by Ingis, Gail
“I heard distressful news.”
Hank cocked an eyebrow. “Distressful news? What now, Leila?” He stopped, the humor and desire gone from his voice. “What’s so important you had to wait up?”
Leila’s heart skipped a beat, and she rose, her knees threatening to buckle. “Billy gave me some peculiar information at dinner.”
“Out with it, woman. You know it irritates me when you dither.”
Leila’s throat went dry, as though a strong wind had passed through the bedroom and dried all in its path. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from trembling. “Billy said you’re going on a trip west and leaving on Monday. Is this true?”
Hank’s nose scrunched up, followed by a laugh and loud burp.
Leila’s ire rose. “What is so funny? Is it true?”
“Yes, I have a nine-month job out west. What of it?”
“Just when did you plan on telling me?” The words seethed from her lips.
“Good Lord, woman, you’re making a fuss about nothing.” His hand sliced the air as though brushing away a fly. “I was going to tell you once the plans were finalized.”
“Monday seems rather definite.” Suspicion clawed at her stomach. “Perhaps you weren’t planning to tell me at all. I was mortified to hear about it from Billy.”
“I would have told you.” He turned his back on her and crossed the room to change into his nightshirt. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired.”
“Billy said he arranged train passages for you and your party to St. Louis.” He would never admit Sissy was joining him.
Hank glared at her. “You want the whole thing?”
“Of course. What route are you taking? And who, exactly, are you traveling with?”
“St. Louis by train, stops to pick up supplies and the train to St. Joseph. There we’re taking a ferry to Atchison to catch the Overland Mail Coach to San Francisco. Satisfied?” He turned down the bedcovers and blew out a heavy breath. “We’ll discuss the specifics later. I’m going to sleep.”
Leila straightened her back and swallowed hard. “What if I told you not to go?” She stared at him.
He lifted the covers, one knee on the bed. He stopped and turned slowly to face her. Light reflected in his eyes, giving them a fiendish aspect.
Leila focused on each breath she drew, her fingers clenching and unclenching. I can’t force his fidelity, but I can make it difficult for him.
“I am sorry, Leila, did you just say I couldn’t go?”
Her stomach churned, and her words leaked out in a squeak. “No, I asked what you would do if I said don’t go?”
“What you did do is fan my temper. And, as you well know, my temper is short. Cut the damn inquisition. I am going to sleep.”
Leila stared at her husband. He settled among plush pillows and pulled a duvet over himself. She knew better than to push him, especially after a night of carousing. But she couldn’t shake the ominous stab in her gut. If he were set on going, she would accompany him. Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Wrestling with her conflicted emotions, she sat beside him on the bed and held his angry gaze, hoping his heart would soften. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I forgive you this time.” He pulled the top of her gown off her shoulders and gave her his hungry look.
She shuddered, and he let her go.
“Now, let me get some shuteye.”
“Perhaps I could assist with your writing.”
He yawned and turned his back to her. “Tomorrow, darlin.’”
Pricilla Ashburn paced the floor, ranting. She looked ominous. Leila felt an automatic tightening in her stomach. “Is something wrong, Mother?”
“Have you taken complete leave of your senses, Leila?” She spun, glaring at her daughter. “How can you demand to go on this bachelor trip with your husband? For heaven’s sake, what do you think people will say? The railway doesn’t even run to California. You’ll have to travel the vast distance by wagon, hardly suitable transport for a lady. Not to mention the threat of Indian attacks and robbers.”
“Why should I tolerate my husband taking Sissy Lanweihr with him?”
Pricilla waved her hand. “That is what men do. Our job is to maintain the moral high ground. Ignore the woman. Acting like this is undignified.”
Leila almost choked. “I am undignified?”
She backed away and held up her hand to stop her mother’s protest. “What do you mean, Mother? I am undignified? That’s degrading, why . . . why am I undignified?”
“Yes, my dear,” she said, sounding somewhat dictatorially. “You must rise above the situation and keep your poise.” She straightened her already ramrod back and pinned Leila down with her look of reprimand. “At least his mistress saves you the onerous duty of, ah, submitting to your husband’s baser demands.”
Leila almost laughed. If Mother only knew Hank couldn’t carry out his “base demands.” She rose from the bed and rang for Biddy. “Well, like it or not, I am going.”
“I despair of trying to save your reputation. I shan’t be able to hold up my head in society again.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage, Mother.” She expelled a sharp breath as her mother stormed from the bedchamber.
Biddy walked in to Leila’s bedchamber. “So, yer goin’ to chase after yer husband?”
“Hardly chasing.”
“I need to tell ya something, child.”
Leila cast her eyes down and rearranged her jewelry in a velvet box. “It sounds serious.”
“I want to go back to Ireland for a bit. My youngest daughter is havin’ her first babe.”
Leila dropped a pearl necklace and hugged her. “Of course you must go. I’ll miss you, though.”
“Aye, I’ll miss ya, too, colleen. But I’ll return one day.”
Leila held her at arm’s length. “Retire, my dearest, and enjoy your life.”
Biddy blinked as tears welled. “Ya mean that?”
Tears slid down Leila’s cheeks. “I do. I’d hoped you’d be nursemaid to my babies one day, but I’ll probably never know the joy of holding a baby of my own.”
“Ya will, colleen. Ya will.”
Chapter 6
Thick smoke billowed from the steam engine. Rork’s lungs filled with the soot-laden smog.
People milled about on the platform, sidestepping porters stowing luggage.
Jostled by the chaos, Rork pulled out his pocket watch and checked it for the tenth time. He searched the crowd for Hank. There was still ample time before having to board the train. They’d agreed to meet at noon, but Rork was early. The clatter of footsteps on the wooden platform beat out a hypnotic rhythm. He looked over the heads of the swarming crowd.
After his first journey west four years ago, he’d yearned to return. The plains of this new land were rare portrayals. A smile tugged at his lips. This was a superb opportunity to further his artistic reputation, but he wasn’t sure if he could ever overcome the failure his teachers predicted. “Boy, you aren’t good enough, you’ll never be a painter.”
A beauty wearing vibrant yellow crossed the platform. Leila Dempsey. Damn. Now there is no hope for peace of mind.
Servants trailed several paces behind, laden with her luggage. Leila’s eyes met Rork’s then flickered away.
She stopped in front of him and nodded, her eyes lowered. “Good day, Mr. Millburn.” Her voice held as much warmth as an icy mountain brook.
“Mrs. Dempsey, what a pleasant surprise.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a moment too long.
Her face reddened, and she yanked her hand away. The toe of one boot beat a tattoo on the wooden planks, drowning in the sounds of the crowd weaving around them.
Hank emerged from a nearby bar and walked to them, pinching his nose. “Why do women douse themselves with that smelly French stuff? Damn expensive too.”
Rork raised one eyebrow. Leila’s perfume invoked a longing in him. “You never mentioned your wife coming. What a wonderful surprise.”
Hank glared at Leila. “It sure as hell isn’t wonderful, and I wasn’t aware either—until now.”
Leila’s mouth tightened. “I told you I intended to come.” She stalked off, her back stiff.
“Must have slipped my mind, darlin’,” Hank called after her. “That damn woman can be irritatingly willful.”
Rork followed her retreat. Lord, if she were mine I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. He glanced at Hank. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I thought Miss Lanweihr was supposed to join us in Philadelphia.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Could make things a little awkward.”
“Damn awkward.” Hank’s mouth pulled down. “I’ve gotten myself into a hellish predicament. Thought I had the situation under control, but unfortunately, Leila got wind of our trip. You’re damn lucky you aren’t married.” He blew out his cheeks and released a long breath.
“Women can be a bloody curse. Leila thinks Sissy is tedious and flighty—pure jealousy.” He chortled. “And Sissy thinks Leila joyless and prissy.” Hank smothered a laugh. “Think I’m inclined to agree with Sissy.” He pulled a hipflask from his pocket.
“Now that Leila has taken it into her head to join me, my hopes of having a good time with Sissy are hampered. Trick will be keeping them away from each other.” He took a swig of whiskey from the flask. “I don’t suppose you’d consider keeping my wife entertained?”
Rork slid a glance at Leila mounting the step into a railway carriage. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises. Your wife doesn’t seem particularly partial to me. And don’t ask me to keep Sissy occupied.”
“Well, that would be counterproductive. Sissy is the one I want to roll.”
“That woman grates on my nerves. Don’t know what the hell you see in her. She seems useless.”
Hank chortled. He rocked forward on his toes slightly and raised the volume of his voice as though he wanted to drown out the noise of the rail station. “Useless, I wouldn’t say she is useless, rather quite the opposite.”
Rork hid his distaste. “If your wife is so unappealing, why stay married?”
“Told you, her money, dear boy. Her damn father holds the purse strings and doles out a certain sum every year—wish the old skinflint was dead.” Hank bent to pick up his valise. “Women, the scourge of my life. I expect this will be a long, taxing journey.”
“How did you get yourself into this dilemma?” Rork couldn’t help being amused by Hank’s woes.
“Sissy accepted my invitation to meet me later, but when she heard I was taking the train to St. Louis, the chit harped on about joining me at the start. I refused to accommodate her, but damned if she didn’t just turn up, luggage and all.” He rubbed his cheek. “Thank God, before Leila showed.”
Rork hoisted his valise. “I keep my life free of romantic entanglements to avoid complications. I’m sure one woman is enough to manage in the confines of a train, but two?”
“You’re a wise man. I married well. I don’t need the money, but my father-in-law provides my wife with an income that I am expected to manage.”
“I’m impressed.” Rork walked to the passenger coaches.
“Not a word about this foul-up. The consequences would be dire.” Hank held up his hand, mimicking a pistol to his head.
Rork chuckled. “You’re a rogue, but I won’t say a word.” He sighed. So much for a bachelor trip.
Hank grinned. “We could make it entertaining. You occupy my wife while I dally with Sissy.”
Rork’s belly lurched. God, the man is serious.
Chapter 7
A swirl of voices echoed in the dining car. Gaslights cast a sickly yellow glow on the passengers as if they had no life in them. Somewhere a child cried, followed by a sharp reprimand.
Leila sat alone on a plush red velvet bench and sipped some of her tea, grimacing as the brew scalded her mouth. She stared at the landscape draped in a warm afternoon sun. Muted conversations coiled around her as she nursed a bruised ego and tried to quell her unease. Hank had accepted the invitation to join her for tea, but she wondered if he would come.
“Hello, darlin.’”
She released a breath and wrinkled her nose as he bent and pecked her cheek. He reeked of whiskey.
“Must go. I’ll return shortly—need to attend to business.” He slipped into the adjacent bar.
She craned her neck to see him. Butterflies beset her belly. Hank sat on a stool next to Rork Millburn. He had a drink in hand and a cigar in his mouth. She couldn’t join them. And even if it were allowed, it wouldn’t do to incur Hank’s wrath further.
Leila leaned back and saw Sissy, smiling vacantly at Hank’s back as he conversed intently with Millburn. It was obvious neither man wanted to spend time with the woman. Leila kept a careful distance from Sissy, who was all but ignored.
Hank turned and smiled at her, and Millburn laughed at something Sissy said.
Leila chewed her lip. Clearly, Sissy was not ignored. A sudden explosion of anger erupted behind Leila’s eyes. It was absurd that she had to chase her husband across the continent to ensure his fidelity.
Certainly her mother had made it clear that Leila committed a serious breach of etiquette by joining her husband on a bachelor spree, and people would talk about her unladylike conduct.
I don’t care what my mother or anybody else says. Leila pouted. Anyway, what’s one more scandal? Rumors surrounding Hank’s excesses and philandering had plagued her marriage from the outset.
She poured more tea and took a sip of the hot brew, casting a glance at Hank. Millburn’s shoulders were twice the width of her husband’s, and he was a head taller than Hank. They seemed well ensconced at the bar. She sighed and contemplated returning to her compartment.
“Leila?”
She looked up. A tall woman with blond curls pinned high on her head stood beside the booth. A smile touched the woman’s alabaster face. “Leila Dempsey? Is that really you?”
“Cornelia?” Leila gaped at her friend. She and Cornelia Hancock had attended boarding school together for eight years.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” she bubbled, taking Leila’s arm. “Oh, do give me a hug.”
Leila rose and was enveloped in perfumed arms. “How wonderful to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, my friend.” Cornelia dropped into the opposite seat, smiling broadly. “Where are you going? What are you doing in Albany? Last I heard you were in Florida.”
“Yes, well, we’re back in New York, and now we’re on our way west for business with my husband and his partner,” Leila said, eyeing her warily. Cornelia was part of the social circle and would have heard the latest news. Leila suspected she still corresponded with everyone from their class.
“I’m stopping in New York City to meet a Doctor Brown, who works with orphans, then I’m going on to St. Louis to pursue a nursing career.”
“Cornelia, how wonderful!” Leila was happy to have companionship, and her melancholy dissipated with the news from her friend.
Rork left Hank pawing Sissy and stepped into the crowded dining car. His eyes sought Leila. Her laughter curled around his heart, and her smile enslaved him. Lord, this is the first time I’ve seen her so radiant—and that yellow dress fits her to perfection. Her being married nagged at him in the deepest recess of his mind. It was the sense of not having what he thought he wanted, but couldn’t because she belonged to another. Leila’s smile lit her face while she chatted.
She looked up, and their eyes met. Her smile faded.
“Is everyone ready for dinner?” He hoped no one noticed the slur that slid off his thick tongue.
Hank entered the dining car, clearly inebriated, and plopped down next to Cornelia. “Why, hello, darlin’. Didn’t realize you were on the train. What a delightful surprise.” He took her hand and kissed it, his eyes flirting with her. “Haven’t seen you since our wedding. You’re gorgeous.”
A flush crept into Cornelia’s cheeks. She glanced apologetically at Leila.
Rork hesitated. He had no choice but to sit with Leila. Hank did say to entertain her.
Hank raised his chin and lifted his open hand toward Rork. “Cornelia, this is my traveling friend, Rork Millburn. Rork, this lovely lady is my wife’s friend, Miss Hancock. Watch out for him, darlin.’” Hank winked. “He’s an artist, and you know what they say about artists.”
Cornelia held out her hand. “Pleased, Mr. Millburn.”
Rork nodded and raised her hand to his lips. “Charmed, Miss Hancock.”
“Cornelia is headed for St. Louis to pursue a nursing career,” Leila said, her eyes alight with admiration.
Hank took a swig from his hip flask. “Seems a waste of a lovely woman.”
Rork’s eyebrows rose. “I admire your courage, Miss Hancock.”
“Thank you, Mr. Millburn.”
“St. Louis is a dangerous and divided city. I’m sure there will be scores of nursing opportunities. I hear casualties are increasing.”
