Page 4 of Conveniently Wed
He boosted himself up, forcing her to move back or bump into him.
She didn’t go far. Just squatted on her haunches a couple feet away.
Her nearness sent prickles up the back of his neck. His reaction irritated him.
“I won’t be any good to anybody if I don’t rest a moment,” he told her, looking off toward the Laramie Mountains in the distance.
The sun beat down on his shoulders, but at least outside of the enclosed car, the breeze cooled him a bit.
“What about the other men?” the girl insisted.
He looked around, exaggerating the movement. Several men in fancy duds that he’d pulled from the train sat on their cabooses. The conductor was short of stature and wouldn’t be any good at boosting people up. Looked like it was Edgar or nobody.
“Everybody still in that passenger car is shook up,” he explained, trying to hold on to his patience. “And those fellas down there don’t look like they’re gonna be much help.”
“Frances! Miss Morris!” A woman’s shout from below turned the gal’s head briefly, but she waved the older woman off, concentrating only on her mission to rescue her sister. He could relate a little bit. If one of his brothers was in danger, he would’ve physically moved the train to get to them.
“Get down here this instant. I need all the orphans to stay together,” the woman ordered.
Orphan.
The word stilled everything around them, dampened the noise and commotion.
And suddenly he saw the drab gray dress and plain, scuffed boots peeking out from beneath.
He’d thought she was of age—wouldn’t have let himself be attracted to her if she was too young—but apparently he was wrong.
She was an orphan on a westbound train. Just like he had been sixteen years ago.
This time when their eyes met, he didn’t fight the connection, although nothing would ever come of it. It swelled between them into something almost tangible.
“I’m not leaving my sister behind. We have to get her out of there,” she said, voice low and intense.
“I will. I promise.” And he never broke his promises.
“Miss Morris, I insist?—”
“I’m of age!” The young woman called down.
The matron’s outraged gasp told him something was very wrong.
And in a matter of moments, he—and everyone else in the vicinity—knew what it was.
The orphan girl was a liar.
The pretty young woman had pulled the wool over the orphanage chaperone’s eyes and gotten a free ride out west. She was apparently over eighteen, which made him feel a little less like a lecher for his unforeseen attraction to her.
But her age didn’t matter. She wasn’t trustworthy. It figured.
He knew better than anyone that women couldn’t be trusted. His past had taught him that. Save the rare exception, like his adoptive ma Penny, not a one of them was safe.
Knowing didn’t help the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he threw himself back into rearranging luggageand unearthing passengers in the upended train car. He was somehow disappointed in the petite young woman.
“You need a hand in there?”
Relief mixed with frustration as his brother Matty’s head popped in the opening above Edgar.
“I’ve got some men from town down here ready to get the rest of the folks off this train,” his brother reported.
