Page 69 of Conveniently Wed
And she did.
When he told her left, she went left. The longer the afternoon wore on, the more comfortable she got in the saddle. It helped that the pony was experienced and not green-broke. By the time they’d driven the last few head into the pens, she was reading his cues without him having to instruct her. And her beaming smile buoyed him into almost forgetting about their trouble.
Until he got to see the ticket agent.
He’d sent Fran to the wagon with the cowboys, after sending his brothers a hard look that said they’d better look after the girls.
And now in front of the ticket agent, he got an answer he did not want to hear.
“What do you mean, the train’s not running today?”
The man reminded Edgar so much of the agent back in Bear Creek with his mannerisms and thinly veiled disdain that Edgar had to wonder if they were long-lost cousins.
“Trains can’t get through from the east,” the man said, jerking one finger back toward Bear Creek. “On account of the broken tracks.”
That made sense.
“So until the next train comes in from the west” —now he jerked his finger the opposite direction—“there’s no train to take your animals to the next station. Sorry.”
He didn’t sound all that sorry. His words sounded rote, like he’d said them several hundred times in the past few days.
This wasn’t good. Edgar had a day and a half left to get the cattle on to Cheyenne, like his pa had promised the buyer. If he had to drive the cattle like they had been doing, it would take all of that time and maybe more. There was no room for error or bad weather.
“When does the next train arrive?” he asked, barely reining in his patience with the man before him.
“Scheduled for tomorrow. That’s if it’s on time, and there may not be room for all your animals.”
“What do you mean?”
“Farmers around here booked their animals on the next stock cars. I don’t know how many cars will be on the train but those who’ve paid first get first right to load their animals.”
Edgar gritted his teeth. “So even if I wait ‘til tomorrow, you can’t guarantee I can ship my cattle on?”
“That’s right.”
Edgar turned away from the ticket window, slapping his Stetson against his thigh.
This was a delay he could ill afford. His pa had given his word about those cattle and left it to Edgar to get the job done. It wasn’t Edgar’s fault that the tracks had broken, and it wasn’t his fault that they’d been delayed by the weather.
But none of that mattered. He’d made a promise to his pa that he would follow through on the deal, so he had to.
He moved off the platform to the boardwalk that lined the town’s one main street. A glance over at the holding pens and a nod from Matty indicated that things were calm there. Could he trust Ricky not to get into trouble?
A glance in the other direction didn’t reveal anything suspicious. Just folks going about their business.
He sighed.
Looked like they were going to be staying the night. He might as well give the town marshal a heads-up about Fran and Emma. If Fran had been telling the truth and the men after them really did have nefarious intentions, they’d stay far away from the law. He could also try wiring his pa’s buyer in case there was a delay with the railroad.
And he remembered the state of the girls’ dresses. He had a little spending money left from the previous summer that he’d tucked into his pocket when he’d left the homestead. Up until now, he’d been thinking the cash would help get the girls settled in Calvin, but now he had another thought.
A sudden hankering to see Fran in a pretty dress.
12
“Are you sure you won’t come down to supper?” Fran asked Emma.
They’d spent the late afternoon sequestered in the hotel room Edgar and his brothers had escorted them to. After a lovely hot bath in which she’d scrubbed away days of trail dust, Fran began to feel human again.
