9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  She cleaned her teeth and fixed her hair, tucked her derringer in her corset, then put on her bonnet and gloves. “I’m ready to go, Burke.”

  A few minutes later, Burke seated Lexie at a table in the smoking car, and she smiled graciously at the gentleman card player. He was of medium build, a little thick around the middle, and his graying brown hair was arranged carefully to cover the bald spot. His suit was the typical sack suit of a businessman, but he wore garish cuff links studded with diamonds.

  “I’m always up for a game.” The gentleman shook hands with Burke. “My name is Jensen. I look forward to a little friendly competition.”

  “We’ll see what the cards bring.”

  “I’ve never played vingt-et-un with a woman before.” He smiled at her patronizingly. “I’m sure it’ll be a challenge.”

  This man’s attitude reflected the prejudice she’d had to endure her entire college career, and certainly in her job search. “The challenge will be mine, sir, as I am just learning.”

  “But she’s a quick study,” said Burke. “Shall we begin?”

  The first hour went well enough, and Lexie learned new nuances of the game with every deal. Even as a novice, she was a formidable opponent because she had the ability to keep track of the cards—what was played, and the odds of a certain value of card in the next round.

  “Are you sure you’re a beginner?” Jensen said as Lexie raked in the pot.

  Lexie nodded but didn’t smile. “My husband showed me how it works just a week ago. I’ve only played one other time, but of course I don’t normally play cards. A woman can only do so much needlepoint, though. I was ready to do something different, so Mr. O’Shaughnessy suggested a friendly game of vingt-et-un. It’s not really poker, you understand.”

  “Well, it’s my deal, and in the interest of entertainment, and I do think we gentlemen should always entertain our ladies, let’s up the stakes to say, a hundred dollars.”

  She sent Burke her best wide-eyed innocent look. “I have enough for the first deal. But I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “You’re doing well, so why don’t you try it once, and if it’s too stressful you can quit after the next hand.”

  To Mr. Jensen she said, “All right, I’m in, as they say.”

  Burke nodded to her ever so slightly, not noticeable to Mr. Jensen. Lexie knew that if Mr. Jensen planned to cheat he would start now. Heretofore, he’d played square, but it was obvious with his card handling that he could and probably would cheat when the time was right.

  The first time around he dealt Burke an ace and of course she didn’t know what his down-facing card was, Lexie received a ten up, king down, and the dealer had an ace showing. Lexie stood at twenty, and Burke stood, so Mr. Jensen looked to Lexie to open.

  “I’ll open with twenty.” Jensen stayed right with her, but Burke threw in his cards when the pot got up to five hundred dollars. Lexie stayed in, until Mr. Jensen threw in his cards at a thousand.

  “You won, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy.” He made a big deal of counting the few bills left in his diminishing roll. “Would you do an old man a favor and let me play to win my money back?”

  By now, she knew the drill. She’d be willing to bet the next deal would have some funny stuff going on. It was Burke’s turn to deal. He shuffled and riffled the cards a few times.

  He dealt a king to Jensen, a queen to her, and a ten to himself.

  “It looks like the bidding will go high.”

  Jensen studied Burke and Lexie knew he was looking for a tell, but she also knew he wouldn’t find one. Her make-believe husband was a thoroughbred through and through, and even though she couldn’t say she approved of gambling for a living, she couldn’t help but take pride in his superior abilities.

  When all the betting was done and well over two thousand was in the pot, Jensen turned over his hole card—an ace of diamonds.

  An ace of diamonds had already been played. Lexie wondered if Burke knew that, and said, “You’re a lucky man Mr. Jensen.”

  “Sometimes Lady Luck smiles on me.”

  So far as Lexie knew, the play had been square up until the last hand. It was her turn to deal. “I’m not at all good at shuffling. Will one of you gentlemen please shuffle for me?”

  “I’d be happy to.” Burke took the deck and shuffled a couple times, then scooted the deck over to Jensen. “Would you like to shuffle for the lady?”

  “Certainly.” He shuffled, shoved the deck to Lexie, and said, “Back to you, ma’am.”

  She let him cut the deck and then dealt. It was a mixture of cards, average hands all, and the bidding was interesting—at first cautious, but progressively more lively. Jensen had an eight showing, and so did Lexie, but she felt confident because she had a king facing down. Burke had a ten showing. Jensen didn’t take any more cards and neither did Lexie, and but Burke took a card—a four of hearts. Lots of money was thrown in the middle of the table and the pot grew. Mr. Jansen appeared confident, but when listening to his words you would think he was hesitant. When all was said and done, Mr. Jensen won the pot with an ace and a ten.

  When Jensen started raking in the money, Burke put his finger on the man’s arm. “I want to show you something, Jensen, before you take that money.” He fanned the four aces and tossed them on the table. “I took out all the aces before my wife dealt.”

  “Are you saying you cheated?”

  “An experiment, actually. I found it interesting that you always get an ace at the most fortuitous moment.”

  Jensen’s gaze darted from Burke to Lexie and back to Burke.

  “I think you owe the lady some money.” Burke shuffled the aces back into the deck. “Now, let’s divvy up the money so that everyone has the same amount they started with, and let’s play a square game. Think you can do that?”

  “I’m tuckered. How much are you down?”

  Lexie told him exactly how much he had taken from Burke and from her. Jensen counted that much money from his roll and tossed it on the table, then threw in five hundred more and said, “This is for your inconvenience.”

  Burke picked up all the money, straightened it, and handed it to Lexie. “I’ll not tell anyone of our inconvenience as long as you promise not to skin people on this train.”

  “Agreed.”

  Lexie and Burke went back to the private car, but they had to go through the smoking car to get there. She noticed several men playing poker, and she got an idea. What if she made enough money to help pay expenses? She’d taken plenty of money out of the bank but that was stolen the first day, and at that time, she’d never considered living the high life such as Burke did.

  A private car must have cost a pretty penny, and once they found Patrick there was the matter of getting him married to Helen. Burke O’Shaughnessy would be her brother-in-law, a part of her family, but a missing part, like her Uncle Gillespie. She hadn’t seen her uncle since she was a small girl. Papa said some men can’t grow roots. They’re wanderers like nomads in a desert or birds that migrate south for the winter. He explained that his brother was a good man, and a smart one, but he had never married, and he probably never would.

  Once Burke and Lexie stepped into their private car, Burke couldn’t keep his hands off her, but then she couldn’t keep her hands off him either.

  “You were wonderful, Lexie-girl, just like always.”

  “In a few days, I’ll be a boring spinster again.”

  “Spinster, no. I’d call you an original. And boring? Never in a day of your life.”

  He took her to bed and did all sorts of original things to her.

  * * *

  Burke fell asleep, and in keeping with her sudden domestic inclination, Lexie decided to go to the dining car and order a special supper for them to be served later that evening. She could’ve called a porter, but she didn’t want to wake Burke, and besides she wanted to look at the menu.

  After she put herself back to rights, she recorded the day’s expenditures in her l
edger book and then set out for the dining car. She didn’t like going from car to car, but an attendant was stationed at each doorway to help the ladies across. From their private car, she had to go through the baggage car, the smoking car, and then the dining car. Farther up the train were the passenger cars, and the only car behind their private car was the caboose.

  The baggage car was difficult for her to negotiate. All of the trunks, valises, boxes and other forms of luggage were stacked floor to ceiling. Some of them stuck out and she swore they reached out and grabbed her skirts. She began to appreciate how Burke always made things easy for her—greased the wheels, he would’ve said.

  The cook greeted her with a smile. “And how’re you today, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy?”

  “Very well, thank you. I stopped by to see if you have something special on the menu today. I’d like to have a romantic meal served in our car with candlelight and such.”

  “Ah, the newlyweds. One of the attendants is familiar with Mr. O’Shaughnessy, and he swears hell has frozen over.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Excuse my French, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy.”

  Lexie didn’t know how to respond. Of course they weren’t married in reality, although she wished their situations were different, because any woman would be thrilled with Burke’s attentions. Actually, she couldn’t think of any other man she’d ever want to marry, certainly no man she’d ever want to spend time with, and definitely no other man she’d rather gamble with.

  But his stakes were high—she’d have to give up her dreams of a professorship, which was just an assistant professorship away. Even then, he might decide to wander off, just as Papa said about Uncle Gillespie, Burke was cut from the same cloth. Or should she have said dealt from the same deck.

  “The menu please?”

  “Sorry about that.” The chef handed her a folder with several sheets filled with menu items. “For a romantic dinner, and for the price of a smile, I’d be happy to prepare beef bourguignon, and we picked up a crate of berries so if you would like strawberry shortcake, it’s available and very tasty.”

  “That sounds delicious. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it. Could you serve it at about seven?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Also, do you have a nice table decoration, elegant and romantic? I’ll make it worth your while.” It was the first centerpiece she’d ever chosen on her own, without coercion from her mother.

  Lexie took her leave and headed back to her private paradise. Several men were playing cards in the smoking car, as usual. One of them recognized her, Mr. Toulson. She’d played poker with him the night of the milk experiment—the miserably failed milk experiment. Toulson was a pleasant enough sort, but not someone she would associate with.

  He stood as she walked by, and caught her by the arm. “Good evening, ma’am.”

  His touch made her bile rise and she tried to push his hand off her arm. He gripped a tighter.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Toulson.” Her tone was not at all civil, but then, his actions weren’t civil, either.

  “No, ma’am. I think I’ll escort you. After all, a lady shouldn’t be walking on her own.”

  “I hardly think walking through two railroad cars is an impropriety.”

  He pulled her closer to him, his fetid whiskey breath nearly nauseated her. “You’re coming with me.”

  The pistol pressed into her side persuaded her that he meant business. Her heart pounded and a gray veil of fear paralyzed her. She had no idea what to do or how to get away. He nudged her to the back of the car and while they were walking, he whispered, “Smile, but keep your trap shut.”

  The attendant opened the door for them, and Toulson gave him several bills. “The lady and I want a little privacy, so if you keep people out of here for fifteen minutes, I’ll double that amount.”

  The attendant sent her a sour nasty look, one of disdain, likely thinking that she was the worst sort of woman since all the train crew thought she and Burke were just married. “Is that what you want, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy?”

  She nodded in one jerky motion, her eyes pleading with him, but he didn’t get the message. The pistol poking in her side reminded her not to talk.

  Toulson shoved her into the baggage car, kicking the door shut, then barring it. “I’ve been needing a piece. My fingers have been itching to get into your drawers since I first saw you. Go ahead and struggle all you want because I like it rough, but if you make too much noise I’ll gag you. Understood?”

  She understood all right, and she was scared out of her wits. He was an evil man and he planned to molest her in the most vile manner. That she hadn’t perceived his evil ways when she played poker with him mystified her—she should’ve seen the signs.

  He wrenched her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together. The abrasive rope cut into her skin when she tried to free her hands. He lifted her chin with his pistol barrel. “Remember, girlie, stay quiet. If you try to attract attention, you’ll be the first to go.” He let out an evil chuckle. “With a little luck, maybe that new husband of yours will show up and I can splatter his guts all over the wall.”

  She had the derringer tucked into her cleavage but with her hands tied behind her back, had no way to get it. She should’ve slipped it out when she first saw him, but she had no idea she was in danger, and now she’d drawn Burke in peril as well.

  Toulson reached over his shoulder and grabbed a huge bowie knife. “This’ll make quick work of that cage you tie yourself into.”

  She panicked when he slipped the knife through the material over her breasts, and kicked him. He laughed and slapped her across the face with his other hand.

  “Now you’re showing a little spunk, girlie. Keep it up. It makes me hard.” He slid the broad side of the knife blade across her throat. She swallowed hard. “Shall we see if your blood is red? Or blue. Maybe such a fine woman as you has blue blood.”

  Lexie froze. She had to think! Toulson would kill her, so she had nothing to lose except her life, which he’d take anyway. But without the use of her hands...she calmed herself, forced her brain to take inventory of what she did have rather than what she didn’t.

  Her teeth. Legs and feet. Shoulders. Head. Skulls were hard, maybe she could use it for a battering ram. If he didn’t slit her throat first. Her voice. He said he’d gag her if she made noise. Well, he’d gag her, all right, and she’d make it count.

  Toulson worked at cutting her corset. “The beautiful thing about ladies’ unmentionables is that they make a nice package to open.” He sawed on the material as he tugged. “And I’m gonna get a lot of pleasure out of what’s in this package.”

  Her corset wasn’t laced tightly, and he’d get it off more quickly if he unfastened the hooks on the busque, but he appeared to prefer the knife. The knife. She shuddered. Her shoulders ached and her hands were numb from lack of circulation.

  “Ah, a derringer. What a nice touch.” He put down the knife.

  She had to do something and she had to do it now.

  One thing was clear—she had nothing to lose. He’d either kill her or make her wish she were dead. Summoning all of the air she could get in her lungs, she let out a blood-curdling scream. He punched her in the gut, and when she doubled over, grabbed her head and crammed a scrap of her dress into her mouth.

  Faint from lack of air, she faded, her thoughts jumbled, and she fought oblivion, only vaguely aware of Toulson yanking on her clothes and mauling her breasts. If this was the end, the death of her, at least she’d known Burke for the past week. No one should go to their grave without loving someone. The thought of him gave her hope an inner strength.

  Lexie squeezed her eyes shut, marveling over her special love for Burke. Did Helen feel this way about Patrick? As Toulson finally ripped her corset completely open, Lexie regretted that she’d completely misunderstood her sister.

  She heard a crash, yelling, the sound of bones crunching. Burke! He’d heard her scream. She dared open her eyes and drew a breath that
turned into a sob. Toulson slammed his fist into Burke’s gut, but Burke didn’t flinch and instead pummeled Toulson’s face until blood spurted out his nose. The evil man wobbled and thudded to the floor.

  For a moment, Burke stood over him flexing his fists, as if considering whether to beat him some more. But then he looked up and Lexie nodded at him.

  He removed the fabric from her mouth and brushed a kiss on her cheek before he turned her around and untied her wrists. “He hurt you, the lousy bastard.”

  “He made me go with him. He held a gun to my side and made me.” Lexie suppressed a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve told you about Toulson.” He tied the brigand’s wrists together with the rope Toulson used to tie hers. “The Pinkerton and I set Toulson up for arrest—Alden was hired by a man whose daughter had been molested by Toulson. But I thought Toulson was in jail in Manitou Springs.”

  He gave the rope one final tug, then stood and massaged her shoulders, her wrists, and her hands, the blood rushing painfully back. “I’m taking you to our car, now.”

  Lexie’s throat felt raspy and raw. She clung to Burke’s broad shoulders as if they represented life. “I love you.”

  He gazed at her for a moment, then hugged her lovingly. Then he picked her up and took her to the private car.

  * * *

  Charity, Gil, and Helen arrived in Virginia City in the early afternoon. Charity was amused and a little bit envious of Helen’s excitement to see her Patrick.

  “Calm down,” she told the young woman. “We’ll find him as soon as we get settled in the room and unpacked. There’s plenty of time. We might even eat supper first.”

  “I couldn’t eat a bite.” Helen dabbed at her hair. “But I should definitely freshen up before we find him. I want to look my best.”

  Gil signed the hotel register. “Three rooms, please,” he told the hotel clerk.