Darkness fell. Wyatt didn’t reappear all afternoon, even though Miss Periwinkle told him he didn’t have to hunt. The minutes continued to drag by as Miss Periwinkle chattered about all she intended to do once she reached Pueblo.
“The house Uncle purchased has thirteen bedrooms. Can you imagine, Miss Owen?”
Mary shook her head and hoped Miss Periwinkle didn’t realize she’d been about to drift off. “That is quite a lot of rooms. What are you going to do with all of them?”
“Uncle hasn’t said. He doesn’t have any children.”
Mary’s stomach twisted. Something wasn’t quite right. “Miss Periwinkle, why are you with your uncle instead of your parents?”
“They died. Uncle came to the door the day our house was being sold. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and he was leaving the city. When he suggested I accompany him to Colorado, I was sure God sent him to rescue me. At least going with him would give me a chance to find someone else to marry.” Miss Periwinkle balled her hands in her lap.
A liar. She’d told them earlier she’d been in Europe and her father let her play cards.
“You didn’t know him, and you came on this trip?” Aunt Cora perked up. “I’m not sure that was wise, my dear.”
“Maybe not, but I didn’t have a choice. It was go with him or to the poorhouse.” She sat back in the seat, and tears bubbled. “I thought my life would be different. The man I was to marry left as soon as he found out my parents died and left me without an inheritance.”
“How awful, Miss Periwinkle.” Mary’s heart flipped from disgust to hurt. What would it be like to lose both your parents and your home?
Father wished her married, but was it really the worst thing in the world? What if she had to follow a man she didn’t know to Colorado? It would be an adventure, but not one with happy excitement. Just horrible dread.
Miss Periwinkle sniffed. “Please, call me Winnie. I will be fine. I do miss my parents. Maybe when this train takes off and I get to Pueblo and see the house, I’ll feel better.”
Mary pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Winnie. “What does your uncle expect you to do? Are you to be a guest? A companion? Or—”
Two men loud with laughter tumbled through the doorway; one of them landed in the lap of a woman. She shrieked.
The still-upright man dragged the other to his feet and saluted the outraged woman with a brown bottle before bringing it to his mouth and tossing back a long swig. “’Scuse me, lady. Didn’t mean to land on you. Old Griff here is a bit wobbly on his feet.”
Griff punched him in the arm. “You’re not so stable yourself.” He walked backwardand stopped next to Mary. “What do we have here? A whole seat full of pretty women?” He reached over and grabbed Mary by the arm. “I believe red-haired beauties to be my favorite.” He yanked her out of the seat.
“Stop it! Unhand me.” Mary tried to peel his grip from her arm.
Miss Periwinkle screamed. “Let her go!”
Aunt Cora smacked him with her knitting needle.
Griff laughed. Snot sprayed from his nose. “Can’t stop me. I’m taking her.” He pulled Mary through the car and out the door. “Get the yellow-haired one for yourself. We’ll have us a party, Hank.”
Mary fought Griff. She couldn’t get away. Why weren’t any of the men helping? Where was Wyatt? Please, God, send him to find me and Winnie!
Evening crept up fast on the prairie. The clear sky sparkled with stars, and the moon lit the way as Wyatt and the other men traipsed through the snow back to the train.
“Excellent idea you had, Johnson.” When Johnathan suggested they explore the Kansas landscape, Wyatt agreed. The open air, though chilly, was much sweeter to him than being trapped on the train. His feet were soaked through. He didn’t mind, knowing he’d soon be sitting across from Mary and warming his feet by the heat of the stove. He hoped Winnie Periwinkle had returned to her seat.
“Sorry we kept you away from your admirer. Perhaps by now she’s found someone else.” Johnson smacked Wyatt on the back. “Don’t cry when she informs you there is another.”
“She’s waiting for you, Johnson. You can find a preacher in Pueblo. Maybe acquire a positon at another paper as well.”
“And let you have the run at the best stories in Topeka without competition? No. I don’t think so. Looks like the other train made it.”
Wyatt nodded. “That should ease the tension around here. Might be some good interviews on that train, too, with all those legislators.”
“I hope there is more than one. Too many reporters on board.” Johnathan paused in his tracks. “Let’s head over there together. I like you, Wyatt. Hate to fight you for a story.”
“Excellent idea. I want to check on Miss Owen and her aunt first.”
“Don’t take long.”
“Why don’t you come with me? Give you a chance to meet Miss Periwinkle.” Wyatt couldn’t help the cat’s-got-you grin he knew crept across his face, though his chapped lips didn’t care for the too-tight stretch. He brushed his gloved finger across them, hoping they hadn’t split.
“Might as well, but I imagine she’s already found a man or two to talk to on the other train.”
“Then you’ll not be in any danger of being married by morning.” Wyatt turned back to look at another group of men following them who’d stopped at the stationmaster’s home to return the borrowed guns. “If we hurry, we can beat the rest of them.”
Mary continued to fight Griff. The man had skin of leather. Her nails did no more than leave a red mark. Winnie had been right about there being a place to sleep on a differentcar. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know why, sweetheart. No need to pretend to be the innocent here.” He pushed her into a sleeping berth. She fell backwards. “Paid good money for you. Could have had the other one for free, but I like that red hair. I like fighting women.” He reached for her hat.
She kicked him in the chest.
He rubbed the spot where her foot landed and then laughed. “Yes, I do. And I’ve got me one.”
He grabbed the hem of her skirt. “Let’s see what color your pretty petticoat is. I bet it’s red to match your shiny hair.”
Mary screamed and yanked her skirt from his hand. The fabric ripped at the seam.
“Making it easier for me, aren’t you, wench?” Griff licked his lips.
Mary sickened. If she’d eaten more, she would throw up on him. Instead, bile stung her throat. “Get away from me or I’ll shoot.” She went for the gun in her skirt pocket.
Griff pushed her down and landed on top of her, pinning her arm to her side. “Yes, indeed. I do like a woman who fights.”
His wet mouth moved against the side of her neck. His beard rasped against her skin.
Mary gagged. Dear God, please send Wyatt!