Until Tomorrow

by Rosanne Bittner

  The skinny man glanced at his partner. “Let’s sit someplace else. He moved to another seat farther back, and the heavy-set man followed, glancing at Nick and smiling nervously.

  Nick moved his gaze to Addy, and they just stared at each other a moment. “This is a surprise,” Nick finally spoke up.

  “More for me than you! I thought you were well on your way to Indian Territory. Sit down, Nick.”

  The train whistle blew again, and the car lurched as the steam engine got underway. Nick took the seat across from Addy, sighing deeply and resting his elbows on his knees. “Obviously I, uh, changed my mind. I guess that little bit you said to me about starting over got me to thinking, and I figured maybe this place called Central was the place to do it. There must be a lot of jobs in a fast-growing town like that.” He smiled softly. “And I also figured at least there would be one person there that I know. I felt a little bit obligated to kind of look out for her once I’m there. I just didn’t expect to land on the same train on the way. I figured you were way ahead of me.”

  Addy felt a flush come into her face at the thought that he cared enough to be thinking of her. “It took me a few days to recover in Unionville. Then I visited my sister in St. Louis before leaving. Did you take a riverboat to this point?”

  Nick nodded. “Landed just this morning. I decided I’d better not hang around Missouri more than five minutes, considering the reasons I’m leaving in the first place. I got a ticket on the first train headed west.”

  Addy glanced around at the other passengers, none of whom seemed to be giving Nick any special notice. “You took a chance, Nick.”

  He shrugged. “Probably. But then I’m dead, remember?”

  She watched his blue eyes and nodded. “Yes. That’s what I told the authorities.”

  He leaned a little closer. “Well, since Nick Coleman is dead, I figured I’d better get rid of the name, too. My name is now Cole Parker. Remember that.”

  Addy nodded. “Cole Parker,” she repeated quietly. She shook her head. “This is all so strange. I never dreamed I’d look up and see you standing there like that. I worried and wondered about you, Nick … I mean, Cole. How is your shoulder?”

  He rotated his left arm. “Pretty good, thanks to a certain excellent nurse.”

  Addy made a face at the memory. “A terribly amateur job. It’s a wonder you can use that arm at all.”

  Again their gaze held, both of them experiencing feelings of joy and wonder, and both of them fighting stronger feelings, thinking it was impossible to feel this way. She was a proper lady, headed to a school teaching job; he was a desperado. No matter how straight he went now, he would always have once been an outlaw. Addy fought a ridiculous urge to hug him, for the loneliness of the journey had set deeply in her soul. To see even one person she knew, even though he was a bank robber and had killed a man in front of her eyes, brought great relief. Now the trip would not be so lonely. Nick would be with her the whole way. She reminded herself then that she must not call him Nick. His name was Cole … Cole. “I’m glad you changed your mind, Cole. It’s time for a lot of people to put the past behind them.”

  He nodded. “It’s not always very easy, especially when it comes to visit you in the night.”

  She saw the agony in his blue eyes. “I know. Maybe with time, and by starting a new life in a new land, the dreams will go away.”

  He looked down at his hands. “Maybe. You know, you’re the only one I ever told all the details to about what happened.” He met her eyes again. “I don’t know why. You’re just easy to talk to, I guess.” He leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know. This whole thing has been kind of strange and ironic, hasn’t it?”

  “Sometimes fate leads us into strange situations,” Addy answered. “I have to admit I’m glad it led you to this train. I was not looking forward to making this entire journey alone. There are apparently places farther west where it isn’t wise for a woman to be caught on her own. I have some newspaper articles about Central, by the way.” She reached over and picked up the canvas bag where she carried the papers and took one out. “You can read about this place we’re going to.” She handed it over, but Nick took it hesitantly.

  “I, uh, I don’t read very good. My father took me out of school at a young age to help on the farm. I kept that farm going for a lot of years, even after my folks died.”

  “Read what you can. Maybe I can read some of the articles to you if and when we reach someplace quiet.” She frowned. “Your parents must have been young when they died.”

  The passenger car rattled and clacked, rocking back and forth as the train developed speed. Prairieland passed by quickly, and a hot wind and sooty smoke began filtering in through the windows. People began wiping their faces with handkerchiefs, and Nick squinted. “They died a year apart from each other. My father just collapsed. Heart attack, the doctor figured. My mother died from congested lungs. Her parents were already dead, but both my father’s parents were alive. They had come over here from Ireland. My grandfather and father were both big and dark-haired like me. Those are the grandparents I was living with when the Union rabble attacked our farm. My grandparents were good people. Losing them along with my little girl just made the hatred inside me burn that much hotter.” He adjusted his hat. “What about your folks, your husband? I’m not so sure you gave me the full details.”

  Addy felt the old hurt. “I told you most of it. I met my husband in college. He had just graduated.” She looked down and toyed with a piece of lace on her dress. “We were married just a short time before he went off to war. It seems like such a long, long time ago now.”

  “How was the visit with your sister?”

  Addy smiled sadly. “Not much of a visit at all. Her wealthy Union man refused to let me stay at their house. When our mother was alive, he wouldn’t let Harriet have anything to do with her. The only time I saw her during those years was when she came down for Mother’s funeral.” She shook her head. “I hardly know Harriet any more. She’s very cold and distant.”

  The train whistle blew again, and Nick looked out the window to see a herd of cattle not far away. “That’s too bad. We both have a lot in common, I guess, losing all our family, leaving home and memories behind.”

  Addy’s eyes teared. “Yes. I was very happy once. You were, too.”

  Nick nodded, and again Addy reminded herself she must think of him as Cole. He pulled a thin cigar from his shirt pocket. “Do you mind?”

  Addy looked down and brushed at the soot on her dress which only smeared. “Why should I? This whole car is filling up with dust and soot.”

  Cole lit the smoke and took several puffs as he watched the passing scenery out the window. Addy studied the clean lines of his face, a straight nose, full lips, high cheekbones. He wore a new wide-brimmed hat, and she smiled inwardly when she realized it was probably purchased with money from Howard Benedict’s bank.

  “We’ll probably see some buffalo farther on.” Cole turned to look at her, and she was embarrassed that he had caught her staring at him. “Probably some Indians once we take the stagecoach.”

  “Indians! I never thought of that.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “They’re a little restless right now, I hear. During the war they did a lot of raiding. The army didn’t have enough men to fill their forts out west and protect things. I expect the coach line knows the safest route to take, so I wouldn’t worry too much. Besides, I imagine there will be more people going west again now that the war is over.”

  Their eyes held on the words. Now that the war is over. That war still raged in some peoples’ hearts. Bitter, bitter memories. A scarred forehead and an arm covered with burn scars, a little girl buried on a farm somewhere in Kentucky, a dead husband buried in an unknown grave.

  “I never asked you where your sympathy really lies,” Cole said. “Your husband and father fought for the Confederacy. How about you?”

  Addy thought a moment. “
I would have to say the Union. I never thought it was right to try to divide the United States.”

  Cole slowly nodded. “Neither did I. I only chose the Confederacy because of what happened to my family at the hands of raiders who called themselves Union sympathizers.”

  Addy was startled to feel sudden desire move through her when she looked deeply into Cole Parker’s eyes. It was a sweeping pull at her insides that she had not felt in years. She reminded herself that in spite of his good looks, this man had lived the life of an outlaw, running with men like Jack Slater, hating, robbing, killing. He also apparently liked his whiskey, used it to bury bad memories. He was a very unsettled man, who might turn to someone for all the wrong reasons, the kind of man a woman had to be wary of. His eyes moved to glance at her breasts, and just the look made her tingle all over. It was not difficult to judge his thoughts, considering the fact that part of his attraction to her was because she looked like his first wife.

  To have to be close to Cole Parker for the several-hundred-mile journey ahead could stir feelings better left buried. He was too undependable, and she was on her way to teach school. Such a position brought with it special rules. Female school teachers were expected to be proper ladies who, if they were even allowed to associate with men, must choose only the most respectable kind. She reminded herself that she had been through too much to allow any special feelings for any man right now. She didn’t know her own heart, and loneliness sometimes caused a person to make unwise decisions.

  She folded her hands primly over her lap. “I’m glad you happened to get on this train,” she told him, glancing at his gun. “At least I know I’ll be safe. How did you learn to draw a gun so fast, like the night you shot Jack?”

  He shrugged. “When you decide to live by the gun, you figure you’d better know how to use it well. I was already a good shot with a rifle—did a lot of hunting back home, was a sharpshooter in the army. It just came kind of naturally, I guess.” He leaned back in his seat, his knees nearly touching her own because of his long legs. “Mind if I put my feet up on the seat next to you?”

  “No. I don’t mind.”

  He moved his booted feet onto the seat, then tipped his hat forward a little over his eyes to relax, still puffing on the thin cigar. Addy, too, put her head back to try to rest, but she could not shake the pleasant feeling deep inside at being close to this man again, the relief she felt to have him along, the worry she felt over how awkward that closeness might become before this journey was over.

  Seven

  The train rumbled over open country, wide, flat land with few trees. Addy and Cole, both accustomed to hilly, forested country, were amazed at how the land began to flatten out, until in some places it seemed a man could see forever. Here and there they passed a farm, most of them rather sad looking, omens of a harsh life in a harsh land.

  The train stopped a few times, and people had only minutes to clamor off and find the train station privies, leaving even less time to grab some food at eateries set up along the way. Meals were usually nothing more than a piece of meat and a stale biscuit, the prices outrageous. With every passing mile Addy wondered more and more if she had made the right choice. It seemed that every little town they passed was more primitive than the last, dustier, lonelier. More than once the engineer stopped the train to allow cattle to meander over the tracks, hundreds, sometimes thousands of them herded along by whistling, shouting “cowpunchers,” the conductor called them. They looked wild and unkempt, but Addy could see by Cole’s eyes that he was wondering what such work might be like. He would fit right in with men like that, and Addy half expected him to leave the train and go join them at times, but he remained sitting near her, apparently determined to go all the way to Central.

  It took three days to reach Abilene, and each day grew hotter than the last. Cole grew strangely quiet, and Addy suspected it was for the same reason she also spoke little. Perhaps it was not wise to allow themselves to get too close. They were, after all, as different as night and day. Not only that, neither of them was emotionally ready to get too close. If not for the bank robbery, they would never have known each other at all; and after that first strange meeting at the bank in Unionville, counting the days at the cabin and the time spent on this train, they had known each other a grand total of six days—only six days of actual time together.

  Six days. Why then, Addy wondered, did she feel this odd closeness to the man? Perhaps it was just a matter of fear and loneliness. She found herself hoping Cole Parker would stick to his decision to go all the way to Colorado. There they could go their separate ways, each finding his and her own answers to what their futures held for them. She could already feel the friendly acceptance of the committee in Central who had hired her, and it felt good to be going off to a respectable job for which she would be well paid. Apparently in gold towns money was no object. She would be given free room and board, and was being paid nearly twice what a school teacher would make in the East.

  “We’s approachin’ Abilene,” the conductor announced. “End of the line for the Kansas Pacific, folks, but one day these tracks will go all the way to Denver.”

  Addy looked at Cole, who sat two seats down from her but facing her. He had decided not to sit next to her all the time, afraid of what people might think, since she was traveling alone. Addy suspected it was partly because he wanted to remain removed emotionally, and she was grateful. She wanted the same.

  The steam whistle let off several loud blasts as the train rattled and chugged into Abilene, which did not look much different from other dusty towns through which they had passed, except that it seemed a little bigger. As in the other towns, the streets were mere dirt, with piles of horse manure scattered here and there. Addy curled her nose at the smell, not just of horses, but large pens of cattle. She could see them from her window now, hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The intense heat of the day only accentuated the odor of what she figured had to be tons of manure, and she hoped that it was not going to be like this all the way to Central. At least the city was in the mountains. There would be no cattle there, and she had read they had even bricked some of their streets.

  The train finally came to a halt, and Addy rose, feeling filthy, embarrassed at how she must look. She dabbed at the perspiration on her face with a handkerchief, noticing the hanky looked dirty when she took it away. She had taken every opportunity to wash the soot from her face at every stop, yet it covered her again, and she supposed she was only smearing it when she tried to wipe at the sweat.

  “I must look a mess,” she told Cole when she reached his seat.

  He stood up behind her and followed her out of the car. “No worse than anybody else,” he answered. “Looks to me like it’s no better out there in the streets than it is inside. There’s nothing but dirt everyplace you go in these parts.”

  They disembarked the train car, and Cole pushed back his hat a little. “You need some help getting your things to a hotel and all?” He looked around. “If there’s a decent place for a woman to stay in this town.”

  “Perhaps you could find someone with a wagon who might haul my trunks and baggage for me. I’ll be fine on my own after that.”

  Cole caught the meaning in the words. Don’t get too close. It wouldn’t look right, a man showing her to a hotel room. There were more reasons not to get too close, and he damn well knew it. It had been hell traveling with her these last three days, having to watch her, that face that was pretty even with soot smudged on it, those green eyes. She seemed so alone, and he wanted to hold her, wanted to relieve his own loneliness. “I’ll unload my horse and gear and then find somebody for you. Just stay here on the station platform beside your baggage.”

  He left, and Addy watched him walk to a car toward the rear of the train. Men like Cole Parker fit out here. He was unaffected by all the dirt and the lawless atmosphere. She figured he was probably growing excited about going to a new place, totally confident in his ability to t
ake care of himself. Men like Cole could go anyplace in the world and have nothing to fear.

  Only three other women were on the train, and two of them were apparently traveling with husbands. Perhaps they were all related, as they disembarked together, and the two women stood talking while the men began seeing to their baggage. Addy wondered if they were all going farther west like herself. The third woman exited the train, and Addy thought she dressed rather brazenly, wearing dresses cut much too low, although the dresses themselves were well made, with matching hats and parasols. She had traveled here from Independence with a heavy-set man who always wore a suit and hat, but the woman wore no wedding ring. She and the man with her exchanged words, and the man nodded and headed for the baggage car. The woman, who Addy guessed was about her same age, strolled toward her. She had a confident, rather hard look to her, and she looked Addy over as she approached. “Hello.”

  Addy nodded. “Hello.”

  The woman looked down at Addy’s hands. “I can’t help wondering. You’re apparently a widow, since you wear a wedding ring on your right hand.”

  “Yes,” Addy answered. “Why do you ask?”

  The woman shrugged. “I just wondered if maybe you’re here for the same reason I am. You’re very pretty. We could open our own place together.”

  Addy frowned. “Our own place? Doing what?”

  The woman snickered. “I guess maybe I was wrong.”

  “I don’t understand. I’m headed for the city of Central, Colorado, to teach school. What business are you in that you thought I could join?”