by Jodi Thomas
The rattle of the train couldn’t block out Lamont’s voice as he bragged that “the McMurray woman,” as he called her, would fatten his bank account and warm his bed. She heard him tell the men around him that it was all he could do to keep from bedding her when he’d met her all those years ago in Washington. She was ripe and ready, he’d laughed. It would have been easy enough, he’d claimed, but he realized she was a gold mine. If he handled her correctly, he’d control not only her body, but her mind as well as her wealth.
When one of the young men drinking with him suggested the senator keep her pregnant to ensure control, Lamont had bragged that he’d allow her one child, maybe two, and then see that there were no other pregnancies. “I want her by my side, not home raising brats. Wait till you see her. She may be dumb as a stump, but she’s built tall and beautiful with ginger-colored hair that hangs in curls past her waist. The perfect woman to stand with me all the way to the White House.”
Beth bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood. If she hadn’t caught an earlier train to meet her groom-to-be, she never would have seen him like this until it was too late. Now she saw the truth and mourned her dream. Lamont had lost his reelection, but with a McMurray on his arm, he thought he’d take the seat from Texas without any trouble.
“I’ve got two years to meet all the right people,” he said. “Then once I’m elected, I’ll never have to return to the state.”
She slowly raised her head just enough to see him. His words were starting to slur and he’d opened his coat, revealing extra pounds around his middle that hadn’t been there years ago. His brown hair and eyes made him handsome, but she saw flaws now. Frown lines marked his forehead, and silver at his temples showed the signs of aging. She knew he was more than fifteen years older than she was. It hadn’t mattered before tonight, but now she saw middle age weighting his shoulders. He wasn’t a young man, and by the time she bore and raised his children, she’d be nursing an old man.
Rain tapped on the windows and one of the lanterns blinked out, throwing the back of the car into shadow. Beth didn’t care. At the next stop, she’d rush off this train and vanish. No one would look for her. No one knew she was here except the conductor who’d punched her ticket. From the sound of the storm brewing outside, he’d have more to worry about than one passenger riding away on the horse she’d loaded onboard.
Part of her wished she were brave enough to confront Lamont. He’d lied to her. He’d stolen years of her life as she’d waited for him. Part of her wanted to run to the front of the car and knock his bloated head off. Then instead of being almost a bride, she’d be almost a widow, which sounded far better to her right now.
The rain pounded harder and lightning flashed, pulling Beth from her anger and making her think. It would not be wise to confront Lamont here. The train would arrive before dawn in Dallas. No one would be there to meet her. She’d be alone with Lamont.
The men up front were now telling stories of her family and how spoiled they’d heard the youngest daughter of Teagan McMurray was. Everyone commented that any man lucky enough to meet her bragged of her beauty and her wealth, but none said anything about her character. Spoiled, temperamental, headstrong were words tossed around about her.
“Great beauty does that to a woman,” Lamont shouted above the storm. “She’ll need a strong hand to keep her in line. With her in Washington, D.C., and all her family in Texas, I’ll have no problem. Women are like children; they need the hand of discipline lowered frequently. That’s one of the reasons I want to meet her in Dallas. We’ll get a few things straight from the beginning.”
The others laughed, but their laughter didn’t ring true. Beth wondered if they weren’t simply playing along with Lamont. If so, they were far more dangerous to him than to her. She studied them closely and noticed the way they glanced at one another when Lamont wasn’t looking. The army officers weren’t Lamont’s friends and the drunk didn’t even know it.
Beth waited for her chance to escape the car. Even if the next stop was for water or wood, she’d climb off and ride in the car with her horse before she’d spend another moment with the senator and the men who were baiting him.
They talked of the tricks they’d played on people and the women they’d slept with. Two of the men even got in a playful fight when they both claimed to have slept with the same socialite in the capital. None of the soldiers drank as much as Lamont did, and all fell silent when he shared something he’d gotten away with in Washington. They were digging his political grave, and Lamont was handing them the shovels.
Finally, the train began to slow. She saw the single lantern swinging beside the water tank. Salvation awaited.
With her head low, Beth slipped from the car and melted into the rain on the dark side of the train. She had to feel her way back to the first freight car. Her horse was the only animal inside the car. Much as she wanted to pull Brandy Blue off the train and ride open land, it was too dangerous in the mud and storm. In a few hours they’d be at a proper platform in Dallas and she’d have a road to follow at daylight.
Rain soaked all the way to her skin by the time she slipped into Brandy Blue’s makeshift stall. She stood beside him, patting his neck, whispering to keep him calm. He was restless, but she couldn’t help telling him how much better company he was than what she’d left behind. She’d grown up around horses at Whispering Mountain Ranch. She couldn’t remember not being able to ride. The McMurray horses were the best in the state and like family to all the clan.
Beth checked her saddlebags, thankful she’d worn trousers. Pulling her gun belt and Colt from the leather, she strapped them around her waist. Another lesson her papa had insisted on. When a McMurray travels alone, he or she always travels armed. If anyone did see her ride away at the platform, they’d think she was a man.
She’d be out of Dallas and heading home by full light.
Pulling a small towel from her bag, she wiped her face, thinking of all the names Lamont had called her over the last few hours. Headstrong, beautiful, spoiled, simple. She grinned. He’d left out one. Determined. She wasn’t a girl anymore, but a strong woman. Her papa had raised his daughters to be independent. It was time she took charge of her life and stopped waiting for a husband.
Nothing would keep her in the same town with him. She’d wait until Lamont and the army officers left the station, and then she’d saddle up and ride. As long as she headed south, she knew she’d be going home. She wanted no one seeing her in the same town with her almost-husband. In fact, she never planned to see him again for as long as she lived. As soon as she got home, she’d burn his letters and marry the first man who asked her before the ashes were cold. Any man, anywhere, would be better than the braggart she’d seen in the passenger car.
Beth set her mind. If no one asked her again, she’d never marry. Being alone had to be better than being with the wrong person. Her papa had made sure she had her own money, so she didn’t need Lamont.
She patted Brandy Blue. “Let’s go home, boy. I need to ride the hills of Whispering Mountain and forget what a fool I’ve been.” Smiling, she wondered if her wish and the horse’s weren’t the same, as he didn’t like the train, or the night, or the storm.
Between the drafty slats, she saw men climbing onto the back of the train as it pulled away from the circle of lantern light. Not passengers, she thought; invaders. They moved like rats in the dark, slipping in between the cars and crawling up ladders to the roof.
One broad-shouldered man in a long, black leather coat tried to pull another off the step, but the first jerked away and climbed aboard. They seemed to be arguing about something, but she couldn’t hear their words. A moment later the man in black reluctantly followed. The flash of a red bandanna tied around his throat seemed somehow out of place in the night.
Holding her breath, Beth realized that they had to be robbers. They’d probably stop the train miles from anywhere and rob, or maybe kill, everyone. She’d seen an army guard loading someth
ing in the mail car that looked like a strongbox. It must be a huge payroll, or gold, to be worth the risk of a midnight robbery. The officers with Lamont could be part of the guard, but they’d been drinking, thinking themselves safe tonight.
Beth pulled her senses about her like a cloak. Her survival depended on her being totally aware of everything and everyone around her. She’d grown up on a ranch when Texas was wild. She had to be ready to run or to fight. Without taking her eyes off the entrance to the car, she checked the gun belt around her waist.
She had to warn the others on the train.
But how? Even if she could cross between the cars to the mail car, they wouldn’t let her in. The door was bolted solid. Behind her, only cattle cars followed. No one would hear a shot in the storm, and she didn’t know if she was strong enough to hang on if she tried to cross over the top of the mail car.
In the last flash of light from the water tower’s lantern, she saw the broad-shouldered man in black take a few steps up to the roof of the mail car. He and his friend had made it over the freight car’s roof without her even hearing them. He pulled on the arm of what seemed the younger of the two robbers as if trying to pull him down but was ignored. He tried once more to draw the other man back against a course already set. The younger one shook his head and jerked away, vanishing into the night.
She thought she heard the one left behind yell, “Ryan, no!” but his cry was lost in the wind.
The one called Ryan would be moving to the engine, she reasoned. He’d stop the train at gunpoint, and then the others would move from car to car, robbing and killing anyone who tried to stop them.
As the train picked up speed, Beth noticed several horses being held by a shadow rider fifty yards from the track. They looked half-wild and in poor condition, except for a pinto with front stockings that almost bolted from the others, giving the handler fits. The horses finally galloped in the same direction as the train. They wouldn’t be able to keep up for long, but all they had to do was follow the tracks to find where the robbers had stopped the train.
Holding Brandy Blue’s neck, Beth tried to think of what to do. She closed her eyes, remembering who she’d seen on the train when she’d walked through looking for Lamont. Three passenger coaches. The first had four or five salesmen with their wares and a couple of gamblers passing the time with card tricks.
The second coach held families. One couple with a tiny baby. Another with two boys small enough to use a bench as a bed. She thought there was a third couple, but she couldn’t remember how many children. Sprawled near the doors, cowhands slept, probably heading to Dallas to work the trains going east.
The third car housed Lamont and the army officers.
Assuming all the men were armed, the passengers outnumbered the robbers, but the bandits had surprise on their side.
They might never make it to her. Surely even the drunk soldiers around Lamont would fight. But if the robbers made it to the mail car and broke in, one of the gang was bound to notice her position. Any light would show her outline next to the horse.
The old conductor had complained that this run wasn’t making any money hauling folks or stock, so they had to be after whatever was in the strongbox.
Beth moved, feeling her way in the darkness. She checked the railing against her horse. She wanted him boxed in if the train came to a quick stop. She’d known even as a child that the horses had to be taken care of first. Her father was a powerful rancher who’d never raised his voice to his daughters, but one lift of his eyebrow would send all three back into the barn to finish brushing down their mounts or make sure they’d stored everything correctly. Now, his attention to detail might save her life.
The train was traveling slower than usual because of the storm. Even without robbers onboard, they were all in danger. She might be able to jump and roll free from the train at this speed, but she couldn’t risk Brandy Blue and she wouldn’t leave him. Lamont had wanted them to ride back to her ranch together after they’d married and spent a few days in Dallas. As soon as he got to know her family better, he’d hinted that they might settle in Austin.
She knew now that he ultimately meant to take her away from Texas. Away from her home. Away from all she’d ever known and loved.
Closing her eyes, Beth fought down fear. Lamont and his men were right. She was an idiot. If the robbers thought she was a man, they’d probably shoot her on sight. If they discovered she was a woman traveling alone or that her last name was McMurray, they might hold her for ransom, or worse.
Slowly, she straightened. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Moving to the front of the car, Beth tried to guess how far they were away from town. Halfway. More. It was hard to tell.
Silently, she slipped onto the platform between the cars and struggled to see around the mail car without getting soaked. Knowing the six bandits were somewhere up front, maybe already in the passenger coaches, maybe riding between or above, waiting, made Beth’s blood cold.
Carefully, she leaned around the edge one more time, hoping to see the lights of a town. Wind and rain splattered against her face and knocked her hat backward. Beth closed her eyes and smiled, remembering something her papa had told her about facing trouble head-on no matter the storm. He’d said buffalo face the storm, and McMurrays were every bit as stubborn as buffalo.
Just as she pulled back into the blackness, the train seemed to buck in the wind, like a toy being tossed. Brakes squealed in a panicked cry and the cars shook violently.
Beth fought to keep her balance as the train left the tracks. Car after car slammed into one another.
Like the wing of a giant bird, something flew over her, turning the night another layer of midnight as strong arms circled her from behind. A moment later she was airborne, as if flying away from danger.
She heard boards splintering like twigs as whoever held her twisted so that his body hit the ground first. The jar of impact knocked her against the hard wall of his chest. Her scream blended with Brandy Blue’s cry. Something hit her head as the man holding her rolled across the rocky ground with her tucked into his arms.
A moment before she blacked out, Beth realized that she wasn’t facing a train robbery, but a train wreck. The broad-shouldered man she’d thought she might have to kill may have just saved her life.
CHAPTER 2
THE FIRST HINT OF DAWN TURNED THE EASTERN SKY A dusty pink as Beth awoke. Soft rain brushed her cheek, blending with warm blood. The man was still lying next to her, his black leather coat wrapped around them both, but he was no longer holding her. He didn’t move.
Stretching, she twisted until she saw his face. A strong unshaven jaw, brown hair, and blood. It poured in tiny rivers from his head and neck. Rain smeared the stranger’s blood over his face like a mask.
Tugging her hand free of the coat, she brushed away the hair covering his eyes and saw several cuts. One zigzagged across his forehead and into his hair. Another, just below his eye, pumped blood out with each heartbeat, and another slashed from the corner of his ear to his collarbone. All looked troublesome, maybe deadly.
He’d risked his life for hers, and she had no idea who he was or why he’d done such a brave thing.
The hit to the ground must have knocked him out cold, but she had to push hard to break free. Something primal, beyond thought, made him hold to her.
“I’ll get you help,” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. “I promise, I’ll be back. I won’t leave you here.”
As she stood, she moved the coat over him. It would do little good in the rain, but even wet, the leather would keep away the wind. Brushing her hair back, she felt the thin cut above her ear. The slouch hat was gone and most of her hair had come loose from her braid, but Beth barely noticed as dawn crawled across the clearing, revealing the chaos before her.
Twenty feet away, the stock car had shattered like a flimsy box being dropped. Two sides lay on the ground and Brandy Blue stood, all four feet pl
anted wide in the buffalo grass. Beth ignored the pain in her limbs as she ran toward her horse. He seemed content to nibble on the grass as she ran her hands along his body.
“Not a scratch,” she whispered as she hugged him. “We survived.”
He nudged her away as if bothered by her show of affection.
Beth smiled, gave him one last pat, and ran toward the wreckage.
Her car and the two hauling cattle were scattered on one side of the tracks; the others had tumbled on the opposite side. Steam still belched in gray smoke from the engine like dying breaths from a huge beast.
She felt like she was walking through a dream. A misty rain cloaked it all in a foggy reality as if trying to buffer the shock. Bleeding and crying people moved among broken pieces of the train and luggage scattered all around.
The mail car was on its side with army officers circling it. None looked badly hurt. A few had bruises. One stood guard with his arm in a sling. All seemed to have sobered to their duty.
Lamont was nowhere in sight. She crossed on through the wreckage, checking on all she passed. Somehow, in one moment, these strangers had become her tribe, her people. All, like her, battered but moving.
One of the gamblers in the front car was dead. His body lay in a twisted angle that unbroken bones would not have allowed. Everyone was busy with those still living, but Beth took a moment to kneel and close the gambler’s eyes. “Go in peace,” she whispered, almost reading his life in the wrinkles of his face. He’d survived the battles of war like most men his age had, but he’d lost his family or maybe abandoned them for the adventure out west. From his worn boots and tattered suit, she guessed his life as a gambler hadn’t been easy.
Five feet away, the conductor knelt with a man who looked like a salesman. They were working on the other gambler, but Beth saw death in his stare. They were wasting their time. The man’s flashy silk vest seemed to be dripping blood.
