AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Outside, another whistle blew and Sam muffled a growl. Was it possible she hadn’t boarded the train? Perhaps she had spotted him and realizing she had been recognized, ran. Hell, she could have slipped off the train unnoticed for all he knew.
Just then the floor beneath him gave a sudden lurch. Sam looked out the closest window to see the train, in fact, begin to slowly creep away from the station. He swore for the umpteenth time, hovering on the brink of which direction to take.
Then he saw her.
Or rather, that copper-colored hair of hers. It stood out like a lighted match. And was doused just as swiftly when she disappeared through a vestibule door. His glimpse of it was short, but it was enough to have him heading down the car aisles.
He brushed past a few late boarding passengers, shouldering them non-too-politely. Offering a swift apology, he hurried on to the next car, sliding the door behind him as he passed through the vestibule and into the next passenger vehicle. Coming to an abrupt halt, he stood in the narrow corridor and felt a glow of satisfaction. There she was. She slipped modestly and without fanfare into a posh seating compartment.
Glancing outside the large cubicle window closest to him, he watched the landscape rush past in a fury as the train picked up speed. No chance of disembarking now.
Turning his attention back to the woman, he glanced down and noticed her skirts swish gently across the carpeted floor as she stepped into her compartment, and slid the door shut behind her. Without a limp.
A rush of disappointment wiped the grin from Sam’s face. He had been so certain he had gotten his woman. Doubt toyed with his conscience now.
“Do you require assistance finding your seat, sir?”
Sam glanced at the lanky but tall porter who now blocked his view of the copper-haired woman. He didn’t even bother to crane his neck in order to peer past him. She would be out of sight by now.
“I wasn’t able to purchase a ticket.”
The man’s brows rose briefly, but otherwise didn’t look too worried. “I trust you have the means to pay for one now?”
Sam nodded and dug into his coat pocket and handed some folded bills to the porter.
“Very well, sir. Breakfast will be served in one hour in the dining car.”
“And that would be—?”
“The third last car, sir.”
He glanced once more to the compartment where the woman he suspected was Ivy McGregor had disappeared. With a sigh, he turned and followed the porter to his seat several cars back and not nearly as fancy as the one occupied by his murder suspect.
He would have preferred clearing
her identification before boarding, but perhaps this was for the better. The small and limited space on the train gave him the time he needed to make a proper identification without fear of her fleeing. If the woman did turn out to be Ivy McGregor, he would apprehend his prisoner and haul her off at the next stop to collect his just reward.
* * *
“Moira, do close the door and sit down,” Allison Radford shooed her servant away from the door.
“It’s already beginning to feel claustrophobic in here without you blocking out our only source of light,” Harold Radford proclaimed, heedless of the fact a huge glass window on the opposite side spanned the width of their entire compartment.
With one final look to where the stranger she noticed watching her had disappeared, she closed the door the remaining few inches shut. She had noticed him first at the train station. Watching her. His blunt and hard gaze had unsettled her terribly. A set of very disturbing eyes bore into her as if she wore nothing but a thin sheet of parchment. She had hoped he wouldn’t board the train, but to her dismay he had.
She studied him as he left her sleeping car. He was tall, very broad and had a head of sandy colored hair that hung in long shaggy locks beneath his black Stetson. However, it was the holster hanging from his waist, barely noticeable beneath his thigh-length duster, which made him appear threatening. And for some reason she knew she had a reason to be threatened.
“For pity’s sake, Moira, did you not hear me?”
She turned away from the door at last. “Aye.”
Allison Radford released a huge breath as she flapped a fan in front of her face. “The air in here is dreadfully stale. I’m certain I shall get frightfully ill by the end of this trip.”
Her husband, sitting across from her, waved one of his gloves in front of his own face. “The air is appalling. Truly, where is that porter? We must open this window immediately.”
“Moira, see what you can do.” The madam waved her wrist in the younger woman’s direction.
Without hesitation, she did as was bid. The small latch hardly constituted any strength to undo. With a heave she opened the window and allowed air into the compartment. Cold late September air.
