Eugenia stared at the man she loved, the man who’d fought to save her. His clothing was filthy; his knuckles were raw; the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and the bruises on his cheek served as further proof that he’d battled Chauncey. He looked like exactly what he was—a wounded warrior—but to Eugenia he was the most handsome, most wonderful man on Earth. Though she was bruised from the ride, thanks to Mason, she was safe.
She moved her feet, trying to remain upright as the blood returned to them, but the smile she lavished on Mason gave no hint of her discomfort. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, her voice fervent with love and gratitude. “I prayed and prayed, and God sent you.”
Mason shook his head slightly. As if he sensed how unsteady she was, he reached out and clasped her hands between his. “There’s no need to thank me. Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?”
His face, his poor battered face, shone with something Eugenia hoped was love as he led her out of the barn into sunshine, and she felt her spirits rise. Though Mason had never said he loved her, surely what he’d done today proved that he cared for her. And maybe, just maybe, he felt more than simple caring. Maybe he loved her, at least a little.
“This isn’t the way I planned it,” Mason said with a rueful look at their surroundings. Though the prairie was beautiful, the dilapidated barn was not. “I wanted to talk to your father first, but I can’t wait.” His eyes darkening, Mason tightened his grip on her hands. “I love you, Eugenia. I know I don’t have much in the way of material things to offer you, but I love you with all my heart. What happened today only served to reinforce those feelings. When I realized you were gone, my future seemed bleak. I didn’t want to think about life without you.”
He loved her! He loved her! He’d said it twice. Though she wanted to cry out with happiness, Eugenia’s heart was so full she could not speak. The man she loved loved her. Was there anything more wonderful? She nodded, encouraging him to continue.
Mason tipped his head to one side in the gesture she’d always found so endearing. “I’m a man who makes his living with words, but I don’t feel very eloquent right now. What I’m trying to say is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you love me even a little, I hope you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man in the world.”
He loved her and he wanted to marry her. The happiness that bubbled through her reminded Eugenia of the night they’d danced in the kitchen, the night they’d shared thatunforgettable kiss. And with that memory, the bubble burst. What if today ended like that night? What if Mason raised her hopes only to dash them?
Eugenia pulled her hands from his and took a step backward, needing distance for what she was going to say. “I love you,” she said slowly, “but…”
His face fell. “But what?”
“I don’t understand why you changed after the night we…” She hesitated, unwilling to pronounce the word.
As if he understood, Mason nodded. “The night we kissed.”
“Yes. I thought it was the most wonderful moment of my life, but the next morning you were gone.” And so were her dreams of happily ever after. “Ever since, you’ve treated me like a casual acquaintance.” And that had hurt, oh how it had hurt.
Mason’s lips turned down. “I’m sorry I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention. I found that kiss just as wonderful as you did. I couldn’t forget it—I didn’t want to forget it—but I knew you were practically engaged to Chauncey. I also knew your father would never agree to let me court you. So, no matter how wonderful it was, the kiss was wrong. I knew it couldn’t be repeated, but if I stayed in the same house with you, I couldn’t be certain I would be strong enough to resist.”
His words rang true, reassuring Eugenia. Everything he said proved what an honorable man he was. Now it was her turn to reassure him. “I never loved Chauncey. A few weeks ago I told him I wouldn’t marry him. I didn’t want to add to my father’s worries, so I agreed not to say anything to Papa until after the cornerstone was laid.”
Mason nodded. “Which is why he had to abduct you today.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but it makes sense.” She had sensed desperation in Chauncey’s words. “No matter what he did, I wouldn’t have married him. How could I when I loved you?”
The smile that teased the corner of Mason’s lips turned into a full-fledged one. “If you love me, will you marry me?”
Her eyes shining with happiness, Eugenia nodded. “Yes, Mason. A thousand times yes.”
“Then let’s see what your father says.”
It was two hours later when Papa stormed into the library. As soon as they’d returned to Cheyenne, Eugenia had cleaned Mason’s wounds then retired upstairs to change clothes while he did the same at his boardinghouse. Only when they were both ready had they sent a message to her father and a second one to the sheriff, telling him where he could find Chauncey.
“Where were you?” Papa demanded, focusing his anger on Mason. “You’d better have a good reason for missing the ceremony.”
Somehow he hadn’t noticed the bruising on Mason’s face or the plasters Eugenia had stuck to his knuckles.
“He does,” she assured her father. As she explained what had happened, the blood drained from Papa’s face. He clenched his fists, and Eugenia guessed he was imagining the punishment he would like to mete out to Chauncey.
“It seems I owe you an apology, Mason,” Papa said when he’d gotten his temper under control. “I was too hasty in my judgment. How can I ever thank you for whatyou’ve done? You saved my daughter from an unspeakable fate. Name your price. I’ll give you anything.”
“Anything?” Eugenia asked the question she knew Mason would not.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
His face solemn, Mason faced her father. “There is something I want, but it’s beyond price.”
For the first time since he’d entered the room, Papa seemed confused. “What is it?”
“I would like your daughter’s hand in marriage. I love Eugenia.”
“And I love Mason.” Eugenia turned toward her father, hoping he’d understand just how important this was to her. “There’s nothing I want more than to be Mason’s bride.”
Papa’s gaze moved from her to Mason and then back again. Taking her hand in his, he extended it to Mason. “You shall be his bride,” he said slowly, “but I have one stipulation.”
Eugenia turned toward Mason, shaking her head ever so slightly at his unspoken question. She had no idea what her father had in mind.
As if he recognized their confusion, Papa smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s not difficult. Since it was the depot that brought you together, I want you to include your wedding portrait in the book. After all, Eugenia, you’re not just my daughter; you’re also the depot bride.”
“Indeed she is.” The look Mason gave Eugenia was so filled with love that it took her breath away. And then there was no need for words as he drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.
Dear Reader,
Do you ever wonder what inspires an author to write a specific story? In my case, the answer is that I was intrigued by Cheyenne’s train depot on my first visit to what is now my adopted hometown. At the time, the depot hadn’t been restored and reopened, but there was no hiding the building’s beauty. While others might argue that the Wyoming State Capitol is the city’s most beautiful building, for me the depot’s rounded arches, its clock tower, and the combination of two different colors of sandstone make it my favorite landmark. Now that it’s been reopened as a major tourism site, I’ve attended lectures and parties there, I’ve eaten in the restaurant, and I’ve spent hours at the museum devoted to—what else?—train travel. Can you tell that I enjoy the depot?
After hearing all that, you won’t be surprised to know that when Kim Vogel Sawyer suggested a novella collection with a railroad theme, it took me less than a second to decide that my story would revolve around the depot. What better part of its history to celebrate than the early stages of construction? And so The Depot Bride was born.
I’ve tried to make my story as accurate as possible by including historical details, such as the initial workers’ strike and the anointing of the cornerstone. One thing is pure fiction, though, and that’s the commemorative book. If there was one, I have found no record of it. Still, the fictional book provided the perfect way for Eugenia and Mason to meet and spend time together.
I hope you enjoyed their story. And, if you’re intrigued by the hints I dropped about Esther and Jeremy’s romance, their story is available as an e-book short, The Christmas Star Bride. Or, if you prefer a print copy, it’s included in The 12 Brides of Christmas Collection.
I love hearing from readers, so don’t be shy. Let me know what you think of The Depot Bride. My web page includes my e-mail address and social media contacts. I look forward to hearing from you.
Blessings,
Amanda