A smothered groan from Fern snapped Violet's train of thought.
Fern's hand moved to her belly. "I think my labor's started."
"It can't be," Madison said, his face a study in worry. "You've still got a month to go."
"I've done this before," Fern said, struggling to sit up. "I remember what it feels like."
"We should get her to bed," Rose said.
"I think you ought to take her to the hospital," Violet said.
All eyes turned to Violet.
"She's going to have trouble. She's been uncomfortable for weeks. When is Dr. Ulmstead supposed to arrive?"
"Tonight. I have someone meeting him at the train."
Fern attempted to get to her feet, but she didn't have the strength.
"I'll get the carriage," Monty said and dashed from the room.
"Don't you worry," Madison said as she lifted his wife out of the chair. "Dr. Ulmstead will be here about ten o'clock."
Violet had a terrible feeling that might be too late.
* * * * *
"She's bleeding," Violet told the doctor after they had made Fern as comfortable as possible.
"I know that, Miss Goodwin," the doctor said, angry at her interference. "What do you expect me to do?"
"She could die if it gets worse."
"I'm well aware of that. Women die in childbirth all the time."
"You've got to stop the bleeding."
"There are some things doctors can't do, Miss Goodwin. Stopping that kind of bleeding is one of them."
Violet bit her tongue and hoped Dr. Ulmstead would reach Denver in time. Madison sent bulletins every thirty minutes by telegraph to the stations along the track. They were handed to the doctor when the train stopped for water or fuel. The only message the doctor had sent was to keep Fern as still as possible and monitor the bleeding.
It was still just a trickle, but Violet knew something was torn. It could break loose at any time. If it did, Fern could die in minutes.
So could the baby.
The tension in the waiting room was grim. All the family was there except Jeff. He was still at his office. Everyone turned toward a young man who entered with a telegram in his hand. He handed it to Madison.
"What did the doctor say this time?" George asked.
"It's not from the doctor," Madison said. "It's from the train station at Bennett. There's another train on the track. It's headed straight toward the doctor's train."
"I thought you had arranged for the tracks to be clear," George said.
Madison crushed the telegram in his hand. "I did, but some son-of-a-bitch has put his train on the track thinking he can take advantage of a straight shot to Kansas City. I have to find Jeff."
"I'll go," George offered. "You can't leave Fern."
Violet jumped up. "I'll go. You both need to stay here. I can't do anything but argue with the doctor. That isn't helping anybody."
"I can't let you go. It's not your responsibility," George said.
"Let her go, George," Rose whispered to her husband. "If anything happens to Fern, you're the only one who could keep Madison from killing that doctor."
"Use my carriage," George said. "Tell him to take you anywhere you want."
* * * * *
Peering through the glass panel beside the door, Violet could see a light coming from the back of the bank. But no matter how loud she knocked, she got no response.
"Let me, ma'am," the driver said. He pounded on the door with his fists. When that didn't bring a response, he kicked with his foot. Violet was afraid he'd break his toes.
"There's someone coming," the driver said. "And none too soon. You'd think he was deaf."
Jeff peered through the glass, his angry frown replaced by a look of surprise when he saw Violet. He unlocked the door.
"Fern has been taken to the hospital," Violet began without preamble. "She's in very serious condition. I came to tell you there's a train on the tracks blocking the doctor's train."
"I thought Madison had cleared the tracks."
"He did, but something happened. If the doctor doesn't get here soon, Fern is going to die."
"Keep your horse moving," Jeff said to the driver. "Come inside before you freeze," he said to Violet. He headed back to his office without waiting for her. He entered and went straight for the telephone hanging on the wall. He lifted the receiver and jiggled the cradle. "Give me the Kansas Pacific Railroad Station," he said, "and be quick about it."
Jeff fidgeted while he waited. "This is Jeff Randolph, President of the First National Bank," he said when someone finally answered. "There's a train heading east on the Kansas Pacific tracks. Whose is it, and where's the first siding where it can pull over?"
There was a pause.
"I don't care who told you what. If you don't answer my question immediately, you won't be working for anyone in this town ever again."
Another pause.
"The bastard!" Jeff exploded and hung up the phone so violently Violet was surprised it didn't break. "Philip Rabin put that train on the tracks."
Jeff jiggled the phone cradle again. "Give me Arthur Tynon."
Violet recognized the name of the president of the Kansas Pacific Railroad. Jeff turned to Violet. "Go tell the driver to hire a fresh horse. We may have some hard riding to do."
"Where's he going to find one quick enough--"
"In the stables down by the river. Hurry."
Violet scurried away.
"Arthur," she heard Jeff say into the phone, "Jeff Randolph here. I've got a problem I need your help with. Here's want I want you to do."
* * * * *
By the time Violet returned to the office, Jeff had completed his call and was putting papers on his desk into neat piles. He damped the fire in the stove, grabbed his coat and herded Violet through the door. He locked his office and the front door.
Jeff helped her into the carriage, but didn't get in after her. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"To see Rabin."
"What are you going to do?"
"Stop that train."
"I'm coming with you."
"Go back to the hospital," Jeff said and turned away.
"I'll follow you," Violet told him.
Without saying a word, Jeff got into the carriage with her.
* * * * *
Rabin was in his office. Jeff went in despite the clerk's efforts to stop him. He tossed the man aside as if he were a child. Rabin looked up from his work, shocked to see Jeff storming into his office. He glanced to where his man was picking himself up off the floor. Violet thought she saw fear in Rabin's eyes.
"Get your train off the track," Jeff said.
"I don't know what you mean," Rabin stammered.
"I know all about it. It can pull over at Magnolia and let our train pass."
Violet closed the office door against the goggling stares of the staff. She watched Rabin collect himself, turning into the shrewd, hard businessman who had become one of the wealthiest men in Denver.
"The hell I will. You can't come barging in here, shouting at me to--"
He never finished the sentence. Jeff's hand shot out and caught him by the throat. Violet stared in horror as she saw Jeff lift Philip Rabin out of his chair and from behind the desk by his neck. Rabin's face started to turn purple. He clawed frantically at Jeff's hand, but he couldn't break his hold. Violet couldn't figure out how Jeff managed it with one hand, but she did know Rabin was about to choke to death.
"Let him go, Jeff."
"Not until he orders that train off the track."
"He can't do that if he's dead," Violet said as calmly as she could manage. "And it won't help the situation if you're arrested for murder."
But Jeff seemed beyond the sound of her voice, beyond reason. She had never seen such deadly rage in any man. She knew then Jeff could kill Philip Rabin if she didn't do something quickly.
"Let him go," she said, panic causing her voice to flutter. She pulled on his arm, but
it was like iron. All her strength couldn't cause it to waver.
"Jeff," she pleaded, "he's not worth going to jail. Think of what that would do to your family." She looked at Rabin. She was staggered to see that despite his struggle for air, hatred radiated from him eyes. Philip Rabin hated Jeff Randolph. That's why he put that train on the track.
"Don't you see, this is what he wants. He doesn't care about that train. He's just trying to cause you and your family as much trouble as possible. If you don't put him down, he's going to succeed."
Jeff's fingers relaxed their hold, and Violet drew a deep breath. He still held Rabin suspended off the floor, but his color gradually changed from blue to red.
The phone rang.
"Answer it," Jeff said to Violet. "I told Arthur to call me here."
Very reluctantly, Violet picked up the receiver and placed in against her ear as she had seen Jeff do. "Hello," she spoke very uncertainly into the small horn that protruded from the box.
"Who the hell is this?" a voice crackled into Violet's ear. She jumped involuntarily. She sound of a human voice coming out the small, black earphone she held in her hand was unnerving.
"This is Violet Goodwin," she managed to replay. "I'm answering for Jeff Randolph."
"Damned peculiar," the voice grumbled. "I never knew Jeff to let a woman know his business."
"He can't come to the phone right now."
"Never mind. Just tell him it's a trainload of potatoes headed for Chicago. Rabin bribed one of the directors. He offered to split the profits with him, told him Jeff was trying to make the Denver & Pacific more powerful. The bastard is trying to play one railroad against the other."
The man rang off. Feeling very much like she'd just had a supernatural experience, Violet hung up the phone and repeated the message to Jeff. She was relieved to see him release Rabin. She wasn't so pleased Jeff let him drop to the floor.
"Now call your minion and tell him to get that train off the tracks," Jeff said.
Rabin glared at Jeff, hatred in his eyes. "Why should I do that?"
"Because there's a doctor on it," Violet said. "If he doesn't get here soon, Fern Randolph might die."
"I don't believe you," Philip said.
"Why would we lie to you?" Violet asked.
"From what my wife said, you'd do anything to get Jeff's ring on your finger. Or Harvey McKee's." His lip curled. "From what Betty Sue says, you may have already."
He couldn't move fast enough to escape Jeff's fist. The blow sent Rabin hurtling against the wall. Violet threw herself between Jeff and Rabin.
"No!" she screamed, pushing on Jeff as hard as she could. "He's just saying that to make you angry. Don't play into his hands."
There was a furious pounding at the door. "Mr. Rabin!" a voice shouted, "you okay in there?"
"He's fine," Violet answered without leaving her position between Jeff and the dazed Rabin.
For a moment, the issue hung in the balance. She knew if she hadn't gotten between them, Jeff would never have mastered his temper. Gradually he backed away.
Someone outside continued to rattle the door handle, to try a key that didn't work, but when they heard nothing else from the office, they stopped.
"Why won't you call that train back?" Violet asked Rabin.
Rabin glared at Jeff but didn't answer.
"It must have to do with money," Jeff said. "I've never known you to care about anything else. I'll buy the cargo from you. How much do you want for it?"
"I won't sell it," Rabin spat.
"Why not?" Violet asked. "Why do you care as long as you get your money?"
"It's business. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"I don't discuss business with women."
"I can explain it," Jeff said.
Violet was pleased to see he had himself under control. She just hoped the cruel smile on his face didn't mean he had something even worse in mind.
"You know nothing about it," Rabin said, but Violet could tell from his expression he was afraid Jeff did.
"Do you remember when I said the Chicago commodities market was in an uproar?" Jeff said to Violet.
"Yes. That's the first time you worked through the night."
"There's a potato shortage. Prices tripled in less than a week. Philip is sending that train to Chicago, hoping to make about a five hundred percent profit."
Violet didn't need Rabin's admission to confirm Jeff's words. His expression of shocked fury was enough.
"I kept my clerks up all night rounding up potatoes from every corner of the West," Jeff said to Rabin. "I've already shipped enough to cause the price to drop five dollars a ton. My last train went out this morning. I've shipped more than fifty thousand tons."
Violet did some quickly calculations in her head. "That's a profit of at least two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
"See," Jeff said to Rabin, "she can understand."
"So my potatoes aren't worth dirt," Rabin said. Shock and fury waged a battle for control of his features.
"They aren't worth what you paid for them," Jeff said. "If you'd asked me, I could have told you to save your money. Now are you going to call that train back, or are you going to sell those potatoes to me."
"At a loss?"
"I'm afraid so."
"You can't stop the train," Rabin said. Rage burned brightly in his eyes. "By the time it reaches your train, it will be past the siding. Your train will never get to Denver without backing up and going around."
"Before you show Miss Goodwin what a stubborn fool you can be, let me explain a few things you don't know."
Rabin's expression turned vicious. "What have you done?"
"Arthur wasn't pleased when he heard about your little trick. So he talked to Will. Will wasn't happy either. They're rivals, but they don't like being made to look like fools. They've dispatched a second train behind yours. They will simply transfer the doctor to the second train and speed him back to Denver. In the meantime, your potatoes will be sitting on the track. My brother and I are prepared to wait until they rot."
"Or the price drops so low you won't be able to sell them without a huge loss," Violet said.
"I told you she had a good head for business," Jeff taunted Rabin. "Maybe I should bring her to work at the bank. Think of what a combination we would make."
Sparks of hope shot through Violet, but she was quick to remind herself Jeff was taunting Philip Rabin. He probably had no thought of how his words might affect her.
"You're trying to ruin me, just like you did when you stole the railroad accounts," Rabin shouted. "You've always wanted to ruin me."
Someone threw himself against the office door. They were trying to break it down.
"I only asked you to pull over and let the train carrying the doctor pass. My sister-in-law is seriously ill. Her husband cleared the tracks from Denver to Chicago. I won't let all his work be ruined now."
"But you want me to take a loss!" Rabin shouted.
Another crash against the door, but it held.
"I don't care whether you take a loss or not," Jeff said. "I just want the tracks free. I offered to buy the cargo. If, knowing Fern's life hangs in the balance, you refuse to let that train pass, I will do everything in my power to ruin you."
"Bastard!" Rabin screamed and threw himself at Jeff. Jeff simply stepped side. As Rabin charged by, Jeff delivered a blow to the side of his neck. Rabin stumbled over a chair and knocked over a table. The crash of glass was succeeded by the sound of splintering wood. Rabin's staff had finally forced the door open. They stopped in stunned amazement to see their employer lying in the floor amid the rubble, Jeff and Violet nowhere near him.
"Get out," Rabin screamed at his gaping staff.
"But--"
"Get out!" Rabin shouted and threw a splintered table leg at their heads. They withdrew, closing the broken door as best they could.
"How much will you give me for the potatoes?" he asked Jeff, rage making his w
ords hard to understand.
Jeff told him.
"I'll lose twenty thousand dollars."
"Would you rather lose everything? Plus, I imagine your agent will be enraged when your shipment doesn't arrive. I doubt he'll want to work with you again."
"Stop crowing and give me the money."
"Send someone around to the bank tomorrow. I'll write you a check."
"How do I know you'll live up to your word?"
"The same way you knew I'd ruin you. Once I give my word, it's good."
"Get out," Rabin spat.
"Come Miss Goodwin. I don't think we're welcome any longer."
"I'll get you back for this!" Rabin shouted behind them. "If it takes me the rest of my life. I hope the bitch dies and the kid with her!" he screamed as they reached the door.
Jeff turned back, but Violet grabbed him by the arm. "Forget him," she ordered. "We have to get back to the hospital."
After a slight pause, Jeff turned and strode from the office. Violet followed, horrified Philip Rabin could hate so much he was willing to sacrifice the life of a woman and her baby to get revenge.
"Would you really have tried to ruin him if he hadn't agreed to stop the train or sell his potatoes?" she asked Jeff as they walked down the hall toward the stairs.
"Nobody threatens my family. Any one of my brothers would have done the same thing."
"But how can you do that -- destroy a man -- without compunction?"
"He would have done the same to me if he could."
"Philip Rabin is a cruel, meanspirited, detestable man. You're too kind."
Jeff stopped and turned to face her. "What makes you say that?"
Violet looked startled by the intensity of his question.
"I've seen you with Essie. The only person who can do more is her father."
"Oh, that. You don't think--"
"Then there's me."
He had started forward again, but he paused. "What about you?"
"Even though I'm a damned Yankee, you still like me."
Jeff didn't say anything until they were inside the carriage.
"To the hospital as fast as you can," he told the driver before climbing into the carriage.
He settled himself across from Violet. "Now tell me what makes you think I like you."
Violet Page 26
