Everything had happened so quickly she’d barely had time to think of the ramifications of her actions, something her grandmother would say was typical of her. Her impulse to act first and think later was what had caused her current disgrace. Which had ultimately resulted in her being banished to Tyler.
And speaking of Tyler, what would her grandmother’s friend, Mrs. O’Connell, think when Eve didn’t get off the train at her appointed stop today as planned? Would she change her mind about taking Eve on as an apprentice?
And if so, would that actually be such a terrible thing? After all, working in the back room of a millinery shop was not something she had ever aspired to.
Eve immediately took herself to task for that disrespectful and ungrateful thought. Her grandmother had gone to a lot of trouble to secure this position for her. It might not be what Eve wanted for herself, but she knew she should be thankful for the opportunity to make a fresh start. Of course, it would be easier to feel appreciative if her grandmother hadn’t also made certain that the story of Eve’s past followed her there.
What would it be like to truly have a fresh start, to go somewhere where no one knew her past, where no one was constantly watching her, waiting for her to stumble?
Well, at least now she had a short reprieve. No one here had any idea who she was or what her past was like. And what a freeing thought that was. Perhaps she’d even run into her blue-eyed knight again.
She gathered up her bag and shawl and hurried back out onto the platform with lighter steps than when she’d first started on this journey.
* * *
Chance Dawson stood inside the depot, leaning casually against the counter. He was here to check on a part he’d ordered for his current project. Hopefully it had arrived on the morning train.
From the looks of things, though, it was going to take Todd a while to sort through the mountain of mail and packages that had just come in. Not that Chance minded the wait. He wasn’t in much of a hurry and besides, watching the folks around him was a hobby of his.
And there were plenty of folks to watch in here. Besides Lionel, the stationmaster, and Todd his helper, a number of others were in the depot office, waiting either to board the train or, like him, to check on arriving cargo.
But none was as interesting as the woman he’d seen out on the platform a few moments ago. The way that petite protector had faced down the conductor despite her obvious timidity had been impressive to watch. But when her gaze had locked with his, the overwhelming urge to come to her defense had rocked him. It was probably just as well she’d turned away from him.
Dotty Epps walked in just then, interrupting his thoughts. He and the elderly widow had formed an unlikely friendship this past year. She was one of the very few people who knew his secret and she not only kept it but didn’t let it affect how she treated him.
“Not planning on leaving town on that train are you?” he said by way of greeting. “Turnabout just wouldn’t be the same without you.”
She gave him one of her cheery smiles. “You’re not going to get rid of me so easily, Chance Dawson.” She lifted the small parcel she was holding. “I’m just posting a package for my grandson. He has a birthday next week.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He turned serious. “How are things?” The recent loss of her home and most of her possessions to a fire had taken a toll, but it hadn’t seemed to diminish her positive outlook on life.
Her smile acquired a wistful tone. “I miss my home, but the boardinghouse is comfortable. There’s a whole lot less housework to be done, and more company, as well. My daughter keeps asking me to move to Jefferson to live with her and her family, but this is where my friends are.”
“Well, you know if you need anything, you have only to ask.”
She patted his hand. “Thank you, but I’m doing fine.”
As she moved on to the counter, Chance returned to eavesdropping on the conductor. The man was energetically recounting a rather embellished version of how he’d expertly identified and dealt with the sly stowaway.
His story, which painted the kid as some sort of treacherous thief, differed significantly from what Chance had observed earlier. Of course, at the time he’d been more focused on the determined young woman who was so very staunchly defending the boy than on the conductor and the kid himself.
She had intrigued him, and it wasn’t just that she’d taken up for the boy—though he did admire her for that. It was more the contradictions he’d sensed in her.
Her appearance—from her tightly coifed brown hair that not even a sudden gust of November wind could ruffle, to her high-collared, severe dress and stiff posture— proclaimed her to be a very prim and proper young lady, one who was a bit on the mousy side. She’d also seemed quite young. But when the petite defender had defiantly lifted her chin, he’d seen the flash of fire in her expressive brown eyes, a fire that made him think perhaps she wasn’t quite so prim and proper after all—and definitely not mousy. The maturity he’d seen there surprised him, as well. She was much more than the child she’d looked at first sight.
Then she’d spotted him watching her. If she’d given him the least indication that she wanted his help with the conductor, he’d have immediately stepped forward. But instead she’d stiffened and very deliberately turned away. It wasn’t at all the kind of reaction he was used to getting from the ladies of his acquaintance, especially one who was so obviously in a tight spot. He hadn’t been sure what to make of it, so he’d shrugged it off and proceeded inside the depot.
But ever since then he’d had the nagging feeling he might have made the wrong call.
“I left him out there on the platform.” The conductor’s words to Lionel pulled Chance back to the present. “He’s a shifty one. If I were you I’d keep a close eye on things around here until he moves on.”
Dotty placed her hand on her heart. “Do you consider this man dangerous then? Should Sheriff Gleason be informed?”
Chance decided it was time to add his two cents. “This blackguard the conductor is describing happens to be a young boy, not a man.”
Dotty wrinkled her nose. “Surely you don’t mean that child I saw waiting on the platform a moment ago?” She stared at the conductor as if he’d had the bad manners to relate an off-color story. “Why, he can’t be more than nine or ten years old and he certainly looked more forlorn than cunning.”
Chance nodded. “Nevertheless, that’s the accused.”
The conductor, whose face had gained a reddish hue, gave them both a haughty look. “Just because he’s young doesn’t mean he ain’t to be watched.”
Chance raised a brow. “The young lady who stuck up for him earlier didn’t seem to think he was a threat to anyone.” In fact, she’d seemed ready to defend him against all comers.
The conductor tugged on his vest. “You know how young ladies are, too tenderhearted for their own good most times, especially when it comes to young’uns.”
Tenderhearted? Maybe. But there seemed to be more backbone to the woman than that.
The conductor had apparently tired of the subject. He turned away, flipped open his pocket watch and informed the waiting passengers it was time to board.
Chance’s thoughts were still on the stowaway’s protectoress. He liked to puzzle out what made people act the way they did—and she offered an intriguing challenge. Too bad the woman wasn’t sticking around.
He’d kept an eye on her peripherally through the depot window and had felt a small stab of disappointment when he saw her say goodbye to the boy and head back toward the train. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of him had actually expected her to stay with the kid.