Train Through Time Series Boxed Set Books 1-3

by Bess McBride

  Drowsily, she wondered if Kyle were sleeping. For the last year, he’d adopted the habit of going to bed promptly at 10 p.m. and leaving the apartment by 7 a.m. to catch the El. Since she barely got home from class by 9 at night, she hardly saw him. Her absence to attend the seminar in Seattle would hardly be noticed in his busy world. It didn’t matter. The first flush of love had long gone, leaving the makings of a long and boring marriage in its wake. But she was determined to follow through with the wedding, if and when she ever set a date. She was tired of moving, tired of being alone, tired of staring at an unknown future and ready to settle down—or ready to settle, at least.

  Chapter Two

  An unfamiliar jolt of the train awakened Ellie. Her eyes flew open. For the most part, the train ride had been smooth, the huge silver giant effortlessly gliding along the tracks with few sounds other than an occasional whistle and no untoward movements.

  Blearily, she looked out the window. Darkness had given way to dawn, and a soft rosy glow peeped through the tall evergreens which continued to grace the landscape. Softly misted mountains appeared in the distance. She glanced at her watch. Four more hours to Seattle.

  With a crick in her neck, Ellie straightened and raised her arms above her head. She turned to ask Edward how he’d slept, but his seat was empty. In fact, something seemed to be wrong with his seat. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at it again. Something was definitely wrong. Where was the armrest she’d leaned on the night before? She ran a hand along the seat cushion, her eyes widening at the rich look and feel of the red velvet along the bench.

  Bench? Had she wandered into another car in the night? Where was she?

  A buzz of female voices from the rear penetrated her consciousness, and she craned her neck to see over the back of her seat, or rather, her bench. Six or seven young women lounged about on plush antique rattan furniture in various poses—some perched on the edge of their seats, prim and proper with clasped hands; others balanced teacups above saucers, while another young lady leaned over a pink velvet sofa and whispered to a blonde woman. An occasional tinkling laugh behind a discreet hand broke the steady hum of chatter.

  Ellie blinked and stared at their clothing. Huge hats, festooned with feathers and flowers, towered above small heads supported by long delicate necks. As a group, the young women wore a similar style of clothing, with high-collared white lacy blouses. Some wore tailored dark jackets. Ellie’s startled eyes traveled the length of their skirts—long, flowing garments in varying shades of dark colors that covered all but the tips of their shoes. The woman who stood had an impossibly tiny waist.

  With a pounding heart and a dry mouth, Ellie slid down out of sight. What was going on? She backed into the corner of the bench with her face pressed against the velvet of the upholstered bench back. She strained to make out words but could hear only the lilting rhythm of the women’s voices, broken by the timbre of an occasional male voice. She hadn’t seen any men on first glance. Ellie rubbed her sweating palms on her denim skirt and dragged in an uneven breath. The rumbling of the train along the tracks proved she was still onboard, albeit the carriage rocked and swayed more than it had the night before. An unusual odor permeated the air—the pleasant smell of cooked food combined with...was it...coal?

  Ellie chewed a corner of her lower lip nervously and pressed even more tightly into the corner of her seat, hoping to make herself invisible. She studied the carriage door just in front of her bench as it rattled with the motion of the train. Constructed of a large pane of antique leaded glass framed by dark varnished wood, the elegant door allowed as much light to stream in as possible, given the narrow confined space between cars. Lovely as it was, she hoped fervently the door wouldn’t open to expose her presence to a newcomer entering the room. Fairly sure she’d unwittingly trespassed onto a first-class lounge, she wondered how on earth she’d managed to sleepwalk her way into a luxurious car that smacked of turn-of-the-century style.

  The sound of a man’s cheerful laughter caught her ear. Against her better judgment and free will, she slid up on one knee and peeked over the back of the seat to survey the scene behind her again. Her widened eyes homed in on the author of the husky laugh as he leaned against the leaded glass door at the back of the carriage. She gasped against the velvet upholstery of the seat back, mild hysteria robbing her of breath.

  A dark head of well-groomed, thick, wavy chestnut hair crowned a handsome angular face. He smiled broadly at a woman seated in a chair nearby. The generous smile should have held her attention, but she couldn’t take her eyes off his attire. A dark blue jacket hung carelessly open to reveal a gray vest over a white high-collared shirt. Matching dark blue trousers revealed long, lean legs that began at a slender waist and seemed to travel forever until they ended at the tips of highly polished black boots.

  Mr. Debonair pulled a watch on a chain from a pocket in his vest and consulted it. With a charming smile which lit up his face, he leaned down to the young beauty at his side and spoke in a low voice. Ellie’s ears perked at the woman’s tinkling laugh. It seemed restrained, lacking gusto and spontaneity. She couldn’t see the woman’s face clearly in the back of the car.

  Ellie lowered herself back into her seat, willing herself to miniaturize. She turned a speculative eye on the stylish door in front, presumably leading to the next car. The door looked as though it opened outward instead of sliding open as did the rest of the train’s compartments. A brass handlebar preserved the glass from unruly fingerprints.

  Ellie gathered her courage as she imagined a scene where she bolted through the door and escaped into the next carriage. If she acted quickly enough, the oddly dressed passengers would never see or hear anything except the sound of the door closing behind her. If the next car turned out to be first class, she would feign ignorance—which was true—and ask to be directed back to her seat in coach.

  She lowered her feet to the carpeted floor and slid to the edge of her seat, no easy task on velvet. Just as she prepared to spring for the door, it opened wide, and she fell back against her seat. A strong smell of coal assaulted her nose before the door shut quietly behind the newcomer. A white-coated waiter of African descent precariously balanced china on a round silver serving tray with the palm of one hand while securing the door behind his back with the other.

  Ellie scooted back into her corner, but the motion caught the waiter’s eye as he took a step forward. He stared down at her, dark eyes widening at the sight of the stowaway.

  “Ah, tea is here,” a querulous female voice rung out. “Come, come, young man, bring it here. We’ve been waiting for quite some time for refreshment, and I must say I am quite parched.”

  Ellie hunched her head into her shoulders like a turtle and gave the startled young man an uneasy grin. With a plea in her eyes, she raised a finger to her lips and shook her head.

  He hesitated and blinked at her, obviously debating what to do. Ellie mouthed the word “please” as she continued to shake her head.

  “Young man.” The impatient elderly female voice forced a decision on him. He furrowed his brow, gave a slight shake of his head and moved past the bench toward the open seating area of the car.

  Ellie held her breath, wondering if anyone was going to come around the corner and demand her instant removal. She would be very happy to comply, she thought, as she eyed the door once again. She considered the wiser plan would be to exit in the waiter’s wake. It seemed likely no one would follow the young man’s progress out of the carriage.

  “Ahh, there you are.” The older woman seemed temporarily appeased by the arrival of her tea. Ellie didn’t remember seeing any senior citizens on her quick survey of the passengers. “Yes, that’s it. Two sugars will do. Thank you.”

  Ellie strained to hear the handsome man’s voice, but the tinkle of teacups on saucers and the hum of muted voices drowned him out. She kept an eye on the aisle, preparing for a quick exit in the waiter’s shadow.

  Within moments, he ret
urned to peer around the edge of her seat. She peeked up at him. His white cotton, brass-buttoned tunic jacket gleamed over a clean, ankle-length white apron which covered dark trousers. He gripped the now-empty tray tightly in both hands.

  “Miss, what are you doing in here?” he hissed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, are you?” He threw a quick glance over his shoulder.

  Ellie hunched her shoulders and shook her head. She matched the hush of his whisper.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I went to sleep in my seat last night and woke up here this morning. Seat 31B. Do you know where that is? Can I follow you back?”

  Dark brown eyes blinked. “31B? I don’t know where that seat is, miss. I’ve never heard of it. I think I’d better find the conductor and bring him to you.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s a good idea. Please do. Actually, let me come with you. He’ll figure out where my seat is. So, is this like some kind of reenactment thing?” Ellie moved to the edge of her seat to rise, her hand roaming the seat behind her in search of her purse. Oh, surely, she had her purse!

  “Reenactment?” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head inquiringly.

  “Yeah, you know, like Civil War reenactments. Where they all dress up in period costumes, act out historical scenarios?” She dropped her eyes to search the corners of her seat. Where was her purse?

  “Steward, is anything wrong?”

  The close proximity of the masculine voice startled her, and she jerked and twisted around to find Mr. Debonair standing at the end of the bench staring straight down at her.

  The steward backed up toward the door with a subservient nod in the well-dressed man’s direction. He clutched the tray to his chest.

  “No, nothing’s wrong, Mr. Chamberlain. This lady seems to be lost. I think she’s from one of the other cars, you know, the immigrant cars. I don’t know how she got in here. I’m gonna go get the conductor. He’ll take her back where she belongs.”

  Ellie flung an astonished look in the steward’s direction. Immigrant? What was he talking about?

  “I see. Well, miss, how did you find your way to this car?”

  Mr. Chamberlain came to stand in front of her. His green eyes ran up and down the length of her body with a frank appraising gaze, and Ellie took offense. She jumped up from her seat.

  “Now just a minute there, Mr...uh...Chamberlain.” She drew herself up to her entire five foot two inches and lifted her chin. “First off, you can drop that eyeing me up and down thing. It’s very rude and typically male.” An arch of one of his dark eyebrows did not deter her. “And another thing. Though this may be first class, it’s not your train or your passenger car, and frankly, it’s none of your business. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be off with the steward here.”

  The young steward gaped at her. He pressed himself into the thick glass door as if wishing he could disappear.

  “Oh no, miss. You can’t come with me,” he whispered. “It’s not safe.”

  Ellie twisted around to look behind her and caught a quick impression of the room in its entirety. Teacups stilled as the group of hat-festooned female heads looked up. She gritted her teeth, tightened her lips in a semblance of a smile, nodded in their direction and turned to face the steward.

  “Oh, sure it is. I’ve traveled by train many times. So, let’s go.”

  “Just a moment, miss.” Ellie stilled at the sound of Mr. Chamberlain’s velvety voice. She glanced over her shoulder, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of turning around to face him. Why should she?

  “Yes, Mr. Chamberlain?”

  He dipped his head to the side in a motion that cut into her anger with its charming boyishness. “I apologize, madam. You are quite right. No matter where your seat on this train, I did not have the right to stare at you so boldly. I would not have done so with any other woman in this carriage.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie murmured with a regal nod in his direction which belied her inner turmoil. The man certainly was smooth. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.” She turned toward the door. Seeing the steward still frozen in place with wide eyes, she pushed against the bar and opened the door to an unexpected blast of wind. Determined to leave with some semblance of huffy dignity, she hurriedly stepped out of the car, then reared back and faltered when she realized that the connector was covered only by some sort of canvas tarp, allowing a roaring wind to rush through the unsealed seams of the canvas. She stared at the uneven jostling between the two cars and wondered how she was going to manage to jump the crosswalk without losing her balance. With nothing to hold onto, Ellie braced herself against the wall, dizzy from the sight of the uneven dance of the connectors between the two cars and nauseated from the smell of coal and the increased rocking of the car on the platform. Her knees buckled.

  A strong hand grasped her around the waist in a reassuring grip. Though she wore a bulky turtleneck sweater, the warmth of his hand seemed to sear her skin.

  “Steady now, madam.” Mr. Chamberlain decisively hauled her back into the carriage. His accomplice, the steward, shut the door behind them and posted himself as a sentry.

  Ellie stared up at her handsome would-be rescuer as he lowered her back to the seat. He bent down to peer into her face.

  “Are you well, madam? Though you stalked very prettily out of here, you seemed a bit shaky on the platform. I thought it best to bring you back inside.” Twinkling green eyes belied the note of concern in his voice.

  Ellie nodded, tongue-tied by his nearness. Her eyes locked on the cleft in his chin—a feature which gave his lean face a virile masculinity at odds with the fancy costume party she’d inadvertently crashed. His easy grin compelled an answering smile, and she clamped her lips together and fought against his obvious magnetism.

  “Bobby, what is going on here? Who is this?”

  Bobby’s conversation partner, a young woman with golden hair swept up into a glorious Gibson-style hairdo, peered around the corner. She stared wide-eyed at a shrinking Ellie, who subconsciously raised a hand to tidy her own mop of curly brown hair, hopefully still tied back in a braid down her back.

  Bobby straightened. “Nothing to worry about, Melinda. This unfortunate young woman strayed onto our car by accident, probably at the last stop. The steward was just about to locate the conductor for us.” He turned to the young waiter still guarding the door. “What is your name, young man?”

  “Samuel, sir.” Samuel dipped his head. “But, no, sir, I didn’t bring her here. No, sir. I found her sitting right there.” He bobbed his head up and down.

  Ellie cringed. Good gravy! What was the matter with the young fellow? He seemed so nervous. Did he think he’d lose his job? Surely, they had a union! She sprang to his defense.

  “That’s right. Samuel didn’t—”

  “Samuel, would you be so good as to find the conductor and bring him here?” Mr. Chamberlain glanced down at Ellie with a dancing light in his eyes. “Our guest still seems a bit shaken from the jostling between the cars, and I think she should take a cup of tea with us here.”

  “Bobby?” Melinda moved forward to stare at Ellie with frank curiosity. “Are you sure that’s wise?” Her sweet smile took the sting from her words. “I mean...what if someone is looking for her...perhaps her...em...people from the other cars?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes and struggled to rise, though it seemed that three people hovered in her confined space all of a sudden, making it almost impossible for her to get up unless someone moved. She sank back down.

  “Listen, y’all.” She felt compelled to drawl, though she’d never lived in the South in her life. “I’m just fine, and I can find the conductor on my own. I can’t imagine how I wandered onto this car in the first place. I don’t have any people.” She tossed a quick glance at darling Melinda. “And I don’t need your tea. I don’t even like tea. So if you will just excuse me, I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Melinda broke out into the laugh that Ellie recognized from momen
ts before. Her laugh certainly seemed spontaneous, but she repressed it behind a graceful hand.

  “Nonsense, madam,” said Bobby. “You’ll do no such thing. You cannot travel between the cars. I insist that you sit down at once, until I’m certain you feel better.”

  Ellie glared up at him. His six-foot frame might intimidate other women, but she had no doubt she could jump up and wriggle past him to escape through the door. If only she could cross to the other car. What kind of carnival train was she on, anyway?

  “I’m perfectly fine, Bobby.” The name hardly suited him. “Just a drop in my blood sugar, I’m sure. I probably just need to eat something.”

  Bobby inclined his head in a gesture that smacked faintly of arrogance. “My name is Robert Chamberlain, madam. Robert. Only my irrepressibly spoiled sister calls me Bobby...and always against my wishes.”

  “Whatever is the matter up there, Robert?” The quavering voice of the elderly woman seemed strong enough to reach the front of the car, though thankfully she did not appear, as well.

  A faint hint of lavender wafted into Ellie’s nose, and she twisted her neck upward to see several more young women peering over the top and around the corner of her bench. The large beribboned and feathered hats bumped into one another as they ogled her with curiosity.

  Ellie hunched into her seat, her cheeks burning. She suddenly understood how animals felt in a zoo. Hopefully, these women wouldn’t start petting her.

  “It seems we have an unexpected guest, Grandmother.” Robert favored Ellie with a considering gaze while he allowed his voice to carry to the rear of the train. “A woman lost her way on the train and found herself in our carriage by accident. She feels a bit unwell at the moment.”

  Ellie glared at him, her chaotic thoughts struggling to form choice responses.

  “Well, bring her back here, Robert. Let me look at her. I’d be grateful for a new diversion.”

  Ellie’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to retort, but Robert managed to beat her to it.