Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

Copyright

“Do that again.”

He put his hand on the back of her neck and tilted her head back so he could see her better. He found her hat pin, pulled it out and lifted the hat from her head, then pitched it onto the chair with his.

She knew she should struggle and protest So why didn’t she? Kissing Mr. Hart would be dull and tedious. Totally forgettable. Wouldn’t it? Her loosened hair seemed to be flying everywhere. “Do what again?”

“Stick out your bottom lip. Pout.”

“I don’t under—”

“Just do it.”

With a gulp and a deep breath, Trina stuck out her bottom lip.

Gabriel sucked that pouty lip into his mouth and felt her shudder from the crown of her head to, he suspected, her dainty little toes. If she was going to slap his face and report his behavior to Papa, she’d do it now…

Dear Reader,

March is the time of spring, of growth, and the budding of things to come. Like these four never-before-published authors that we selected for our annual March Madness Promotion. These fresh new voices in historical romance are bound to be tomorrow’s stars!

Among this year’s choices for the month is The Maiden and the Warrior by Jacqueline Navin, a heartrending medieval tale about a fierce warrior who is saved from the demons that haunt him when he marries the widow of the man who sold him into slavery. Goodness also prevails in Gabriel’s Heart by Madeline George. In this flirty Western, an ex-sheriff uses a feisty socialite to exact revenge, but ends up falling in love with her first!

Last Chance Bride by Jillian Hart is a touching portrayal of a lonely spinster-turned-mail-order-bride who shows an embittered widower the true meaning of love on the rugged Montana frontier. And don’t miss A Duke Deceived by Cheryl Bolen, a Regency story about a handsome duke whose hasty marriage to a penniless noblewoman is tested by her secret deeds.

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historical.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell, Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A SX3

Gabriel’s Heart
Madeline George

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MADELINE GEORGE,

a country girl through and through, is a native Texan who found her Texas drawl a perfect basis for writing Western historical romance. A former elementary school teacher, she now loves the freedom of traveling with her husband—and writing partner—in their travel trailer, doing research for new books.

If you’d like to receive her newsletter, Madeline’s Heart, and notices of upcoming releases, the author would appreciate hearing from you. Please write to her: Madeline George, P.O. Box 543, Rising Star, Texas 76471.

This book is dedicated to my husband, Chuck, forever and always my dearest love.

Prologue

August 1881

Gabriel Hart spied the cabin when he crested the hill. No sign of Hannah anywhere. He frowned. She usually heard him coming and hurried to meet him.

He grinned. Napping. Had to be it. Now that they were expecting a baby in a few months, she had to rest more often.

When he passed the well and saw the bucket spilled, the dipper in the dust, Gabriel’s gut tightened and his blood raced. Something wasn’t right The house and yard were too quiet. Too empty.

He stepped down from his horse, let the reins drop and reached for the Colt on his hip—but he’d waited too long.

A flash. Thunder in the still afternoon.

The first bullet tore a ragged hole in his right wrist Pain jolted through his gun hand.

Another flash. More thunder.

The second bullet gouged into his side and lodged beneath his left lung. Fire spread through his chest like a bolt of lightning, taking his breath away.

Gabriel dropped to his knees and glared at the man who’d just shot him. Otis Blackburn. The bastard was holding Hannah the same way he’d hold a rag doll.

“Gabriel…”

Her bruised face, and her clothes, torn and bloody, told him what had happened.

“Hannah!”

A knife. Sunlight flashed off the blade as it ripped her throat. Her scream slashed through Gabriel like a dagger. Blood soaked into her dress, draining her life away.

Hatred gave Gabriel the strength to stand. If only he’d gotten home a little sooner. Five minutes earlier, and this snake of a man, this waste of skin he thought he’d put away forever, would be bleeding out his life in place of the woman who made Gabriel’s life complete. The woman who carried his child.

Hannah’s brown eyes glazed over and her bruised, bleeding lips mouthed Gabriel’s name as she sank to the ground at his feet.

Otis Blackburn laughed while Hannah died.

The hammer clicked back. “I won’t kill you, Hart. I want you to live at least ten more years. I want you to know what it’s like to be in prison all those days and nights. In prison in your own body.” He took aim at Gabriel’s right knee.

With his last strength Gabriel lunged at the filthy murderer and drove his head into Blackburn’s gut. The gun fired into thin air. Gabriel pounded his good fist into Blackburn’s face and gouged at his eyes until he felt blood trickle between his fingers.

Blackburn smashed the butt of his gun into Gabriel’s temple.

Gabriel sank into the dust, pain burning through him.

“Adiós, lawman.” Blackburn mounted and rode off toward the ridge.

Gabriel dragged himself forward until he could touch Hannah’s limp hand. Already cold. He balled his left hand into a fist and raised it to the vanishing image of the killer.

“Someday, Blackburn, I’ll find you. You’ll die. So help me, God. You’ll beg to die.”

Chapter One

October 1882

“Geoffrey, I have to get to the depot. The train won’t wait for us if we’re late.”

“But, Katrina, I have something really important to tell you. To give you, actually.”

Trina McCabe thrust one of her brown leather traveling bags at Geoffrey Monroe in an attempt to budge him from the spot in the hall outside her bedroom door. He’d arrived at the ranch half an hour ago, but she hadn’t spoken to him until just now. She wasn’t ready to talk to Geoffrey yet. She knew the thing he had to show her was an engagement ring, but she wasn’t ready to address that subject To be truthful, she didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to discuss it. So she’d made him wait, hoping he’d get the idea she was too busy to talk today. But it hadn’t worked. Couldn’t he take a hint just once?

In the looking glass above her chiffonier, her cheeks seemed a trifle pale. She touched the tips of two fingers to her tongue, then scrubbed at one of the pink roses on the wallpaper. With a few practiced strokes she transferred the pink dye to her cheeks. Satisfied, she straightened her blue feathered hat.

“Please listen, Katrina. Aren’t you curious to see what I brought you?” Geoffrey shined the toe of one boot on the back of his freshly pressed nankeen trousers, then straightened his vest nervously. “Can’t you stand still?”

“No, I can’t. Papa will be calling any minute now that it’s time to—”

Amos McCabe bellowed from downstairs. “Trina! We’re leaving right now. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, Papa!” Trina called back. “Now, Geoffrey, there’ll be worlds of time to talk once I’m back from Silver Falls. Come for supper then. I promise I’ll listen to every word you say.” Every dull and tedious word, she wanted to add, but Geoffrey was, after all, her beau. Wasn’t he?

Geoffrey grabbed her bag and reached for the valise, but Trina beat him to it. For some reason, demonstrating her independence seemed terribly important Geoffrey clutched the bag as though it contained silver or gold.

“You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things, Katrina.” Geoffrey grabbed the valise from her hand. “I’ll carry this, too. Maybe I ought to go with you to Silver Falls.”

“Nonsense!” She said it too emphatically and knew it She gave him her sweetest smile as placation to turn his protests into thin air, as always, and scanned the room to see if she’d left anything essential. The valise had been heavier than she’d thought, so she decided not to argue with Geoffrey and let him carry it, too. Traveling without a trunk was terribly inconvenient She usually packed three trunks for a trip this long. But there would be no one she knew in Silver Falls. Praise the Lord for that.

Her father’s voice boomed again from downstairs.

“Trina! We’re going without you if you aren’t down here by the time I count to five!”

“Papa’s going to have apoplexy. Come on!” Trina hurried down the stairs with Geoffrey close behind, lugging the baggage. She needed a couple of days to herself, without Geoffrey six inches away, panting around her like a lonesome puppy.

And she had to look after her father. Something wasn’t right about this business trip. He’d protested her coming in such a way she’d been genuinely alarmed at the idea of him going to Silver Falls at all, much less alone. Then there were those dreadful men who’d come to the house last week. Well, there was simply no way she’d allow him to go without her.

Geoffrey practically stepped on her skirts all the way down the stairs, and even bumped her behind with the baggage a couple of times. If Trina didn’t get away soon, she’d pitch the biggest fit any of them had ever seen!

Outside, Amos McCabe waited in the carriage, along with Trina’s oldest brother, Tom, who was going to drive them to the depot in Denver. The icy air hinted at snow, while the wind felt like icicles against her bare skin.

“There you are at last Geoffrey, we’ll see you when we get back. I’ll wire Tom from Silver Falls when my business is complete. He’ll let you know when to expect us in Denver.” He took a look at Trina. “What kind of a dress is that to be wearing on a train? Shouldn’t you be wearing wool in the winter—and a dark color? Bright blue in the wintertime—”

“But this is wool, Papa. It’s a new kind of wool, as warm as the heavy kind. It came in last week. I ordered it last spring, don’t you remember?” Of course he didn’t remember. If she reminded him of the cost, he would no doubt remember that “I couldn’t wait another minute to wear it.”

“It’ll be covered in soot and cinders five minutes after we get to town. And that ridiculous hat, with feathers and flowers. It looks like you’re wearing a flowerpot”

“That’s exactly what it’s called, Papa. A flowerpot hat.”

Amos snorted his opinion. “There’s no time for you to change. I hope you brought something sensible to wear once we get to Silver Falls.”

“Yes, Papa, I did. Don’t worry.”

Tom shook his head at her, then cast a look of disgust at Geoffrey. “I’ll send word. Let’s go.” Tom helped Trina into the seat, handed her a lap blanket, then climbed in after her. Before Geoffrey could add anything, Tom slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and the carriage lurched forward with a squeal.

“I’ll see you when you get back, Katrina!” Geoffrey ran along beside the carriage for a dozen yards or so, puffing great billows of steamy breath, before stopping to wave.

Trina waved halfheartedly. For a month of Sundays Geoffrey had been talking about buying her an engagement ring, begging her to say she’d accept one. When she’d put him off the fourth time, he’d gone ahead and picked it out. Red and green stones set in gold filigree.

Mr. Filby at the general store had told everyone in town about it, figuring their engagement was a sure thing. Only two hours after the stage had come through and left the box at Mr. Filby’s store, Trina had heard from Alissa who had heard from Fanny who had heard from Sarah that the ring had arrived. Practically everyone in town had seen the ring since then. Except Trina. She sighed. A ring was exactly what she’d been wanting him to give her, wasn’t it? An expensive, gaudy ring that would catch everyone’s eye? Once she’d accepted it, they’d be officially engaged and a date could be set for the wedding.

Weddings were so much fun. There would be parties given in her honor and so many gifts they wouldn’t have room for them all. And all three of her brothers would have to be fitted for new suits and she’d get to see them all dressed fit to kill at the same time. So why had she stubbornly refused to give poor, pitiful Geoffrey an answer?

Trina stuck out her lower lip and pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. She knew now that a ring wasn’t what she wanted at all. The problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted instead. Geoffrey was nice enough, and his father did own a prosperous haberdashery in Denver. If she and Geoffrey were married, she’d have all the beautiful clothes she could wear. But clothes weren’t everything. Just what was everything, she couldn’t say. She just knew Geoffrey wasn’t it She’d never intended to lead Geoffrey on or give him false hopes about their being married someday. How on earth had it come this far?

Amos nudged his daughter’s elbow. “Trina?”

“Yes, Papa?”

“What was Geoffrey all riled up about?”

“He wants to give me an engagement ring.”

Amos hesitated. “Are you going to accept it?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll know when we get back home.” He had enough on his mind. She could tell him after they got back that she’d thought about it and decided marrying Geoffrey simply would not make her happy.

Amos patted her arm. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Let’s forget all about Geoffrey and the ranch while we’re on this trip, all right? I think we both need a diversion.”

“Agreed. I only hope you won’t be bored.”

“Why, Papa, of course I won’t be bored. After all, I’m with my favorite fellow, aren’t I?”

It was the truth. Trina suspected it would continue to be the truth, whoever she married. She sighed and stared at a piñon pine up ahead. If only the prospect of marriage could be more exciting. It seemed to be the only thing she knew of that could leave her completely bored. She gathered the blanket closer around her chin. The wind was absolutely wicked.

Amos dug in his pocket, then handed a derringer to Trina.

“Put this in your pocket. You never know who you might meet on the train or in Silver Falls.”

“But Papa, I’ve never fired a gun in my life.”

“It isn’t that hard. You probably won’t need it, but it can’t hurt to have it, just in case.”

“In case—”

“Just take it without a big argument, for once in your life.”

Stung by the reproach, she stared at the derringer for a moment, then pushed it deep into her pocket. A worrisome little thought skittered through her mind. She recalled the day those dirty men had come to the house. They’d left angry. Just afterward, her father had announced the trip to the mining town.

“Papa, are you sure we ought to go to Silver Falls? Maybe we should—”

“What? But you said—”

“I know. I’m not talking about that.”

“Then what? I don’t—”

“I’m thinking about those men who came to the house last week. They sounded angry. It worries me.”

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“But what if they—”

“Enough! This is business and doesn’t concern you. Settle down and enjoy the trip.”

“But Papa—”

“Katrina…hush!”

She hushed. But she didn’t like it one bit.

Gabriel heard the train whistle when it rounded the last bend, just west of the Denver depot, where he’d been waiting for the past hour.

Through a flurry of feathery snowflakes mixed with cinders, and soot belching from the smokestack, the locomotive chuffed its way into the depot like an iron monster, creaking slowly to a stop. People waiting to board the train stepped back to avoid the expulsion of steam from the engine, then inched forward while arriving passengers poured from the cars.

Gabriel got up from the hard wooden bench and stretched his back muscles, then rubbed at a spot on his rib cage. Better than fourteen months since he’d been shot and it still ached. He knew it wouldn’t stop completely until he killed Otis Blackburn.

Passengers gathered their baggage. A line formed, heading out the door. Just ahead, a woman wearing a silly-looking hat with blue feathers and flowers turned her head to allow a young man to kiss her cheek. Gabriel inched past. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

She nodded and stepped back an inch or two to let him pass. He went outside to the platform.

Trina watched him go, leaning over a bit to get a better look.

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Remember Geoffrey?”

Trina smiled sweetly. “How could I ever forget Geoffrey? Goodbye, Tom. I wish you’d change your mind and come with us.” The last thing she wanted on this trip was a fussy older brother hanging around, but she had to be polite.

“Can’t. Too much to do at home. I’ll see you when you get back.”

She leaned toward the door to see if she could spot that man again, but he was already out of sight. So handsome. Could he possibly be going to Silver Falls? On the same train? For a moment Geoffrey’s face flashed through her mind and she felt a twinge of guilt for admiring another man. But she’d decided their engagement wasn’t going to happen. That meant she was single and unattached—and free to admire handsome men when they happened along. She smiled, pleased with her decision.

She saw her father’s puzzled look but ignored it, as usual. He shook his head, then went out to the platform, leaving her to catch up on her own. She took her time, trying to think of some reason to speak to the handsome stranger. She could pretend to recognize him from a social function in Denver. That usually worked quite well. He would tell her his name and perhaps even be interested in a conversation sometime during their journey.

“Trina! Are you coming?”

“Yes, Papa, I’m coming.” Mercy. It was so bothersome to rush.

Outside, the conductor came to the railing of the first car, squinted when the wind stung his eyes, then cupped one hand around his mouth and shouted, “Silver Falls! Board! All aboard!”

Gabriel paused to allow several ladies and a couple of children, flushed with the cold and chattering like a flock of magpies, to enter in front of him. He dug into his pockets for his gloves and pulled them on. Their rabbit-fur lining eased the sting of the wind. His fingers tingled with warmth. The handrail, colder than the air and rough with rust and flaking paint, wasn’t touchable in winter. Likely as not, a bare hand on that rail would leave skin behind.

The acrid stench of coal smoke and fumes stung his nostrils and left a bad taste in his mouth. After one last look around, he went inside the car, surveying the group of milling, babbling passengers. Pushing his way past a gentleman with a bristly mustache and a rotund belly, he slid into the third seat on the right, all the way over next to the window. To kill time, he stared out into the rail yard.

Cattle milled about in a nearby pen, awaiting transfer to the slaughterhouses in Chicago. The stink of them invaded everything, but Gabriel hardly noticed. There’d been a time when that herd might have been his, but those days were long gone. Only one animal occupied Gabriel’s mind now—a two-legged, one-eyed animal he aimed to slaughter personally.

The grimy window glass barely allowed him to see outside the train. Soot coated everything. The sun, had it been able to burn through the cloud cover, could not have penetrated to the gloomy interior of the passenger car. But that hadn’t dimmed the enthusiasm of the ladies and children finally getting settled in their seats.

Gabriel had waited a long time to board this train. He’d ground his teeth in expectation of catching the man who’d laughed when he slaughtered Hannah. Blackburn wouldn’t laugh when Gabriel caught up to him in Silver Falls. No, that would be the last thing he’d do.

“Ticket, mister?”

The conductor bumped his shoulder, then held out his hand.

Gabriel handed over the ticket, waited for the pale writing to be scrutinized, then took it back and stowed it in his inside coat pocket. The conductor moved on down the car, asking to see tickets as he went. Gabriel watched him for a moment, then stared out the window again, impatient to leave the station. Silver Falls was just about a day from Denver. Now that the winter snows had started collecting in the passes, keeping the tracks cleared had become a constant battle and made train schedules a joke. They’d be there when they got there, snow and slides permitting.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Gabriel heard the woman’s voice, but didn’t think she was talking to him. She tapped his arm.

“Sir?”

He stared at her for a minute before answering. The lady with blue feathers. Dressed in such finery, she had to be rich. Blue dress to match the feathers. Fancy toilet water. And, he’d guess, miles of that thick, red hair cascading down her back from under that boxy hat. The young man who’d kissed her cheek didn’t seem to be with her.

“Ma’am? How may I be of assistance?”

Old habits died slowly. Service had been his job—his life—for too many years. Years after ranching. Years after facing every upstart in the state of Texas eager to try his luck at beating the fastest gun in the territory. Or so they’d thought.

“I know we’ve met before. Aren’t you—”

“No, ma’am. We haven’t. And I’m not.”

“I see. Well. I must be mistaken.”

“Trina! Over here!” The man with the brushy mustache motioned for her to join him, then held up his hand in greeting. “Sheriff Hart? Good to see you again.”

Gabriel nodded.

Trina smiled. Sheriff Hart. Her mind whirled with the possibilities of this revelation. She went to the seat where her father had already made himself comfortable, pulled a hankie from her sleeve and dusted the seat before perching on the edge.

“Let’s go back to the Pullman, Papa.”

“Not yet, Trina. I have some business to tend to.”

Well, that was that. She’d have to wait to question her father about the handsome Sheriff Hart.

Gabriel recognized Senator Amos McCabe after a bit of thought. The redhead must be his daughter. And the young man in the depot…His son-in-law?

Gabriel’s brow wrinkled. He’d never met her before today. He would have remembered. He settled into the seat, squirmed until he’d attained the best possible position for dozing, and pulled his hat down to his eyebrows to catch a snooze. It was a long way to Silver Falls. He intended to be fresh when they arrived tomorrow afternoon. Later, he’d go on back to the Pullman. Now, though, he had to be alert and observant, in case one of Blackburn’s men was on board, heading for a rendezvous with his miserable boss. A pain in his back prompted another adjustment in his position. He’d pretend to take a nap and study each man in the car. Memorizing a face now could mean the difference between being dead and alive in Silver Falls.

Trina was also squirming. There wasn’t a way to get comfortable in these hard contraptions they called seats. She glanced around to see if everyone else was having the same trouble. Of course, she wasn’t actually interested in everyone. Just a certain man her father called Sheriff Hart.

Trina couldn’t decide how to continue her conversation with this sheriff. She listened surreptitiously to her father’s conversation. Boring. Glancing back at the sheriff, she fanned her face with one hand, warding off some of the cinders floating around, feeling warmer just from thinking about speaking to him again. She’d have to come up with an excuse, though.

The train pulled out of the station, throwing her off balance. She struggled against the jerking motions of the lumbering locomotive, watching Sheriff Hart shifting position in the rigid seat, trying to get more comfortable. Didn’t he know it would be impossible to sleep in all this confusion? He’d likely choke to death and never wake up again if the air didn’t clear up soon.

She pulled the lace-edged hankie from her sleeve again and covered her mouth and nose with the side she hadn’t used to dust the seat, filtering some of the smoke and cinders clogging the air, but it was no use. By the time they reached Silver Falls, she’d have succumbed to asphyxiation, too.

If the atmosphere didn’t improve soon, she’d have to retreat to her quarters in the Pullman car, with or without her father. He was still talking to someone about that business matter he’d mentioned. Her first thought had been to suggest he invite the man to their quarters, but, after taking a good look at the man—dirty face, dirty clothes, bad teeth, something in one of his eyes making him blink constantly—she thought perhaps her father was right to speak with him here. Whew! The stench of cattle penned up too long permeated the air. She fanned her face and let her eyes wander across the car.

Sheriff Hart’s eyelashes had to be as long as hers. His beard, dark brown, had been neatly trimmed, probably with sharp scissors. And his mustache didn’t curve over his top lip into his mouth, like some she’d seen. His neatly trimmed beard and mustache said something about the man. And his hair didn’t seem to be matted and dirty, the way some men seemed content to tolerate theirs. His thick hair had a bit of curl to it and lay nicely on his collar, just the right length in back. She wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, slowly and carefully, massaging his scalp as she went…

Her father coughed and nudged her with his elbow. “Trina, hand me that bag.”

She fetched the heavy leather case for her father and noted again how he wheezed when he talked. He was too heavy, that’s all there was to it She’d been trying to get him to cut down on fat meats and gravy for the longest time, but he stubbornly refused. The bigger he’d gotten, the more trouble he’d had breathing. This thin mountain air didn’t help one bit. When they got to Silver Falls, where it was much higher still, what would he do then? She didn’t want to think about it, but she had to. If something happened, she would be the one responsible for finding help. Tom should have come with them, but he’d stubbornly refused. Her father wouldn’t hear of it, anyway. Too much work to be done at the ranch—as always. Never a slack minute.

Trina coughed. Her nose stung and her eyes watered fiercely. Something had to be done about the air or they’d all perish.

“Conductor! Conductor!” She fanned her face with her hankie until he got there. “We simply must open some windows. The air—”

“Winders! Are you out of your mind?”

“I most certainly am not. I’m deeply concerned—”

“But, ma’am, it’s cold outside. If we open them winders, you’re likely to freeze solid before we reach the first pass.” His wrinkled face twisted into an expression of sheer disgust.

“It’s stuffy and smoky in here. I can hardly breathe.”

“Well, then, I ‘spect you’d better stick your nose outside that door and cool off a mite. I ain’t openin’ them winders. Not for you or anybody on this train.”

“Well, I never…!”

The conductor stuck his nose in the air and stalked off down the car.

Gabriel grinned at the exchange. The wind and a swirl of snow from the door when the conductor left sent a shiver through him. It was just like a woman to want to open a window in winter on a train going thirty miles an hour. Gabriel studied the feisty Miss McCabe for a moment. And feisty she was. Now she was railing at “Papa” to do something about the stuffiness. Spoiled. Pampered. Nothing but a beautiful child.

The senator finally interrupted her tirade. “Go stand on the landing, Trina, if you’re that all-fired hot. I have business to tend to before we get to Silver Falls. I can’t get it done with you caterwauling about how thick the air is.”

Gabriel almost laughed out loud when Trina’s bottom lip stuck out. Pouting. Poor little rich girl. She spied him watching her. He should have looked away, but didn’t.

Trina squared her shoulders, tucked in her bottom lip and glared at him. Then she stood, whirled around and headed for the far end of the car. She pulled the heavy door open, then held it there, standing behind it out of the wind, until everyone in the car hooted and hollered and the car filled with snow and cinders. Then she slammed the door, went back to her seat and perched there, stiff as a tree trunk.

Gabriel kept right on grinning. Her cheeks flamed with anger and she deliberately looked away. Gabriel knew how mad she was, but couldn’t help being amused by it all. He’d enjoyed her little display, even though it had chilled him to the bone. She had spunk, a man had to give her that. In fact, there were a lot of things a man would like to give her.

The thought disturbed him. During the fourteen months he’d spent healing and getting his strength back, he’d never even looked at a woman. The pain from losing Hannah to that scum had blacked out any thought other than stringing the son of a bitch up by his tenderest parts, and torturing him until he screamed in agony, the way Hannah had screamed. The memory made him shiver, but not from cold.

Now here he was, swapping howdies across the room with a spoiled senator’s daughter. Gabriel decided a walk might not be a bad idea. He knew every face now. Sitting in this contraption they called a seat had made him stiff, even though he shouldn’t be having such pains. He wasn’t that old. Twenty-nine. Or was it thirty? He’d missed one birthday, delirious with fever and pain, thanks to that sorry bastard Blackburn.

She was still glaring at him from time to time. Well, he’d just have to apologize. But not too much. Gabriel smiled and tipped his hat at the poker-faced lady when he strode past, then stepped out on the platform between the passenger and Pullman cars, careful to close the door securely behind him. That ought to get her fired up, for sure.

He shuddered in the frigid wind, then took a deep draft of mountain air. Damn, but it smelled good. Nothing like it in all the world. The fragrances of ponderosa and limber pines, aspens, maples and spruce mingled with the frosty aroma of fresh snow. How snow could have a smell, Gabriel didn’t know, but it did. A clean smell. New. Unblemished. It covered the ugliness with unmatched beauty. Only when people walked through it and muddied it up did it lose its virgin whiteness and turn to slush and slop in the roadways. Signs of progress.

Cities had come to smell like pigsties, with all the newfangled machinery and trains belching smoke all over the place. He preferred clean mountain air anytime. And snow without boot prints.

Gabriel took a long, slow breath and drank in the spectacle around him. Mountains held their heads up fourteen thousand feet overlooking valleys, broad and fertile, and lofty bluffs exposing layers of sandstone in a dozen colors. Magnificent Gabriel had come to love this country during his search for justice and revenge, yet he still longed for Texas—and home. Someday, after Blackburn was dead and left to rot, Gabriel would go home.

The door bumped open behind him. Gabriel knew without looking who it would be. Only, she didn’t seem to be riled.

“Mr. Hart, I believe? My father told me about you. I am Katrina McCabe.”

So, she wasn’t married after all. Gabriel amended his previous assumption. Future son-in-law, perhaps?

“What can I do for you, Miss McCabe?”

Gabriel looked sideways at her. She’d already begun to shiver hard. He wondered how long she’d last before having to run back inside the car, stuffy or otherwise. The cape she wore would be fine if she weren’t out in the wind. Out here, she needed a heavy coat.

He supposed he should get her out of the cold, but somehow he also figured she wouldn’t want to talk in the same car with her father. This lady had something stuck in her craw, but he didn’t really want to know what it was. He had enough to think about for one train ride. Her cheeks flushed red with the cold, matching the color of her pouty lips.

“I’m c-con-concerned about something. I h-hoped you might be able to h-help.” Trina clutched the cape tighter around her but it did nothing to stop the bite of the wind. She might turn to a pillar of ice right where she stood.

Gabriel wanted to curse out loud. His only concern was his own business. Damn, but this woman was getting to be a bother, in less time than it took to take a decent nap.

“I was about to inspect my quarters in the Pullman, Miss McCabe. You might want to check on yours, also.”

“A splen-splendid idea, Mr. Hart.”

Gabriel helped her across the walkway and onto the next platform, then held the heavy door open against the wind while she hurried into the Pullman car opposite. He stepped inside after her and pulled the door closed behind him with a loud clang.

Their breaths puffed steamy in the cold air of the Pullman. Baseboard heaters, warming the compartments with heat from the locomotive’s furnace, didn’t warm the corridors very much. It took her a while to stop shivering.

Gabriel thought about offering her his fleece-lined coat, then changed his mind. No use being cold just because some flighty female decided to take a walk. She’d warm up if she stayed inside.

“Feelin’ better, ma’am?”

Trina patted her cheeks, swept the snow and cinders from her skirt, straightened her pleats and tried to assume a dignified air before answering his question. “Somewhat better, Mr. Hart. Thank you kindly.”

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” He hoped it was worth hearing. He could see that her mind was conjuring up something. In spite of it all, he was curious to see what she wanted.

“I’m concerned about my father’s welfare on this journey. I…uh…I think he may be in some danger.”

“I see. What makes you think so?” Best let her talk until she ran down. That is, if it didn’t take too long.

The outside door, caught by the wind, slammed open, and two men came into the Pullman. They managed to push the door closed, then “beg-pardoned” their way between Gabriel and Trina. They departed the car at the far end.

Trina watched every step they took, then looked up and down the corridor before she spoke, in whispers this time. The delay had given her time to concoct her story. “Have you noticed the men on this train?” Her eyes widened.

Gabriel swallowed hard. Brown. Her eyes were brown. Just like Hannah’s. The knot in his gut tightened. “Which ones, ma’am?”

“Those men in the front car. Sitting just behind my father. The men who just came through here. I think—” she checked the corridor again “—I think they want to harm him.”

Gabriel burst out laughing. Just like a stupid little kid, playing cowpokes and Indians. Worse than that, he was standing here listening to this nonsense.

“Mr. Hart! I assure you—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I guess you caught me off guard, that’s all.” He sobered his face. “Why do you think they want to hurt your father?”

She whispered again. Gabriel had to lean forward, just inches from her nose, to hear what she said. A shooting pain across his ribs made him want to curse out loud. Damn that Blackburn!

“Because of the land,” she whispered, her eyes getting rounder by the minute.

“The land?” He whispered, too, and felt plumb foolish doing it. “Which land?”

“The land in Silver Falls. The land that’s being given to the state of Colorado.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, ma’am.”

She gave him a look of sheer impatience, then leaned back and practically shouted, “They don’t want the state to have it. I should think that would be perfectly clear. I overheard their arguments with my father at home last week. They aren’t happy, believe me.”

Gabriel winced with the abrupt change in volume. This little conversation had already gone on longer than he’d intended.

“I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, Miss McCabe. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check my sleeping quarters.” He tipped his hat to her and went on down the corridor, leaving her fuming behind him.

“Well, I never…!”

Gabriel didn’t doubt she’d “never.” He sort of suspected she’d enjoy it if she did, though. A stirring in his loins surprised and bothered him. Such feelings were best left alone until Blackburn was half-dead and left rotting on an anthill somewhere.

How long since he’d had such feelings? Too long. Fourteen months. He felt guilty. And empty inside. Best stay away from her. Especially if the young man really was her intended.

Gabriel wasn’t ready for activity of the sort Miss McCabe inspired. Killing Blackburn. Now, that would be an activity he’d enjoy.

Chapter Two

While Trina continued to fume, muttering to herself under her breath, standing with her back to him by the grimy window in the forward door, Gabriel retreated into his compartment He shook his head, latched the door and stretched his back again. Damn, but this cold weather was enough to crack bones.

The compact compartment had only one purpose—to provide a horizontal place to sleep when a train ride extended overnight. A narrow cot folded down from the wall. He stashed his leather case beneath it on the floor. One low chair squatted next to the door while its mate, opposite, sat next to the outside window. The chair was just big enough to hold his hat. The only door not opening on to the corridor led to the water closet, which was so cramped Gabriel figured he’d have to leave the door open to wash his face—or bump his butt when he leaned over the sink.

With its shades of tan and pale green, the whole room exuded drabness. The worn places on the green chairs showed through tan, and the scratches in the tan paint, oddly enough, revealed a coat of green beneath.

The solitary window—after he’d wiped away some of the soot—provided all the color a man needed, though. Only one was missing—the deep, dark red of Blackburn’s blood. Gabriel would add it to the blues and greens of the landscape just as soon as the train got to Silver Falls.

Men’s voices from the other end of the car, loud and angry, cut through the steady rumble of the wheels on the tracks. Garbled. Nothing clear. None of his business.

A few seconds later the door to his compartment swung open and Trina McCabe rushed inside, closed the door carefully and squatted down, hiding.

Gabriel leaned down and whispered directly into her ear.

“May I help you, Miss McCabe?”

Trina jumped up and her cheeks burned as crimson as pokers. She obviously hadn’t realized she’d chosen his compartment to hide in. He couldn’t resist goading her. “Did you drop something, ma’am?”

“Quiet! They’ll hear you!” If this didn’t get his attention, nothing would! She’d pulled a lot of foolish stunts in the past to get a man to notice her, but this one had to be the prize.

“Who?”

“Listen!”

Gabriel thought about escorting her back into the corridor, but the voices got louder. Two men stopped just outside.

“He’s got to be stopped, and you know it!”

“But he’s a senator! Do you know what you’re saying? We can’t—”

“There’s got to be a way. We can’t let him—”

“Quiet!”

Gabriel stood perfectly still. Trina hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Did you hear someone coming?” one of the men said, quieter this time.

“Naw. They’re all up front, which is where I’m headed right now. You comin’ or not?”

“I’m comin’, but I’m tellin’ you right now that I ain’t gonna be a party to no killin’.”

Trina drew in a sharp breath and Gabriel saw her start to turn around, her mouth opening to speak. To keep her from giving them away, which didn’t seem like a very good idea right now, Gabriel mashed her back against the wall and clamped one hand over her mouth.

Trina struggled, then realized she was making too much noise. She settled down, nodded acquiescence, and Gabriel let her go, but didn’t move away.

The voices faded as the men went on down the corridor. Then the forward door opened and closed and Gabriel stepped back.

Trina tried to catch her breath. What those men had said—coupled with being so close to a man’s chest she could have counted the hairs if she’d been so inclined—left her breathless. She thought she’d exaggerated the story about her father being in danger.

“Now do you believe me?”

“Ma’am, I don’t rightly know what to believe. But I will say you seem to be right about your father’s well-being on this trip.” Her toilet water made his head swim a little. Before long, the whole room would be filled with it.

Trina took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For believing me.”

Gabriel smiled. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but it wasn’t you I believed. It was those two men, talkin’ about your father and about killin’ somebody in the same breath.”

Her face turned red again and she started to say something, but whirled around instead, stamping on Gabriel’s toe.

Swallowing an oath, Gabriel decided to let it go. “Is somethin’ else wrong, Miss McCabe?”

She turned slowly and glared at him. “Wrong? Other than several men on this train wanting to kill my father, what else could possibly be wrong?”

“Not anything I can think of, ma’am. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to wash up a bit.” He nodded toward the door.

She didn’t budge. “I’d like to know what you intend to do about protecting my father. After all, you are a sheriff.”

Gabriel started to say just what he was thinking—that he couldn’t care less about her father—but his background as a peace officer prevented him. “Exsheriff. It depends, Miss McCabe, on whether or not an attempt is made to harm your father while he’s on this train. Should I be present if that happens, I will, by all means, do my best to see that he isn’t harmed, even though I am no longer an officer of the law. Now, if you’ll excuse me…?”

He leaned past her, opened the door and waited until she left, nose in the air. Gabriel watched her all the way to the end of the corridor. Her skirts swished back and forth across the dusty floor.

Damn fool woman. It was enough to make a decent man want to throw himself off a train. Or into her compartment come nightfall.

Gabriel rubbed his chin, shook his head, then looked at his watch. Ten forty-five in the morning. It had already been a long day.

Outside the car, a man yelled something Gabriel couldn’t decipher. Trina screamed.

Gabriel ran into the corridor. Trina stood at the end of the car, gaping in horror at something outside on the landing.

“Papa! Oh, dear God…!” she muttered.

Gabriel pushed past her and jerked the door open. He scanned quickly back and forth before stepping onto the snowy platform next to Senator McCabe. The passenger car door opposite slammed back and two men came outside.

“What happened? We heard a man yell, then somethin’ that sounded like a wildcat!”

Gabriel looked carefully at their faces. One appeared to be stunned, but the other watched Gabriel warily. A twitch winked one eye.

“I didn’t see anything.” Gabriel held on to the rail and leaned out into the wind, trying to see down the track behind them. It wouldn’t have surprised him to spot a body dragging from the undercarriage, but there was no sign of anyone, dragging or otherwise.

Trina came out of the Pullman, grimacing and holding her handkerchief over her nose, her eyes red and moist. She began to shiver immediately.

“Papa? Are you all right?”

He didn’t answer right away, just stared at Trina as though trying to decide what to say or do next. Gabriel sensed the senator was hiding something.

“I’m fine, Trina. Get back inside before you catch your death.” He turned to Gabriel. “Hart, you were out here mighty fast. You must’ve seen something.”

“Sorry, Senator.” Senator McCabe ushered everyone except Gabriel back into the passenger car. Trina wasn’t happy, but she minded her father.

Gabriel went back into the Pullman. Something had happened out there and he didn’t like it. Trina had seen something, but she wasn’t telling anyone about it. He thought again about the two men talking outside his door. Maybe one of them had decided the other was about to break, or that he wasn’t going along with the plan, whatever that might have been. Maybe, just maybe, one of those men had met with an unfortunate accident and had “fallen” off the train. If that proved true, then someone else might have a similar “accident” before the train reached Silver Falls.

Gabriel watched Trina tiptoe sneaky-like out of the passenger car. It didn’t surprise him at all. She fought the wind, managed to get back into the Pullman and closed the door with Gabriel’s help. He thought she might shiver into pieces right there in front of him.

“Miss McCabe, it’s cold out there, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He reached into his compartment, fetched his coat, then slung it around her shoulders. When he pulled the front together, she stumbled up against him, surrounding them both with that intoxicating fragrance.

She looked up into his eyes, her bottom lip still quivering with cold, and Gabriel had the sudden urge to kiss her. He pushed her away instead, cursing under his breath at such a blame fool notion.

“You needn’t curse at me, Mr. Hart. I’m not the one who pushed that wretched man off the train.”

“How do you know what we heard was a man departing the train?” Gabriel went back into his quarters, leaving the door open, knowing she’d follow him inside either way.

“Not departing, Mr. Hart. Pushed. There’s quite a big difference.”

“And you saw him get pushed, did you?”

Trina hesitated. “Well…” She looked all around the small room, at the ceiling, at her shoes, everywhere except at Gabriel.

He turned to the window and watched the snowy trees marching steadily past. Now the lady was hiding something. She’d called her father’s name at the window. Who else had she seen on the platform? Why would she protect the person who’d pushed a man off the train unless…

Trina decided to lie. “No, I didn’t see that man pushed off the train. But it doesn’t take a scholar to know that’s exactly what happened.” She came over to the window where he stood and touched his arm. “If you could…”

Gabriel stiffened.

She removed her hand, embarrassed by his reaction, and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Hart, but I have every reason to believe that my father could be the next man thrown from this train. Are you going to wait until that happens before you do something? What sort of sheriff were you, anyway?”

Gabriel released a long sigh and wished the pounding in his temples would stop. “A good one. All right, Miss McCabe. I’ll see what I can find out. From your father.”

“My father! Certainly you aren’t going to alarm him—”

“If there’s someone on this train who wants to kill your father, then he sure as shootin’ has a reason for it. I’ve never seen the time yet where the object of another man’s hate wasn’t aware of that hate. Your father knows. He just hasn’t decided to tell me yet. If he wants my help, he’ll have to trust me with the truth.”

“What you say makes a good deal of sense, but I doubt you’re going to learn anything from my father. I assure you he’s as upright and honest a man as you’ll find in these days of scoundrels and renegades.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin to emphasize the words.

So, the lady didn’t want him to talk to her father. He thought he knew why. Her bottom lip stuck out just a fraction. The impulse to kiss that pouty lip swept through him again. Damn! What could he be thinking of? “All right, ma’am. Now, if you’ll excuse me…again…”

Trina handed his coat back to him, straightened her skirt and her ruffled shirtwaist blouse, sniffed once, then left, feathers bouncing.

Gabriel closed the door and wished like hell Senator McCabe and his bothersome daughter had chosen a different train to Silver Falls, or that whoever it was who had kissed Trina’s cheek at the depot had come along. Then her husband-to-be would be up to his eyebrows in this mess.

Everything in his gut told him he had no business messing around with the senator and his troubles. Exsheriff or not, Gabriel was a passenger on this train just like everyone else, and what he wanted most in the world right now was to be left alone with his thoughts of killing Otis Blackburn. That woman had a way of distracting him from the business at hand. If he played his cards right and stayed out of everyone’s way, maybe he could avoid any complications with the senator or the feisty Miss McCabe. In fact, he had a mind to…

Loud voices. An argument. Then a gunshot.

“Damn.” All his good intentions shot to hell.

Gabriel pulled out his Colt and checked the chamber. He eased over to the door, cracked it open just an inch and peered out.

A man lay crumpled on the floor not ten feet away. Standing over the body was none other than Senator McCabe himself, holding a smoking gun.

Chapter Three

Trina came out of the compartment across from Gabriel’s holding the derringer in front of her with both hands, like a dead rat she intended to throw into the garbage. When she saw her father, she dropped the gun and ran into his arms.

“Papa! You killed him!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She stared at the dead man in horror and shock.

Gabriel knelt beside the body and turned it over. One shot, straight through the heart. The senator hadn’t taken any chances. “Senator, maybe you’d better tell us what happened.”

Others arrived, from both ends of the train. In the midst of the confusion, Gabriel called for quiet.

“Senator?”

“He tried to kill me. But I didn’t shoot him. Wilson did. He was defending me, just as I hired him to do. I took his gun for protection while he followed this scalawag’s sidekick back to the passenger car.”

“I’m just grateful you weren’t injured, Papa.”

“How did he try to kill you, Senator?” Gabriel watched faces in the crowd while he waited for the answer. That twitch again, on a man returning from the passenger car. The bodyguard?

“He tried to push me off the train! I was coming back to find Trina and he was waiting for me between the cars.”

The story didn’t make sense. “How did the two of you get in here, then?”

Trina turned on him. “Mr. Hart, your tone would indicate that you don’t believe what my father just told you.”

“No offense, ma’am. I just—”

“Now, Trina, let the man do his job. Gabriel Hart is one of the finest sheriffs I’ve ever met. No offense taken, Mr. Hart. I managed to get away and ran inside the car. He followed me in. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t listen. He pulled a gun. Wilson, here, came in behind and shot him.”

“I see.” Gabriel looked around. “I think all you folks should get to wherever you’re going. There’s nothing else happening here.”

The crowd thinned out, leaving Gabriel, Trina and her father. Gabriel still didn’t know anything about the bodyguard or the other men who seemed to show up whenever the senator got into a ruckus, but he decided he ought to find out more about them.

“Now what, Sheriff?” Amos wheezed from exertion.

“First of all, I’m not a sheriff anymore. I’m a passenger, same as you. I just don’t want to see anyone else ‘fall’ off this train.”

Senator McCabe’s eyes darted from Gabriel to Trina as he nodded agreement. “Let’s get on to our quarters, Trina. You’ve had quite a scare. For the remainder of this journey, I suggest we spend the majority of our time under lock and key.”

Trina sighed and picked up the derringer from where she’d dropped it. McCabe took it from her and stowed it in his pocket.

“Thank you, Mr. Hart, for your help in convincing my father that he should be more careful.”

The senator frowned. “Trina, you didn’t—”

Gabriel cleared his throat noisily. No use in getting her in Dutch with her father. “Your daughter asked me earlier if I might be on the lookout for your welfare, Senator. She cares for you a great deal.”

“Yes, thank God, she does. I’ve been mother and father to her since she was born. Raised in a house with three older brothers, it’s a miracle she’s turned out to be the lady she is today.”

Flustered, Trina pulled at her father’s arm. “Papa, I should think Mr. Hart has better things to do than listen to our entire life history. Thank you again, Mr. Hart. We shall appreciate your protection for the remainder of our trip.”

She flashed her brown eyes at Gabriel, and he was amused to see her embarrassed to have been discovered in clandestine antics. Her cheeks blazed.

“I’ll be glad to help in any way I can, ma’am.” Now, why in tarnation had he said that? The last thing in the world he wanted was to protect the McCabe family. Damn!

The conductor arrived, huffing and puffing, excited with the news of a killing on his train, and solicited help in taking the body back to the baggage car behind the Pullman. Gabriel saw his chance to escape the scene, and volunteered.

Trina watched him go. She’d never met a man in her life she couldn’t stare down. Until now. A challenge, if ever she’d seen one.

“Now, Papa, you must rest. Let me help you.”

“Dammit, Trina, quit fussin’ over me like I was some doddering old fool! I’m perfectly capable of making it ten feet to my bed.”

Trina’s lower lip quivered. “I just…I’m sorry, Papa, but I…” She managed to squeeze out one tear.

“Now, Trina, darlin’, don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I appreciate your concern for me. I just don’t like bein’ pampered in public, that’s all.”

Trina sniffed and dabbed at her nose with her hankie. “I’m sorry, I forgot. You only like being pampered at home.” She hid a smile behind the hankie.

He gave her a look that silenced her—for the time being, anyway. “Now I’m gonna rest awhile. I suggest you do the same.”

“I shall. Thank you, Papa. Lock your door.”

“I will, I will. You’d think I was ninety years old and feebleminded, instead of being a representative of the great state of Colorado, and the father of this young whippersnapper.”

He locked the door behind him. Trina thought about going to her own compartment, then changed her mind. Something wasn’t right. She could tell by the cold gleam in the ex-sheriffs eyes that he knew something he wasn’t telling. She wanted to know what it was.

She tiptoed to the end of the car and tried to see through the windows of both the Pullman and the baggage car behind. The glare from the snow outside made it impossible. She’d have to make herself known if she were to discover what was happening where they were stowing away the dead body. A shiver reminded her she’d left her cape in her compartment She’d get it, then she’d try to ease into—

The door slammed open, pushing her back against the wall. Tarnation! She’d have to be more careful. Caught spying by the sheriff. Careless, that’s all there was to it. Careless.

“Miss McCabe, was there somethin’ else you needed?”

“Absolutely not, Mr. Hart. I was merely…” Her mind went blank—something that had never happened before. She’d always been able to conjure up believable stories to match whatever situation presented itself. Until now. That same amused expression, which had angered her clear to the bone before, perched on his face again. Why, he actually enjoyed seeing her squirm.

Instead of covering up what she’d been doing, she decided to turn the tables and make him do a little squirming instead. In control of the situation. That’s where she’d always been and where she intended to be now. “What, may I ask, is so amusing?”

Gabriel debated whether to tell her he knew exactly what she’d been doing at that window. If he did, though, she’d be spittin’ mad at him again. But then, if she stayed spittin’ mad, she might leave him alone for the rest of the trip. Just what he wanted. Or was it? He chose the middle path.

“Nothing is amusing, Miss McCabe. I’ve just boxed up a dead man who got shot even though he wasn’t carrying a firearm of any sort, and I’m late for a nap. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He shouldn’t have told her that little piece of news. He shook his head. Damn female. Making him act like somebody else.

“No gun? But my father said—”

“I know what your father said. He lied.”

“Lied! You take that back this instant! My father is not a liar!”

Now he’d done it. He’d have to smooth those fancy feathers again. “I didn’t mean to call your father a liar. I just said he lied. I assume he had good reason.”

That took all the fire out of her next attack. Just when Trina thought she’d taken control, he’d snatched it away again.

“But what possible reason could there be for him to lie about such a thing? Didn’t he know you’d check the body?”

“I’m sure he did.”

Voices again. Gabriel grabbed Trina’s arm, pulled her inside his compartment and closed the door.

“No noise this time, understand?”

“Of course I understand. Do you think I’m—”

He held up his hand in a silent threat to clamp her mouth shut if she didn’t do it on her own.

Trina’s first instinct was to slap his face, but she pressed her lips together instead, hating to admit he was right. They listened to the conversation in the hallway.

“Chet’s gone. Now Lurvy. Watch your back, partner. We could be next.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“He’s already dared twice. Let’s get into those trunks before someone else does.” They left without another word.

Trina turned around and drew a long, slow breath. Gabriel was right up against her, not two inches away.

“Those men—”

“Seem to think your father was responsible for pushing that first man off the train.” Which was exactly Gabriel’s conclusion, along with the suspicion that Trina had witnessed the deed.

“But that’s ridiculous.” His breath on her face made her slightly giddy. Along with his eyes, his dark brown, beautiful eyes. And his lips, soft and kissable, surrounded by his beard and mustache, neatly trimmed. “Unless he had a good reason.”

Gabriel knew if he didn’t back off he was going to kiss her, right here and now. A thoroughly improper thing to be thinking about, much less doing. Any minute now, he expected her to bolt. To change the tone of the way things were going. To rail at him to find the culprits who were actually responsible for these killings and do something to exonerate her father. But she didn’t. She didn’t move an inch. If anything, she relaxed a bit toward him, putting herself even closer. The blue feathers on her hat swayed and fluttered.

That damn perfume made his head swim. What was it, anyway? Lilac. Hannah had worn lilac perfume. Hannah…

Gabriel cleared his throat and backed up. Feeling guilty as hell for betraying Hannah’s memory, he took a deep breath and studied the rock formations passing by the window.

“You’d best be gettin’ back to your quarters, ma’am. Be sure you lock the door.”

Trina didn’t know whether to feel angry or disappointed or both. She’d been kissed once or twice in her life. Why, Geoffrey had kissed her just last week when he’d proposed to her for the fifth time. It had not felt exciting in the least. But she ought to be excited, shouldn’t she? The way she felt right now, for instance.

The excitement of kissing Geoffrey had been entirely one-sided. Trina had considered it dull at best. And tedious. Just what she found attractive about Geoffrey was getting to be harder to identify with each passing day. Geoffrey was sweet enough, but he did everything she told him to do. Staring down Geoffrey was no challenge at all. And he’d certainly never backed away from kissing her when she’d let it be known she was willing to be kissed. Had she ever felt this excited, this eager to be kissed, when Geoffrey was the man just inches away? She couldn’t remember.

Kissing Mr. Hart would no doubt be dull and tedious, in spite of the fact that looking into his eyes caused little tingly things all up and down her spine.

Trina shook herself. A well-bred young lady shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts. Why, it was practically indecent to want to kiss a man before they’d at least talked about engagement. And she had no intention of ever being courted by such a man as Gabriel Hart. Why, what would Aunt Francis and Cousin Bertha say? And Aunt Sophie! She’d never be able to live down such a thing, even if she lived to be sixty-eight. Just because Trina never had a mother to tell her how a lady should behave didn’t mean she hadn’t had plenty of instruction from the other women in the family.

Trina sighed. How dull it was to be proper. How tedious. A thought struck her. Of course. That had to be it.

“Mr. Hart, are you married?”

Such grief appeared in Gabriel’s eyes that she gasped, staggered backward a couple of steps and reached for her throat.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hart. I obviously have overstepped the boundary of good taste by asking such a personal question. I sincerely beg your pardon, sir.”

Gabriel stared out the window. He had to get his emotions—his hatred—under control. Any reminder of Hannah brought it back as if it were yesterday. The grief and the hatred burning in him sometimes threatened to blank out his mind entirely. He couldn’t let it run free. Not until he had Blackburn in front of him, pleading for mercy—which he wouldn’t get. But this woman couldn’t know that.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “It’s nothing you’ve done, Miss McCabe.”

“Are you sure? I—”

“My wife died over a year ago.” The words bit into him like a rattlesnake and refused to let go, pumping venom into him, poisoning his very soul. “Your question was a reminder, that’s all. There’s no harm done.”

How could she have been so thoughtless as to blurt a personal question that way? Trina scolded herself soundly, wishing she’d had the good sense to keep her thoughts and curiosity to herself.

“I’m dreadfully sorry.”

“Yes, ma’am. Now, if you’ll pardon me…”

In spite of what he’d just said, she knew she’d let her headstrong tendencies get out of hand again. She owed him another apology.

“Of course, Mr. Hart. I apologize again for my…thoughtless question. I…I’ll speak with you again later…about my father.”

Gabriel nodded but didn’t look at her. He had to push the venom away so he could be in control again.

Hesitating in the corridor, Trina berated herself for hurting him so terribly. He must have loved his wife dearly for her death to still be such a dagger in his heart. She wondered how Mrs. Hart had died, but knew she could never ask. It wasn’t any of her business, anyway. He’d said it was over a year ago. By now he should have accepted her death and decided to get on with his life, shouldn’t he?

Trina slapped her cheeks, punishing herself for being so nosy. Shame on her! What must she be thinking to want to pry into this man’s life and affairs? She had to forget the incident and hope he would do the same. If she never mentioned it again, perhaps he’d forgive her impertinence.

She knew she should go straight to her compartment, lock the door and stay there until the train arrived in Silver Falls tomorrow. But something niggled at her like a bird trying to pluck a stubborn worm from a hole in a tree trunk. She had to see for herself why her father had lied. Seeing his bodyguard push that man off the train while her father watched had almost made her heart stop beating. He’d supposedly killed that second man because he was threatening to kill her father—and that couldn’t have been true, since the man had not been carrying a gun. None of it made any sense.

Trina eased out the back door of the Pullman, shivered over to the baggage car and went inside, then stopped for a minute to let her eyes adjust to the darkness.

The car was piled haphazardly with boxes, traveling bags and trunks of all sizes and descriptions. There seemed to be no pattern to the jumble at all. Luckily, each parcel dangled a label with the owner’s name and destination. On the left was a platform. Anything previously there had been moved to make room for the unexpected baggage now occupying the space.

There he lay. Deader than a doornail. Trina shivered, but not from the cold. If she were to inspect the body, looking for a gun, she’d have to touch—

The door slammed back with a loud thud. “Are you lost, Miss McCabe?”

Trina jumped about a mile and let out a yelp.

The conductor latched the door and shook his head at her. “This is the baggage car, ma’am. I don’t believe whatever you’re lookin’ for will be in here, unless you mean to get into one of those trunks you brought on board.”

“Trunks? I didn’t bring any trunks. You must have me confused—”

“Two of ‘em. Heavy. I figured they was chock-full of your fancy clothes and doodads. Your father saw to the loading hisself.”

“My father? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am. Now, if you’ll tell me what you’re lookin’ for, maybe I can help you find it.”

“Nothing. I’m…lost…just as you said. I guess I got turned around and went out the back door instead of the front. I’ll go back to my quarters now. Thank you kindly.”

The conductor shook his head again and watched her go, muttering under his breath about foolish females.

Trina went straight to Gabriel’s door and knocked lightly.

Gabriel came, hesitated when he saw it was her, then opened the door. “Miss McCabe—”

“Shh! I have to talk to you. It’s important.” She pushed past him.

There didn’t seem to be any escaping this woman. He closed the door and waited.

“Mr. Hart, I have just learned something extraordinary.”

“I see.” Gabriel was back on an even keel. He didn’t want to lose the edge again, but if anyone could make him do it, it was Trina McCabe. “Who?”

Trina stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

Was she slow or stupid or something? “Who told you whatever it is you’re so all-fired excited about?”

“No one. The conductor. You did!”

Gabriel didn’t like the sound of this. “Miss McCabe…”

“Let me start again. May I sit down?”

Gabriel threw up his hands. “Sure! Why not? Mi casa es su casa.”

Trina stopped halfway down and stood again. “What was that? Spanish?”

“Never mind. Just get it said.”

“Back in the baggage car just now—”

“What were you doing back there?”

“Looking at the dead body.”

“You enjoy looking at dead bodies, do you?”

“Of course not. I just wanted to see if he had a gun.”

“I told you he didn’t.”

“I wanted to see for myself.”

“Humph.” Gabriel didn’t cotton to being doubted.

“Anyway, the conductor startled me. He thought I was looking for one of the trunks I brought on board the train.”

“How long are you plannin’ to be in Silver Falls, Miss McCabe?”

“Two days. Why?”

“Just wonderin’ why you’d bring trunks for such a short stay.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Bring any trunks.”

“Wait a minute. You just said—”

“The conductor thought they were my trunks, but they weren’t.”

Gabriel sighed. She was determined to make him pull the story out of her word by word. “Whose were they?”

“My father’s.”

Gabriel’s head started to hurt. “Is there a point to any of this?”

“I was getting to the point when you interrupted.”

“Pardon me, ma’am, for interrupting.”

“You’re pardoned.”

“Can we get on with this little recital?” He rubbed his forehead tiredly.

“Certainly.” If he wanted her to hurry, why was he asking so many questions? It must be the nature of an ex-sheriff. “It seems that my father brought two heavy trunks on board the train in Denver. I wasn’t aware of it until now.”

“So?”

“So I don’t know what’s in those trunks. What could it be? My father’s bodyguard pushed a man off the train, then killed a man who was trying to shoot my father, only the man had no gun, and…and…Mr. Hart, I’m so confused, I don’t know what to think next!”

“You and me both, ma’am.” He’d been right about her seeing something earlier. But it brought him no satisfaction to have figured it out. Gabriel just wanted to be alone. Trina was giving him the granddaddy of all headaches and he needed a drink and some shut-eye to get rid of it. “I’ll think about it for a while and let you know later what I decide, all right? You really must go to your quarters now. I think part of your confusion is due to lack of rest.”

Trina could see the pain in his eyes when he reached to massage his temples. She stifled the impulse to massage them for him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hart. I’ve caused you more distress than I have a right to. I won’t bother you again, I promise.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He opened the door for her and smiled thinly when she walked past him. He waited until she entered her compartment and clicked the lock into place before he closed his door and lay down on the bed.

Distractions. He had to rid himself of distractions and get back to the task at hand, which was to find Blackburn and kill him. Nothing else could hold any importance for him.

In his mind he saw Trina’s face, shining with excitement Her lower lip, stuck out in a pout. The dismay and regret he’d seen in her eyes when she’d asked if he was married. He’d never seen a woman with as many different faces as she had.

Damnedest woman he’d ever met.

Hannah had been as predictable as night and day. Not Trina McCabe. Guessing which face she’d show him next was like trying to guess when it would rain in Texas. Or when it would quit.

He rubbed his temples and tried to blank his mind of anything except his primary thought—kill Blackburn.

He’d forgotten to have that drink.

Gabriel got up, grabbed his coat and headed for the dining car. The scent of lilac perfume lingered on the collar of his coat where it had touched her face and neck. A hollow feeling opened up in the pit of his stomach.

Damn woman.

He stalked off down the hall.

Trina watched him go, then left her compartment Tiptoeing, looking back over her shoulder at every noise, every bump of the train, she headed for the baggage car.

Chapter Four

Inside the dank baggage car, Trina took a long, slow, deep breath and tried to stop shivering. The dead man lay there, as cold as the mountain outside. He was already starting to stiffen. His arms stuck out like those on a porcelain doll, and one boot cleared the shelf an inch. She shivered again, less with the cold than with revulsion.

It was stupid for her to be here, but she had to know the contents of those trunks her father had brought on board, and she had to get to them before those men did. With all her heart she hoped it would be something she’d laugh and scold herself about later.

She picked her way among the baggage carefully, having difficulty standing erect with the swaying and lurching of the cumbersome car as it climbed the mountain. Boxes tied with string…leather bags…canvas bags…trunks with other names on them…There they were. The tags tied to the locks had McCabe written on them. She tried to open the nearest trunk.

Locked. She’d suspected they would be, otherwise those two men would have stolen whatever was in them. How was she going to get into one of them?

The answer was obvious. She’d have to have the key. She knew, as surely as she knew Gabriel Hart was the most attractive and maddening man she’d ever met, that dear old Papa would have the key in his pocket.

The only other alternative would be to break one of the locks, but then her father would know someone had gotten into the trunk, and she certainly didn’t want that.

With her lip stuck out, she went back to the Pullman…and met Gabriel Hart just inside the door.

“You must be really curious about dead men, Miss McCabe, to spend so much time back there inspecting the body.”

Trina bristled. “I did not go back there to ‘inspect the body,’ Mr. Hart.” Caught. In spite of all her sneakiness. Her heart fluttered like a little bird.

“Well, then, why were you in that car?”

It wasn’t any of his business what she did. Then again, he might know a way to get into those trunks without leaving any trace of the entry.

“If you must know, I was inspecting the trunks my father brought on board.”

“I see. Did you satisfy your curiosity?”

“No. They’re locked and I have no way to unlock them.” She stuck out her lip again.

Gabriel couldn’t stand to let that lip go unkissed.

“Come in here.”

“What?”

“I said, come in here.”

Gabriel took her hand and dragged her into his compartment, closed the door, then pulled Trina into his arms.

She didn’t protest. In fact, her eyes widened until he could see the whites all the way around. Afraid? He didn’t think so. Shocked? Surprised would be closer. Her lips were mashed together in a straight line.

“Do that again.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and tilted her head back so he could see her better. Those blasted feathers fluttered between them. He found the hat pin, pulled it out and lifted the hat from her head, then pitched it onto the chair with his.

She knew she should struggle and protest. So why didn’t she? Kissing Mr. Hart would be dull and tedious. Totally forgettable. Wouldn’t it? She reached to see if her hair stuck out where the hat pin had pulled loose. It seemed to be flying everywhere. “Do what again?”

“Stick out your bottom lip. Pout.”

“I don’t under—”

“Just do it.”

With a gulp and a deep breath, Trina stuck out her bottom lip.

Gabriel sucked that pouty lip into his mouth and felt her shudder from the crown of her head to, he suspected, her dainty little toes. If she was going to slap his face and report his behavior to Papa, she’d do it now.

Trina, startled beyond words, wound her arms around his neck. The kiss was neither dull nor tedious. Mercy! Those other boys she’d kissed—whatever their names had been—had no idea whatsoever how to kiss. No wonder it had been so dull. Gabriel Hart, on the other hand, knew exactly what kissing was all about. If he thought she was going to push him away…

Gabriel smiled through the kiss. He could tell she hadn’t been kissed—really kissed—before. She might have let her young man press his lips to hers, but he’d bet she’d never opened her lips and…

He pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Surprisingly, she opened wider, inviting what was undoubtedly new to her, and started making noises in her throat—little kitten noises—that drove Gabriel crazy. Never in his life had he kissed a woman who really knew how to kiss back. Not even Hannah—

He stiffened. And pulled away.

Trina knew exactly what was going on in his mind, and she wasn’t about to stand for it.

“No, you don’t, Gabriel. I’m not her. I’m me. You’re kissing me. And you’d better keep kissing me until I say when.”

Now he was shocked. So much so, he was able to push Hannah out of his mind for the moment.

“What happens if I don’t keep kissing you, Miss McCabe?”

“You don’t want to know. Just do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He let her come to him this time. She didn’t disappoint him. She seemed eager to taste him again, so he obliged. She ran her fingers up through his hair, along his scalp, and he trembled with the delicacy of her touch. When she put her tongue into his mouth he decided she was game for just about anything, short of hiking her skirts and joining him in bed. In time, though…

Gabriel moved one hand between them and tentatively placed it beneath her left breast, just to see if she’d stop him.

She didn’t. In fact, she leaned back just a mite to give him more room.

He took advantage of that room and covered her breast with his hand. Damn, but women wore a lot of clothes. It was more like touching a saddle than a woman’s curvy parts. But who was he to complain? Could she feel that, he wondered?

Trina squirmed a little, wishing she could actually feel his hand touching her. Too many underclothes, she decided. Still, it was nice, all the same, and devilishly naughty.

Trina knew she was acting like a hussy, but what the hell? as her brothers would say. The train would reach Silver Falls tomorrow and she’d never see Gabriel Hart again as long as she lived. Might as well add to her education the best she could while she had the chance. She wondered what else she might be able to learn…

“Buttons,” she muttered against his mouth.

Gabriel looked straight into her eyes. “Buttons?”

Trina sighed in disappointment. He’d broken the spell. Why did he have to look at her? Why couldn’t he just take the hint and…

Gabriel looked at the front of her blouse and saw the row of buttons down the front. Could she possibly want…

“You mean you want me to—”

A loud knock at the door made both of them jump.

Trina turned away to the window, grabbed her hat and straightened her skirts even though they didn’t need straightening. She checked her left breast to see if his hand had left a telltale print. It hadn’t. Thank goodness. She plopped the hat back on her head and frantically stuffed wayward curls beneath it. There wasn’t time to ask Gabriel what he’d done with the pin.

Gabriel opened the door. Senator McCabe looked past him to Trina and nodded with a tight pinch to his mouth.

“I should have known I’d find you here. I apologize, Mr. Hart, if my daughter has been bothering you again with all this protection nonsense.”

“It’s quite all right, Senator. I think…” He ventured a glance at Trina, who had straightened her back into a poker and regained her composure. The hat sat slightly skewed to one side, feathers fluttering. “I think I’ve convinced her that everything is going to be fine now. Once we get the little things taken care of and out of the way.”

Trina almost burst out laughing. Instead, she gave him a look that she hoped would say, “If you think you’re going to get my buttons out of the way…” Then she stopped to consider what that would mean—and the fact she’d been the one to draw attention to her buttons in the first place. Her cheeks warmed until she knew they must be flaming.

“Absolutely, Mr. Hart. I can see now that I was silly to worry. I’m sure you’re quite capable of taking care of any…little thing…that gets in your way.”

Gabriel stifled his laughter by coughing. “Coal dust. Awful stuff,” he mumbled.

Senator McCabe looked from his daughter to Gabriel and back again with a thoroughly puzzled expression. “Come on, Trina. I’m sure Mr. Hart needs to rest.”

Trina offered her hand to Gabriel—just the fingertips—and squeezed lightly when he reciprocated. “Thank you, Mr. Hart, for your assistance in this matter. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other later.” She left with her father, babbling something about being starved.

Gabriel closed the door behind her. Damnedest woman he’d ever known. The idea of seeing her again—seeing more of her, kissing her again—made him uncomfortably anxious.

Hannah’s face chided from deep in his mind. He felt guilty as hell. Yet, thinking more about Hannah, he wondered if she might not encourage him to get back to living again.

Gabriel sank into the empty pale green chair, propped his elbows on the ragged spots and closed his eyes. Would life ever be normal for him again? Could it be, without Hannah? Without their child? His hands tightened into fists until his fingers ached from the pressure. Blackburn had murdered an unborn child. No man capable of such an act deserved to share the earth or breathe the same air as decent folk. Gabriel intended to see to it that Blackburn wouldn’t for much longer.

A light tapping at the door brought Gabriel back to the present. Miss McCabe again? If so, she’d chosen a bad time to come for more kisses.

Gabriel didn’t get up. “Who is it?”

“Amos McCabe. I beg your pardon, Mr. Hart, but there’s a matter of the utmost importance I must discuss with you.”

First the daughter, now the father. Gabriel wished again he’d chosen another train. He pushed himself out of the chair and opened the door.

The senator hurried inside. “Close the door. What I’m about to tell you shouldn’t be heard by anyone but yourself.”

Chapter Five

“All right, Senator, spit it out.”

“This won’t take long, Mr. Hart. May I sit down?” He sank into the chair by the window and tried to catch his breath. The altitude was already hindering his breathing. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s gotten out of hand. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep things together much longer.”

Gabriel matched the senator’s sigh with one of his own, picked up his hat and sat down in the other chair, knowing it was a mistake. The senator might drone on for an hour if they got too comfy. He propped one ankle on the other knee and rested the hat in his lap. One blue feather fluttered from the hat to the floor. He decided to ignore it—and take up the matter later with Trina.

“I don’t follow you, Senator. To tell the truth, I’m not sure I want to. Your business is yours. I don’t aim to interfere or get mixed up in it.” If he could just convince a certain redhead that was the case, his life would be a lot simpler.

McCabe nodded. “It’s unfair of me to involve you, I know. But, as I said, things have gotten out of hand. I’m not sure there’s anyone else on this train I can trust.”

“What makes you certain you can trust me?”

“I know you. I know of you. After you’ve heard what I have to say, if you decide you don’t want any part of it, I’ll shake your hand and honor your wishes. Fair enough?”

A trap. If he said no to whatever the hell was stuck in McCabe’s craw, Gabriel would come out a coward, or, at least, an uncaring son of a bitch. There was no way out he could see.

“Spill it, Senator. I’m listening.” Gabriel reached for his watch and flipped open the cover to give the idea he didn’t want to spend all day jawing.

“Thank you, Mr. Hart. You won’t be sorry.”

“I already am.”

The senator looked a bit guilty at that, but it didn’t stop him. “The two men who’ve been killed—”

“Do you admit you pushed a man off this train?”

McCabe stopped. “I…pushed him?”

“Your daughter saw it happen.”

“She told you that?”

“I saw her face when she was standing at that window. Nothing else would have disturbed her that much.” He figured he’d protect Trina’s little indiscretion for the time being. No use in getting the senator riled at his daughter.

McCabe nodded. “Very well. I watched while Wilson pushed him—before he could push me.”

“So it was self-defense.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Just as it was with the man Wilson shot. The man without a gun.”

“No gun? That’s nonsense. Of course he had a gun. If Wilson hadn’t shot him—”

“No gun, Senator. Why don’t you cut the bull and tell the truth? Why did you let him kill those two men?”

McCabe hesitated, running one hand over his mustache. “You want the truth? Here it is.” McCabe licked his lips, looking everywhere in the room except at Gabriel.

“Those men have been threatening me for the past month—since Lucias Cobb decided to deed his land to the state of Colorado. They’re Cobb’s sorry kin, and they claim the land is rightfully theirs. Cobb wanted to make sure they never got their filthy hands on it, so he decided to give it to the state. I was told—weeks ago—that if I showed up in Silver Falls to accept the land on behalf of the state, they’d kill me before I could do it. When they tried, they were killed—in self-defense. It’s as simple as that.”

Gabriel didn’t buy it. The story was too pat, and it didn’t explain why McCabe had let an unarmed man be shot. Something wasn’t right, and Gabriel knew McCabe wasn’t telling him the whole story.

“What do you want me to do about all this, Senator?” Gabriel uncrossed his legs.

“Protect me from these scoundrels until we get to Silver Falls. And, when we get there, be my bodyguard until I’ve had a chance to secure the deed. Once that’s done, Cobb’s kin will be powerless.” McCabe dug deep in his coat pocket. “I don’t expect you to do it for nothing.” He pulled out a small roll of bills and peeled off several. “I intend to pay well for your services.”

“Senator, I—”

“Don’t say no right off. Think about it.” He got up and laid the bills on his chair. “Consider this payment for services already rendered. If you decide to take me up on the offer, there’ll be more, I assure you. Much more.” He extended his hand. “Think it over. I’ll be in my quarters.”

Gabriel shook his hand, then stood silent while the senator left.

“Damn.” Gabriel stared at the money on the chair. Better than a hundred dollars, from the looks of it. McCabe was desperate. If what he confessed was the truth, he had every right to be. Yet a gut feeling told Gabriel the senator had lied through his teeth, beginning to end. Something in his eyes…If Gabriel agreed to provide protection, and the senator was caught up in something illegal, then Gabriel would be involved, as well. Yet if his story—far-fetched as it sounded—proved to be true, and Gabriel didn’t protect him…

Gabriel stared out the window at snow-covered pines whizzing past, and tried to decide what to do. If ever he’d been between a rock and a hard place, this was it.

Trina saw her father entering Gabriel’s compartment Luckily, he didn’t catch her spying. This was her chance to get that key—if her father didn’t have it in his pocket.

Trina tiptoed down the corridor and into her father’s compartment She closed the door then stood with her back against it, surveying the room. Where might he have put it? Methodically she went through everything piece by piece: his valise, which contained a bunch of papers, but no key; his overcoat pockets—nothing there to shout about; and finally the chest of drawers in the water closet. Nothing. Hell’s bells! He had it in his pocket for sure.

She was about to go back to her own quarters when she spied something in the corner between one of the chairs and the baseboard heater.

“Absentminded old fool,” she muttered. “Why, this could’ve caught on fire and burned up the whole train.” She reached for the leather case and pulled it into the center of the room. It was hot on the side touching the heater. Locked. Just like the trunks. What could her father be carrying that had to be locked up?

A noise in the corridor reminded her to hurry a bit. She replaced the leather case, taking care it didn’t lean against the heater this time, and went back to the door.

Easing it open just enough to peek out, she waited until a woman with two noisy children disappeared into a compartment at the far end of the car, verified the corridor was empty, then tiptoed back to her own compartment as the door to Gabriel’s quarters opened and her father emerged. Trina leaned against the door, puffing a little from the excitement of her clandestine activities, and listened for conversation, but there was none.

What did her father want with Gabriel? Obviously, protection. But what about the trunks and that strange case? She couldn’t remember ever seeing that case in his study at home. Those items might indicate other doings afoot If only she could get his keys so she could see what was hiding in those mysterious parcels…

When Gabriel woke from a restless sleep, the sun had slipped behind the mountain. Shadows enclosed the train in gloomy darkness.

His stomach rumbled. A steak would go down mighty good right now. Rare, with juices running out when he sliced through. Some fried potatoes and onions would taste pretty good, too.

Gabriel washed his face and hands and tried to wake up a little more. Sleeping in the daytime had become a habit while he was mending. He’d have to quit it pretty soon. It didn’t look good at all for a grown man to take naps like a little kid.

He decided to change his shirt while freshening up. The one he’d been wearing all day—and sleeping in for the past couple of hours—had wrinkled badly.

Gabriel pulled on a fresh shirt, tucked it in, then made his way forward to the dining car, hooked on in front of the passenger car. A steward met him at the door.

“Ah, Mr. Hart. Senator McCabe requests that you join him for dinner.”

Great. Just great. How could he refuse without seeming rude? He followed the steward to where the senator and Trina sat on opposite sides of the table.

“Senator. Miss McCabe.” He noticed she’d left the feathered hat in her compartment. Wise decision. Her hair was as red as a Hereford calf, falling down her back, almost to her waist.

Trina indicated the chair next to hers. “So glad you could join us, Mr. Hart.”

Gabriel sat down, acutely aware the table was so small and the chairs so close together that their elbows touched.

Senator McCabe gave Gabriel a questioning look.

Gabriel ignored it, answering silently that he hadn’t made up his mind yet.

Trina studied both of them carefully, wondering what all the unspoken communication was about, then launched into a lively spiel concerning the china and silver on the table.

Gabriel hardly listened. Who cared about the dishes? Or the pink and purple broomstraw flowers in a glass vase? Or the linen tablecloth and napkins?

McCabe commented occasionally, but his mind clearly wasn’t on the table setting, either.

The steward took their orders. Gabriel asked for a rare steak and fried potatoes with onions, the senator took the same and Trina selected some sort of fancy chicken dish with sauce on top and vegetables on the side. The steward filled their glasses with water and left.

Gabriel wished for a more substantial beverage, but decided he could wait until later, just before bedtime. And only a short one then. The senator’s actions demonstrated an undercurrent of fear and anxiety Gabriel didn’t like one bit. Even though things had settled down considerably since the senator had disposed of those two men, Gabriel knew better than to relax.

When their food arrived, Gabriel cut into the steak, then almost dropped his knife. Under the tablecloth Trina’s hand tightened on his knee.

What the devil was she up to? Was she trying to alert him to danger of some sort? He ventured a sideways glance at her, but she chattered merrily to her father about some sort of society something Gabriel knew nothing about. Her hand left his leg and reappeared holding her napkin. She dabbed at her lips daintily and looked squarely at him.

“How is your meat, Mr. Hart?”

Gabriel looked off down the car, at his steak, anywhere but at her. “Fine, ma’am. Just fine.”

She replaced the napkin in her lap.

Her hand squeezed his thigh this time and Gabriel choked on his steak. He hacked until his throat was clear, then gulped water until he could breathe again.

“Something wrong with your steak?” Senator McCabe frowned with concern.

“No, Senator. Just…hard to swallow.” He gave Trina a look meant to embarrass her, but it had the opposite effect. She squeezed his thigh again, letting her fingers dance around a little.

What a tart she was! Gabriel decided to shock her into being the lady she was supposed to be. He dropped his left hand to his lap, took her hand in his and brought it higher on his thigh until her hand touched—

Trina jerked her hand away and choked on a bite of chicken. Gabriel slapped her on the back.

“Now you, Trina?” Senator McCabe looked back and forth between Gabriel and his daughter, who was so red in the face she could have been suffering a stroke. “Perhaps I should speak to the chef. Something is causing both of you to strangle.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Senator.” Gabriel patted Trina on the back again and smiled. “She’ll be fine. I think she may have bitten off more than she could chew, that’s all.”

Trina gasped for breath and glared at Gabriel. How dare he do such a crude thing to her, right in front of her father? Why, he’d practically…practically…as a matter of fact, he’d actually…put her hand…She sputtered again and reached for her water glass.

“Confound it, Trina, are you all right, or aren’t you?”

Gabriel picked up his napkin and handed it to her, thinking she might need an extra. “She’s fine, Senator.”

When she took the napkin, Gabriel thought about squeezing her knee, but it would set her to choking again, as sure as shootin’. He decided to leave well enough alone.

They finished the meal with little conversation.

Gabriel enjoyed Trina’s discomfort immensely. In fact, it made him happier than he’d been in months.

Trina could hardly wait for the meal to end. She wanted to wring Gabriel’s neck! That’s exactly what she intended to do, just as soon as the train was quiet and everyone else was asleep. She’d teach Gabriel Hart a thing or two about embarrassing Katrina McCabe!

Chapter Six

Midnight. As far as Trina could determine, the entire train—with the exception of the engineer, of course—was asleep. No one would hear when she gave Gabriel Hart a piece of her mind. No man would embarrass Katrina McCabe and get away with it unscathed.

Trina eased into the corridor and looked carefully up and down, making sure no one was out and about at this hour. Even the excited, rowdy children at the end were sound asleep. The train’s motion had slowed considerably, now that they were higher in the mountains. The gentle swaying and rhythmic clicking of the machinery locking the cars together proved extremely conducive to sleep. But Trina had no intention of sleeping.

She tiptoed to Gabriel’s door and listened. No sound within. Dreaming, no doubt, of how he’d humiliated her in front of her father. Just because she’d squeezed his leg a couple of times was no excuse for what he’d done. Why, all she’d wanted was to shake him up a little—show him that she was in control of the situation. He’d spoiled it by…

A noise. Footsteps inside. A door bumping. The water closet? Trina waited a minute, then straightened her spine and knocked lightly. She certainly didn’t want to wake her father. No response.

She knocked again, harder this time.

The knob turned and Gabriel looked out.

Before Trina could say anything, he opened the door wider, grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. With one smooth motion he closed the door and turned the lock.

“Mr.—”

“Shut up.” He leaned toward her stammering mouth.

“But—”

“Shut up.” He clamped his mouth over hers and pulled her hard against him.

Trina couldn’t move, his hold on her was so tight, and she couldn’t breathe because he was kissing her…kissing her so…deliciously. She gave in and kissed him back.

Gabriel took a step toward the bed he’d fallen into over an hour ago, and pulled Trina along with him. Her tongue in his mouth made his head swim, and the feel of her against his bare chest conjured up pictures in his head—and sensations in his loins—of her bare skin next to his. But she was trussed up like a turkey, and it would take at least ten minutes of dedicated work to loosen all the stays and laces associated with that confounded corset she was wearing. How did women tolerate such a torturous device? Was she so fat she had to hold in the rolls in order to appear slender? He decided, right then and there, to find out for himself.

“Buttons…” she mumbled against his lips.

Gabriel laughed out loud.

Trina couldn’t believe her ears. He’d wake the whole train if he didn’t stop all that noisy laughing! Trina clamped her hands behind his neck and brought his mouth down to hers again to shut him up.

Gabriel didn’t mind. He fumbled with the small, round buttons, but they frustrated him completely. He took hold of each side of the blouse and ripped the rest of the buttons off.

Trina let out a little shriek, but decided what was done was done. Hungrily she pulled him closer, amazed he could produce such a fever pitch in her. Never had she felt so…well, so alive! So excited! So anxious. It wasn’t what she’d come for. Was it? Perhaps it was. Perhaps—Oh, dear God. Oh…dear…oh…

Gabriel found her breasts beneath the blouse and camisole. Even though they crowded upward because of that infernal corset, he could tell there wasn’t an extra ounce of fat on this woman. No, indeed. She didn’t need a corset. Or any clothes at all, for that matter. In fact, he suspected, buck naked she might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, bar none.

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