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"You're doing the right thing, Prudence," Granger said, patting her hand that rested on her lap.
Prudence turned to him. "Why do you say that, Granger?"
"If the man truly loves you, he would have followed you immediately. As soon as I heard about you and Zac, I insisted on joining your father. I wanted to ascertain for myself your reason for marrying Zac and if you wished to remain married to him."
"Then you feel Zac doesn't really care for me?"
"No, no, dear. I'm sure Mr. Stewart cares about you, but I doubt he's capable of proper love."
"Proper love?"
"Yes," —Granger nodded his expression somber— "proper love, love that is given and experienced with respect and concern for a woman's delicate nature."
"Delicate nature?"
Granger cast a hesitant glance about him, and then spoke in a whisper. "Most women object to the marriage bed and must be handled delicately so as not to cause distress."
Prudence lowered her voice to a whisper. "You mean like not upsetting your wife by undressing in front of her and performing conjugal rights with the lights off and by retiring to your own bedroom during your wife's delicate condition."
Granger appeared startled. "Zac treats you so… like a gentleman?"
Prudence wanted to laugh in his face. Zac made love to her like a man in love should, without restraints or doubts. She shook her head sadly, sighing dramatically for effect. "No, he doesn't allow me privacy. I must undress in front of him. And the lights, they're on all the time. And he says that when I carry his child, he will remain in my bed and touch me often."
Granger gasped, bringing his hand to cover his heart in shock. "How awful it must have been for you, my dear."
Prudence raised her hand to cover her mouth and the giggle that threatened to escape. "Yes, awful. Simply awful."
"Do not worry, Prudence. I will be there for you to help you recover from this dreadful ordeal. I will treat you as a lady should be treated, and soon you will forget these horrible memories."
Prudence didn't respond. Her mind was busy sifting through her treasure chest of memories. They would keep her warm in the lonely ensuing years. And she would have no one to blame but herself.
"Don't fret, my dear," Granger comforted, assuming she was upset. "I'll be beside you."
Prudence raised her head at her father's choked cough.
He had overheard their exchange and was voicing his objection most strenuously, since his cough continued and grew louder until it was silenced abruptly. Prudence bit her lip to hide her grin.
The blast of the shrieking train whistle startled everyone. Then the mighty metal vehicle slowed down causing fear and panic to set in.
"Holdup! Holdup!" someone screamed.
Several women began to cry and small children added their fearful wails.
Granger began to sweat, the watery beads popping out along his forehead and running down his face.
Prudence shook her head in disgust and turned her attention out the window. There was no band of outlaws in sight on either side of the train. Yet the train continued to slow down until it finally came to a dead stop.
Passengers began to jump from their seats, some hugging their children to them, others grasping their traveling cases tightly to their chests as though in protection.
Loud squeals and cries of fright from the passengers in the car in front of them caused even more chaos.
"Stay calm and stay put," James called back to Prudence and Granger.
Prudence was proud of the way her father sat steadfast and unnerved in the seat before her. Even if he were fearful, he didn't display the emotion. Granger, on the other hand, trembled uncontrollably, shaking the whole seat and Prudence in the process.
High-pitched screams and the connecting car doors squeaking open caused a rush of nervous tension to run through Prudence. She squared her shoulders and angled her chin defiantly, prepared to meet the unknown foe.
Shock and relief mixed with excitement and anticipation when her eyes met those of her husband. His look was cold and furious. She was in trouble. Definitely in trouble.
"Please, ladies and gentlemen," Zac said calmly, turning on his most disarming smile, "you have nothing to fear. I'm not a train robber. I'm actually here to collect a notorious thief!"
A unified gasp echoed throughout the car.
He began walking slowly toward the back where Prudence sat. His steps were measured, his pace slow and sure. He was obviously attempting to intimidate, and he was doing an excellent job.
He even looked formidable, just like the day he had entered the Devil's Den saloon. He wore black pants with a white shirt opened casually at the neck, improper but suggestively appealing. His dark waistcoat was drawn back behind his six-shooters, which firmly hugged his thick thighs. He was minus his black hat, though Prudence wished he had worn it. His hair was too rumpled, which gave him an even more dangerous air of appeal.
