Chapter Four
THE TRAIN’S WHISTLEmade Jeremiah’s heart lurch.
He took his hat off, then put it on again before smoothing his vest. He’d worn his finest Sunday clothing to meet Dee, but the suit was older and as he’d put it on that day, he noticed fraying and thin spots in the fabric that he’d never paid attention to before.
Dee knew he wasn’t a rich man, he reminded himself. She oughtn’t mind a fraying hem here and there. And when his parents arrived, they would respect his frugality. They’d be here in two weeks, and that thought compounded his nerves until Jeremiah thought he was glad he’d eaten no breakfast or else he’d risk losing it.
The train from Cañon City squealed to a stop with a rush of steam. The people waiting on the platform around Jeremiah grew more lively as they anticipated the passengers that would emerge soon. Jeremiah swallowed hard when the first person exited the cars. How had Dee described herself?
She was twenty-one, petite, and . . . His mind went blank. He couldn’t remember. Had she described herself any more than that in her correspondence? Had heasked?
Feeling monumentally silly for not asking a question that simple and necessary, Jeremiah kept his eyes fixed on the passenger cars. One by one, people stepped onto the platform. He squinted at a young woman who looked approximately the right age and height, but a man in a suit much finer than Jeremiah’s took her arm.
Where was she? Had she decided not to come? He had the greatest urge to turn and run back to the livery and forget about all of this when someone appeared at his side.
“Jeremiah?” A familiar feminine voice spoke his name.
He turned, and there was Deirdre. She wore a pretty traveling dress in a dark blue that made her eyes look lighter than the sky. She’d pulled her brilliant red hair into a simple style that sat neatly under a hat that matched her dress. Her presence always somehow put him at ease, and he smiled at her now.
“Are you leaving to go somewhere?” He gestured at the carpetbag in her hand. She hadn’t said anything about upcoming travels at the livery yesterday.
“No,” she said softly. She twisted her hand in her skirts before seemingly catching herself and dropping it to her side. “I’m here to meet someone.”
An uneasy feeling settled in Jeremiah’s stomach. Deirdre was dressed to go somewhere, and if not on the train, it must be somewhere in town. Somewhere she intended to stay, if the carpetbag was any indication.
“Who are you meeting?” He tried to keep his tone conversational.
“Well . . .” She pushed her lips together, and then quickly said, “I’m meeting a man.”
A lick of fire ignited somewhere deep inside Jeremiah. He squelched it. He had no right to feel jealousy, not when he’d pushed aside his interest in Deirdre. And certainly not when he was here to meet his bride-to-be. “Is he . . .?” Jeremiah waved a hand, as if that would fill in the words for him.To be your husband?
Deirdre must have understood, because she nodded. “I hope so. At least, those are his intentions.”
He ought to congratulate her. Deirdre was his friend, after all. But the pang in his heart increased. “I suppose this means I won’t be seeing you at the livery?”
“I— I’m not certain,” she stammered.
He smiled at her. She was clearly just as nervous as he was, and they were here for the same reason. He glanced toward the train again, but there was no sign of anyone who could be Dee. Worry made him wrinkle his forehead. He took his hat off again and tapped it against his leg.
Deirdre stood quietly beside him, and he felt her glancing at him as he watched the passengers milling about the platform.
“What’s your fellow’s name?” he asked, trying to both ignore his own anxiety and assuage the fingers of jealousy that still lurked inside. He wondered why she’d never mentioned him.
Deirdre didn’t answer right away. He looked at her, wondering if something was wrong. But she’d been watching him. Her gaze darted down to the floor when she caught his eye, and her hand shook as she dug her fingers into her skirts again.
