Page 31 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 1

Colorado Territory Saturday, July 12, 1873

“Ladies and gentlemen, please make room,” the conductor’s voice boomed from the head of the aisle. “We have a very full train heading into Denver.”

The announcement drew Andie McGovern’s attention from the thick tome in her lap. The conductor disappeared, appearing again outside the train car. Passengers jostled past, some filing off, some on, while others changed seats. A family of four hurried across the busy platform, the man rushing toward the conductor. After a brief conversation, they were waved inside.

As they rounded the corner to the main aisle, the mother, guiding a boy and a girl, looked down the length of the car. Andie glanced across the way. If she moved to where the dusty cowboy lounged with his hat over his eyes halfway down the car, she could free up four seats for the family to sit together. Otherwise, they’d have to sit in pairs, separated by several rows on opposite sides of the car. Andie rose, retrieved her colorful carpetbag, and, book clutched in her arm, motioned for the family to take her place.

“Thank you kindly, miss.” The woman guided her children to the seats, and Andie moved down the way.

“Excuse me, sir.”

The dusty man didn’t stir. Instead, he sat, arms folded across his chest, head against the window, face obscured by his hat, and long legs stretched so that his feet rested kitty-corner on the opposite bench, blocking the entire red velvet seat. A long brown duster and saddlebags occupied the space next to him.

One man occupying four seats. Papa had warned before she left St. Louis that life in the West may seem rather uncouth comparatively.

Andie cleared her throat. “Pardon.”

He still didn’t move.

Setting her bag down, she tapped his thigh with her book.

He jerked the hat from his face and, scowling, reached toward the holstered pistol she hadn’t noticed against his right thigh. Her heart thrummed. Andie drew back with a sharp gasp, clutching the book as she grabbed her carpetbag.

The man’s face blanched, and he rose to catch her elbow. “Whoa, now. Sorry.” He locked his intense blue eyes with her. “So sorry. You all right?”

“Fine.” Except her knees had gone soft and she trembled.

The man’s cheeks reddened. “You startled me.”

And he’d terrified her!

“Release me, sir,” she whispered.

Eyes widening, his grip loosened. She pulled free and brushed at her sleeve, then hurried to one of the few empty seats at the far end. Only as she beelined for it, a man entered from the opposite end and inquired about it. The passengers around it nodded, and the man sat.

Gaze roving, she saw another seemingly empty place—much closer—but as she neared, it too was occupied. A knot lodged in her middle. Turning back, she realized the only seats … no, seat —a couple had taken those across from the man—the only seat available was beside the long-legged cowboy.

Lord Jesus, please … must I sit next to him?

But there were no other places.

Uneasy, she returned the way she’d come. When she reached the empty seat, she paused, glancing once at him and immediately averting her eyes.

“Is this seat taken?”

Blue eyes drew her to look again, though she did so only long enough to see his embarrassed smile.

“Now it is, miss. Welcome back. And again, sorry for frightening you.”

Without acknowledging him, she put her carpetbag between them as a buffer, then sat as close to the aisle as she could.

The other couple offered pinched smiles as she settled her book in her lap and tried to read. Flustered as she was, she couldn’t force her mind to focus.

Who was this man? An outlaw? A gunman? As quickly as he’d reached for the pistol at his side, probably the latter. Would he rob the train? She’d heard of such events.

Oh, Lord, perhaps I should have had Freddy escort me all the way to Denver.

Papa would’ve preferred it, but it seemed silly to have her cousin travel out of his way when, in a few hours, she would reach her meeting point with Calliope. Of course, she would’ve preferred Papa accompany her himself. His calming presence and legal expertise would be welcome on this trip. Once more, she gave the man a sidelong glance then focused on her book.

Lord, have I made a grave mistake? Protect me, please.

The train pulled out, and the conductor made the rounds. As he reached her, she closed the book’s cover.

“How long until we reach Denver?”

Removing his pocket watch, he clicked open the cover. “About an hour and a half, miss.”

“Thank you.”

He checked the tickets of the others seated with her and moved on.

An hour and a half sitting next to a possible outlaw—an uncomfortable proposition after he’d left her embarrassed and on edge. More importantly, an hour and a half until Calliope would meet her. After fifteen years, she could wait that much longer, even if next to a man of questionable integrity and character.

So long as he didn’t rob the train …

She opened the cover of her book to remove Callie’s telegram, but her stomach knotted. It wasn’t there!

Clapping the cover closed, she swept the layers of her dress and petticoats this way then that as she searched the floor. Not seeing it, she stood and checked the seat, but it wasn’t there. She peeked down the aisle.

“Lose something, miss?” the cowboy called.

Again, she opened the cover of her book and leafed through the first few pages. “An important letter.”

“You stored it in your book?”

Her temples throbbed as she deposited the tome on her seat. “In the front cover.” She charged up the aisle to her original seat.

“Pardon. I’ve misplaced a telegram. Would you happen to have seen it?”

“I’m sorry, miss. No.” The gentleman shook his head.

Her head spun. Where could it have gone?

“Thank you.” She forced a smile, though it likely looked as if she had a stomach cramp.

She turned, ready to walk the aisle, but as she did, the cowboy caught her eye and held up Callie’s message.

Andie stormed back and snatched it away. “Where did you get this?” She hissed the words.

The man’s brows shot up. “I found it in the front cover of your book, there.” He smirked at the thick volume. “Considering you were readin’ the durn thing upside down, miss, you only looked in the back.”

Her cheeks flamed as the other couple stifled smiles.

“And as a matter of record, I didn’t read it. I simply found it—exactly where you said.”

The gent facing them nodded. “He’s tellin’ the truth, miss. I watched him turn your book over, and it was right there. He ain’t had time to read it.”

If only she could crawl into a hole somewhere. “Forgive me.” The words grated like sand in her throat, and meeting his … incredible … gaze was worse, considering his smirk. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Thank you for finding it.”

He nodded. “I figure we’re about even, miss. I scared the bejeebers out of you. You snapped at me. It’s a wash. Maybe we could start over …?”

So much for Papa’s warning of the uncouth West. Thus far, she’d been the ill-mannered one.

“I think that’s wise.” She nodded. “Thank you.”

He shifted toward her. “My name’s Daniel Littrick. And you are?”

“Andromeda Braddock McGovern.” Why she felt compelled to add the Braddock, she couldn’t say—except that on the verge of reconnecting with her younger sister and older brother, she was feeling nostalgic for her birth surname, like she had in the year immediately after her adoption.

That annoying smirk returned. “Quite a mouthful, there. Didn’t your parents like you?”

The storm clouds of embarrassment and shame that had just started to break came crowding back in. “What kind of a question is that? Of course they did!”

He chuckled. “It’s just … that’s an awful big handle for a pretty little thing. Kinda like that thick ol’ book you’re tryin’ to read.”

Jaw clenched, she clutched the book to her chest. “What an insufferable thing to say! Every part of my name is full with personal meaning. And as for my literature choices, I’ve read this book—and others just as large—many times through. Unlike you. You’re probably illiterate.” She scooted toward the aisle, as if she could get any further away. “Now I’ll thank you, Mr. Littrick, to mind your own business and not speak to me again.”

Heat like that of a desert at high noon crawled up his neck. Had he honestly just asked a total stranger if her parents didn’t like her—because of her long name?

What had possessed him?

He knew.

From the instant he’d been startled awake and nearly drew down on her, he’d been on his proverbial heels and tryin’ to find his balance. He’d tried to tease his way to better footing. His last comments were meant simply to be funny. Durn it, he should know better. Get him around a pretty gal and he’d forget his expensive college education and run on at the mouth like the village idiot.

“Guess I’ve done stuck my foot in it. Forgive me, miss. No disrespect intended.” He exhaled. “Won’t bother you again.”

Settling his hat over his eyes again, he huddled against the window, arms folded.

Honestly, his problem hadn’t begun when he was startled awake. It stemmed from why he rode the train to begin with. After three trips to Cheyenne in six months—one to see his youngest brother married, another for the births of his older brother’s and his only sister’s first children, and the last to move his father and business partner to be near their expanding family—he was plain irritated. He was the only kin left in the Colorado Territory … and the only one left to run a business he’d not been interested in starting. Oh, he could pull up stakes and move, but after years away at college, the thought of starting over held no appeal.

So his failed teasing over Miss McGovern’s name had come because of some prickly areas within himself. He’d acted the fool, and she thought him a scoundrel. Did it honestly matter? She was headed to Denver. He’d head to parts beyond once they unloaded his paint horse, Briar, from the stock car … and he’d probably never come across her again.

He could live with that.

Although her choice in reading had given him pause. Few outside of academic circles or with a bent toward politics read Sir William Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England —and even fewer women. He would’ve thought her more the Godey’s Lady’s Book sort, with her fashionable green dress and perfectly coiffed hair. She reminded him of the women he’d met back east while attaining his degree. The same sorts who’d poked fun at his colloquial turns of phrase or simplistic Western sensibilities.

Daniel shoved aside his thoughts, and the rhythmic rattling of the car and the darkness under his hat set him drifting again. When he roused, it was to the conductor’s announcement that they were approaching the Denver station. He straightened, clapped his hat on his head, and gathered his duster and saddlebags.

Beside him, Miss McGovern flipped a page and read on. He watched, impressed at how quickly she turned the next page. She obviously wasn’t laboring to understand … which was a relative feat. His first time through the four volumes had taken him weeks to ponder and understand.

He cleared his throat, and she glanced his way.

“Blackstone’s no light read, miss.”

Her lips curved into a frown. “And your point is?”

He furrowed his brow. “That Commentaries on the Laws of England can be difficult.”

“You’re familiar with Blackstone’s writings.”

“I’ve perused the pages a time or two.”

“And that makes you an expert?”

“Didn’t say that. Just that such a book takes some effort.”

“And a woman couldn’t possibly grasp such difficult meanings—is that it?”

He rubbed at his forehead beneath his hat. Yep, he was most certainly the village idiot.

Am I ever gonna learn, Lord?

He’d tried, for durn sure, but the lessons never seemed to stick.

“Forgive me, miss. I’ll just leave you to your reading. Sorry for the interruption.”

Her cheeks turned as red as some of the flowers in the weave of her carpetbag. “I suppose I was rather rude.”

“No.” He let his contempt drip from the word. “Surely not you. I should know that a refined lady such as yourself wouldn’t spare a moment to converse with a dirty, know-nothin’ saddle tramp like me. Forgive me for wasting your precious time.”

This time, her lips parted in shock, and he reveled too much in the shamed look in her brown eyes.

He set his face toward the window as Denver came into view. As they neared, the train slowed. Beside him, she was more subdued, perhaps not so full of herself as she tucked the book away. She peered past him toward the train platform as it came into view, as if searching for someone. As she craned her neck, a smile broke across her face. The snap of the carpetbag’s clasp drew his attention as she closed it and drew it into her lap, brushing it where it might have contacted his leg. He rolled his eyes.

She was obviously itching to see someone. Who was there to meet this uppity shrew? Not that it mattered … but who would put up with such behavior?

Thank goodness, once the train stopped, he wouldn’t have to. He’d collect Briar and be on his way. He’d never cared for being sharp-tongued and rude, especially to a woman, but sometimes, folks just needed a dose of their own medicine.

It was for the best.

Once the train rolled to a stop, Miss McGovern rose, her bag held tight, and allowed the couple across from them to step into the aisle as others rose to disembark. She scowled as she motioned for him to slip into the walkway.

“No thank you, miss. I’ll wait till you’re clear. Wouldn’t want to stand too close. Something might rub off …”

Despite how she lifted her chin in disgust, he wasn’t about to take the prodding words back.