Page 2 of Luna

He gave her a look of perusal, and his smile faded. “I mean no offense, miss, but you’re Italian, aren’t you?”

Luna nodded. “None taken. It is what I am.”

“By chance, are you related to the Campanelli family?” he asked, nearly leaving her speechless that he knew her relatives.

“I am indeed. I’m going to visit my cousins, Tony and Caterina, and their families.”

The man, despite his confident way of carrying himself, couldn’t have been much older than Luna’s twenty years. She wondered if he worked for one of the ranchers in the area. Cousin Caterina, as well as Tony’s wife, Ilsa, had written about their western town. However, after growing up in a large city, Luna wasn’t exactly prepared for the wildness or the vastness of the West.

“You look like Caterina,” the cowboy said, and Luna took that as a great compliment. Her cousin was a rare beauty, even if she had inherited the fiery Campanelli temper.

Luna hated to admit it, but she had also received a generous portion of that temper, although she’d done her best to tame it in recent years.

“Thank you. Cousin Cat is quite beautiful.” Luna might have chanced another glance at the cowboy beside her, who smelled of horses and leather and a musky, masculine scent she found intriguing rather than off-putting, if her stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl.

Mortified by the sound, she felt her cheeks sear with the heat of embarrassment.

The cowboy beside her chuckled. “Sounds like your belly is as vacant as an empty post hole. I’m feeling about the same way since I didn’t have time for lunch.”

“I have a few pastries,” Luna said, reaching into the basket she still held on her lap and retrieving a paper sack. She’d purchased a large cinnamon bun, an apple fritter, and half a dozen assorted cookies. She removed her gloves, tucked them into the basket, and then broke the cinnamon bun in half, giving her seatmate the larger portion.

“I can’t take your food, miss, especially when I don’t even know your name.”

“Miss Campanelli. Luna Campanelli,” she said, still holding the piece of cinnamon bun out to him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Campanelli. I’m Hunter. Your cousin Tony’s wife is an aunt to my boss through marriage.”

“Who is your employer?”

The cowboy glanced at her. “Dally Nash. She’s married to Nik Nash, and Ilsa Campanelli is his aunt.”

“Oh, yes! I heard about the wedding. I know Nik from the years he lived with my aunt and uncle in the apartment above their store.”

Hunter nodded and took the sticky pastry from her. “That’s right, I’d almost forgotten he’d stayed with your family when he was attending medical school. Which of Caterina’s relatives do you belong to?”

“Her brother Brando. He and Natalia have raised me since I was seven. They adopted me after my parents were killed in a flood. My father and Franco Campanelli were brothers. When Uncle Franco and Aunt Angelina heard what happened, they sent for me. I came to America, and Brando and Natalia welcomed me into their home and hearts soon after I arrived. They are my mama and papa now, although it took a while for me to decide I wanted to call them that.”

Hunter gave her a long, studying glance, one that made her want to squirm in her seat as she bit into the delicious cinnamon bun.

“Did someone travel with you to America, or were you completely on your own?”

Luna took a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed at her lips. “Cousin Carlo’s wife is English. Her grandparents had been longing to come to America for a visit, so I traveled with them. It worked out quite well, but it was also terrifying to leave behind the only home I’d known and cross the ocean with people I’d just met serving as my temporary guardians. They were the loveliest couple and so kind, but it’s hard for a child deep in grief to understand or acknowledge those things.”

Gracious! Luna felt like a babbling ninny. How had she transitioned from sharing pastries to such a maudlin topic? She chanced a glance at Hunter. “What about you, Mr. Hunter? If you are working for Dally this summer, does that mean you help her with training horses?”

“It’s just Hunter, no mister, and I am helping her train horses this summer. She’s about as fine a hand with a horse as you’ll ever meet. I was actually in Baker City this morning delivering a horse she trained to one of the ranchers. It took a little longer to reach the ranch than I’d anticipated, which is why I almost missed the train.” He tossed her a rascally smile. “Maybe it was a good thing, since the only seat left was this one next to you and your sweet cinnamon bun.”

Luna offered him a withering glare, uncertain if he was talking about the treat he stuffed in his mouth or something else entirely. Before she could bristle with offense, Hunter pointed out the window at a herd of elk.

Mesmerized by the sight of the animals, Luna forgot about being upset with him and asked a dozen questions about elk and wildlife in the area.

By the time they’d shared the cinnamon bun, apple fritter, and cookies, she’d concluded Hunter was intelligent, witty, and amusing. She hadn’t expected a hired hand who helped train horses to be so well-read or able to speak so intelligently about any number of current events.

When the train stopped in La Grande, Hunter left his hat on the seat beside her. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then rushed off the car and took off at a run.

Wondering why he’d rushed off and where he’d gone as people exited and boarded the passenger cars, Luna kept an anxious watch out the window, hoping he didn’t miss the train.

“All aboard!” The conductor’s call drifted through Luna’s open window. She saw Hunter sprint onto the platform with two glass bottles of dark liquid held in his hands.

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