking? There were a hundred other things that ran through his head, but none of them were appropriate for a young lady such as Miss Collins. “I learned to read. And to write.” he added. He squeezed his eyes closed and gave himself a mental kick.
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