“We’re going to Sacramento,” Caroline said sweetly, “It would be nice if you could too.”
Irma shrugged even as Longarm grabbed her arm and practically threw her onto the train. “No money for a ticket that far.”
“Custis?” Caroline asked, looking concerned. “Is that poor girl all right?”
“Sure,” he replied. “She’s just … tired.”
“Oh.” Caroline looked relieved. “The girl probably just needs a nap.”
“Yes,” Longarm said as he excused himself and clambered into the train to direct Irma toward the second-class coach while he sought out his firstclass accommodations.
A few minutes later, when Longarm found compartment number three and opened the door, the heat inside struck him in the face like the heat off a blacksmith’s forge.
“Sonofabitch!” he swore. “It must be a hundred and ten in here! Pete!”
But the conductor was nowhere to be seen. Longarm felt the train lurch forward. He hesitated, then peeled off his coat and removed his tie before he stepped back inside, sweat running from every pore in his body. At least, Longarm rationalized, the compartment was spacious and the bed was just wide and long enough to accommodate himself and sweet, passionate Irma.
Longarm kicked off his boots, coat, and shirt, then flopped down on the bed with mounting anticipation. “Where is that girl?” he asked himself out loud.
Longarm lay sweating and waiting for about half an hour before there was a knock on his compartment door. “Custis?”
“Come on in!”
Irma opened the door and her eyes widened. “Whew! It’s really hot in here!”
“It’s warm, all right. But bearable. Why don’t you come inside and close the door?”
“I can’t.”
He sat up. “What does that mean?”
“Lady Caroline had invited me to join her.”
“What!”
“Custis, I’ve never had the … the privilege of meeting royalty before and I’m sure I won’t ever again. I want to talk to her.”
Longarm reached out and practically dragged Irma into his compartment. He closed the door behind her and said, “Listen, you won’t have a thing to say to that woman.”
“What makes you so damned sure of that?”
“I just know,” Longarm said.
“Well, she really sounded as if she wanted to talk to me. I’ll tell her the truth. I think she wants to meet a real frontier woman.”
“Which you are not.”
“Am too!” Irma pulled away from Longarm. “You just want me to stay here so we can sweat and hump ourselves to a frazzle. Lady Caroline is interested in my mind.”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Longarm groaned. “I thought we were going to make love a dozen times going over the Laramie Mountains.”
“That’s before I met a real princess.”
“She’s no princess!”
Irma’s eyes flashed with anger, and sweat was beading on her upper lip, which Longarm found very sensual. He wanted her, and he’d paid for her ticket to Laramie and saved her from a beating, but he was too proud and too much the gentleman to remind her of these things.
“You want to go visit Lady Caroline, then you go right on ahead,” Longarm snapped.
“I will!”
And she did.
Longarm was furious. This was supposed to be a restful and luxurious trip out to Reno and it was turning into a misery. He found his handkerchief and mopped his brow, feeling salty sweat burn his eyes. He was going to lose weight, not gain it after three days in this miserable sweatbox.
Longarm must have dozed for a couple of hours, because he was suddenly awakened by a knock on his door. “Custis?”
“Go away, Irma. Have some tea and crumpets with the blue bloods.”
“You want to come and join us?”
“No.”
“Are you angry at me?”
“Yep.”
“Can I please come in?”
