Cassandra Austin (2 page)

“Are you afraid I won’t find enough to keep me busy?”

Emily screwed up her face. “Arlen says I’m supposed to keep you company, but I’m bored often enough myself. I was hoping we could do some things together.”

Lynnette laughed. “You can teach me all your favorite games, and we can take turns reading while the other sews.”

Emily cringed. “Sews? Like embroidery and needlepoint? You
like
that?”

“Only if there’s a good story to listen to.” Lynnette reached across to pat the young girl’s knee. “Don’t worry, Emily. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful summer.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to make it sound so dreary. I always have fun, especially with Christian.”

This was the second time he had been announced as the favorite. Emily didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about her statement. Perhaps this was common among siblings.

Emily blithely removed her hat and placed it on the pile of valises, claiming one of her bags to serve as a pillow, and curled up to sleep.

Lynnette closed her eyes and tried to follow Emily’s
example, but two young girls across the aisle burst into giggles. Drawn by their merriment, Lynnette turned to watch them. They were about Emily’s age and looked very much alike. One clasped her hand over her mouth to quiet herself while the other craned her neck to look over the back of her seat. Their parents, Lynnette guessed, sat behind them with two younger children. The adults gave the girl reproving frowns.

Lynnette smiled to herself. How early the spontaneous pleasures of youth were stifled by. convention. She had very few memories of that kind of gaiety from her own youth. She felt a vague sense of loss but dismissed it as grief over her father’s death.

The girl who had turned to gauge their parents’ reactions settled back into her seat. Her sister leaned toward her and drew a small book from beneath her skirts. They put their heads together and returned to their reading, but not before Lynnette got a glimpse of the cover.

Lynnette started in surprise. She glanced toward Emily to see if she had seen it too. The girl slept peacefully and Lynnette sighed in relief, then wanted to laugh at herself. There was nothing on that dark red cover that anyone would connect with her.

She leaned her head against the seat and tried again to rest.
Passion’s Secret
had been so much fun to write and such delicious revenge on an editor who had ignored all her other stories. She wasn’t ashamed of the story; it was just that no one would understand. She wasn’t prepared for the public censure that would result if her authorship of the story became common
knowledge. And so far no one knew, not even Julian Taggart.

Thinking of Julian made her skin crawl. He had seemed nice enough when she first met him. When she had caught him reading through some story notes in her parlor, she had told herself she should be glad he took an interest in her writing, but it bothered her that he hadn’t felt he needed permission. When she decided she no longer wanted to see him, she discovered how possessive he could be. Little things that were hard to describe made her wonder if the man was unstable. She was certainly happy to be away from him.

Lynnette forced herself to relax. She should put Julian out of her mind and rest. She had a long day of travel ahead of her. She closed her eyes, but the train stopped every twenty minutes or so and the conductor’s calls made sleep impossible. After an hour, she found the book she had packed in her valise and lost herself in it.

Emily alternated between sleep and chatter. At noon she found the lunches her housekeeper had packed for them. Lynnette wasn’t particularly hungry, but Emily managed to eat her meal and talk at the same time.

“We’re still a couple of hours from Cottonwood Station,” she told Lynnette as she packed away the remains of her lunch. She settled back for another nap.

Lynnette tried again to rest, but never gave in to more than a light sleep, fearful of missing their stop. She needn’t have worried. Emily roused herself, stretched and began collecting her bags a moment before the conductor called for Cottonwood Station.

“You’re quite an alarm clock,” Lynnette said, gathering her own things.

“I’ve done this so often I think I know every curve in the tracks.”

Lynnette led the way into the aisle with Emily right behind. They were nearly to the end of the car when Emily turned back. “I’m missing my hat!”

“Shall I help you find it?” Lynnette tried to turn too, but a man had entered the aisle behind her and seemed reluctant to let her pass.

“No, I’ll just be a minute,” the girl called.

Lynnette stepped into the sunlight and got her first look at Cottonwood Station. She knew the town of Cottonwood Falls was across the river, but perhaps there would be a chance to explore it later.

The porter gave her only a second to study her surroundings before he reached to help her with her bags, tossing them unceremoniously on the platform below. Lynnette thanked him as he helped her down the narrow steps.

Out of the way of other passengers, Lynnette took a better look around. Surely this was a place full of stories. A couple with three small, quiet children and a pile of luggage waited for their turn to climb aboard. A young woman in provocative finery watched the passengers disembark. Was she waiting for someone in particular or for a potential customer? An elderly man in a top hat leaned on a cane, ignoring a woman’s chatter. His wife?

As Lynnette’s eyes roved the area, they lit on the most interesting person of all. A young man with blond hair to his shoulders lounged against an open
wagon. His long slender legs and hips were encased in dusty denim. His blue shirt was open at the throat, its sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows. He thrust his hands into his pockets, pulling the black suspenders taut. His chest and shoulders looked far more muscular than the men’s she saw in the city. Were theirs simply hidden by their dress jackets?

She felt the curl of excitement in her stomach that meant she smelled a story. My, but he was interesting, she thought, then realized he was watching her just as intently. She turned away, but not before she noticed that his expression was more than slightly unpleasant. She glanced at the train and considered going back after Emily, but realized it had only been a couple of minutes since she had disembarked and there was still a steady stream of travelers exiting the car.

What could she represent that would make the young man scowl at her? Sure, her dress was slightly out of style and well-worn, but it was tasteful and clean, or had been this morning. It must have been her imagination. She looked back at him to see. No, he was scowling. Well, frowning at least. His hat was pulled down too far to see his brows so she couldn’t say be was actually scowling.

But I’m definitely staring.
She turned away but movement brought her eyes back again. He straightened, pulled his hands from his pockets, and broke into a dimpled smile. Lynnette was astounded. It was several seconds before she could turn to see what had caught his attention.

Emily, overloaded with bags, had emerged from the car, her hat held precariously between two fingers.
Lynnette hurried to help the porter lighten her load. Emily suddenly seemed like a vulnerable child. That strange man looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. Lynnette considered asking the porter to stay with them until Arlen arrived.

When Emily jumped to the platform, Lynnette drew her close, keeping herself between Emily and the stranger. “That man,” she started, giving the barest nod in his direction.

Emily leaned around Lynnette, then squealed. “Christian!”

Emily flew across the platform, down the steps and into Christian’s open arms. He lifted her off the ground as if she were a small child and spun her around. The wind finished what the nap had started, and Emily’s hair fell down her back. Christian’s hat hit the ground and for a moment their faces were blurred by straight blond hair and dark brown curls.

Lynnette was too stunned to follow. She stood beside their collection of bags watching the brother and sister. It had never occurred to her that family would actually greet each other this way. She had expected a warm smile, a handshake, perhaps a kiss on the cheek. She was envious.

Christian finally let the girl go, and they walked together toward her. They still had their arms around each other, and Lynnette wondered how his long legs kept from becoming entangled in Emily’s flowing skirts.

“Lynnette,” Emily said when they reached her. “This is my brother, Christian. Christian, meet Miss Lynnette Sterling.”

“Hey! Good job, Muffin,” Christian said, unwrapping his arm from his sister’s shoulder to stretch it out toward Lynnette. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lynnette Sterling.”

Lynnette took the hand, hoping her face no longer registered her surprise. “How do you do,” she murmured. She couldn’t quite forget that this same man had been scowling at her only moments before. Frowning at least. It seemed a little hard to believe now, he was so obviously happy.

She realized they had both looked at each other a little too long, measuring, she decided. She pulled her hand free and reached for one of the bags.

“Mama said to give you an extra hug for her.”

A hesitant quality in the girl’s voice made Lynnette straighten to see his reaction. For a moment he was completely still. She thought she saw pain in his eyes, then it was gone and the dimpled smile was back. “Well, let’s have it,” he said.

Emily giggled and jumped into his arms. He swung her around again. Up close, Lynnette could see how tightly they held each other, how their cheeks pressed together. The envy she had felt before was replaced with a longing not quite so sisterly. She was staring again. Even as she turned to reach for the bags she had a feeling he had noticed her interest.

A moment later, Emily was on her feet and all three were gathering up the bags, with Christian taking the largest share.

“You ladies ever hear of traveling light?” he asked, leading the way to the wagon.

“Not me,” said Emily. “We each have a trunk besides.”

Christian let out an exaggerated groan as he set the bags down beside the wagon and retrieved his hat. “Come show them to me, Em.” He tugged on one of Emily’s curls. As they walked away, Lynnette heard his teasing. “I better braid your hair before we head home. Wouldn’t you like that? Two nice little pigtails like you used to wear?” Emily squealed and tried to pull her hair out of his reach.

Lynnette watched them as they found the trunks in front of the luggage car. She tried to think of a word to describe the way he moved. Lithe, she decided, and wondered if he knew how to dance. When Christian hoisted Emily’s trunk to his shoulder and started across the platform, Lynnette turned away, pretending to study her surroundings. She didn’t want him to look at her and guess she had been imagining herself dancing in his arms.

He dropped the trunk to the wagon bed and pushed it forward, then turned to lean against the wagon while he caught his breath. “Real tight pigtails,” he said to Emily, as if carrying the trunk had only been a momentary interruption in his teasing. “So you always look surprised.” He raised his eyebrows to demonstrate, and Emily hit him in the stomach.

He merely grinned and headed back for Lynnette’s trunk. Lynnette hadn’t been certain what she would need on the ranch and, along with every imaginable type of clothing, she had packed several books and lots of writing supplies. It hadn’t occurred to her until
she watched Christian try to lift the trunk just how big and heavy it was.

He didn’t waste time struggling with it but got the porter to help. When the two men had shoved the trunk into the back of the wagon, Christian gave the man a coin. “Thanks for the help,” he said. “You know how it is. You go away for the summer, you just have to take your favorite anvil.”

Lynnette tried to swallow her embarrassment. She felt a need to apologize, but before she could, Emily applied another blow to Christian’s stomach. “Quit teasing!” The girl walked demurely to the front of the wagon and waited, one hand out limply, for Christian to help her in. Christian tossed Lynnette a persecuted look before following obediently. He reached for the hand as if to assist the girl, but grabbed her waist and lifted her instead. Emily giggled.

He held a hand toward Lynnette, indicating she was \\ next. She was almost afraid to approach him. He grinned a challenge. She stepped forward with no small amount of trepidation, but he merely steadied her as she climbed aboard.

The seat seemed rather narrow, and Lynnette was uncertain how to make room for Christian. The wagon rocked as he sprang into the bed behind them. She retreated to the side, pulling her skirts out of the way, as he climbed over the seat to sit between her and Emily.

Emily seemed less concerned about her skirts. “Why didn’t you bring the buggy?”

“And do what with the trunks?” He reached across Lynnette to untie the reins from the hand brake and
release it. Lynnette tried to shrink out of his way and wasn’t entirely successful. It somehow embarrassed her to be this close to a man she had just met. Doubly so when he seemed capable of ignoring the contact.

“You could have taken our trunks in the wagon, and Arlen could have driven us in the buggy.” Emily emphasized Arlen, making it sound like a preferable arrangement.

“Arlen’s off shaking hands and kissing babies.”

Lynnette felt a twinge of guilt. It hadn’t occurred to her to question why Arlen hadn’t met the train. In fact at that moment she could barely call up an image of Arlen’s face. She wished she could see Emily; she and Arlen looked so much alike. When she tried, she ended up studying Christian’s profile.

He looked nothing like either of them. One sandybrown eyebrow arched above an incredibly blue eye. Well, she knew there was a matched set, but she could only see one. She knew also that the tanned cheek could crease into a charming dimple. His strong, lean jaw contrasted with his full lips. Exactly what color were those lips? Carnation? No, not quite so bright. Rose, then? Perhaps. A pink rose at dusk.

The lips curved up into a grin that revealed white even teeth. Lynnette jumped, her attention quickly shifting to his eyes—both of them. When had he caught her staring? She couldn’t have been more mortified if he had winked. The humor in his eyes made her think he would do it. She pretended to look beyond him toward Emily, but he had to know she couldn’t see her. Emily was talking, she realized, but she
couldn’t concentrate enough to make any intelligent response. After a moment, she turned away.