by Bess McBride
A knock on the door startled both of them. Matthew rose and opened the door a crack.
“Excuse me, sir. I need to check your tickets.” Sara could just barely see a porter standing outside their door.
Matthew reached into his coat pocket and produced their tickets.
“Mr. Webster and Miss Reed,” the porter said. “What time would you like to dine?”
“About six o’clock,” Matthew said. “But we would like a tray delivered to the compartment, please. My sister is not feeling well enough to venture out to the dining room. Could you bring some coffee in the meantime?”
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The porter appeared to scribble something on paper before turning away. Matthew peered into the hallway before shutting and locking the door again.
“Six o’clock, huh?” Sara asked. “Are you trying to make sure I have to make the decision whether to stay and eat or get off in Spokane hungry?”
Matthew’s lips parted into a handsome wide smile. “Well, yes, Miss Reed. That is what I intended.”
Sara responded to his smile and hoped he hadn’t realized that she had contemplated the latter. She wasn’t sure what the future held, or even the coming days, but she knew she didn’t want to see the last of Matthew Webster’s smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Hours later, Matthew awoke from a doze. A glance out of the window revealed night had fallen, and he checked his pocket watch. Five thirty. Darkness came so early in the fall.
He raised his eyes and studied Miss Reed’s face as she napped on the opposite bench. Settled on her side with her cheek against the pillow and lower limbs drawn to her chest, she looked quite childlike.
Normally a man of temperate emotions, Matthew had no experience with the tumultuous emotions such as he had experienced over the past two weeks, from his grief at Emily’s rejection to the surprising fervency with which he sought to protect Miss Reed from whatever mysterious bad fortune had befallen her.
She stirred, and he rose to pull her blanket higher onto her shoulders. Her eyes opened, and she sat up hastily.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“If we are on schedule, I think we must be in Idaho, about a half hour from Spokane. I am sorry to awaken you. Your blanket had slipped off your shoulders, and I thought you might be cold.”
She clutched the blanket to her stomach.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m starved. What time is dinner again?”
“I ordered it for six o’clock.”
“Oh, that’s right. So I don’t think about getting off the train.”
Matthew responded to her smile with one of his own but said nothing.
Miss Reed rose and stretched with a languorous arching of her back and extension of her arms out to the sides. Matthew eyed the movement appreciatively but looked away discreetly when she turned to look at him.
“Is there any chance we can go for a walk or something? On the train? Can we go from car to car?”
Matthew rose. “Yes, of course. I thought you might not wish to encounter Mrs. Feeney, so I did not suggest it.”
“I don’t want to, but I feel a little bit cooped up in here,” she said.
“Come, let us stroll,” he said. He opened the door and peered out, but no one was in sight. He pulled the door open wider and allowed her to precede him.
“Which way?” she said in a whisper as if she worried about being overheard.
“To the right,” he said. “I believe the dining car is next and then the observation car.”
“You lead,” she said.
Matthew stepped in front of her and made his way down the narrow corridor, stopping often to see that Miss Reed followed. They reached the end of the car, and he pushed open the door.
Miss Reed stared at the vestibule.
“I’d forgotten about that,” she murmured.
He cocked his head. “Are you frightened, Miss Reed? Come, take my hand.”
She slipped her hand into his, and Matthew led her through the rather chilly and noisy vestibule and into the dining car. At 5:30, the dining room was already full of passengers, merrily talking and eating. Waiters moved up and down the aisle serving dinner.
Miss Reed hesitated just inside the doorway and pulled her hand from his. Matthew turned.
“Do you want to return to the compartment?”
She shook her head.
“No, I just have to run the gauntlet, right?”
Matthew smiled. “I suppose one could look at it that way. If I were alone, I would simply follow the maître d’ to my seat, smiling and nodding along the way. I do not think of it as a gauntlet.” He turned and surveyed the dining room with fresh eyes.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she said. “You belong here. I’m pretty sure everyone will be staring at me as I pass through.” She mumbled, almost as if to herself.
“But I cannot imagine why, Miss Reed. No one here knows of your past, of the unfortunate incident in Kalispell. With the exception of the Feeneys, and I do not see them here.”
Miss Reed blinked as if in a reverie and met his eyes. “That’s true,” she said. She looked down at her skirt and smoothed it before reaching a hand to her hair. “No one knows,” she repeated.
She reached for his hand. Matthew was touched by the trusting gesture. Normally, a man would offer a woman his arm in public, not hold her hand in such an intimate gesture, but he submitted happily.
They moved through the dining room and entered into the observation car. A porter, carrying a tray of coffee, paused and greeted them.
“Good evening, sir, ma’am. Can I get you something? We’re pretty busy tonight.”
“No, thank you,” Matthew said. “We’re just strolling.”
“Very good, sir.” The porter turned away and moved down the corridor.
Sara remembered the layout of the observation car, but she was fascinated to see it when she wasn’t as panicked as she had been the first time.
Matthew led the way down the corridor, past several compartments, a card room, the porter’s kitchen, and into the large observation lounge. Comfortable easy chairs lined either side of the car, notable for large plate glass picture windows, the majority of which were now curtained. Several passengers sat at writing desks tucked against the walls. The lounge bustled with passengers, leaving no available chairs.
This time no one stared at her or her clothing.
“The porter was right. They are busy in here this evening,” Matthew said.
“That’s okay. We have the compartment. I’m sure dinner will be there soon.”
“Are you ready to return?”
Miss Reed nodded.
They retraced their steps and arrived at the compartment in time to feel the slowing of the train and to hear the requisite whistle as it neared the outskirts of Spokane.
The porter arrived with their food in minutes.
“Thank you, George,” Matthew said as the porter set the tray down on a side table. “Are we on time for Spokane?”
“How do you know all their names?” Miss Reed asked. “And why are all the porters named George?”
Matthew smiled.
“I do not know all their names. All porters are referred to as ‘George,’ a reference to ‘George Pullman,’ the inventor and builder of the sleeper compartments.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Miss Reed said, biting into her food, and Matthew was pleased to see her appetite had returned.
As they ate, the train slowed further, and the lights of Spokane came into view. Miss Reed stopped eating and stared out of the window with a look of what Matthew could only call consternation on her face.
“Does something trouble you, Miss Reed?” he asked. His heart pounded, and he set his own food aside. Was she going to announce that she was leaving the train? He was not ready to say good-bye to her. He still had so many unasked questions, so much that he did not understand about her.
She continued to stare out of the window, almost pressing her face aga
inst it.
“No,” she said, though her tone belied her denial. “I just didn’t realize that Spokane was so big in nineteen hundred.”
“Did you not?” he asked, somewhat relieved that her words presaged no immediate departure on her part.
She glanced at him, then back to the window with a shake of her head.
“No, not really.”
She said no more, and Matthew refrained from asking further questions. Her actions and words suggested she had never been on a train before, certainly not one that had pulled into Spokane, but how was that possible, given that he had first found her on the train upon its departure from Spokane?
The train slowed further and came to a stop in front of the station. Matthew watched Miss Reed out of the corner of his eye. He could not possibly stop her if she wanted to detrain in Spokane. That was her right, but he fervently hoped she would travel on to Seattle with him.
She rose hastily, and his heart dropped to his stomach. He forced himself to remain seated.
“I’m just going to go out for a minute while we’re here. Can you come with me?”
Matthew jumped up with alacrity. “Yes, certainly.”
“You thought I was going to take off, didn’t you?” she asked as she pulled her shawl around her shoulders. Matthew noted she eschewed her hat.
“I am afraid that I did,” Matthew said, donning his overcoat and hat. “I do not think it is quite proper for me to concern myself with your activities, but the truth is, I do.”
He let out a deep breath at his confession.
Miss Reed slipped her hand under his arm.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I don’t have anywhere to go. I just want to see the station.”
Matthew nodded and tucked her hand against his side as he opened the door and led her out of the compartment. They stepped down to the platform and the chill of a brisk fall night, joining other passengers who descended to take advantage of the respite from the confines of the train.
Matthew had thought Miss Reed desired a stroll, but she seemed frozen in place, staring at the monumental two-story brick building, much larger than the modest train depot in Seattle.
“It’s the same one!” she exclaimed.
“I beg your pardon?” Matthew asked.
She threw him a quick look.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just mumbling.”
“Rather cryptically, I must say.” Matthew could not resist commenting.
Miss Reed pulled her hand from his arm and laced her fingers together tightly. Matthew instantly regretted his words.
“I apologize, Miss Reed. I did not mean to cause offense,” he said.
“And I apologize for blurting out what must seem like random odd comments. I really do. I wish I could explain, but I can’t.”
“I understand,” Matthew said. He wished he did, but he did not.
As if she could read his mind, Miss Reed said, “I doubt it, but thanks for saying so anyway.”
She reached for his arm again, and he closed his hands over hers as if he could keep her there. He had the worst fear, however, that he could not.
A furious whisper caught his ear, and he turned to see the tight face of Mrs. Feeney, standing nearby with her husband. Before turning his back on them to shield Miss Reed from their view, Matthew nodded to the poor man, who had the grace to look embarrassed.
“I cannot believe...she...” The higher pitches of Mrs. Feeney’s voice carried. “No amount of money...”
He could not, however, prevent Miss Reed from hearing Mrs. Feeney’s words, and she peered around him to see the commotion.
“Come, let us return to the compartment before I lose my temper,” he said.
“Oh, man, don’t do that,” Miss Reed murmured. “I’m sure that will only make things worse. Right now, no one is listening to her but her husband, and he looks like he wishes he were a hundred miles away.”
“I am sure that he does.” He escorted Miss Reed back onto the train and to the safety of the compartment. He pulled the curtains shut, as they opened up to the station.
“I really must do something about her,” Matthew said with a frown as he removed his coat and hat. “I cannot have her spreading gossip all over Seattle.”
“I don’t see what you could do to stop her,” Miss Reed said in a tight voice. She laced and unlaced her fingers together in her lap.
“I will think of something,” he said. “I promise.”
Matthew retook his seat, and they sat without speaking until the train left the station. Matthew had many questions he wished he could ask, but it behooved him to remain silent.
“I think I’ll get some sleep,” Miss Reed said. “I don’t know why I feel so tired.”
“You have had a difficult few weeks. I am not surprised that you are tired,” Matthew said. “I will resume my doze as well.”
She nodded and lay down on the bench, pulling the blanket over her lower limbs. Matthew stretched out his legs and crossed his arms.
“Will you be warm enough without a blanket?” she asked.
“Yes, I am fine, thank you.” He smiled. She closed her eyes, and he followed suit, letting his cares dissipate for the moment. A sense of relaxation stole over him and he slipped into sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
A sudden lurch in the train awakened Sara, and she opened her eyes. The bench opposite her was empty, and she pushed herself upright hastily. The tangled mess at her ankles indicated she was still dressed in long skirts. But where was Matthew?
“Matthew?” she called out. The compartment lights were still on as they had been when she fell asleep. Matthew didn’t respond. She rose and tapped on the washroom door. She supposed she could have waited until he came out, but somehow she couldn’t make herself wait.
“Matthew? Are you in there?”
No answer.
The hard knot in Sara’s stomach, never really far away, tightened painfully.
“Matthew?” she called out to nowhere in particular. He wasn’t in the compartment. His overnight case, hat and coat were on the overhead rack. He hadn’t been a figment of her imagination.
Still, she couldn’t ignore the feeling of panic that his disappearance caused. She pulled open the door and ran into the hallway, looking to the right and to the left. No Matthew.
She turned right and hurried down the corridor. Maybe he’d gone to the dining room to get something to eat. She had no idea what time it was.
Sara pulled open the door to the vestibule and, without fear this time, ran through the connector and pushed open the door to the dining car.
She stopped short. The dining room was in near darkness, with the exception of several sconces that provided a dim light. Her heart dropped to join the knot in her stomach.
“Matthew?” she whispered, though she knew he wasn’t in the darkened room. She ran the length of the car and hurried into the observation car. Similarly lit, it seemed as if the passengers had gone back to their compartments to sleep. What time was it anyway? she wondered. She moved down the corridor, peeping into the card room and the porters’ kitchen. She tiptoed past the closed compartments, not wanting to disturb anyone sleeping. She reached the end of the car and found the observation lounge empty.
Her breath came quickly, both from running and from anxiety. Where on earth was Matthew?
She turned and ran back through the cars, reaching her compartment without seeing even a porter. As she reached for the door, Matthew appeared at the opposite end of the corridor.
Her heart leapt with joy. She hadn’t imagined him! He hadn’t disappeared!
“Where have you been?” she hissed. Matthew put a finger to his lips and approached. He guided her into the compartment.
“I woke up and you were gone. I couldn’t find you anywhere!” she babbled, turning to face him. She planted a hand on his chest.
Matthew looked down in surprise as he took her hand in his. He placed a kiss into the palm and released it. Sara stared at her
hand in stunned silence.
“I awakened and, restless, I decided to stroll through the adjoining cars. I think I hoped to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Feeney, but the hour was too late for a social call.”
Sara pressed her hand to her face in bemusement. “What time is it?”
Matthew pulled his pocket watch out and consulted it. “Ten o’clock.”
“I looked for you in the dining car and the observation lounge, but those are shut down.”
“I am sorry, Miss Reed. I did not mean to worry you. I strolled in the opposite direction. It was not so long ago that we could not travel from car to car. I enjoy the modernity of the ease with which we can traverse the cars now, given the vestibules.”
“Well, you scared me!” she said, growing unexpectedly angry.
“I am sorry,” he said again. His smile though was unrepentant. “I truly did not mean to frighten you, but perhaps you can imagine how I felt when you disappeared from the train two weeks ago.”
Sara shook her head. “It’s not the same. I can’t explain it, but it is really not the same.”
Matthew sat down and crossed his legs.
“How is it different?”
Sara sank to her bench and clutched the blanket to her chest. She longed to confess everything to him, to share her nightmare with someone she trusted, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. He would think she was crazy.
She shook her head but pressed her lips together.
Matthew leaned forward.
“I know there is something about you, Miss Reed, that is...unusual. Why can you not confide in me? Have I not proven myself trustworthy?”
She bit into her bottom lip and shook her head.
“I wish you would just call me Sara,” she said by way of distracting him.
Matthew blinked and sat back with a widening smile.
“As you know, it is only proper for me to call you Miss Reed, but I can call you Sara in private if you prefer,” he said. “Can you not tell me what secret you harbor, Sara?”
At the intimate sound of her voice on his lips, Sara almost gave in and told him everything. Maybe the off-putting and more formal Miss Reed was better.
