Page 2 of Conveniently Wed
Fran Morris heard the unasked question from her fifteen-year-old sister Emma. And she didn’t have an answer for any of the three.
Bracing herself against the seat in front of her inside the crowded passenger car, she peered through the window to see only grassy fields. Not a town in sight.
That was the answer to one question.
From the second row at the front—where the group of gray-bedecked orphans were easily seen and ogled by the other passengers—she would be one of the first to know what was going on when the car’s doors opened.
But they weren’t in Bear Creek yet. With only two more towns scheduled for orphan train stops, they were running out of time to find a new home—and to find safety.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Emma,” she murmured to her younger sister as she craned her neck to better see out the black-smudged window.
Not even a barn in sight.
“Just sit tight.” The words had been a mantra of sorts for the two of them since they’d left Memphis three days before. Stay out of sight. Unnoticed. Safe.
Would she ever feel safe again?
In her nineteen years, she’d never imagined leaving Memphis, the city where she’d been born and raised. And now here she was in the plains of Wyoming. Alone, except for her sister to take care of. All because one man had become obsessed with her sister. With no family to protect them, it was up to Fran to keep Emma out of Underhill’s reach.
The train’s momentum changed, throwing her forward in the seat. The squeal of brakes became a shriek. Voices cried out from all around.
Emma fell off the seat into the aisle.
“Emma!”
But Fran couldn’t catch her balance either. She was knocked back against the seat, shoulder banging against the window, sending pain radiating up her arm. She cried out.
“Fran!”
Emma’s voice was lost in the shouts and cacophony as the train seemed to lift beneath them, then listed to one side.
Screams ripped through the compartment.
Fran reached for anything she could use to steady herself. There was nothing. “Emma!”
Passengers screamed. Metal groaned. The car leaned, everything seemed to pause momentarily, and then the train crashed onto its side.
Fran was slammed bodily into the window, then the seat in front of her, before everything went still. She found herself collapsed in a small ball between the two seats, her backside now on the window.
Her ears rang. Her head hurt. So did her shoulder.
“Emma?” When she could force her voice to work, it emerged in a whisper, and was lost among the cries of those nearby. She reached around, tried to shuffle to the edge of the seat where Emma had been before the wreck had happened. What had caused them to derail?
“Emma? Emma!”
Worry that her sister hadn’t answered had Fran scrambling toward the aisle as best she could in the lopsided car.
Metal screeched and a bright shaft of light hit her face as she crawled into the aisle. The door, now overhead, had opened.
Emma was nowhere in sight.
Luggage was strewn about, blocking her attempt at movement. People all around struggled to right themselves, without much success.
She peered up to see the shadow of a head and shoulders in the doorway above her.
Then a big pair of boots dropped into her line of vision, landing with a reverberating thud.
“You all right, miss?”
