"Yes, I do. I don't carewhere we go." Her small hand tightened on his arm. "Try me. I promiseyou won't be sorry."
"The devil I won't besorry." His tone was suddenly impatient as he shook off her grasp and roseto his feet. "I won't be saddled with no whore's kid for the rest of mylife. Go back to Frenchie's." He started toward the train again.
The rejection frightened butdidn't surprise her. She had been rejected all her life by everyone but theinhabitants of Frenchie's crib and had learned long ago she wasn't like thechildren of the respectable wives who followed the railroad crews from town totown. They belonged in a world of clean crisp gowns, Saturday night baths, andchurch on Sunday mornings while she...
Jane felt suddenly sick asmemories flooded back to her of the lantern-lit haze of Frenchie's tent, wherethe cots were separated only by dirty blankets hung on sagging ropes, thesweetish smell of the opium her mother smoked from the funny-looking glass bowlby her cot, Frenchie's hard palm striking her cheek when she wasn't quickenough to do his bidding.
Shecouldn'tgo back tothat now that escape was so near.
Her nails dug into her palmsas her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "It will do you no good toleave me. I'll only follow you."
He reached the train andplaced his left foot on the metal step.
"Iwill.Youbelong to me."
"The hell I do."
"I'll follow you to thisSaddlebury and—"
"Salisbury, and you'dhave to swim the goddamn ocean."
"I'll do it. I'll find away. You'll see that I'll find a way to—" Her voice broke and she had tostop.
"Dammit." His headlowered, his gaze fixed on the ridged metal of the step. "Why the hell doyou have to be so damned stubborn?"
"Take me," shewhispered. She did not know what else to say, what to offer him. "Please.If I stay, I'm scared someday I'll be like her. I... don't like it there."
He stood there, his shouldershunched as moment after moment passed. "Oh, what the hell!" Hewhirled, jumped back down on the platform. His big, freckled hands grasped herwaist and he effortlessly picked her up and lifted her onto the train."Jesus, you're tiny. You don't weigh anything at all."
Had he given in? She wasafraid to believe it. "That doesn't matter. I'm small for my age, but I'mvery strong."
"You'd better be. I guessyou can trail along, but it don't mean anything. I'm not your father and you'llcall me Patrick like anybody else."
"Patrick," sherepeated obediently.
"And you'll damn wellearn your keep."
"If you say so." Sheheld tight to the iron guardrail as the relief pouring through her made herdizzy with delight. "You won't be sorry. I'll make it up to you. There'snothing I won't do to make it—"
"Wait here and I'll talkto the conductor about letting you on board." He turned away from her."Christ, he'll probably make me buy a ticket for you. I spend yearsbuilding this damn railroad and now they make me pay hard cash for—"
"Two tickets."
He stopped and slowly turnedback to her. His tone was ominously soft. "Two tickets?"
She braced herself. "LiSung." She lifted her arm and waved it at the small, thin young man whohad been following her and now stood waiting in the shadow of the stationhouse. "He's goin' too." At her signal the Chinese boy limpedforward, carrying a knapsack and a worn, dilapidated carpet bag. "He's myfriend. He won't be any trouble."
"No trouble? He's acripple."
"He can cook," shesaid quickly. "You know he can cook. You had some of his stew once atFrenchie's. And he's smarter than almost anyone I know. He's teaching me toread and cipher and knows all about herbs and—"
"No," Patrick saidflatly. "I ain't draggin' no cripple along. The chink goes back."
"He has to go withus." He was scowling again. What if he changed his mind and sent her awaytoo? Yet she couldn't leave Li Sung. She went on urgently. "You're lettingme go along and Li Sung is seventeen, almost a man. He'll be able to help you morethan—" Patrick's expression wasn't softening. "He won't bother you.I'll take care of him."
Patrick looked at herincredulously.
"I can do it. Just buyhim a ticket." She whispered, "Please."
