She awoke with a start as the stallion splashed into a shallow creek.
How long had it been since they'd taken a break?
She reined in and let him take a good, long drink. She untied the bindings at her thighs that were keeping her in the saddle, slid down from the horse, her boots splashing in the shallow water.
She knelt and cupped her hands in the icy water, splashed it on her face.
Was the dream only an expression of her own worries? Or a foretelling of what would come if she went to Philadelphia with Adam?
Back in the saddle, she lashed herself in again. There were hours still to go, and without anyone but the horse to talk to, it was best to secure herself.
She started singing, a trick Pa had taught her on a long-ago roundup. Her voice rang out loud and clear in the empty landscape. The stars wouldn't care that she couldn't carry a tune. The stallion didn't seem to, either.
She let him canter until her eyes were crossing with sleepiness again.
She wasn't aware she’d dozed, but this time the dream was different.
She was walking through an enormous house. Not one she recognized, but it was clear the furnishings were expensive and fine. A library—what would she do with that?—then a luxurious bedroom. And then a... nursery. Adam looked up at her from where he sprawled on the floor, his legs spread on a carpet. A toddler in a pinafore looked up and squealed with delight.
"Mama!" the little girl cried.
And Breanna startled awake again. Her breaths sounded harsh in the stillness.
The first rays of sunlight were gilding the horizon.
Sunrise—on the heels of that second dream. Could it be some kind of sign from above?
She'd never even thought past the humiliation waiting for her in Philadelphia to the life she and Adam could share. He'd never mentioned whether he wanted children, but she'd always wanted a big family. Maybe not as big and crazy as hers, but one or two children. Or three or four. Five, at the most.
Would Adam wear that soft look on his face, or had her imagination outdone itself?
Would he be the kind of father who spent all hours at the office, or the kind who spent all hours in the nursery?
He'd given her his horse. Sacrificed his race for hers.
Couldn't he see he was meant for more than wasting away in an office?
She caught sight of movement against the lightening horizon. A rider there. Either he'd passed her in the night or he'd been ahead of her all along.
They couldn't be far from the finish now. Maybe a few miles. The other rider was at least a half a mile out and riding hard.
She touched the stallion's shoulder. "Are you awake, boy? We've got one more push."
He responded when she nudged him into a trot and then a full-out gallop.
Did he have enough energy left to catch that lone rider? To win?
Adam had caught a late train.It was the only one heading toward Chicago with an open stock car. He'd known that Breanna would never forgive him if he left Buster behind, so he'd done his best to sleep on the overnight train in a crowded passenger car.
In the early morning hours, he couldn't help straining his eyes to see out into the darkness. She was out there somewhere. Was she taking care of herself? Stopping enough?
The train ride both took forever and wasn't long enough. He still hadn't discovered a solution to the worlds that seemed to be pulling them in opposite directions.
He disembarked at the Chicago station, trying to shake off his exhaustion and keep his wits about him.
Get Buster. Send a quick telegraph to Clarence. Find his way to the finish line, which was set up on the outskirts of the sprawling city.
He’d have to hustle to make it there before the race ended. Already the sun was coming up.
