Montana Man. Jillian Hart

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СКАЧАТЬ pinched lines around his expressive eyes and the fine cut of his mouth, drawn tight with worry for the child. He ran along the edge of the platform toward an open door.

      As the long line of cars continued to slide away, one by one, Miranda saw in her memory the train wreck, surging back like the leading edge of a Montana blizzard—harsh and swift and without mercy. She smelled the acrid scent of smoke, imagined the stillness after the world-altering screech of steel impacting steel, heard the passengers crying out in grief and fear and pain.

      She’d hurried to help those she could then, and she ran to the uncle and niece now, her hand brushing the hard, lean curve of the doctor’s upper arm. She felt a flash of heat through his wool coat and her kid gloves where they briefly touched. But her gaze was only on the child, a little girl so fragile it looked as if the wind could blow her away as easily as it drove delicate snowflakes to the ground.

      “I know what you need.” Miranda heard an explosion of gunfire behind her, pivoted, and saw the band of men riding hard down the nearby street.

      The train continued snaking away, car after car lumbering by as Josie’s Uncle Trey stopped running and turned to study her with eyes dark with hope. “What you need is a good-luck charm.”

      “Ain’t no such thing.” The child’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

      “Sure there is. I have one hanging around my neck right now.”

      “It’s just a locket.”

      “Just a locket?” Her hands trembled as she heard the approaching thunder of horses growing louder and closer. She lifted the chain over the knot of hair pinned at the crown of her head and the peak of her bonnet.

      “Sounds like some trouble’s headed this way.” Trey straightened his broad shoulders and gazed quietly toward the street, where a handful of rough men drove lathered horses through the crowd of departing people straight toward the platform.

      Trouble? It was the end of her life. Her instincts told her to run, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. She placed the gold chain over Josie’s strawberry blonde curls and laid the small locket against the placket of the girl’s fine dress. “I promise, Josie, this will keep you safe. It’s always worked for me.”

      “Really?” Doubt-filled eyes blinked away tears.

      “I’ve ridden on probably fifty trains, and look at me, I’m as safe as can be.” She might be trembling and might be looking danger in the face, but she had to help this child. It mattered more to her than she could explain. “I promise, if you wear this, you’ll be safe.”

      “Looks like this is the last car.” The doctor’s voice sounded gruff, raw with emotion, as he started running. “C’mon, hurry. We can still make it.”

      Miranda heard the drum of shod hooves on the platform and felt the boards quake with the force of the galloping horses. She took off at a dead run as the caboose ambled past and caught up with the doctor as he handed his niece to the conductor inside the train.

      “Hurry. You can do it.” He held tight to the metal bar at the open door and reached out for her with the other.

      Gunfire pierced the air, a warning shot from not three feet behind her. Fear drove her forward and she caught the tips of the doctor’s fingers.

      Strong and sure, he clamped on and pulled her to him. She pitched into his arms and somehow the toe of her shoe caught the bottom step. She stumbled, but the strong man’s grip on her shoulder guided her into the car.

      She looked back to see the caboose slipping away from the edge of the platform, leaving the armed bounty hunter and his men at the edge.

      Gaining speed, the train eased around a slow curve, breaking away from the bustling town toward the steep peaks of the Continental Divide.

      Trey closed the door behind him, gazing at her with eyes wise and wondering, with a hint of a smile touching the left corner of his mouth. “Looks like your friends didn’t make the train.”

      “They weren’t friends I wanted to travel with.”

      “Then you’re in luck.” He reached past her to heft Josie up into his arms. “Those bullets could have hit someone. Are you hurt?”

      “No, I don’t think they would have actually shot me.” She righted her bonnet and tried to take a step back, to put distance between them. “Thank you.”

      “Well, I want to check on the caboose. Those might have been warning shots, but bullets fired up in the air have a way of coming right back down. I want to make sure no one’s hurt. Would you do me a favor?”

      “If I can.”

      Steady warmth snapped in his eyes, drawing her closer even when she wanted to escape. “Would you stay with Josie? Josie, would it be all right if our mystery lady stays with you for a few minutes?”

      “I’m no mystery, believe me.” Miranda dropped her eyes to the child’s peaked face, pinched with worry, and tried hard to ignore Trey’s measuring gaze. “My name’s Miranda.”

      “No last name to go with that?” His grin dazzled, carving twin dimples in his left cheek. “Or are you on the run from the law?”

      “That’s right. I’m fleeing from justice and it’s best for both of you if you don’t know my last name.” Her chest tightened, for that wasn’t far from the truth. She was an heiress, not a fugitive, but she was fleeing and from far more than the price on her head.

      Remembering her pursuers, she glanced out the window at the heavily falling snow and saw nothing but rangeland, the town and the bounty hunter left far behind.

      “I would love keeping an eye on your niece.” She was safe, for now at least. The men who hunted her would wire ahead to the next major town, she had no doubt of that. But somehow she would figure a way out. She’d been doing it all the way from Philadelphia.

      “Miranda.” Josie tilted her head to one side, fear still glittering in her emerald eyes, but at least the panic was at bay. “Wanna see my baby doll?”

      “Sure I do.” She stepped forward to lift the child out of her uncle’s protective hold. The scent of him enveloped her, leather, wood smoke and man, the blend attractive and pleasing, making her wish…well, for things that she could never have if she were caught.

      Miranda knew it was a risk to speak with anyone who would remember her, especially to tell them her first name, but she knew what it was like to be a child, defenseless and alone, with a broken heart and a sorrow big enough to drown in. She cradled Josie close, careful of her braced leg. “Let’s go find your seats.”

      “First class.” The doctor handed her the tickets, and she noticed for the first time as their fingers brushed how well shaped his hands were, thick and strong, but sensitive. Healer’s hands.

      Just like her father’s.

      Her stomach snapped tight at the memory, pain and regret gripping her hard. She nearly dropped the tickets as she spun away, closing her mind off from a past she’d vowed never to remember again.

       Chapter Two

       “N o one was СКАЧАТЬ