And what a face it was. The golden hair that dusted his jaw drew her gaze to his full lips and friendly smile, and she could barely make out that his eyes were either blue or green beneath the low brow of his black cowboy hat. The faint scent of cloves and cedar came from his clothing as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze growing slightly puzzled as he stared down at her.
“Are you okay? What’s your name?”
Shaking herself out of the odd daze, she blurted out in her real voice, “Yes, I’m fine.” Worried that he saw through her disguise, she quickly ducked her head and said in an unnaturally low voice, “My names Roger, sir.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “What happened to your face?”
Self-conscious, she touched the bruises no doubt darkening her cheekbone and her healing scraped chin. “I fell down.”
If being curled up in a ball on the ground while getting kicked by two grown men could be considered falling down, she thought to herself with more than a tinge of bitterness.
Just like in Chicago, vile men here preyed on the most innocent. One of this city’s pimps, Mr. Charles, had tried to recruit her, saying that there was a lot of money to be made for a young boy with her looks. He’d promised her shelter, and good food—all she could eat—if she came to work for him. When she refused, he had his goons beat her up and encouraged her to think about his offer, because he intended to see her again tonight.
Touching the bruise on her jaw, she winced, then tucked her hat down lower to hide the signs that she’d been in a fight.
“You fell down,” he repeated in a flat tone that practically screamed his disbelief.
“Yes, sir.”
“Huh,” he replied, but she was too afraid to look up to get a read on his face. “Haven’t seen you around the city before, and your accent is different. Where are you from?”
Using the brush, she began to scrub the dirt and dust off the man’s black boots. “Back east. Chicago.”
The man let out a low whistle. “That’s a fair bit of travel. Your mum and dad come with you?”
“No,” she said as she looked down. She pretended to mess around with the shoe polish as she tried to swallow back her tears. “Both my parents have passed on.”
Her father, Jonas, had been a dreamer. He’d regaled his children with tales of the American West—stories he’d heard all the way in Norway which drew him to the United States. One day, he’d intended to take his family out west. Rowan had spent many evenings planning with her father on how they’d strike it rich mining for gold.
Unfortunately, when Rowan was only ten, he’d gotten severely injured at his job as a welder. On his deathbed, he’d made Rowan vow she’d someday escape Chicago, and she would go West with her family. She’d worked hard to fulfill her promise to him, but her mother had passed five years after her father.
It had taken awhile, but she’d worked hard and finally saved enough money to buy train tickets for herself and her brother to go to California and start a new life. One of Ted’s friends was already out there, working and making a good deal of money as a carpenter for a construction company. He had a great job lined up for Ted, but her brother had to be there within the next month or it would go to someone else.
Everything had been going well until the first night they were in Butte. They had a three day wait for the next train heading to California and decided to stay at a cheap hotel while they were here. That night, they’d been robbed while they slept. To make matters worse, when Rowan woke the next morning, it was with a raging fever. With only the little bit of money they’d had hidden away, Ted managed to find a doctor for her, but they’d faced a bitter decision. Winter was coming soon, and the trains sometimes shut down entirely for months due to the weather. She couldn’t travel, but if Ted waited for Rowan to get better, he’d miss his chance to get to California and the good job as a brick layer they so desperately needed.
Together, they’d made the decision that he needed to go.
That was six weeks ago. Every day, her remaining hope that he would make it back to Butte before winter dwindled.
“You live around here?” His question pulled her from her dreary thoughts.
She had to cough into her sleeve to clear her throat before saying, “No, sir. I’m heading west, to the gold mines. My brother’s out there right now, and he’s going to come back for me soon.”
Tilting her head down, she bit her lip and cursed herself for saying too much. Something about this man made her want to talk, to tell someone about the trouble she found herself in. Sneaking a glance up at him, she decided it was his eyes. Despite the fact that he was big, leanly muscled and taller than most of the men around them, his turquoise eyes were so kind.
She hadn’t seen a lot of kindness lately.
The sun was starting to set, and she was getting desperate, hoping she’d have enough to at least get a room in one of the hotels, so she’d be safe from Mr. Charles. While part of her wanted to flee, she knew there was a Mr. Charles in every city. Plus, Ted would never find her if she left Butte. Despair soaked through her, making her just want to sit down in a dark alley and never get up again.
Her dreams were over, shattered
