Colorado Dawn (38 page)

“Maybe, but does that mean they should never have any fun, never have any good times, just because the future might not be so rosy? And who’s to say the future might not be brighter than you think?”

“Rosy futures don’t happen to orphans very often, especially not these three. This train trip marks the end of your destination. You’re coming home, but we’re just marking time. You’ve convinced me to accept your hospitality for the holiday, but after Christmas I still have to find somewhere for these children and myself. The best I can figure is maybe I can get a job as a laundress somewhere—I have plenty of experience as a laundress—and maybe I can find a cheap place to rent—”

The lines on her forehead and the way she twisted her fingers together tore at him, reminding him again of how blessed he had been. “Don’t worry about that now. I told you, things will work out.” He took her hands and drew her to the cushioned bench along the wall. “What else is bothering you? Maybe talking about it would help.”

She lifted her chin in an all-too-familiar gesture that told him he was about to be rebuffed. Again. Then, to his surprise, her eyes glistened, and she ducked her head. Candlelight raced along the coil of her hair, and he wanted to gather her into his arms, to promise her that nothing and no one would ever hurt her. The strength of his protective feelings caught him so off guard he almost missed what she had to say.

“It was when you said your father would be reading the Christmas story.” She whispered, barely audible above the clack of the train and the howl of the wind. “My father used to do that on Christmas Day. It’s one of my most vivid memories of him.”

She turned those big, brown eyes on him, and his heart raced until he thought he might need a dose of Tick’s medicine. “How old were you when you lost him?”

“Ten. I was devastated. I’d already lost my mother to sickness the previous year.” She shook her head and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “We lived in Pennsylvania.”

“Pennsylvania? How’d you wind up in St. Louis?” He rubbed his thumbs across the backs of her chilly hands, grateful that she hadn’t withdrawn from him.

“Overcrowded orphanages are a fact of life. When there was no more room in the Pittsburgh orphanage, they put us on a westbound train. At every stop, they’d get us off, line us up, and people would look us over for who they would want to adopt.” Her delicate throat lurched, and she shrugged. “Nobody wanted me. At ten I was too big to be someone’s baby, but I was too small to be of much use around the house. Like Tick, I was skinny and small for my age, and…ugly.”

“Ugly?” He jerked. “Who told you that?”

“The matron at the first orphanage I was sent to. She said I was all eyes and knees and sallow skin, and who would want a child so morose and difficult anyway? Hair that can’t decide whether to be yellow or brown, and dirt-brown eyes don’t exactly shout ‘beautiful’ to anyone.” She freed one of her hands from his, touched her hair, and shrugged, but the hurt of those words lingered in her eyes. “When we got to St. Louis, I was the only one who hadn’t been adopted, so I was dumped in the orphanage there. The matron didn’t think I’d amount to much either, and she was right.” Red tinged her cheeks, and she ducked her head. “I can’t seem to hold a job, and I can’t seem to find a home for these three kids, not even an orphanage.”

Her casual acceptance of the matron’s summing up of her looks and worth disturbed him. “I don’t know what you looked like at ten, newly bereaved and being toted across country, but I can assure you, you’re no ugly duckling.” Sam tugged on her hand to get her to look at him. Again her magnificent eyes sent a jolt through him. “You’re beautiful.”

She shook her head. “That’s silly. I saw Yvette Adelman at the train station.
She’s
beautiful. Porcelain skin, china-blue eyes, and that magnificent auburn hair. She turns heads everywhere she goes. She turned yours. Karen told me about it this morning while we were packing.”

His collar tightened, and when she would’ve withdrawn her hand, he held on. “That was momentary foolishness. I won’t gainsay that Yvette is nice to look at, but that’s all. She’s calculating, scheming, and has an eye to the main chance. She only wants what she can get out of a man, and she’s selfish to the core. I feel sorry for her. I’m sorry she got herself into the family way, but I’m not going to marry her just to salvage her reputation.”

Eldora’s jaw dropped. “You utter cad!” She reared back, yanking her hand away. “What kind of man—”

“Ellie, stop it!” Sam lunged for her and clamped his hand over her mouth. She writhed in his embrace. “No, stop it. You’re going to hear me out.” Her movements stilled, but her eyes shot sparks. He eased his hand away from her lips, wary that she might burst into scalding speech before he could explain himself. Her nostrils flared with her indignant breathing and she quivered. Momentarily distracted by her nearness, by her pink lips and flushed face, he had to force himself to concentrate.

“I told you not to call me Ellie.”

“So you did, and I apologize, but you are going to listen to me. You’ve had the wrong idea about Yvette from the start.” Though he didn’t want to, he let his arms fall away from her. “No man likes to speak ill of a woman, but you have to know the truth. Yvette
is
expecting a child, but it isn’t mine. I know I can offer you no proof but my word, but I assure you it is
impossible
that the baby could be mine.” He stared into her eyes, willing her to understand his meaning and to believe him.

She drew a deep breath and nodded, but doubt lingered, forcing him to go on and admit the entire humiliation of his error in judgment.

“I didn’t even know about the baby until Yvette came to the station. From the very beginning she set out to try to trap me into marrying her because I’m wealthy. Her mother brought her up to marry a rich man, and when Yvette found herself with child by a poor man, they locked onto me as the scapegoat, or should I say scape-sheep. I overheard her and her mother summing me up as a dumb sheep, led to the slaughter.” He spread his hands. “I admit I was a gullible fool, taken in by her good looks and flattery, but even before I knew what a schemer she was, the engagement was proving to be more pyrite than gold.”

“I’m sorry. That’s a terrible thing for you to overhear.”

“I’m not sorry. I’m grateful. Better a broken engagement than a broken marriage. I only regret being such a mug and getting hornswoggled by their trap. You and Yvette couldn’t be more different. She took everything I gave her and expected more—trinkets, flowers, candy. You, on the other hand, won’t take so much as a new pair of shoes without fighting me every step of the way.” He tilted his head and smiled ruefully.

Eldora rose and went to stand by the windows. By now the snow was so thick and the light so poor it was impossible to make out anything more than a few feet from the train. “You don’t know what it’s like, always living on sufferance, forced to take charity, knowing that eventually those who are doing their good works toward you are going to abandon you for something else. We learn not to count on others, to rely on ourselves, because in the end that’s all we have.”

“What about your faith?”

A smile touched the corner of her lips. “Faith’s important. Who do you think brings us through when people fail us as they always do? I’ve been holding on to my faith with both hands this whole trip. I don’t know when I’ve prayed harder.”

“You do realize that God uses people to fulfill His purposes, right? If you’re praying for help, that help is most likely going to come through someone God brings into your life.”

She squirmed and flung her hand out. “I know. I don’t—”

Her words were cut off as the train lurched. A shudder rippled through the car, and a horrible grinding noise came from the undercarriage. Sparks illuminated the air beneath the window.

Eldora grabbed a chair, but it gave way under her hand, sending her tumbling into Sam’s arms. He held her tight as the coach lurched and rocked, bracing his feet against the floor and his back against the sofa.

Metal screeched and a sound like gravel in a sluice blanketed them. Glass broke and chairs tumbled, and the lamp went out.

E
ldora was conscious of cold air flowing over her and the rise and fall of Sam’s chest under her ear. She fought to unscramble her brain and her limbs.

“What happened?” Hunks of snow and ice bit her skin, and when she tried to roll off Sam, shards of glass tinkled.

He grabbed her. “Be still. I think the window broke. I don’t want you getting cut.” Wood clacked as he shoved aside a chair and stood, bringing her with him.

Glass trickled off her hair and shoulders, and her hip throbbed where she’d knocked it against something. “We’ve stopped. Is the car tilting?”

“I think we derailed. Are you hurt?” A match scritched and flared, bringing his face into golden-yellow sight. “We’re lucky that lamp went out instead of exploding.” Before the match burned too low, he climbed to the opposite side of the car and took down the kerosene lamp. The globe had come off and broken, but the bowl and wick seemed intact. He touched the match to the cotton wick and jerked his hand away as the match burned out. “Ouch.” Holding the lamp high, he surveyed the room.

“We’ve got to get to the children.” As she turned to head toward the front of the car, the sound of movement reached her.

“Karen? Sam? Eldora?” David’s voice came down the passageway. “Karen? Are you all right?”

“Dave, we’re back here. Stay put until I can get to you.” Sam took Eldora’s hand and helped her along the leaning hall.

“Check on Karen first. The kids and I are fine, just shaken up a little.”

Relief coursed through Eldora as she followed Sam. They reached the door to the stateroom where Karen had been napping, but it was wedged shut.

“Karen? Are you all right?” Sam pounded on the door and then handed Eldora the lamp.

“I think so. What happened?” The wooden panel muffled her voice. “I can’t get the door open.”

“Get back. I’m going to see if I can force it.” Sam braced his back against the window frame and kicked his boot upward, crashing it into the brass hasp. The wood around the hasp cracked and splintered. Once more he kicked, and the door broke free of the latch. Using his shoulder, he shoved the pocket door to the side and reached in for Karen.

Her hair tumbled down her neck, and her eyes shone in the lamplight. “Is David all right? And the children?”

They assembled in the front sitting room, taking stock. Eldora’s heart gave a pang at the tender embrace shared by David and Karen as they reassured each other that no harm had been done. What must it be like to be cared for that much?

More glass had broken in the front salon, and snow and cold rushed in. Sam shook out Celeste’s hood and cloak and handed them to her. “Everybody put on your coats and hats. David, keep everyone here while I go forward and assess the damage. Where’s Buckford?”

Phin shook Tick’s coat free of glass and helped the little boy into it. “He said there was one more tray to bring from the dining car.”

Sam headed for the door. “I’ll find him and see how bad the damage is. If it’s just our car and the caboose, we’ll probably uncouple them and go on.”

Eldora tugged on her mittens, trying not to give in to the fear pounding on her chest. If it wasn’t just the private car and caboose, what then? They were high in a mountain pass with the snow piling up and pouring in.

She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. “We should marshal our resources here. There might be other people who were hurt. Phin, find as many lamps as you can that didn’t get broken and bring them back here. Wedge this table so it is fairly level. Celeste, gather blankets from the beds and be sure to shake them out well in case any glass got on them. Tick, stack these bags up.” She pointed to the jumble of suitcases and valises that had tumbled from the overhead rack.

Karen handed David his muffler and slipped her arms into her coat sleeves. “I’ll get the medicine kit from the washroom. Eldora, where are you going?”

“I’m going forward to see how bad things are. When I find Buckford, I’ll send him to you.”

The thin afternoon light had faded toward dusk, but when she emerged from the private car, she could still see the devastation before her. The private car and caboose had uncoupled and lay several yards back from the rest of the train. Through the snow, she made out the back of the passenger car, but it leaned off-kilter, half hanging over the downhill slope to her left. The baggage car appeared to have burst, and parcels and bags littered the mountainside below the train. Where the engine and tender should have been, a mass of snow, rocks, shattered trees, and debris covered the tracks. Sam waded knee deep in the drifts, battling to get to the passenger car. Dark forms emerged through the tilted door, reassuring her that others had survived beyond themselves.

Eldora blinked, barely able to take in the scene. The wind buffeted her, and she ducked her head into it. The cold sucked her breath from her lungs and tingled against her cheeks. She stuck her head back into the private car. “There’s been an avalanche. The engine is buried, and the passenger car is off the tracks. I’m going to help Sam. Phin, you stay here.” She held up her hand when the boy started toward her. “David and Karen will need you here.”

Floundering in the snow, she fought her way up the incline toward where Sam now handed passengers down to those waiting to receive them. Gasping, she joined the growing group at the rear of the car. “How many passengers are there?” She tried to wipe the snow from her face but only smeared it with her coated mittens.

“Eldora, what are you doing out here? Go back!” Sam scowled at her and tugged his hat on tighter.

“I want to help. Is anyone seriously hurt?”

“It doesn’t seem so, though we won’t know until we do a head count and assess things. Now stay back. We’ve got to get them out of this car in case it decides to slide farther down the slope. Help get folks to our car. It’s tilted, but it’s more secure than this one.”

A woman emerged from the back door, and strong hands lowered her to the tracks. Eldora took her arm. “Are you injured? Can you walk?”