Colorado Dawn (33 page)

Sam tugged off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. “He can’t quite bring himself to trust me, can he?”

With her hands folded in her lap, she shrugged. “He doesn’t really trust anyone. You’ll notice he’s not speaking to me. I’m afraid we had some harsh words when he was in jail, words he needed to hear but that I spoke in anger.” Heaviness dragged at her. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Quite a few things, actually. We hardly ever seem to be alone, what with one crisis with the children or another. Now I guess I know how a parent feels.” He chuckled, and a spark of longing flared in Eldora. “I wanted to tell you what the doctor said about Celeste.” He dug in his inner coat pocket and pulled out some folded papers. “He wrote some notes up for you to give to the doctor in Denver, both for her and for Tick.” The pages crackled as he smoothed them out. “He seems to think she’s an excellent candidate for surgery to correct her problem. Said she’d have a small scar where that gaping hole is now, and she’d be able to eat normally, breathe better, talk clearer, and would probably have fewer problems with her ears and with catching colds.”

Hope clashed with reality in her breast. She took the papers, not seeing the words. He just didn’t get it. In his own way, he was in as great a need to hear and resign himself to the truth about these kids’ futures as Phin had been about his uncle. “Sam, you’ve been very good to us, and I thank you for all you’ve done, but you need to understand something. Celeste won’t be getting surgery. Tick most likely won’t have another dose of medicine once the supply the doctor gave us runs out. When we get to Denver, we won’t be going to nice homes. We’ll be going to an orphanage. Probably one that has all it can do just to keep kids fed and clothed. There’s no extra money for medicines and surgeries. Without adoption, their future is hardly secure, and who will adopt any of them?”

She couldn’t sit still any longer. The fears and knowledge she had wrestled with all night spilled out, and she had to move away from him. The train swayed, but she caught the rhythm and paced to its roll. “Who would adopt Celeste, with her face like that and knowing an expensive surgery is needed? If she got adopted, it would most likely be by someone who only wanted to abuse her or work her to death. Once she is too old for the orphanage, she’ll be turned out, and how can she hope to get a decent job? Then there’s Tick. No one will want him, knowing of his heart trouble and that a lifetime of drug expenses lies ahead. If he lives to be an adult—and what are his chances without the medicine—what kind of work can he do? Nothing physical, and his education thus far is pathetic.” She swung her hands, trying to make him see her point. “Not to mention Phin. He’s destined for prison, the way he’s going. Who would adopt him, knowing they’d have to nail down everything in the place to keep him from stealing it? I’m responsible for them, and I can’t do a thing to help them.” Panic welled in her chest and choked off her airway. She tried to close her eyes and ward it off, but that disrupted her balance. Lurching against a table, she pushed aside his steadying hand. “What’s going to happen to them?”

Sam grabbed her arms and tugged her against him. His large hand came up to cup the back of her head, and she realized she was on the verge of sobbing. “Shhh, Ellie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I understand you’re scared, but everything will be all right.”

His kind words coupled with the strong, protective feel of his arms around her broke through the tissue-thin walls she’d tried erecting around her heart. Swaying with the movement of the train, she tilted her head back to look into his eyes, but her gaze got caught on his lips. Finely molded, gently curving…

The instant she knew she wanted him to kiss her, she jolted backward out of his grasp. “What can a rich man like you know of our troubles? You snap your fingers, and whatever you desire comes to pass. Your life is light and freedom. Ours is darkness and no choices.” Words sprang out of her mouth, stupid words hurled at him to try to dodge the guilt and fear stabbing her. “The children adore you, even Phin, though he’s trying hard not to show it, but what happens to them when you leave us—I mean…them? Where will they be then?”

Where will I be when you leave me?
Her insides turned to a quivering mass as the reality of her feelings hit her.

“Ellie, please—”

“Don’t call me Ellie!” Pain cleaved her heart, knowing she had been foolish enough to fall in love with him and knowing there was no hope along that path. To her mortification, the tears slipped over her lashes, and a strangled sob exploded from her throat. She fled into her sleeping compartment, slammed the door, and threw herself across the bed.

Sam’s shoulders slumped, and he sank into a chair, as battered as if he’d fallen down a mineshaft. Here he’d meant only to encourage her with his good news about Celeste, and she’d detonated like a pint of nitro. The memory of her tears lashed him like a whip.

At least they were real tears, real emotion spawned by real problems. Her choking cries, muffled through the wall behind him, made him close his eyes and fist his hands, leaning his head on the paneling.

Yvette had cried prettily, dabbing at her lashes with a lace handkerchief, darting sidelong looks at him to gauge his reaction and coming out of her sorrow the instant she got what she wanted. Manipulative minx, and he, like a first-class chump, had fallen for it for a time. A scowl twisted his mouth. Why was he thinking of Yvette now?

After a few minutes, the crying sounds ceased, or at least grew so faint he couldn’t make them out. He rose and edged down the narrow passageway to listen at her door. Should he tap? Perhaps she was asleep. The shadows under her eyes this morning made him wonder if she’d slept at all last night, and who could blame her? She’d certainly been under a lot of strain, and the glimpse she had given him into the children’s futures would have kept him awake under the circumstances. He decided not to disturb her, knowing he wouldn’t have any idea what to say to her if she answered the door. He’d best check on the kids.

Tick and Celeste sat at the table, Phin leaned against the wall, and none of them were eating the cookies. Phin’s glare could’ve set Sam’s suit on fire.

“What?” Still tender from the scene with Ellie—Eldora—he was in no mood to deal with anything from Phin.

“We heard you. We all came to get you, because Tick didn’t want to start in on the cookies without you and Eldora.”

Tick’s lower lip jutted. “You made her cry.”

Fear that they might’ve heard the discussion of their futures clawed up his chest. “What else did you hear?”

Celeste had tucked her scarf up again and leveled an unnaturally mature stare at him. Phin shoved away from the wall and flung himself into a chair. “Nothing we didn’t already know, and nothing you shouldn’t have figured out. Why do you think we’re on this train? Because nobody will adopt us in the whole city of St. Louis, and Korbin wanted to get rid of us. He’s making us someone else’s problem.”

Their resigned acceptance of their lot in life tore at Sam. His own childhood, so secure in the love and care of his parents, mocked him. Ellie—Eldora—was right. He knew nothing of the suffering they’d endured, the uncertainty, the lack of affection and security. He had thought getting them to Denver would be enough, that he’d leave them at the orphanage, fulfilling his promise to Aunt Tabitha and doing his good deed. But the notion of leaving them there—especially knowing how precarious their futures would be there—didn’t sit right with him. But what could he do?

“Why doesn’t she like to be called Ellie?” The question was out before he realized it.

Phin rolled his eyes. “She told us she used to be Ellie—that’s what her dad called her—but when she came to the orphanage, the matron called her by her full name, Eldora. She says Ellie is for the happier times, when she had a family. Eldora is her orphan name.”

“Like Tick’s mine.” The little boy nodded as if this made complete sense. “I ain’t been called Michael in a long time, but if I was ever gonna get a family someday, I’d let them call me Michael. I don’t guess Eldora will want to be called Ellie until she has a family again.”

“Does everyone have two names?”

Phin shook his head. “Nope, not when they’re foundlings. The women in the orphanage nursery name the kids who show up as babies. She”—he jerked his thumb at Celeste—“got dumped on the orphanage doorstep on a clear night with lots of stars, so they named her Celeste. One of the schoolteachers we had for a while, Mr. Plimpkin, told her it meant ‘from the heavens’ or ‘from the stars’ or something silly like that.”

Sam raised a smile for the little girl. “I don’t think that’s silly at all. It’s a beautiful name, and she wears it well.” He fingered the edge of the tablecloth where it fell against his leg. So, Ellie was for the happy times. He fervently hoped someday she’d get to use the name again. She deserved to be happy.

“I’m going to find the conductor and see about getting some food ordered in for lunch. You kids stay here, and don’t disturb Eldora. She’ll come out when she’s ready.” He rose. “Phin—”

“I know, don’t leave the car.”

As he headed up the passageway, Tick’s piping little voice reached him. “Phin, is what Eldora said true? Will Sam leave us when we get to Denver?”

Sam froze.

“Of course he will, you twit. He’s just looking after us as a favor to that dried-up old aunt of his that we saw at the station in St. Louis. What did you think? That he was going to adopt you or something? You’re worse than a girl for pipe dreams. He’ll drop us like a hot rock as soon as he can.”

Stung and not wanting to hear whatever other aspersions Phin might cast on his character, Sam stalked away. How had Phin struck so close to the truth?

I
sent a telegram from the last stop so transport will be waiting when we arrive.” Sam slid his watch out of his pocket. “We should be pulling into the station soon.”

Eldora nodded. Her skin stretched taut over her cheekbones, and the dark smudges hadn’t left the hollows under her eyes.

Several times over the past two days he’d tried to engage her in conversation, but she remained aloof. Though he knew he’d hurt her, he didn’t have a clue as to what he had done that was so terrible. Provided them with food, safe and comfortable travel, medical care, kindness. He clenched his back teeth.

Phin and Tick’s accusatory glares didn’t help the situation either. At least Celeste wasn’t shooting daggers his way with every glance. No, she just avoided looking at him altogether.

“If it weren’t dark, you could see the mountains by now.”

No one responded.

Eldora dug in her handbag and produced the box from the drugstore. She lifted one of the twists of paper out and emptied the contents into a cup of water. “Here, Tick, time for your medicine.”

The youngster made a face but gulped the stuff down, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand and giving the cup back to Eldora. “Thanks.”

Tick, one good change. Each day he seemed stronger, had more color in his cheeks, and he certainly had an appetite. The child could eat more than Sam and Phin combined, it seemed.

With almost imperceptible slowness, the train decelerated as they neared the Denver depot. Hundreds of train cars slid by the windows—boxcars, ore cars, and passenger cars. Lights and buildings. “We’ll have to cross over several tracks to get to the depot, so everyone keep hold of a hand.” The last thing he wanted was to lose someone in the dark rail yard or in the busy depot. “We’ll climb a flight of stairs to get to street level. That’s where Buckford will meet us with the sleigh.”

They rose as one and lined up by the door. Prisoners going to the dock. Why did he feel like an executioner? His promise to his aunt was almost fulfilled. Soon he’d be having supper with David and Karen, and tomorrow he’d be on the train to Martin City, home in time for Christmas.

The snow was a foot deep in places, so he picked Tick up. Two porters and Phin carried the bags, and they wove their way along with the other passengers to the brightly lit platform.

The instant their feet hit the boards, Tick wriggled to get down. He marched over to Eldora and took her hand, staring hard at Sam to be sure everyone knew where his allegiance lay.

“This way.” Their footsteps crunched on the damp concrete stairs leading to the street. Voices echoed off the tiled walls and were swallowed up when they reached the high-ceilinged waiting room. The smell of damp wool and wood smoke, people and cold weather, wrapped around him. Ushering his little group to a backwater corner where they wouldn’t be jostled, he scanned the crowd for a familiar face.

“Lookit that.” Tick pointed. Every window and wall was festooned with garlands and ribbon. Red and silver ornaments glinted in the gaslight. In the far corner, near the huge fireplace, a quartet broke into a Christmas carol. Each time the doors opened, a gust of wind brought in the tinkling sound of sleigh bells.

“Wonder what Christmas is like at this orphanage. In St. Louis, we got to eat ham, and every kid got new socks or gloves or something.” Phin kicked his heel against the wall, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.