'Don't you want to know why he didn't show up at the church?'
'You shot at him, didn't you?'
'I did no such thing.'
'I really don't want to know his reasons. All right? Suffice it to say, there wasn't any wedding.'
'Oh, there was a wedding all right. Did I mention my sister didn't show up at the church either, Mr. Clayborne?'
'You're joking.'
'I'm perfectly serious.'
'Your sister and Randolph…'
'Are now legally married.'
He was appalled. 'What kind of family do you come from? Your own sister betrayed you?'
'We were never close,' she assured him.
He squinted down at her. 'I can't help but notice you don't appear to be overly distraught about it all.'
Travis shook his head. He couldn't understand why the story intrigued him so. He didn't even know Randolph Smythe, yet he still felt like punching him in the nose for doing such a cruel thing to Emily. Come to think of it, he didn't know Emily Finnegan either. Why in thunder did he care?
She saw the pity in his eyes and promptly glared at him. 'Don't you dare feel sorry for me, Mr. Clayborne.'
She looked as though she wanted to kick him again. Any sympathy he felt for her vanished in a heartbeat.
'It was probably your own fault.'
If looks could kill, they'd have been measuring him for a coffin now. Travis didn't back down after making his statement, but added a nod to let her know he meant what he'd said.
'And how is that?' she asked, and then accidentally whacked him with her umbrella when she folded her arms across her chest. Because he'd just made such a rude comment to her, she didn't apologize.
He thought she'd done it on purpose. He grabbed the umbrella, tossed it on top of her satchels, and then answered her.
'You chose an unfit, unscrupulous man; that's why it's your own fault, and you should realize by now that you're better off without him.'
He had just redeemed himself in her eyes. He wasn't being cruel when he blamed her; he was only being honest. He was right too. She had chosen an unscrupulous man.
'Are you going to take me to Golden Crest or not?'
'What happened to the couple who was escorting you?'
'Be more specific, please.'
'More specific?'
'Which couple are you referring to?' she asked.
She got his full attention. 'How many were there?'
'Three.'
'Three people or three couples?'
'Couples,' she answered.
He noticed she quickly lowered her gaze to the ground and looked uncomfortable. The topic was obviously a sore one. Then he remembered that his brother Cole had told him how the superstitious folks in Pritchard were spooked by Miss Emily Finnegan. He really should have paid more attention to the conversation, he decided, realizing that it was a little late to be worrying about it now. Still, he should get all the particulars before he took the woman anywhere, just to be on the safe side.
'You went through six escorts?'
'It was a very long trip, Mr. Clayborne.'
'What happened to the first couple?'
'The Johnsons?'
'All right, the Johnsons,' he agreed to get her to continue. 'What happened to them?'
'It was really quite tragic.'
He had had a feeling she was going to say that. 'I bet it was. What'd you do to them?'
Her spine stiffened. 'I didn't do anything to them. They became ill on the train, and I believe it was something they ate that made them sick. Quite a few of the other passengers became ill too,' she added. 'The Johnsons stayed in Chicago. I'm sure they're fully recovered by now.'
'What happened to the second couple?'
'Do you mean the Porters? It was also quite tragic,' she admitted. 'They also became ill. The fish, you see.'
'The fish?'
'Yes, they ate the fish too. I believe it had gone bad, and I did warn Mr. Porter, but he wouldn't listen to reason. He ate it anyway.'
'And?'
'He and his wife were carried off the train in St. Louis.'
'Bad fish can kill a man,' he remarked.
She gave a vigorous nod. 'It killed poor Mr. Porter.'
'What about Mrs. Porter?'
'She blamed everyone else for her husband's illness, even me. Can you imagine? I did warn him not to eat the fish, but he was most determined.'
'Then why'd she blame you?'
'Because the Johnsons got sick. She didn't believe it was the food. She thought I was making everyone ill. You needn't fret about it, sir. If you don't eat any fish, I'm certain you'll be fine.'
'Did the third couple eat fish too?'
She shook her head. 'No, but it was still quite…'
'Tragic?' he supplied for her.
'Yes, tragic,' she agreed. 'How did you know? Have you heard what happened to Mr. Hanes then?'
'No, I was just guessing. What happened to Hanes?'
'He got shot.'
'I knew you shot someone.'
'I did not,' she cried out. 'Why would you think I'd do such a terrible thing?'
'You tried to shoot me,' he reminded her.
'That was an accident.'
He decided to humor her. 'All right, then. Did you accidentally shoot Mr. Hanes?'
'No, I didn't. He and another man were playing cards, and suddenly one of them-I can't remember which one it was-accused the other of cheating. A fight ensued and Mr. Hanes was shot. He wasn't mortally wounded, and the other man could just as easily have been the one injured because they were both shooting their pistols at each other. It was very uncivilized. I ruined my best hat when I scooted under my seat with Mrs. Hanes so I wouldn't be struck by a stray bullet.'
'Then what happened?'
'The conductor patched up Mr. Hanes's arm, stopped the train outside Emmerson Point and left him and his wife in the care of the town's doctor.'
'And you came the rest of the way by yourself?'
'Yes,' she said. 'I'd go up to Golden Crest by myself too if I knew the way. The hotel proprietor told me I needed a guide, and so I've been looking for one. Then you offered your services. You are going to escort me, aren't you?'
'All right, I'll take you.'
'Oh, thank you, Mr. Clayborne,' she whispered. She clasped hold of his hand and smiled. 'You won't be sorry.'
'You may call me Travis.'
'Very well. I appreciate your kindness, Travis, in escorting me.'
