19

Sam jolted awake when the wheel bounced over a rut. He shook his head to clear it. He hadn’t meant to doze off.

What day is it? He ticked off the journey in his mind. Tuesday. Tomorrow will be Hawkins Station, then home on Thursday.

He looked at the young couple sitting across from him. Sure hope I didn’t snore like a bear. He touched his chin with his hand. Dry. At least he didn’t drool like a doddering old man.

Maria and Jack sat close to each other, holding hands, watching the passing scenery through the dust cloud raised by the stage. Sam studied them through half-closed eyes. They seemed innocent enough—young and in love, not really aware of the world outside the cocoon of their new marriage. But nagging doubts nibbled at the edges of his mind. Ah, you’re getting old, Sam, and those notes are driving you crazy. You’re thinking everyone’s out to get you.

He realized the girl was now focused on him with more than natural curiosity, as if she wanted to see inside his head.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she realized he was awake. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that you seem so sad and lonely. Is everything all right?” Her soft voice sounded smooth and sweet, but her eyes portrayed an emotion he couldn’t name—and it wasn’t pleasant.

“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s been a long trip, and I’m feeling my age.”

“Oh. I asked because you look as if you’ve lost someone very close to you.”

Her husband spoke up in a nasal twang. “Sweetheart, don’t pry.” He looked at Sam. “I apologize, Mr. Carstairs. Maria has a heart as big as all outdoors and doesn’t like to see people unhappy. She can pick up on it real quick just by looking at them. Then she tries to help them as best she can.”

Maria glared at her husband, a split second of annoyance and irritation, so quick Sam questioned if he actually saw it. She turned to Sam. Her eyes held an intensity that belied her calm demeanor . . . and reminded him of something strangely familiar. Have I met this girl before?

“I do apologize, sir. My husband is right. Sometimes I let my heart lead and jump right into people’s business where I don’t belong.”

“No offense taken, ma’am.”

They lapsed into silence. The stage rocked and bounced, and when it hit a rough spot, they swayed from side to side until the coach settled down. Sam folded his arms and let his head droop as if falling asleep again, but he opened his eyes to thin slits and watched his fellow travelers. Why does she keep looking at me like that? And why does it bother me so?

He shifted his weight and leaned against the side of the coach, thinking of the past three weeks. The trip had been successful, beyond his wildest expectations. The railroad president had sat at his mahogany desk in his ornate office with its thick carpet and fancy drapes framing the window overlooking San Francisco Bay. He’d signed the contract with an elaborate flourish, then stood and shaken Sam’s hand.

“Well, Sam, in eighteen months you’ll see that big black engine steaming into Riverbend. I’m looking forward to being on the first trip.”

“Yes, sir. And we’ll be ready for you too. This railroad’s going to make the town grow. Riverbend will be the biggest and best place to live in our part of the state.”

Sam remembered his visions of money pouring in because of the railroad, but he couldn’t resurrect the elation he’d felt in that moment. He couldn’t summon any feeling but that familiar cold dread. John Higgins—or someone like him—was out there somewhere, lying in wait.

Isn’t it enough punishment that Ruth was taken away from me?

His thoughts drifted to Ruth, so dear to him that he’d lied and cheated and even killed to get her—then she was gone too soon. And Ben, who resembled her more than either of his brothers, a burning lance to his heart. Suddenly he found himself wondering how Ben was faring. I drove him away. And Mark’s a lost cause, and who knows what Josh thinks?

He opened his eyes to find the woman across from him still staring. Her steady gaze exposed him, slammed right through him. And in that moment he felt his carefully constructed defenses burn away. In the ashes, he realized his happiness had left when Ruth died. And nothing—not the money, not the power—could fill the void.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He wondered what Maria Alden thought of that.