Trent needed to convince Glover his interests weren’t with Rosalind. If he could put doubt in the man’s mind about his affections for her, it might be easier to leave once the word spread of her disappearance. Trent held out his hand to Mary and smiled. “Shall we?”
Mary took his arm like her mother had done moments ago, dismissing the men. Without a word, they left her side and moved through the crowd of guests.
Once they joined the other couples on the floor, the music began. Trent caught a glimpse of Glover watching them from a distance, and he struggled to recall what Rosalind told him. Slide your right foot forward one step, three measures.
Right or not, that’s what he did. He led Mary through the dance, but the way she moved and the frequency of her touches on his arm, his hand, were more than he bargained for. She was a flirt.
Five dances later, Trent not only had Glover’s attention, but everyone else’s as well, especially his parents. Nothing he did was improper, but he didn’t stop Mary from her advances.
“Miss Ondervan, would you like some punch?” He extended his elbow. She looped her arm through his.
“I’m having such a wonderful time, Mr. Easton.” She shook her head back and forth, her hair swooshing across her shoulders.
His mother strolled up to them. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met.”
Mary’s eyes flitted between Trent and his mother. “You must be Mrs. Easton. I’m Mary Ondervan. My parents are close friends with Thomas and Elizabeth Hart.”
“Yes, of course. Would you care to join us?”
Mary smiled. “I’d be delighted.”
Weaving their way through chairs and tables, Trent’s father stood. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” He bowed.
Trent released his hold. “May I present Miss Mary Ondervan? Miss Ondervan, my father, Thomas Easton.”
Trent quickly scanned the room. Glover and Roger sat together at a table, both of them looking on. His heart pounded. Lord, please have Roger hold his tongue. Don’t let him tell Glover what he witnessed tonight. Or had he already? He took in steady breaths.
A warm touch caressed his hand, bringing his attention to the woman next to him. Mary was staring. “Will you walk with me to my mother?”
“Of course.” Trent held out his arm and glanced at his father, praying his look conveyed his need for help.
“Your train leaves tomorrow, Trent,” his father said, retaking his seat.
With a smile, he gave his father a nod and then strolled in the direction Mary led.
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Mary’s soft voice came through the noise around them. Her exotic eyes peered at him.
“I am. My home is in Texas.” And it would forever be. A life he’d waited years to claim.
She slowed her steps. “She’s a lucky woman.”
He glanced at her. “Is it that obvious?”
She took his hand and drew him aside as people strolled by. “I’ve never met a man who doesn’t reciprocate my flirtations, unless his heart is taken. It’s a shame I’ve not had the pleasure until now, Mr. Easton.” She curtsied. Her smile lit her face. “Until next time.”
There would be no next time. “It was wonderful spending the evening with you, Miss Ondervan.” He bowed.
Rosalind stood in the aisle, looking around the train. A family jostled her as they passed. The whistle blew. The conductor yelled the final boarding call.
“Who can I possibly ask for help?” she mumbled.
A woman and child strolled in her direction, the little girl’s auburn pigtails bouncing as she skipped.
“Excuse me,” Rosalind asked, still feeling off-balance from the sway of the train she had just disembarked. “Which way is the dining car?”
“We’re going there.” She gestured to the next car. “You’re more than welcome to follow us.”
“Thank you.”
The mother took her child’s arm. “Come, Lilly.”
Rosalind followed, holding her bag close. Where was that ticket she just bought? Heavens, she could be thrown off the train...or worse.
They entered the dining car through a tiny doorway. She’d never dreamed a train could be so splendid. The last one paled in comparison. Tables—covered in white cloths and decorated with china and glassware—lined each side of the aisle. The brown pull-down window shades held back the darkness as light from crystal chandeliers lit the dining car.
Rosalind slowed to a halt. The young woman she’d met moments ago waved her over. Firmly clasping her bag, Rosalind crossed the room. “Hello again.”
“The other tables appear full, but we have plenty of room. Would you care to join us?”
The tension in her shoulders eased. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Please. My name is Catherine Hadley, and this is my daughter, Lilly.”
Lilly’s freckled cheeks stretched to a wide grin.
She sat by the window. “My name is Rosalind St—” She glanced down at her mother’s ring—her wedding ring. She touched the smooth band with the tip of her finger. “Rosalind Easton.”
The name rolled. The name she’d always wanted. Rosalind touched the swaying curtains and caught sight of the dark sky. By now, everyone would know she was gone. Glover’s face flashed through her mind. His dark, hard eyes, the little smirk of pleasure he always showed just before he hurt her. A shiver shot up her spine. If Glover learned how the Eastons had helped her escape ...
“Rosalind. Are you all right?”
Rosalind swallowed hard and focused on Catherine’s kind face. The overhead lights brightened the auburn wisps framing her face below her hat. “I was married just prior to boarding the train. I’m riding alone.” And I’m lonely, worried for my husband and his family.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult. When my husband and I first married, he often took short trips for the railroad. But after Lilly’s birth, when the travel times lengthened, he started to carry us with him. He told me Jesus once said of marriage, ‘What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.’” She leaned forward and chuckled. “And that includes the railroad.”
After dinner, Catherine and Lilly stood. Rosalind was about to stand as well but recalled her ticket. She had to find it, or she’d have no place to go.
“Will you be staying a bit longer?” Catherine took her daughter’s hand. Lilly placed her napkin on the table, but it fell on the floor.
Rosalind bent and snatched it up, placing it next to her plate. “I think I will.”
Catherine smiled. “We hope to see you tomorrow then. Say good night, Lilly.”
Lilly, the spitting image of her mother, curtsied and then grinned. She looked up at her mother. “I did it without falling this time.”
Catherine laughed. “You did, sweetie.” Her gaze returned to Rosalind. “Good night, Mrs. Easton.”
Rosalind nodded. “Tomorrow.” If she hadn’t been taken off the train before then because of her ticket.
An hour later, after searching through everything she own-ed, looking for her ticket, she glanced around the dining car. She was the only person left and still had no idea what to do. One thing for sure, her eyes weren’t cooperating. Her eyelids slowly shut. She was so tired. She shuffled in her seat and forced a blink.
A man strolled up to her, wiping his hands on his apron. “Is there anything else I may help you with? We are closing for the evening. Breakfast will be served at seven o’clock.”
“I need nothing else. Thank you.” She grabbed her bag and reticule. She had no choice but to leave. Yet he held her gaze as if searching her eyes. Did he somehow know her predicament? But how could he? She stood and turned.
He cleared his throat. “Ma’am.”
She took a few steps away.
“Ma’am? You don’t have a ticket, do you?”
She slowed her pace and turned, glancing down at her bag and reticule. “I do, but I can’t find it. I have friends I met. I’m sure they’ll allow me stay with them.
”
“They must.”
Was it the rocking motion from the train that made her stomach queasy or the emphasis he added to his words?
He gave her a small smile, as if to reassure her. “Your secret is safe with me, but if others find out, they’ll not be so concerned for your well-being.”
“Thank you.”
“If you need further assistance, just ask for me by name. Oliver.” Oliver cleared off her dishes. She hurried to look for her friends where she assumed they’d gone. Standing in front of two compartments, to the right and left, she knocked on the left. The door opened. An elderly man leaned on a cane. “May I help you?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I believe I have the wrong room.”
The elderly man coughed, his thin frame shaking. As she was about to offer her assistance, he moved and closed the door. She took a deep breath and knocked on the next compartment. There was no answer. She knocked again but a little harder.
A gentleman answered, running his thick fingers through his thinning hair. “Yes?”
Rosalind glanced down the hallway. She was no more able to locate them than she was to find her ticket.
“Now you look here.” His eyes narrowed and pointed a thick finger in her face. “Young lady, do you not know the hour?”
Rosalind felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, and her breath caught. She’d not heard Oliver’s approach. His hand fell.
“Forgive us, sir. I believe we’ve forgotten our cabin.” Oliver stood inches from the man as if to protect her, with a smile she’d guess could turn even a foe into a friend.
The man gave a hard nod, then slammed the door without a word.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you, but...it’s not good for you to be alone.”
Rosalind took a few steps back and grabbed her wrist against her stomach. Glover’s hard eyes flashed before her. What would happen to her if Oliver were like Glover, or worse? Could she trust a total stranger? But what choice did she have? Today was to be her wedding to Glover, and he could never find her. A chill ran up her spine. She had to get to Forth Worth.
“I will help you. Follow me.” He turned and led the way to an area meant only for train personnel. He entered a room, but she waited in the hall. He came out with a handful of papers. His keys jingling as he placed them in his pocket. “Let’s go back to the dining car so I can take a better look at these.” He motioned for her to walk ahead of him.
They re-entered the dining car, and Oliver slid into the first chair. She sat across from him. He laid the papers out and ran his hand over them, then pointed to several lines. “There are two empty compartments. The passengers didn’t show up.”
Who was this man who seemed to be a waiter one moment, then spoke with authority and wisdom on train business the next? “Why are you helping me?”
He held his finger on the paper and glanced up. “You have a look about you, a look I had once when I needed help. Someone helped me then, and I promised God if I ever got that feeling from someone, I’d help them.” Oliver rose from his chair. “You can use the first compartment to your right outside the dining car. You’ll be safe there.”
“Thank you,” she said as exhaustion weighed down her limbs. “Truly, I thank you.” She accepted the key and headed to her room. When she reached the dining car exit, Rosalind looked back. Oliver smiled, his deep brown eyes full of such kindness it brought tears to her own.
Chapter Sixteen
Rosalind rose from the bed with a sigh and crossed the small area to the window. Colors blurred past her.
Trent.
A day. That was the difference between them once she arrived in Fort Worth.
She’d never left Boston before, never wanted to, except when reading Trent’s letters. Land spread as far as the sea... Skies as blue as a robin’s egg... Clouds like cotton... She couldn’t imagine it, just as she couldn’t imagine being married to Trent. Until now. How things had changed.
Rosalind propped her arm against the window frame and fingered the shimmering diamonds of her mother’s ring. Her mother’s ring was proof enough they were married, yet her mind still couldn’t wrap itself around the fact. And where had he gotten the ring?
The smell of bacon seeped into the room and caused her stomach to rumble. Rosalind stepped into the hall. A stream of people pushed past her, leaving the dining car, while others pushed against those to get in. With little effort, Rosalind moved through the hall behind a short, round man, entered the dining car, and found a table unoccupied.
Slipping into the bench, she glanced at the burning gas lights. Everything was brighter this morning, even the sun poking through the trees into the dining car. But thoughts of Trent weighed heavily along with those of Glover. If Glover found out about their wedding, she was certain he would retaliate. But if he never found out, would she actually be free? Free from his touch and the pain he caused her?
She glanced down at her hands, remembering Glover’s cruelty, then how afterward, on the way to the train, Trent caressed her palm and wrist. His gentleness warmed her then as it did now. Her heart lifted and she smiled. Today was the start of a new life and future. One that included Trent.
Rosalind heard something to her left and glanced up. “Well, don’t you look lovely.”
“Catherine. I was lost in thought. Where is Lilly?”
“My husband is getting her ready.” She clasped her stomach and her face paled. “You don’t mind if I sit?”
“Of course not. Please. Have a seat. You must eat breakfast with me.” Rosalind stood and placed her hand under Catherine’s elbow for support. Catherine sunk into the chair. “Is there anything I can do?”
“It’s been like this for months.” She leaned forward. “I’m with child and the mornings are the hardest. I’m sorry. That was most improper.” Her whisper faded as she sunk further into her seat, taking the napkin from the table and blotting her neck.
Rosalind shifted a bit closer. “No need to worry.” She smiled at her new friend, wanting to bring comfort, although she had no understanding of the sickness expectant mothers often endured during pregnancy. If given the chance, she’d gladly endure any sickness to have a child with Trent. A child, one as cute and adorable as Lilly. She looked down the aisle, then back again. “You said Lilly and your husband are joining you, yes?”
Catherine dotted her forehead with a napkin and inhaled a long breath. “He is the most wonderful and caring husband. He tends to Lilly every morning while I nibble on something to settle my stomach.”
Rosalind nodded as if to say she understood such adoration, but in fact she hadn’t a clue, being wed only for such a short time. Come to think of it, never had she seen her father take on such a role. Rosalind pushed the thought of her father away when the waiter hurried to their table.
After Rosalind and Catherine placed their orders, a thin man in a dark conductor’s coat entered, waving train tickets in the air. “Tickets, please! Tickets!” he bellowed across the dining car, drawing everyone’s attention. No one had asked for tickets since she’d been aboard, but she’d known the conductor would come eventually. She had devised a plan of escape, but she couldn’t simply walk out without drawing attention now. But did she have a choice?
The conductor paused at the table before Rosalind’s. Her heart pounded in her ears.
“Rosalind? Are you all right?” Catherine chuckled. “You look a little like how I feel.”
“I ... um ...” Her body trembled. She rose quickly, sending her chair into a girl walking past balancing two glasses on a round serving tray. One of the glasses wobbled on the small tray and the other tipped over, sloshing milk on the server’s dress.
“Oh, my.” Rosalind bit her lip, then swiped her napkin from the floor where it had fallen. White splats dotted the poor girl’s face. “I’m terribly sorry.” She extended her napkin.
The girl set the tray down, then shook out her arms. Liquid slung from her sleeves. Catherine appeared at the girl’s side with more napkins
, patting her arms.
The conductor stared in her direction.
She glanced toward her friend, scrambling to think of a reasonable response for leaving so abruptly. “Catherine, I must go.”
Catherine pushed her auburn hair from her face. Worry creased her brow.
Lifting her skirt, Rosalind rushed out of the dining car.
Rosalind was desperate. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, she hid in her room until evening when hunger drove her out. Would the conductor be searching her out even now? The dining car was empty, but the aroma of roast chicken caused her mouth to water.
“Would you happen to be the brunette I heard about today?”
Rosalind jumped and bit her lower lip as she turned. “I didn’t see you there.”
Oliver sat in a corner near the kitchen hunched over a stack of papers, his eyes gazing up at her. He dropped his writing instrument and sat up. “No answer. Are you hungry?” He stood and entered the kitchen area and came back with a plate. “I figured you’d come.” Gently setting the plate down on a table, he nudged it toward her and returned to his paper. “If anything were to happen to you, my wife would be quite upset. You should have seen her when Lilly and I came to breakfast. She barely ate, and I can’t have her not eating.” He shot her a poignant look, then smiled.
Rosalind gaped. “You’re Catherine’s husband?”
“That I am.” The corner of his eyes wrinkled, and his face beamed. “And to say I’m blessed to be so is an understatement. She is a loyal companion and has taken a liking to you right off.”
“Did you know who I was yesterday?”
“You matched the description Catherine gave.” He lifted his pencil and pointed to the food. “Now, please eat so I may take you to Catherine. She’ll be thrilled to see you.” He leaned his elbows on the table and began to scribble something.
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