Seducing Susannah: The Bride Train

by E. E. Burke

  “Can we, Momma?” Danny pleaded, making cow eyes. He had the begging part down, and it was clear his mama wasn’t immune, as her face showed the struggle. Ross made a mental note to make sure Danny remained on his side.

  “No. We won’t inconvenience Mr. Hardt.”

  Ross suspected her opposition had less to do with inconvenience, and more to do with her aversion to feeling obligated, especially to him. “It’s not an inconvenience. I have access to a private car in order to conduct business. If I want, I can put a bed in there.”

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. “Thank you, Mr. Hardt. You’re very gracious, but we cannot accept.”

  Danny hung his head. The poor kid looked so discouraged after having his two big chances shot down—first with the horses, and now the chance to sleep in a rail car.

  Ross could sympathize. His father’s all-fired stubbornness had cost him dearly. While he admired Susannah’s courage, her prideful refusal to accept his help was hurting her son. He reached over and put his hand across the neat stacks she’d made, which interrupted her sorting and got her attention.

  “Mrs. Braddock. I appreciate your diligence and concern for my comfort. But your son’s security is more important at the moment. I can offer you and Danny a safe place to stay until you find something more to your liking. Will you do me the honor of accepting?”

  * * *

  Ross Hardt’s private rail car was parked on a section of track just beyond the depot. The sides were painted dark green, with MRFS&G Railroad stenciled in gold above the windows.

  Susannah kept a tight grip on Danny’s hand so he wouldn’t dash ahead and race up the steps, forgetting his manners in his excitement. She hated being obligated to her new boss—more than she already was—but he’d been right in saying that she must do what was best for Danny, and finding a place to stay was the best thing she could do at the moment. Her pride had to be put aside for now.

  The railroad agent’s long strides put him ahead of them. Ross wasn’t a slow walker, something she’d noticed before, and in the office he’d gotten up several times to go to the window. Had he been fidgety as a child? If so, he’d learned to control and channel his vivacity into productive work, something she hoped she could teach her son. Ross had coerced Danny into sitting still and reading, but now the child expected to ride a horse. She supposed he would have to learn some time, so she would accompany them to the stables and decide whether it was safe.

  Their host waited at the bottom of the steps leading up to the platform. “Allow me to assist you.” His drawl came out more pronounced when he was practicing politeness, and made her wonder again about the kind of life he’d led. He had come from good breeding, that much was apparent.

  As his fingers closed around her hand, she trembled. If a mere touch sent heat coursing through her veins, she hated to think what his kiss might do to her. She’d surely go up in flames!

  He held onto her fingers just long enough for the polite gesture to become something else…something that verged on improper. Hadn’t Rose urged her to open her eyes? She didn’t want to look, but she did. The heat in his hooded gaze confirmed what her friend had told her.

  Heart racing, Susannah took the remaining steps without assistance, then waited with her arm around Danny’s shoulders until the door was unlocked and opened.

  How had she missed his interest? She’d been so focused on disliking him while they were engaged in a battle of wills. This startling insight changed nothing. After she was free to choose her own suitor, she wouldn’t consider Ross Hardt. He was too impatient, not to mention arrogant and domineering. Too much like her father. She could never marry a man like that, not even if he suggested it, which he hadn’t.

  She lifted her skirts to step over the threshold, and Danny pulled away from her and ran inside. “Don’t touch anything!” Everywhere they went, she said the same thing. At some point, the command had to sink in. At least, she hoped so.

  The inside of the passenger car had been converted into living quarters. Two benches faced a table in the front, and on the opposite wall, a small woodstove had been installed. At least they would have somewhere to heat water and she could manage to cook, if she could afford to buy food.

  “Nothing fancy, but you’ll find it comfortable.” Ross’s voice came from over her shoulder and his nearness distracted her momentarily. In that instant, Danny flew from the front of the car to the back, heading for a berth suspended with chains.

  “Look at this!” He grabbed at the side of the berth, trying to hoist himself up.

  “No, Danny, don’t touch—”

  Blanket, sheets and a thin mattress came tumbling off the bed on top of him. Falling backwards, he stumbled into a chair, which fell against a small table where a kerosene lamp—the type that could be hung from a hook on the wall, only this one wasn’t—rocked dangerously.

  She managed to catch the lamp before it toppled to the floor and the glass burst and kerosene went everywhere, but she couldn’t do a thing about the bed clothing, which ended up in pile on the floor. Her son, the human whirlwind, had struck again.

  “I didn’t mean to…” Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he looked fearfully at the towering railroad agent.

  Susannah held her breath in wretched anticipation of losing their room within moments of being ushered inside.

  Ross tossed the thin mattress onto the berth, swept up the bedclothes, draped the blanket over the chair and handed Danny one end of a sheet. “Help me fold these, and then we can look around.”

  The relief on her son’s face nearly made her cry.

  Ross didn’t even appear to be put out. He acted as if he dealt with an excitable little boy every day and knew exactly how to handle him, by giving Danny something to do with his hands.

  She released a pent up breath. “Thank you.”

  Ross might not be the ogre she’d imagined, but he still wasn’t someone she could trust. She couldn’t let on she was aware of his interest, or encourage him in any way.

  While the other two folded the sheets and blanket, she found a hook near the back door and hung the lamp out of her son’s reach, then looked around for other things he might destroy…like that porcelain pitcher on the washstand. Fortunately, there were few other breakables in the sparsely furnished car. There were few furnishings period.

  Somehow, she’d imagined the railroad agent living in the lap of luxury. She’d overheard the settlers saying men like Hardt were rich and didn’t understand their struggles. If this was an example of Ross’s wealth, he wasn’t doing nearly as well as most of the merchants in town. Or maybe he was one of those men who hoarded his gold and didn’t spend anything. But if he were a miser, he wouldn’t have offered to pay her enough to cover her fare and expenses, or put her up in his personal car. His behavior didn’t make sense in light of the pressure he’d put on her to find a husband.

  “Mr. Hardt, do you know how to use this?”

  She turned in time to see Danny reach for a holstered gun hanging on a coat rack, of all places. Before she could call out, Ross had lifted the holster out of Danny’s reach.

  “Oh my goodness! Danny, keep your hands to yourself!” Fear and frustration made her voice shrill, and her son cringed.

  “I was only lookin’.”

  “No harm done.” Ross put his hand on Danny’s shoulder and guided him to a bench. “Sit here. We can look at the gun together.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ross—” Susannah clapped her hand over her mouth…too late. His given name had just popped out. To her relief, he didn’t react to her breach of good manners, maybe he hadn’t noticed. Strange, how his name sounded familiar on her lips, and somehow…right.

  No, it was wrong to imagine any kind of familiarity between them, and she would be a fool to encourage it. In fact, he might consider her easy to manipulate because she was a widow and without resources, and assumed that if she wouldn’t marry, she would be open to a convenient liaison. She wo
uld disabuse him of that notion.

  “It’s safe for Danny to look at the gun while I’m here to supervise.” He placed the weapon on the table and leveled a stern look at her son. “Only when I’m here. Not any other time. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Danny settled down, sprawling his arms on the polished oak table, and watching with rapt attention as Ross removed the gun from a worn leather holster.

  Susannah scooted onto the bench next to Danny, just in case. She shuddered to think what might happen should her son get his hands on a gun.

  “Did you serve in the war?” At some point, Danny asked every man this question.

  “I did. I was a captain.” Ross engaged in conversation as he removed the gun’s cylinder, which was loaded with bullets.

  Her stomach knotted, an instinctive reaction. She hated guns, and she couldn’t help it.

  “My father was a soldier too. Were you brave?”

  “I led brave men.”

  Susannah was surprised Ross didn’t include himself, although she assumed if he’d been at the front, leading, it went without saying that he had courage and bravery.

  He curled his fingers with easy familiarity around the smooth wood grip of the gun, which was darkened from use. How many men had he killed with that gun? Had he discharged death with the same stoicism? “First rule about guns, don’t handle one if you haven’t been taught how to use it. When the day comes that you have a gun—”

  Her heart accelerated. “Danny won’t have a gun!”

  Ross arched an eyebrow and looked at her skeptically. “He’ll need to learn how to use one.”

  How irritating that he thought he knew better than she what her son needed. “He’s seven. What does a child his age need with a gun?”

  “I’m not saying he needs one now, but it’s not too early to teach him how to avoid hurting someone or himself.” Ross handed the revolver to Danny, sans cylinder, while continuing to hold her gaze, challenging her authority. “Out here, knowing how to handle a gun is a matter of practicality, as well as safety.”

  Tight-lipped, Susannah wrested the weapon out of Danny’s hands. Her son was too young and guns were dangerous, even when handled by people who knew how to use them. “Practical or not, I don’t want Danny touching guns.”

  “Momma, please!” Danny whined. “Mr. Hardt said I could.”

  “And I said no.”

  “What do you suppose his father would say?”

  Ross’s question caught her off guard. Shock rendered her momentarily speechless. This man knew next to nothing about her, even less about Danny’s father, yet he assumed he had the right to challenge her.

  She thrust the weapon across the table. “Considering that his father was killed by his own gun, I should imagine he would recommend caution.”

  Danny’s head jerked around, his gaze quickly turning from surprise to accusation. “But…you said he got killed in a battle.”

  Susannah swallowed what felt like her entire foot. Oh, why had she opened her mouth?

  Ross had pushed her too far.

  Still, she should’ve controlled her temper. Now she’d ruined the only image her son had of his father, destroying the story of bravery and heroism she’d spun. “He did die in battle. Unfortunately, it was his own gun that killed him when it misfired.”

  Danny’s eyes widened with distress. “Does that mean he wasn’t brave?”

  “Of course he was—” Susannah’s response snagged on the thickness in her throat. She had no idea whether Dan had been careless, or if the weapon had been faulty. She’d been left guessing after being given only minimal information. Knowing her son would one day ask questions about his father, she had come up with what she thought was a credible story, without going into gruesome detail. All she’d wanted was for Danny to feel proud.

  “A man can’t choose how he dies, only how he lives. It sounds to me like your father was a man who lived with courage and conviction.” Ross spoke with calm assurance as he replaced the cylinder and slipped the revolver back into the holster.

  The worry in Danny’s eyes faded. He nodded as if he understood, or at least accepted the explanation, perhaps because it came from a man who spoke from experience and with authority. Regardless, the answer couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Tears of gratitude welled in Susannah’s eyes. When she tried to despise Ross for being arrogant and unfeeling, he turned around and did something nice. The man was a puzzle.

  Ross pulled a folded handkerchief from his coat pocket and held it out to her. She took it because she didn’t have one handy.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He watched her closely as she dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief, and she had the strangest feeling that he could read her mind. “You two should get settled in.”

  She returned his handkerchief. “Yes, and I’m sure you have work to do.”

  “As do you.” Ross stood, tucking the handkerchief inside his coat, and then he picked up the holstered gun, much to her relief. “Tomorrow, we’re going down to the border to check on the status of construction. We’ll return by nightfall.”

  “We?”

  “You’re my assistant; someone needs to take notes and dictation. The board is expecting a report.”

  She hadn’t agreed to travel with him as a personal assistant. On the other hand, if she refused to go, he might decide to hire someone else—and suggest she find another place to stay.

  “Can I come too?” Danny sounded so hopeful.

  She couldn’t imagine focusing on note taking while trying to keep an eye on her overactive son. Her friend Rose had offered to let Danny stay with them, and it would only be for part of a day. That had to be safer than taking him to a railroad construction site. “Why don’t we see if Mr. and Mrs. Valentine will let you come out to their place while I’m gone?

  Her son’s eager expression crumpled. “Aw…I want to ride the train.”

  “How does a trip up to Fort Scott sound?” Ross asked. “I have business there next week. You and your mother might enjoy spending the day looking around.”

  “That’s bully!” Danny’s smile was brighter than she’d seen in weeks.

  “It does sound grand.” Susannah grew wary. Why would Ross go to the trouble of arranging for them to travel with him just so they could look around? He might be trying to gain favor so she would agree to an illicit affair. She’d received other dishonorable offers over the years from men who thought she was desperate. Was that what Ross thought? Or was he simply being generous toward Danny? Oh, how she wished she could read his mind.

  “Don’t forget, you promised to show me the horses,” Danny reminded him, as he opened the door to leave.

  “And I will,” Ross glanced back, making eye contact with her, not her son. “You can trust me.”

  Susannah put her arm around Danny’s shoulders. It seemed that Ross was asking for more than trusting his judgment about her son’s readiness for horses and guns, and she didn’t trust him that far. She’d put her faith in Danny’s father with far more reason to believe in his good motives. Through that experience, she had learned something about trust—she could depend on no one but herself.

  Chapter 4

  Ross winced as the razor’s blade nicked his cheek. He peered into a small mirror mounted on the wall and used a towel to staunch the bleeding. That was the second time he’d cut himself this morning because he couldn’t see what he was doing. There was only one window in the back room behind his office, and it was covered with a layer of grime caused by the smoke that blew over from the depot next door.

  He stretched his arm, sore from sleeping on the hard cot, as he’d left the mattress on the berth for Susannah’s comfort. But he’d slept on the ground and put up with far worse inconvenience for less reason; and she might think a little more kindly of him when she woke this morning after a good night’s sleep.

  Yesterday, he’d advanced by offering her the rail car, then lost ground when showing his gun
to Danny. He couldn’t have known how her husband died, and he felt lower than a snake’s belly when he’d inadvertently pulled the confession out of her. He understood why she would keep a thing like that from Danny; a boy needed to be proud of his pa.

  After doing his best to smooth things over, it appeared she’d forgiven him. In fact, things were progressing well, considering where they’d been just yesterday morning when she still despised him—or pretended to despise him. He’d brushed her arm on the way into the rail car, and her reaction was telling. She fought this attraction between them, and it was clear she would continue to fight it. Today, on their trip south, he would break through her resistance with the only weapon at his disposal…seduction.

  The idea for taking her along had come to him on the spur of the moment, yet it was a sound strategy. After all, she was a widow and not subject to the same constraints as a virginal young woman, so the trip wouldn’t be a blot on her reputation; and if things went as well as he hoped, they would return engaged to be wed.

  Before leaving, he hung a Closed sign on the door, glad to have a day away from the office. He fetched Soldier from the livery and rode to the Lagonda House to relay Captain Goldman’s request to the two women who remained unwed. The prospect of laundering clothes for a hundred men might prompt them to accept a proposal.

  He met with Misses Waverly and Bodean on the front porch of the hotel and explained the captain’s offer. “The army pays laundresses a good salary, unlike what you’re getting here.” He felt obliged to give them the facts. “But you would be living in a tent.”

  Miss Waverly tugged at a stray black curl dangling next to her face. Looking uncertain, she turned to consult the other woman, who had hair just as black, but straight, and her skin was more the color of fresh milk than coffee with cream. “What do you think, Delilah?”

  “Couldn’t be worse than what we do here, and at least we’d get paid.”

  Both women had a soft drawl peculiar to the region where he’d lived as a boy. Neither woman had listed Georgia as their home, and both of them had boarded the Bride Train in Chicago. He hadn’t quizzed any of the women sent as brides about their past because it wasn’t his business, and the railroad had already screened the candidates. His only concern was getting them married off, posthaste.