“I got something for you.” Abby squats and pulls something from her shoe, fast as lightning. “Seth Cornelison came up to the lighthouse. Him and his family are moving out west. To Montana. He drew that star map he promised you, and said he wanted you to have it.” She hands me the rolled-up paper she showed the deputy, but now there’s something inside it. I sneak a quick glance. It’s a carpenter’s nail set, sharpened to a point. That must have been what she had in her shoe. I furtively stash it inside my brassiere just before Adams turns around.
“You’ve had enough time, girl,” Adams barks.
I reach through the bars and grab Abby’s hand. “I love you,” I whisper.
“Me too.” Her eyes spill over again. “Just . . . be careful.”
Abby turns away and I watch her go, my heart thudding in my chest. She just took a big risk doing what she did. I’m so filled with love and longing I could cry. But I ain’t got enough water left in me for crying.
I sit down on the narrow cot and unroll the star map. Seth labeled everything neatly, but some of the names of the constellations are off. Where the Big Dipper should be written, he’s got Billings. And where Orion is, Ranch. And finally, above Cassiopeia, MD Safe.
Realization dawns over me. Morris Doherty. Safe. It’s a note, letting me know that Morris made it to Billings. Of all the things going wrong in my world, something is finally going right. Maybe in Montana, Seth and Morris can be free to be themselves. I lay down on the cot, flattening out as my bowels gripe again and a wave of dizziness washes over me. The metal shank rests cold against my breast. I’ll have to be careful to keep it hidden until the time is right. But for the first time in days, I have hope.
TWENTY-EIGHT
DEIRDRE
1881
Deirdre arrived at the depot in Rogers, tired from the long journey. She was stunned by how quickly the new town had sprung up around the rail line. There were shops and a stagecoach stand, and the beginnings of new houses all around. Pa had told her many times of the power the railroad held—to build new cities and destroy old ones—but she’d never seen it for herself. It was astonishing.
Famished and thirsty, she walked to the café near the station for a cup of tea and a pastry. She was hurriedly finishing her meal when she caught a glimpse of Robbie outside the window. Deirdre’s heart soared. She left a dollar on the table and rushed outside.
“Robbie!”
He turned, his eyes lighting with recognition. “Deirdre Jane? Is that you?”
She picked up her hem and ran toward him. He caught her in his arms and picked her up, laughing. “Why, I hardly recognized you. You sure are a sight for these sore eyes! I just came to get some roofing nails for Pa. Lands, this place has grown, hasn’t it?”
She buried her face against his chest and sighed. She was home. Home, and in her husband-to-be’s arms. If it weren’t for the circumstances, she could have laughed for joy. “Oh, Robbie. I’ve missed you.”
He chuckled warmly. “I’ve missed you, too. I thought you weren’t coming home until later this fall, though.”
“I got a telegram from Pa, telling me I needed to get home. Mama.”
He nodded. “I can take you, if you like. I don’t have a wagon, just my horse, but as long as you don’t have much in the way of luggage . . .”
“Just my bag! I left it inside the café. I’ll just be a minute.”
Deirdre rushed inside to get her bag, and Robbie met her at the corner, where he sat astride his handsome Appaloosa mare, Georgia. He offered his hand to her, and she lifted her skirts and swung up to sit in front of him, hanging her bag from the saddle horn.
He nudged Georgia with his heels, and they were off at a trot. Deirdre sighed and leaned back against Robbie, his warmth and strong arms a sturdy support. Before long, his hands began to wander, and though Deirdre’s mind had been far from lovemaking when they’d first reunited, his touch soon sent an undeniable flare of desire through her. When they reached the covered bridge that stretched across Ballard Creek, freshly repaired after the floods, Robbie abruptly pulled Georgia to a halt.
“Why are we stopping?” Deirdre asked. “I should get home, Robbie. Mama—”
“Just for a few minutes, Deirdre,” he whispered against her neck. “A few minutes won’t change a thing, I promise. The stage would have taken twice as long.”
He dismounted and helped her down. They walked beneath the bridge, hand in hand. Once they were well hidden in the shadows, Robbie kissed her, his mouth searching and soft. She sighed, her hands tangling in Robbie’s hair. His kisses had improved by a mile.
He pressed her against the wall of the bridge and began undoing the buttons on her shirtwaist. “I need you so much, Deirdre.”
“Here?” Deirdre asked nervously, clutching her blouse closed. “What if someone passes by?”
“They won’t. Not at this time of day.”
“I . . . Robbie, I just don’t know—”
“Shhh,” he whispered, silencing her with another kiss. This one was deeper, hungry, hard, and demanding. Deirdre whimpered as Robbie opened her shirtwaist all the way. She cast furtive eyes to either side of the bridge, ears perking for the sound of hoofbeats.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. He kissed the soft flesh between her breasts, then lifted his head. His eyes glinted in the low light. For a moment, just a moment, his countenance flickered, and he looked like someone else.
Suddenly, he grasped the hair at the nape of her neck, crushing her lips to his as he pulled her to him. Desire flooded through her. She closed her eyes as the ache between her legs became a torrent of want.
“It’s time, Deirdre,” he growled. “I’ve waited long enough.”
Deirdre nearly swooned as Robbie raised her skirts and found the opening in her drawers. He had never touched her like this. She threw her head back, gripping his shoulders as he worked her with a sureness unlike anything she’d ever experienced. When she shattered, moments later, he lifted her against the bridge’s wall and took her. She clawed at his back and clung to him as he watched her with unwavering, depthless eyes. It was exciting—dangerously so—to be made love to in such a salacious way. When she found her pleasure again, she could have sworn she heard Gentry’s laughter echoing along with her cries.
After her trembling ceased, he lowered her gently onto her feet. Robbie’s eyes, storm gray and searching, met hers in the darkness. “I suppose I’ve missed you,” he said, laughing shyly.
“I’ve missed you, too. But now that I’m back, we won’t never have to miss each other again.”
“That’s right,” Robbie said, his smile dying. He turned his back as Deirdre buttoned her blouse and smoothed her crumpled skirts. Guilt warred with her lustful satisfaction. She thought of Mama, sick and dying at home. What if their little tryst had cost her more than a few stolen moments?
Just as she feared, when Deirdre saw the darkened windows of the cabin, she knew she was too late. She gave Robbie a hasty kiss, hoisted herself from Georgia’s back, shouldered her bag, and broke into a run.
She found Pa on the porch, his head cradled in his hands. At the sound of her rushing through the grass, gone long and weedy, he lifted his gaze and stood. He was thin. Haggard. “Deirdre . . .”