Maddie nodded. “I haven’t seen them in such a long time. I’m glad we’re going there. They have a horse farm. You’ll like it. I used to spend summers there when I was a kid.”
“When I was young, I was fascinated with horses. My ma used to buy me little figurines and we’d play with them. I had palominos and pintos and dappled grays. And I had books and movies. My Friend Flicka was my favorite.”
“And you never learned to ride?”
“I had big dreams of being a cowboy. But after my mom died, I just kind of lost interest.”
“She died when you were young?” Maddie asked.
“You don’t want to hear my sad story,” he said.
“I do. You know all of mine. Well, maybe not all of them. But you know a few. How did your mom die?”
“She and my dad were sailing a boat to the South Pacific and they just disappeared. We never heard from them again.”
A gasp slipped from her lips and her eyes went wide. “Just like that? They were gone?”
Kieran nodded. “I was nine. We moved out of our house and went to live with my grandfather.”
“You were an orphan? Why haven’t you told me this?”
“I guess it just didn’t come up.”
“It should have,” Maddie said. She shook her head. “I feel awful.”
“It happened a long time ago,” Kieran said.
“No—I mean, I do feel awful for you. But this whole time, I’ve been going on and on about how horrible my mother is and how I could hardly wait to get away from her and—and—”
Her eyes filled with tears and she brushed them aside. Kieran sat up, alarmed by the sudden turn in her emotions. “Oh, don’t cry. It’s all right. It was a long time ago. And your relationship with your—”
“I’m selfish,” Maddie snapped. “I think everything revolves around me. I never even thought to ask about you and your family. I mean, you told me about your brothers, but I just assumed everything had been—happy. You seem so normal, I thought you’d had a normal life.” This brought another flood of tears.
“Don’t cry,” he said, brushing his lips against hers.
“How horrible for you. I feel so bad.”
“Maddie, we’ve known each other for three days. Not even that long. I figured we’d get to that story sooner or later. Sometimes, it’s just difficult to explain. And people usually react like you. Which makes things even more difficult.”
Forcing a smile, she brushed her tears away. “Sorry. It’s just so sad.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him again, her backside nestled in his lap. “I didn’t have a father, but I never really missed him. He was never part of my life. Your parents were just ripped away.”
“We adjusted,” Kieran said. “My brothers and I were—and are—really close. And my grandfather did his best. But he really didn’t know how to deal with grief like that. We hung out at work with him and learned the business. And that’s why I’m here, on my way to Bitney.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My grandfather wanted us all to find a different life for six weeks. Since we didn’t have a chance to follow our own dreams, he thought by sending us all out into the world with a bus ticket and a little cash, we’d find out whether we were living the life we wanted or the life we’d been handed.”
“You’re on a quest,” she said.
“Me and my three brothers. Although, I can’t imagine that their quests have turned out anything like mine.”
“Tell me more about your brothers,” she said. “And your childhood. I want to know everything. Even the bad stuff.”
Kieran pulled her down beside him, her body stretched out against his. “We’ll have time,” he whispered. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. But right now, I’d rather kiss you.”
They had to get up and get packed in about an hour. And right now, he just wanted to close his eyes, pull her naked body against his, and sleep. Sad stories could wait.
“All right,” Maddie said, wiping away the last of her tears. “Next time, I won’t cry.”
“That would be good,” he murmured, kissing her temple.
THEY BOARDED THE train fifteen minutes before departure. The attendant helped them find their room, a tiny cabin with a pull-down bed and a closet-sized bathroom. A bottle of champagne and a basket of fruit sat on the small table between the seats and they were informed that breakfast would be served in the dining car after the train left the station.
But Maddie wasn’t interested in food. She had the attendant pull the bed down, then crawled into it. The gentle rocking of the train lulled her into a deep sleep that began outside Topeka and didn’t end until the train was somewhere in Iowa.
For Maddie, this was the perfect way to travel. She and Kieran were alone, with everything they needed to be comfortable. They caught up on their sleep and after they got up, Kieran went to the dining car and fetched their lunch, a tasty sandwich with fresh fruit and French fries.
They continued their conversation about his childhood and hers. He opened up about the fears and confusion during the time of his parents’ disappearance, the grieving that never seemed to come, and the effect it had had on him and his brothers. And she tried to comprehend how a boy so young could handle such a tragedy.
As the rural landscape sped by, Maddie curled up beside him on the wide seat, her feet tucked under her, her head resting against his shoulder. They’d found comfort in each other, a mutual understanding that made sense of their childhood troubles. Maddie couldn’t imagine another person in the world who could understand her like Kieran did.
The train pulled into Chicago just after three in the afternoon. They disembarked, then wandered around the old station for a few hours, waiting to board the line that would take them to Cincinnati. From there, it was still another hundred miles to her grandparents’ farm, but she wasn’t worried. Kieran would find a way to get them where they needed to go.
“I don’t want this to end,” Maddie said, as they settled themselves into a new cabin for the nine-hour ride.
“Maybe we should just keep going. Where does this train stop?”
“Washington, D.C.,” he said. “And then I think it goes on to New York.”
“Oh, let’s keep going,” Maddie said. “I’d love to go to New York. We’d have so much fun.”
“I thought you wanted to see your grandparents,” he said.
Maddie nodded. “I do. But we can do that later. We only have six weeks before you have to go home. I want to do everything and see everything.”
He pulled her down beside him in the seat, settling her on his lap. “We can’t keep spending money like this. You’re going to have to stop running and face your mother.”
“But I’ve saved for this,” she said. “Why can’t I just go where I want? It’s my life now. And my money.”
“I need to find work,” he said. “I can’t keep sponging off of you.”
“You’re working for me,” Maddie said. “You’re like my bodyguard and tour manager and traveling companion all in one. I can pay you.” She drew a deep breath. “All right, let’s just get this whole money thing out of the way.”
“Money thing?”
“Yes. You always come back to it and I want to put it all out on the table. How much do you need to make? Now, think carefully