by Denise Daye
“It’s almost nine.” George checked his pocket watch.
“Look Egan, look out the window! The mountains, the mountains are as high as the sky!” Milton pointed out at the Rocky Mountains that were sitting in the distance like a herd of giants.
Esther remembered how excited she was when she first saw them as a little girl. Her father had taken her on a business trip to Denver, and it was nothing short of breathtaking. Since then she had seen them several times, impressed by each and every one of them nonetheless. Suddenly the train started slowing down drastically.
“We are in Denver. You should get a bite in.” George nodded toward a plate with breakfast on it. “I doubt we will have time to get food at the station. The steward said that the train to Antonito leaves at nine-thirty.”
Esther stretched and walked over to the table and grabbed a sandwich. Deep down she felt a bit of a sadness that their train journey with George would come to an end so soon. If, and the emphasis was on ‘if,’ they wouldn’t run in to any trouble from here on George would go his way as early as tomorrow, never to be seen again.
She watched him stand next to Milton, talking about the history of the Rocky Mountains, almost like a father would teach his son. For a moment she let her mind wander to the insane thought of what it would be like if they all would be a family. She had no doubt that George would be the most incredible father to her children. And in regard to herself…Esther’s imagination went wild… picturing his strong hands holding her tightly pressed against his tall body, kissing her gently with those beautiful lips of his. Her cheeks flooded with heat as she shook her head to escape this romantic daydream. She was hopeless. Maybe Milton was right. Maybe she was falling, or most likely had already, for George Astley, the stunning Duke of Aberdeen.
The train wheels made that horrible shrieking noise again, changing countryside views into pictures of streets and tall stone buildings. Denver was on its way to becoming a real city, growing from five thousand working souls to over a hundred thousand residents in the short span of a few years. Grand buildings, including the monumental Union Train Station they were pulling into, were popping up everywhere. But underneath all this new bling was still that old miners’ town. Streets were still made of mud instead of pavement, a reminder that the city was barely able to cope with never-ending construction zones and the constant flock of people settling down here.
The mighty high ceilings and white showy pillars of Union Station were already in sight when the train tracks took them right along the brothel and gambling district. Prostitutes were lining up at the side of the tracks, welcoming the passengers with seductive laughs. One of them threw George a wink, pulling down her shirt.
Milton let out a sigh. “Just like New York.”
“I didn’t expect it to be so…lively,” George commented politely with a grin on his lips.
“It certainly is a great place to lose your hard-earned money,” Esther replied, turning her gaze away from a prostitute who ran after the train and lifted her skirt for her.
The train stopped abruptly, giving everyone a good shake. Stewards were shouting in the distance, tearing open the train doors to let out the waiting passengers who now flooded the station like an untamed ocean wave. Their marching steps could be felt rippling across the train.
“Is everyone ready?” George asked, picking up his bag from the floor realizing too late that nobody but him really had any belongings that could have been packed for this trip. He opened his mouth to apologize when Milton shouted in a muffled, shrieking voice.
“The police are here!” He instantly ducked down from the window, pressing his little body against the wall. Esther rushed over to join him; her chest stuttered, biting back a loud gasp. George curiously leaned sideways to peek out the window and investigate the situation.
“There are certainly several policemen pointing toward this train car,” he announced with a face turned into puzzlement. Eyes squinted as he stepped closer toward the window. “With Emily Wayne spearheading them. I wonder what she’s up to now.”
A sense of dread washed over Esther. She felt stuck, her mind slowly being pulled into hot quicksand. Had Emily Wayne found out about her?
“Unless it is illegal in America to turn down an entitled heiress, this honor must be indeed for you, Egan,” George concluded calmly, crossing his arms in silent demand for an explanation.
“We didn’t do anything, really!” Milton pleaded with big eyes. Esther threw her head back against the wall. This was bad. George had no reason to cover for them. If he had common sense, he would block the only escape at the back of the train car and keep them in here until the police arrived—which was any moment now. She looked up at George who was mercilessly staring straight back at her.
“I can explain it later,” Esther blurted out in a desperate tone, breaking the anxiety-filled silence in the air. “Please…” her voice pleaded, begged.
George’s intense gaze kept her hostage for a few more seconds before letting out a loud breath.
“Get out the back,” he instructed them, hurrying over to the window to analyze the situation once more, “and meet me on the train to Antonito in thirty minutes.”
Milton threw himself into George’s arms, giving him a quick, big hug with an even bigger smile. Esther would have loved nothing more than to do the same, but of course she didn’t. If she had ever wondered who this man truly was, she would never, not in this life nor the next, do so again. Despite all logic and the odds stacked against her, George trusted her, believed in her, had her back no matter what. That was all she needed to know about this man, that and nothing more…
“Go now!” George rushed them out the back door. Esther and Milton climbed down the train coupling and onto the tracks. “I shall deduct this off your pay,” he joked with the most handsome smile on his face before shutting the door behind them, locking it from the inside.
Esther had to run, but for a moment just stood there in awe about this man. There was not the slightest doubt in her mind any longer…she loved him with all her heart!
“Hurry,” Milton said, pulling her arm and leading the way around the train cars and into the safety of the bustling crowd of the train station. Esther dared to look over her shoulder to witness a hoard of police getting on the train when she felt a brick hit her on the chest and staggered backward a few feet, almost tumbling to the ground.
“Hey, watch out!” an old man pushing a cart of coal yelled at her. “Useless kids,” he murmured as he continued onwards.
“Let me help you there darling,” a prostitute flirted in a tempting voice. “What a pretty young lad you are, looking for company,” she purred, squishing her breasts together with matching pouty lips.
“Come on!” Milton yanked her forward. Gathering herself together, they ran across the winding crowd, met by a burst of sweltering sunlight as they made their way to the train platform to Antonito. If they made it onto the train and George would be able to throw the police off, they had a fair chance of staying hidden.
Esther had to find Jones as soon as possible or be back on a train to New York most likely dead as a trophy of some bounty hunter. She could see Morris with a hidden smile on his face when he identified her corpse, pretending to be outraged over the warrant, swearing to find out who did this to her, leaving no trace behind that he was the killer.
As she and Milton snuck onto the train to Antonito, she prayed that from here on nothing would interfere with her mission to find Jones any further. But something deep inside told her that this adventure was far from calming down and was most likely just starting to warm up.
George was sitting at the table reading the newspaper when the police, dressed in blue uniforms with shiny copper buttons, swung open the door to his train car without knocking. There must have been four of them entering with more waiting outside. All of them looked so alike, it was hard to distinguish between them. Except for one of them whose enormous mustache instantly made him stand out.
“Oh, t
hank God,” George put his newspaper down on the table and shot up from his seat. “Did you find them?” he sounded hopeful. All four officers exchanged confused looks. Emily Wayne, looking her best in a yellow dress with a long, heavily decorated train in the back, pushed the police officers out of the way.
“Where are they!” she fumed.
“What do you mean?”
“Your so-called guides. Where are they?”
George tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips.
“Are you saying they are still out there? Still on the run?” he asked perplexed.
“We thought they were here,” one of the officers remarked hesitantly.
“Here?!” George acted outraged. “Why would they be here? I reported at the last train station that they had fled. Like thieves, in the middle of the night. Gone.”
The policemen looked truly puzzled, not sure what to say next. “Did you know that one of them is worth double the bounty of Jesse James?” the officer with the ridiculous mustache said, snooping around the car.
George had no idea. This was the first time he’d heard about this bounty. “Of course, I did! And it is still my lord to you!” he belittled them in the almighty tone a powerful nobleman would unleash on his peasants.
Emily and the officers exchanged looks again, but this time they turned more and more from confusion to worry and embarrassment.
“I—I am very very sorry, my lord, we thought they’d made it all the way to Denver,” one of the officers said, carefully avoiding eye contact.
“Well clearly, they have not, or do you see them here?” The room was drenched in silence, grown men staring onto the floor like little children being scolded by their papa.
“Now do not bother me again until you have found them, and I highly recommend you hurry as they might be halfway back to New York by now.”
George crossed his arms, his brows squished together in annoyance. Emily surveyed his facial expression, somehow searching for the truth buried in there. Too bad for her, as George had grown up with a monster of a mother who would torment her children for matters as trivial as running down the hallway, so he’d had no other choice but to learn to hone his emotions to perfection. Time out at his estate’s former torture cellar depended on his ability to hide the truth, and as a small child, nothing was more traumatic than that dark place filled with rats and lost souls. Nobody, not even a cunning snake like Emily Wayne, possessed the skill to get information out of him that he was not willing to give.
Emily must have decided to believe him as she angrily stomped her foot on the ground, both hands clenched into rageful fists. For a brief second, she looked as if she was about to shatter into millions of hateful pieces, but she was able to get a hold of herself again as soon as she noticed how George was judging her with his noble, captivating eyes.
“Let’s telegraph the train stations located on their path back to New York,” she said, trying to seem as composed as George was.
“That would be wise.” George complimented her idea to further clear all suspicion, thinking to himself how despicable she was.
“Yes, my lord, at once,” the officers shouted in a subordinate cheer, rushing out the door. Emily didn’t follow them but remained standing in the middle of the room, her mouth twitching, as if she was trying to apologize but didn’t possess the skill to.
“It might be to our advantage if someone with the intelligence above an average pigeon accompanies those incompetent policemen to send out the telegraphs, or else they will fail at that too and will never find those criminals.” George pretended that he was simply thinking out loud. In reality, he was baiting her like a fisherman his dinner, and luckily for him, Emily took the bait. Flattered that she could be essential to this task but also clearly anxious that the police would mess up and let her enemy Egan slip away, she turned toward the door.
“I better join them to oversee those telegraphs. Shall I keep you informed?” She sounded hopeful as if her success in this mission would bring her the reward of marriage after all. Was this woman that delusional, not living on planet Earth?
“I shall be indebted to you forever.” George forced himself to smile at her. It worked and her face lit up like a shooting star, her mind most likely filled with delusional pictures of becoming the next Duchess of Aberdeen.
“I shall telegraph you as soon as I have news. Call on me when you get back to Denver.” She smiled back at him. And just like that, Emily Wayne rushed after the police officers, thinking she was on a mission for George, who in return was leading her further from the truth than she could ever imagine. At least they would be looking in the wrong direction, which should buy George, Milton, and Egan enough time not only to make it to Chama but also to come up with a plan to get him out of this mess.
George grabbed his bag and jumped off the train. His feet were gliding over the busy train platform like an eagle ready to descend for its prey. He could not miss that train to Antonito for anything in the world, as now two additional people depended on him—and one of them meant more to him than he could possibly ever have dreamt of.
Chapter 9
E sther nervously turned around again, staring at the train door with worried eyes. Milton was anxiously scooting back and forth in his seat next to her. Outside was another one of those damnable posters haunting her wherever she went. It attracted a few glances once in a while, but nothing like the rowdy crowd when the posters had first gone up. She pulled her hat onto her face, trying her best to blend in with the small crowd around them. The Denver and Rio Grande Railroad was a small-town train line with no first-class wagons. Only a few train cars were designated for passengers, leaving the majority of the train for supply wagons to stock the military forts and mining camps that were scattered in the untamed West. The interior of the wagons was far from what could be classified as lavish, with wooden seats lined up in rows like church banks and the walls made of wooden planks, some of them with gaps in between. Except for two families with children and several cowboys, their passenger car was almost empty.
Esther stood up to get a better view of the door, but still no sign of George. If he were to miss this train, her chances of making it to Jones would go down to zero. She didn’t know for certain but highly expected that the government had not only cut off all communication to Chama, but passenger rides as well. Without a duke who argued to push the agreement along by talking sense into his lawyer Jones, there was no chance of getting on that train from Antonito to Chama. She would have to get a horse and ride the treacherous mountain terrain by herself, a guaranteed death sentence. Besides, she had anticipated spending that one more day with him before parting ways. Taking that from her was almost worse than not making it to Jones.
Milton let out a heavy sigh.
“Where is he?”
The train whistled at the passengers and the workers on the tracks to warn them that the train was being set into motion. Esther rushed over to the train door, stopping right behind the steward who had just closed the door as the train slowly started to roll off.
“Wait,” she shouted into his neck, causing him to jerk around in surprise.
“What for?” he asked, shoving her off his back, his face grimaced in annoyance when a voice boomed across the distance.
“Hold it!” George’s voice yelled, out of breath, sprinting along the train in an attempt to jump onto it.
“What the blazes?” the steward cussed, stumbling backwards as George maneuvered himself next to the train door, gripping the metal bar that was put in place to help people get on and off the train.
Esther forcefully pushed the steward aside to throw herself against the heavy door, swinging it wide open, almost falling out herself. The speed and winds around the train had picked up quite a bit by now, pushing and pulling George around as if he was an unwanted flea on a dog. He finally managed to use a heavy blow of wind coming in from his back to throw himself right through the opened doorframe and into the train. But instead of an eleg
ant landing worthy of a duke, he fell straight past Esther and the steward and flat onto his stomach. Under flabbergasted mumbling from the other passengers, he instantly pushed himself back onto his feet and used his cowboy hat to dust off.
“A bit of a downgrade from our previous accommodations, don’t you agree?” he leaned over and whispered to her before doing an elegant courtesy bow for the disturbed passengers. “My apologies. Delighted to make your acquaintances.” He smiled in the most handsome of his smiles, causing the women and children alike to giggle. The men on the other hand mumbled in annoyance, putting an end to the show by going about their business—reading newspapers or looking out the window.
Esther was left speechless by this stunning entrance but not motionless. Without thinking, she threw herself around his neck. “You made it!” Feeling his iron chest pressed against her body, the smell of his sweet scent of fresh soap instantly brought her back to reality, reminding her who and where she was and more so what the hell she was doing. She jerked away, staring onto the floor with cheeks as red as a campfire.
“You did not think I would let you have all the fun by yourself?” he joked.
“Meh. I was just worried that I would have to pay for our train tickets.” She brushed him off with a smirk.
George scouted the train car to find Milton wave at him, the smile on his little lips as warming as the rays of the sun. Still staring at Milton, he leaned in, but she knew all too well what he had on his mind so she talked before he could.
“I couldn’t put him back on the train to New York. It would have been too dangerous.”
George pursed his lips but nodded in sympathy.
“But I’ve already talked to him; he will stay at a hotel in Antonito until we’re done in Chama.”
“Considering the circumstances, that would be best,” he agreed.
Esther now noticed for the first time that George was without his bag.
“Where is your bag?”