Mary, I had to pay for that picture, and I’m sure it is ruined.” Aunt Cora’s heavy eyebrows almost knotted together as they got into the boarding line. “I would have thought better of you. Running after a basket of food as if you hadn’t just had breakfast.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Cora. I had to save our dinner. You have to have something to eat.” Mary handed her the basket and straightened her suit jacket. “Some of this is a bit mushed with all the jostling.”
“Dear girl, this is an adventure. If it is mush, then that is what you eat. If the child had absconded with it, then that would also be part of the story you get to tell after the trip. Adventure isn’t about the place you end up. It’s the trip you take to get there.” Aunt Cora shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t ready for this.”
“But I am. I was shocked someone would steal our food.” Mary wanted to go back and change her actions toward the boy. She could have given him her entire portion and kept Aunt Cora’s. That skinny youth in ragged clothes and bony hands might not have eaten in days, though it hadn’t slowed him down. Or maybe it was the idea of eating that gave him the burst of energy to run. She did catch him.
She glanced behind her to see if she could spot him. If she remembered his face, when they returned… She stopped when her gaze collided with that odious man who took her umbrella. Was he going to Pueblo, too?
Before she turned away, he winked. Her heart kicked against her chest. Should she mention it to Aunt Cora? Or maybe she’d accept her aunt’s advice and see where this journey took her. After all, he was taking the excursion trip. Perhaps he liked adventure.
She risked another look. The man held a notebook and scribbled. A reporter. Probably the excursion train would be loaded with them. She dismissed entertaining any more thoughts about him. Father would have a fit if she so much as spoke to the man again. He wouldn’t be rich enough to placate her father.
Women of all backgrounds boarded the train in Topeka, Kansas. The first line of an article could be tricky. He’d likely change it after he spoke with some of the women. Wyatt scribbled a few more sentences about leaving the depot and the weather. He glanced up to find the copper-haired beauty who gave food to the boy staring at him. He flashed a wink and a smile. He shouldn’t have, but the temptation to tease her was too great.
He’d have to find her on the train and interview her. Must be a good story there. SOCIALITE ON THE EXCURSION. Possible heading for the article? Plucky woman to chase a child. Most of the women he knew would have screamed and pointed forsomeone else to do the running.
He checked the line behind him. Women were scarce in this monochromatic crowd but easy to pick out with their colorful hats. They traveled in small groups or with a husband. What would it be like to share adventures with a wife? He would concentrate on speaking to the ones without a male companion.
Wyatt closed his notebook and slipped it into his pocket along with the pencil. The line inched forward. Noticing everyone in front of him carried a package or basket onboard, he realized he hadn’t stopped to pick up food for himself. His stomach growled. He woke too late for breakfast and skipped lunch. If he wanted dinner, he needed to act fast.
The line stretched behind him. Would he have enough time to purchase something at the station? He decided to risk it. “Pardon me.” He moved through the murmuring crowd and ran for the depot. There wouldn’t be time for the staff to make a sandwich. If he asked for a hunk of cheese and bread, and the wrapping, he would save time.
Once inside, he rushed to the lunch counter. No one stood behind it. He glanced around for an employee and then saw the sign.
CLOSED.
He forgot it was Sunday.
Mary waited until Aunt Cora’s dress hem dragged the top step of the passenger car before she followed. Her shoe clunked against the steel. This was real. She relaxed as she passed through the vestibule doors.
The porter took their lunch and hand baggage from Aunt Cora and then led them down the wooden aisle. After he stored the items on the rail above the seats, Aunt Cora tipped him. “Thank you, George.”
George nodded and moved a few steps back so they could sit.
“Mary, come by the window so you can see everything.” Aunt Cora stepped aside as Mary slid past.
“Thank you. It will be exciting to see what the Kansas and Colorado scenery is like.” Mary settled into her seat. “How did you know his name is George?”
“I don’t. It’s what is done on trains. Call the porter George and tip him well, and you’ll always have a friend on the train. It’s something I learned from my travels. I believe it has something to do with George Pullman, the owner of the trains.”
“Interesting. I’ll remember that.” Mary peered out the window. The once-overflowing platform emptied as passengers boarded the train. There were a few stragglers. One man came running. She leaned closer to the window. The man who’d taken her umbrella. He should have been onboard by now.
The whistle sounded. Steam released. “All aboard.” The conductor sounded off. “Last call.”
Would he make it? Her heart jumped. It would be awful to miss this train. Especially if he was to be writing about it.
“What are you gawking at?” Aunt Cora leaned over Mary’s shoulder.
Lavender essence, Aunt Cora’s favorite scent, freshened the air, but it didn’t calm Mary’s excitement.
“I’m watching people run to catch the train. Why don’t they arrive on time? Do you suppose they had an emergency? Or maybe forgot something?” Mary pressed her face against the window, trying to spot the man boarding.
She’d lost him. Just as well.
“Possibly both. Some like to test the fortitude of others’ patience.” Aunt Cora settled back into her seat. “I missed a train once in Spain.”
Mary whipped around. Aunt Cora had the best stories. “Why?”
“Someday I’ll tell you the whole tale. It isn’t that exciting. We were at a café, and they had the best paella. We lost the time in laughter.” Aunt Cora sighed.
“We? Who were you with?”
“Another time, dear. Another time.” Aunt Cora wiped a tear from her eye.