Gabriel's Heart

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…