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She had to get off the train. Breathing was becoming difficult. Almost next to impossible. She paused in the vestibule and flattened herself against the door. Drawing in a ragged breath, she stared out the window. Nothing but trees whizzed by.
Leaning forward, she peered through the glass and down at the earth rushing past. She would surely break a leg if she jumped now. Biting her bottom lip, she glanced back through the vestibule and into the car where she left Sam Michalski. He had settled into a seat and made himself comfortable.
Anger, swift and heated, filled her chest. She knew from the moment she laid eyes on him, he was not to be trusted.
He knew who she was.
She had to stop him. She hadn’t come this far only to have some high-handed cowboy ruin it all. The Radford’s had given her a chance to clean the slate and start over. If they discovered she had deceived them, she would be back where she started. On the run.
Though life with the Radford’s wasn’t grand, at least it resembled an ounce of normalcy. And all Ivy wanted was to get on with her life. Leave the past, and Chicago, behind.
She pressed her back against the steel door and felt the train’s vibrations. It was moving quickly, delivering her to a new destiny, a new life. A new beginning.
Opening her eyes, she stared at the black Stetson tilted low over Sam Michalski’s head. He represented her old life. If she had stayed, they would have surely crushed her. If they caught her, they were certain to kill her.
Determination flooded her veins. Survival instincts kicked in. She would not allow Sam Michalski to cheat her of a future.
A kerosene lamp swung on a hook inside the vestibule. She reached for it, then slid the car door open. The train rattled causing her to lose her balance momentarily. She managed to right herself and pull the heavy door shut behind her. Then very quietly, so as not to disturb him, she approached his slumbering form.
She really hadn’t suspected he was sleeping, but still felt a startled jolt when he said beneath the Stetson, “Wised up and decided to turn yourself in, Ms. McGregor?”
Ivy did not respond. Instead, she began to tremble. Terribly. Which only increased tenfold when he sat up and pushed the rim of his hat away from his face.
“Mighty smart move—“
Before she could allow him to finish the sentence, she swung the lamp with all the force she could muster and made contact with his temple. With a soft thump, he collapsed back against his seat. A tiny trickle of blood oozed out from beneath his hairline. She waited a heart-stopping moment to ensure he was out cold.
Or dead.
Swiftly, before anyone should happen to enter the empty car, she pulled his Stetson down low, concealing the evidence of blood. Then glancing over her shoulder and making certain she had no eyewitnesses, she slipped hurriedly out of the car.
Chapter 3
Sam pried his heavy lids open. Damn, the side of his head throbbed. What the devil happened? Reaching up, he rubbed his temple and glanced about the car. It was still empty. He froze. Recollection came swift.
Ivy McGregor.
He swore and sat bolt upright, but the pain in his head had him grimacing and swaying backward. Sliding his fingers beneath his Stetson, they came back stark red. Blood red.
He cursed savagely and gave the blood a vicious scrub on his denim clad leg before slamming his hat back on his head. On the verge of springing to his feet, the sight outside his window had him stopping cold in his tracks.
The sun no longer sat in the eastern sky shining brightly overhead. It was now making a slow and leisurely descent toward the opposite side of the earth. But more importantly than that, the train was no longer moving.
He leaped to his feet, ignoring the lingering pain in his temple. Where the hell were they? Grabbing his duster, he hurried down the car’s corridor and threw open the vestibule’s sliding door. Inside, a porter was returning a boarding stool from the terminal’s platform.
“Where are we?” he asked, slipping his arms into his coat.
“Sudbury Junction, sir.”
“How long?” He held his breath, waiting for the answer.
“We are just about to leave. Everyone has reboarded.”
“Did a redheaded woman disembark?”
“Not that I noticed.”
Sam spun around and headed straight for the car Ivy McGregor shared with the Radford’s. Half walking, half running, he pushed past passengers not very pleased to make room for him. As he neared their compartment, he saw Mrs. Radford’s outrageous hat first, then her husband sitting across from her.
