Cordelia laid her pen alongside Mary-Margaret’s letter, postmarked Wyoming.
In addition to running her fine eating establishment, Mary-Margaret had her very capable hands full in the raising of her five boys. Born in as many years, like stairsteps. His Irish sons of thunder, John called them. Cordelia smiled. That they were.
She glanced at the watch fob pinned to her shirtwaist. Time to be done with work for the day. Her gaze wandered to the framed sketch pad portrait of herself hanging on the wall. Smiling at the memory, she tucked another letter—from Patrick O’Malley—into its envelope. Her husband would be pleased to hear from his dear friend.
With the completion of the transcontinental, Patrick believed his life and purpose were over. But then he’d met and married a California-bound widow, marooned in her broken-down Conestoga. Happy and prosperous, he was now busy raising cattle and three courting-age stepdaughters on a ranch near Sacramento. Patrick O’Malley had his hands full, too.
As for Billy? Cordelia’s eyes watered. The boy—become man—would always have a special place in her heart. Her husband had worked for half a dozen railroads since leaving Corinne, Utah. And Billy Doolittle followed their family from one end-of-rail town to the next.
But in Santa Fe, he left them to follow his own dream. He hired onto the rancho of a Spanish family who’d bred horses on the land bordering Mexico since before the United States existed. And there Billy struck gold of a different sort. Not only did he gain the respect of the don, but also the hand of the don’s pretty daughter.
“Hide, brother. Quick!”
Seven-year-old Annie shoved her brother behind the railcar drapes.
Cordelia’s five-year-old son glared. “You’re not the boss of me. Stop telling me what to—”
“Hush now, Billy Doolittle MacBride.” Annie laid her finger against her lips. “Do you wish to spoil Da’s surprise?”
Little Billy scowled. “You’re not the boss of me, Annie Margaret MacBride.”
Cordelia shuffled the papers on her desk into a stack. “Not so bossy, Annie. More flies with honey, remember?”
Imperious and bossy Annie placed her hands on her small hips. “And what of the baby?”
While Cordelia worked on her latest dispatch for the New York Tribune, the baby had played on the carpet at her feet. Wherever the rails took them, Cordelia created a home for her precious family. And met her deadlines as she chronicled the ongoing saga of the age of the locomotive for her weekly column.
Omaha, Denver, Topeka. Their current home in Fort Worth, as construction on this particular project neared completion. With every move, her husband rose through the ranks from assistant engineer to superintendent of construction to general agent. There was talk he’d make general manager before long. Cordelia scooped up her baby and set the child upon her lap.
“He’s coming!” Sandy-blond Annie dashed for the sofa. “Hurry! Hide!” She threw herself, petticoats and all, over the settee.
Cordelia cut her eyes to the window. With long strides, he headed for the train car they called home. Even after eight years of marriage, pleasurable swirls fluttered in her chest at the sight of him. The same work Stetson on his head. Broad-shouldered and coatless, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows.
The children giggled as his boots sounded upon the railcar steps. The door creaked as the hinges swung wide. Removing his hat, he ducked his head as he crossed the threshold inside. His gaze lifted.
Catching sight of Cordelia with the baby, his face lit. His hazel eyes warmed. He gave her that crooked half smile, meant only for her.
With a rush of tenderness, she answered him with a smile just for him. And he crossed the distance separating them. This was her favorite time of day. When Neil returned home every night to her and their children.
Annie popped up from behind the sofa. “Surprise, Da!”
Billy flung himself from behind the curtain. “Happy birthday, Da!” The child clasped his arms around Neil’s knees.
Neil winked at Cordelia. “Is it my birthday, you say?”
The Irish in his tongue thickened with her and the children.
Annie launched herself over the sofa and rolled to her feet. “Happy, happy birthday, Da.”
Cordelia sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, Annie? Ladies don’t behave like—”
“Apples never fall far from trees.” Neil caught the girl around the waist. “And American ladies, so I’ve been repeatedly told, can do and be anything they wish to do and be.”
He grinned at Cordelia. “Especially when the lass reminds me so much of someone else I’ve luved ever so long.”
She sniffed, but her mouth curved into a smile. With Katie on her hip, she came around the desk.
Neil kissed the top of the baby’s copper-colored head. “And how’s my wee one this fine evening?”
Squirming, Katie reached for her da. Neil took the baby into his arms, and Katie hugged him close.
He twined a strand of Katie’s hair around his finger. “Such luvly Irish hair, don’t you think, ’Delia?” He quirked an eyebrow.
She wrapped her arms around the baby. “Our Katie is yet another reason why I loveall things Irish.” With the children hanging on to Neil, together they made one big circle of love.
Annie tugged on Neil’s shirt. “There’s presents, Da.”
Billy smacked his lips. “And cake.”
“My, my.” Neil’s eyes gleamed. “Am I not the most fortunate of men?”
Cordelia cupped his cheek in her palm. “Truer words…”
He brushed his lips across her hand. “ ‘Empty and cold is the house without a woman.’ ”
She fingered his collar. “ ‘It is a lonely washing that has no man’s shirt in it.’ ”
His brow furrowed. “My old friend, Dodge, has asked for my help with a new endeavor on which he’s consulting.”
She gave his shoulder a playful pat. “And where would the track be taking us this time, Neil MacBride?”
His eyes crinkled. “Have I told you how I like it when you speak the Irish to me, woman?”
Neil nuzzled her nose with his. “The Russians are trying to build their own transcontinental railroad. Think Siberia would be too cold for an American like you?” His face sobered. “But if you’ve no desire to go, I’ll not accept the offer. What say you? We can always return to Omaha.”
To build a house on the magnificent wooded lot they’d purchased. But she had a feeling—knowing her husband as she did—like her, he’d always want to be in the thick of the fray.
Hands-on with the work to be done. Wherever the work took him. Because she and Neil shared that most American of characteristics, the urge to wander.
“Of course we’ll go. Where’s your spirit of adventure?” She fingered his chin. “It’s about time you took me to Europe.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’ll give me a chance to interview the czar.”
“Heaven help the Russian empire.” Neil set Katie onto the carpet. “Take the baby and bring out the gifts, Annie my luv. After dinner, I’ll tell you how I once rescued the Sioux Nation from certain extinction.”
Cordelia’s lips twitched.
Billy tugged at Neil’s shirttail. “Don’t forget the cake.”
“Cake, too.” Neil wrapped his big, strong arms around Cordelia. “But first, I must kiss my wife.”
Annie took Katie’s hand and with Billy ambled toward another room in the rear of the railway car.
“Kiss ’er, Da,” called Billy, trailing after his big sister.
Katie toddled after her siblings. “Kiss… kiss.”
“It doesn’t matter where we are, Neil.” She tucked her head into the curve of his neck. “Only that we are together. Always.”
His breath brushed across the wispy tendrils of hair framing her face. “Always.”