five

Sam had a fraction of a second to shoot an arrow of prayer for patience heavenward before braving the fray.

Phin launched himself over the back of the seat and pinned the boy. Tick followed suit, shouting, “Stop your laughing, you skunk. I’ll beat you to a powder.”

Even as Sam hauled both boys off the offender, he marveled at their swift change from foes to allies. Evidently they could beat on each other all they wanted, but nobody from outside was allowed to without consequences.

“Ha, now you’ve got a split lip, dog face!” Tick took one last weak swing, his face pasty white and his little ribcage working like a bellows. A bluish tinge colored his lips.

The conductor’s genial expression fused into a hard mask. “Miss, we cannot allow this kind of behavior on the train. You’ll have to control the boys, or they will have to be put off at the next stop.” He darted a glance at the little girl who had tugged her scarf over her face once more and whose eyes now brimmed with tears.

Eldora put her arm around the child and drew her into her side. “Sir, please, I am sorry. I’ll make them behave. Don’t put us off, please. We’ll try not to trouble you or anyone else.”

It bothered Sam that she should be apologizing for the boys when they should be apologizing for themselves, and that the conductor had nothing to say about the poor manners of the people who gawked and jeered at a little girl with a deformed face. Before he could speak, one of those ill-mannered passengers voiced her opinion.

“Those little hoodlums should be in jail, and that girl should be in an asylum. What’s she doing out among decent people with a face like that?” A woman’s high-pitched inquiry shot through the car. She hoisted her ample self up and leaned over the seat to glare at the little girl as if everything was somehow the child’s fault. “I’ve never seen anything so awful in all my life. What is the railroad thinking putting brawling children and deformed freaks in with the regular passengers?”

Phin stiffened and then bolted out of his seat. “You fat old sow! Your sour face is worse than a harelip. Celeste can’t help her twisted mouth, but you sneer on purpose. Your nasty mug would curdle fresh milk.”

“Phin!” Eldora’s chin dropped, and she stood.

Sam—though he wanted to cheer and second the boy’s opinion—clapped his hand over Phin’s mouth and dragged him backward before he could launch himself at the woman. How had a simple errand for his aunt turned into this debacle? They hadn’t been on the train ten minutes yet, and already the entire complement of passengers wanted them off. “Enough, Phin.” He spun the boy toward the door they’d entered by and gave him a push. “March.”

The boy scowled over his shoulder and barely caught the valise Sam tossed at him. Sam sent Tick after Phin, scooped the tearful Celeste onto his arm, and grabbed Eldora by the elbow.

The conductor barred their way. “Sir, where are you going? The next car is full. This is the only passenger car with any room left. I don’t have anywhere else for them to go.”

“Fortunately, I do.” Sam guided Eldora to the door and then turned to face the length of the car. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves, driving these orphaned kids away. I apologize for the fracas, but in one thing Phin was right.” He leveled a stare at the woman who had been so rude. “These kids are what they are through no choice of their own. But you all here had a choice as to how you would accept them, and you chose badly.” His little group clustered near the door, and he took Eldora’s elbow again.

“Where are you taking us?” She sounded like she was being strangled. “You heard the conductor. There’s no room for us in the next car.”

“Just keep walking.” He hitched Celeste higher on his arm and opened the door to the platform. Cold air rushed at him, and the noise of wheels on rails deafened speech. Keeping a good hold on each of them, he transferred them one at a time to the next platform and through the crowded car.

The little boy held his chest, wheezing. Without being asked, Phin handed the valise to Eldora and lifted Tick up.

“I’m not a baby,” Tick protested weakly.

“Hush up. You’re about done in. Fighting takes it out of a man.” Phin shoved the boy’s head down on his shoulder and looked to Sam for what to do next.

“Please, Mr. Mackenzie, where are you taking us?” Eldora stopped at the end of the car and faced Sam like a prisoner before a firing squad.

“My private car at the end of the train. There’s plenty of room and no one to complain about the children.” He opened the door and moved them across to the railed platform at the end of the Mackenzie car. Using his key, he unlocked the door and stepped aside for them all to enter.

Warmth surrounded them, and when he closed the door behind him, the noise lowered. He eased Celeste down onto the closest chair, and Phin did the same for Tick.

Eldora stood in the middle of the salon, clutching the threadbare valise and staring at the rich pecan woodwork, etched mirrors, and gilded metalwork. Her pink lips parted. “Oh my.”

Phin let out a low whistle. “Pretty swank. You must be loaded. Who’d you rob to get this palace on wheels?” He ran his hand along the carved back of the chair Tick sagged on.

Sam sighed. “I didn’t rob anyone. My family and I own some silver mines in Colorado.”

Eldora dropped the valise and half-turned to stare at him. “You’re a miner? A mine owner?”

“Yes, Mackenzie Mining Company.” He frowned when she shot him an accusatory glare. “Is there something wrong with that?”

❧

Eldora had a moment to imagine her knight in shining armor toppling off his white charger into a clanking pile in the dust. A miner. Not just a miner, but a mine owner. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Except that even a poor orphan like her had heard of the Mackenzie Mining Company. He was one of those Mackenzies. So far above and beyond anything Eldora could aspire to, it made her cringe. Here they’d been wallowing and brawling in front of him, and now they’d imposed themselves on him like beggars.

A cold wind blew through her, though she stood beside a coal stove, cherry-red with warmth. “Tick, are you all right?” She knelt beside him and touched his cheek.

He opened his eyes and nodded. “Peachy. Just need to catch my breath.” He put his hand against his chest and his ribs pumped.

“Lie still for a while.” She shrugged out of her shawl and tucked it around him. He looked as if a puff of air would blow him away. Her stomach tightened. The only instructions she’d been given regarding Tick were about keeping him calm and warm. So far she was zero for two.

“Is his name really Tick?” Mr. Mackenzie raised the glass on one of the wall sconces and lit the lamp, bringing more light into the elegant salon.

Eldora smoothed the boy’s light-as-air white hair onto his forehead. “No, his name is Michael. But he sticks so close to Phin, the kids started calling him Tick. Now that’s all he’ll answer to. Isn’t that right, Tick?”

“Me ’n Phin stick together.” He puffed up a little and threw a smug look Phin’s way.

Phin jerked his chin in agreement.

“Tick arrived on the orphanage doorstep about the same time as Phin. They’ve been fast friends ever since, though as you saw in the other car they tend to squabble quite a bit.”

Mr. Mackenzie nodded and squatted beside her. “Like brothers. My older brother and I have been known to mix it up from time to time.” He scrutinized Tick, his brows drawn together.

Eldora glanced at Celeste. Her scarf once again covered the lower half of her face, and she sat perfectly still, feet primly together, hands in her lap, staring at the floor. Everything about her posture begged no one to notice her, and all trace of tears had subsided. She looked controlled and composed. That bothered Eldora. Celeste was too controlled. She should be crying right now, angry and hurt. Instead, because she was accustomed to the cruelty of others, she withdrew even deeper into herself.

“This is Celeste. She’s ten.” Eldora rose and put her hand on Celeste’s shoulder.

The little girl tilted her head and flicked her lashes upward for a quick peek at Eldora’s face, then returned to staring at the floor.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Celeste.” Still squatting, he patted Celeste’s knee and then pushed himself upright. Eldora liked the way his voice softened when he spoke to the little girl. “And you’re Phin.”

“Phineas Bartholomew, at your service.” Phin removed his flat cloth cap and bowed low. When he straightened, he swept aside his black forelock and grinned. The smile was not returned.

“Let me have your bag. Leave the children here, and I’ll show you where everything is.” He turned to Phin. “Keep your hands in your pockets, and stay in this room. Got it?”

“Who died and made you emperor? I won’t nick anything while you’re gone.” Phin made a show of jamming his hands into his pockets.

Why did he always have to choose the hard way to do everything? Couldn’t he see how much they were already beholden to Mr. Mackenzie? Eldora sent him a half-imploring, half-exasperated look and followed their host.

He stopped at the first door in the narrow passageway. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with the little girl.” A match scritched and flared as he lit a kerosene lamp beside the door. “When we travel, this is my parents’ room.” A double bed with an indigo satin spread took up most of the space. “The water closet is next door.” He indicated a narrow door into a well-appointed washroom.

A porcelain sink stood in one corner, and a zinc-lined tub peeped from behind a curtain. A whole washroom all to themselves. The image of the ranks of sinks and commodes in the orphanage community washroom came to her mind. “We won’t mind sharing. We’re used to it.” Eldora hadn’t had a room of her own since she first came to the orphanage. To share a room with only one other girl would be a luxury.

In the next compartment, two chairs sat facing one another. He lit another lamp. “The boys can stay in here. The chairs fold out into a bed, and another bunk lowers from up there, Pullman-style.” He pointed to a brass handle set into the sloping wall above her head.

The paneling gleamed, and everything screamed money and privilege. Even more than the upscale houses where she had been a domestic, this railcar bespoke the wealth and power behind the man so casually showing her about.

He sauntered toward the rear of the car, past a narrow galley, cold and dark, and another bedroom—his own?—and on to another salon, this one doubling as a dining room with a table and chairs in one corner and sofas lining the other walls. Olive-green velvet drapes with gold fringe trim hung from every window, and stained glass transoms defined the overhead space.

“What kind of mining does your company do?”

He shrugged. “Silver mostly. And lead.”

She pressed her hand to her middle. At least it wasn’t coal. But did that change anything? No. He still sent men down into the bowels of the earth to bring him treasure. And sometimes those men didn’t return. Men like her father.

“The kitchen isn’t in use on this trip. I had figured to eat in the dining car with the other passengers, but I can see that won’t be possible now. I’ll talk to the conductor in the morning about having trays sent in. Let’s get back to the children.”

He waited for her to precede him up the passageway, something men in her experience rarely did for girls like her. Kindness and consideration marked everything he did. Did those practices extend to his mine workers? And why did she care so much?

Phin stood exactly where they had left him, hands still in his pockets. When she entered the room, he withdrew his hands and flopped onto the settee. “Didn’t steal a thing—this time.”

“Phin, that’s enough.” Eldora rounded on him. “We’re beholden to Mr. Mackenzie for too many things for you to be so churlish.” She wanted to press her fists to her temples and give in to the overwhelming sense of drowning in the responsibilities heaped on her.

“Call me Sam. You’re not beholden to me. I’m doing this as a favor to my aunt. She asked me to look after you.”

The little knife that had been thrust into her heart when she learned he was a mine owner twisted a half-turn. All his kindness was merely a favor for his aunt. Eldora sagged onto the sofa and chided her reflection in the dark window across the car. She’d been silly to spin daydreams. Her would-be hero had feet of clay.