Chapter 27

The train jolted, and Anna smacked her head against the window for the hundredth time.

Every time she fell asleep she leaned to the side, and when the car hit a rough track the window smacked into the side of her head. She rubbed the sore spot and glanced through the glass. Pitch black.

She crossed her arms and snuggled deeper into the seat.

Across from her, Philip’s chest rose and fell. How long had she watched just to make sure he was breathing?

They’d traveled through Spearfish then directly to Rapid City where they boarded a train. Raven had carried Philip’s sick form as carefully as she could. Anna saw it in the horse’s eyes. The Arabian knew her master was ill. No, not master. Friend.

Anna looked out the window again at her own image.

She’d always hated her wide cheeks. Well, they were sunken now. Her eyes were dark and hollow.

Anna had the whole seat to herself, just like Philip across the way. They stretched his lean body so he could sleep. His long legs hung over the edge and into the aisle. But she couldn’t lie down. Lying meant she wasn’t ready for anything Philip needed. She knew the idea didn’t make sense. But that’s how she felt.

He’d woken several times over the past three days, but he seemed to be reliving his past. His fever broke as they started their train ride and he settled in the seat across from her, and he slept finally, without a dream.

She clutched her hands together as the thought returned. There was a time she had asked him if he really loved her. The question had separated them and caused the entire ordeal with Jacob. No, that wasn’t entirely true, especially with the latest revelations of Mr. Wilkes. Since moving to the Dakota Territory, there had always been enmity created for Jacob and Philip.

All the same, Philip had ridden to save her. Against incredible odds, he’d ridden into hell itself and done the unthinkable. He’d led men into battle and saved her.

She didn’t deserve him.

Now there’s the wrong voice to listen to.

He’d ridden to hell and back. If he wanted her, she was his.

“Hey.”

She looked up at the sound of Philip’s sleepy voice.

He held out a hand. An invitation. Her heart arrived a moment before she did.

She sat, and he laid his head on her lap. Her fingers slid easily through his hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough couple days.”

“But better?”

“Much.”

His hair was just thicker than corn silk. Piercing gray eyes reflected the lamplight from the train’s center aisle. His smile was soft and comforting.

“We made it,” he said. A dark look filled his eyes. “I have to tell you about—”

“Scott told me.” With her other hand she laced her fingers through his. “He told me everything.”

His eyes held the sympathy his lips didn’t offer, as if he couldn’t say the words that might make all her nightmares come back to life.

Philip sighed and seemed to sink into her lap. She wanted to crowd years of life into this one moment, but she knew to let the feeling go. Just enjoy the aura that surrounded him.

“What was in it?” he asked.

“We haven’t opened it.” She couldn’t hold back a laugh, thinking about Ryan’s steadfast devotion to the barrel. “It’s under your seat.”

They were quiet for a while, trying to wrap their minds around all that had happened.

“How’s Scott?”

“He can’t feel his legs. We’re taking him to the doctor in Mitchell as soon as we arrive.”

He closed his eyes, and she felt his anguish. “Anderson’s War,” he muttered.

So much to say. So much to tell him, but no words came. She let him remain quiet, running her fingers along a wrinkle in his forehead. She sighed. “You’re worried.”

His eyes pierced her soul with a fervent gaze. “I’ve . . . I’ve changed, Anna. I’ve killed more men than I can count.”

She bit her tongue. Such a dangerous man she loved. Her belly warmed at the thought. With no small amount of strength, she kept her hands from seriously roughing his hair.

“What I mean is, I’m not the same man you once knew.”

She drew back. “I’m not the same woman. Not mentally anyway.”

He shifted and snatched her hand. “I want you to know my intentions.”

Her mouth went dry, and her heart pounded. He surely heard every beat.

“Love—our love—is worth fighting for. I intend to help you through any problems that Jacob caused. You and I, together.”

Tears slipped over her cheeks and splashed on his face. She drew his head close to her.

In a muffled voice he said, “We’ll make it. I know it.”

Hope. The feeling gave her strength.

She said, “You’ll be there when I face Father?”

“Of course,” he said in a quiet voice, sad but honest. “I hope to be there when you face anything.”

“When you told me of your past, I know how difficult…” She choked. “I know now.” She shuttered, the feeling of terror crawling through her. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I mean when I say I intend to help you.” He sat up, groaning as he slowly swung his body into a sitting position. “The body and the brain need to sort themselves out.”

“My body’s fine,” she said quickly. “Buyers want women unspoiled.”

He ran his fingers through his hair then over his face. He sighed. “Unthinkable. I’ve no regrets about what I did in Mexico. I only wish I had gone faster. One day. One day and we could have saved your mother.”

She felt small as Philip held her and her tears fell, cleansing her soul. He didn’t speak, but he kissed her forehead. After gaining some control she said, “You did all you could. Not your fault.”

“Hard, though.” He looked at her with a soft smile. “You know, I noticed I use blame to cover up how I really feel.”

“Which is?”

“Usually the sadness that comes from losing the one I love.”

She leaned into him. “When did you get to be so smart?”

“You’re the smart one. Hey look, the sun’s rising.”

She glanced out to see the first glow of pink line the horizon. “My mother used to say morning was her favorite. It meant you survived the night, and God had a purpose for you for that day. I suppose now that she’s gone . . .”

“How she lived her life lives on in you and Beth.” He squeezed tighter. “She’s at rest now. I know that’s no help, but it’s true.”

“How do you do it? Living day to day without your parents?”

“One breath at a time. But some days it’s just too much.”

They watched the reds and pinks brighten into orange.

Philip stretched his shoulders, breaking their touch. “I’m feeling better.” He rubbed the back of his head then paused, his hand still on his neck. “I’m finding it impossible to believe we’re still alive.”

The look he gave her made her stop. She bit her bottom lip. “It was close. Philip, what’s in that cask?”

He bent over and slid the barrel from under his seat. The long fingers that wrapped around the side were a pleasure to watch, but the mystery inside took her attention. “Are you going to open it now?”

The sun burst through the window as the train crested a small rise, and Philip shielded his eyes as he looked through the glass. “I want to open this in Mitchell. We’re almost there.”

“Any guesses what’s inside?”

“My father had pulled the necklace from here, I believe.” He ran a finger along a knot in the wood. “So maybe jewels.”

Anna noted the disappointment in his voice. “That’s bad?”

“I’d hoped for clues to my family.” His sigh and the way he pushed the cask aside showed her how much disdain he truly had for its contents. “Imagine the small fabric of memories you clung to aren’t true. All you believed was a lie. I just hoped for more is all.”

“More what? Some redeeming qualities?” she ventured.

He grunted. “Yes, suppose so. You know, I don’t care a whit about my father’s family. But my mother’s . . .” He held his head. “It hurt to hear me talk of her, after losing your mother?”

“It can’t hurt worse,” she said and touched her heart.

His gaze took in the other sleeping forms in the car, every person made up of their party. He turned to her and before he spoke again the train jerked and began to slow. They’d paid the engineer to stop on the outskirts of Mitchell to let them off well before the station. Marshal Hill said they could get the town’s disposition before anyone really knew they were there. She believed he meant something different. If Jacob had a party at the station for them, they could avoid them entirely. She’d heard Roosevelt say he and his men would sweep the town for any sign that anything was wrong. She was glad Roosevelt felt such a vested interest in Philip.

“Well,” Philip said, sitting forward. “We’ll stop at your father’s house and then I’m going to open it at Caroline’s Kitchen.”

“Not without me.”

“Up to you. Beth. Your father—”

“Can wait a few minutes more after I see them. I love him, love you both. But I’m going to stay with you.”

The words, spoken so lightly but so thick with meaning, weren’t lost on him.

He offered a somber grin. “Rachel has a vested interest in this as well. Shall we go to Caroline’s Kitchen and open this and find out why people gave their lives for what’s inside?”