Page 3 of Married By Midnight
“Oh. Louisa. She’s my wife. She said you were closer to twenty-eight. I said twenty-four. Oh well… it is a wager I’m perfectly happy to pay out.”
“Wager?”
“Why yes,” he chuckled. “We wagered a kiss.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Just a little fun we had when we were matchmakers back in England.”That explained his accent.
“Where is Louisa now?”
“She’s back in Creede. Probably walking in the rain. Terrible storms there. I’m on my way to see her.”
Ian eyed the man. “You don’t appear to be the type that would be rail jumping.”
“Oh, I’m not. I’m here to see you, Ian.”
Ian felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. “How do you know my name?”
“I know quite a bit about you, Ian.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have a common friend.”
“We do?” Why didn’t the man just get to the point?
“Yes. Charlie is in Creede. He is awaiting your arrival.”
“How do you know that? I didn’t tell anyone I was coming.”
“He was expecting you shortly after he arrived. I’m surprised you didn’t come out for his wedding.”
Married. His best friend was married. He was the worst. He recalled getting a telegram from Charlie, but he never read it. And when he went back to find it, it had been thrown in the trash.
“I didn’t know.”
The man snorted. “Well, lad. I think you should stay in Creede. Fresh air. Stunning views. Pretty ladies. Your best friend.” He looked at Ian once more. “It is your time, Ian.”
“Time for what?”
“Why to find love, of course.”
This time Ian snorted. “That ain’t going to happen to me.”
“You’ll have to forget everything you know and be open to the possibilities.”
“Stop your talking, boy. Creede is about 5 minutes out. We are going to need to jump soon.” The man at the door looked at Ian with a sneer.
“I was just talk –” Ian turned, and the hay bale was empty. He looked around the car but didn’t see the elderly man. “Never mind.” Ian rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He slid his arms through the straps of his duffle bag and headed to the open door of the box car.
The rain was coming down in torrents. He watched as the drenched ground passed quickly under the train’s wheels. “It wasn’t this steep in Ohio,” Ian said.
Deek took a cigar out of his pocket and bit off the end. He spat the end out of the box car before putting the cigar in his mouth and chomping on it nervously. “You gotta be careful. One bad roll and it will be your last.”
“You do that every stop,” Ian said, pointing to the cigar in Deek’s mouth. “You never light it, you just chew. What’s that all about?”
“I figure if I’m going to die doing one of the jumps, I at least want to enjoy my last few moments.” The men behind Deek laughed.
