Bless Anna! Even in her grief she has mothered me. Tears formed in her eyes. No, I haven’t time for that right now. First I must see to Camellia—that’s the best way I can honor Sonia. Oh, please, God, enfold Sonia into Your bosom where she belongs and watch over her darling daughter. Continue to protect her with Your love, as You showed just now, rescuing us from that demon.
Further rummaging revealed two folded diapers with spare pins and a cloth for washing Camellia. She suspected the valise would have more supplies, but hoped there would be some means of washing out the soiled linens! At least there was a waxed canvas bag tucked in next to the diapers, a place to hold them until they could be cleaned.
The conductor stepped back into the car with the porter, who took the bottle, giving his own little bow, and offered to bring it back warm, “in just a jiffy, Madam.”
“Did you need to see my ticket, Sir?”
“Oh, thank you, Madam, that would be most helpful.” He tore a small stub from the bottom and returned the ticket to her. “And your maid?”
A look of sadness and regret shadowed her face as she replied, thinking of Sonia, who would now never join her husband, and Anna, who had a family of her own, and then her own lady’s’ maid. “She couldn’t come.”
In fact, when offered the opportunity to travel, her maid Lucy had pertly declined. “I’m courting with William, you know, Miss. I’d likely have had to give my notice in a month or two anyway,” she’d added airily. The little baggage. I probably couldn’t have dealt with her lack of wit and conversation, anyway. But it would have been useful to have her here now. Or, she considered the bundle in her arms, maybe not.
Megan turned her attention back to the conductor.
“If I may be so bold as to suggest,” he offered, bowing slightly again, “there is another woman aboard, traveling with an infant, who might well be able to assist you. With your permission, I can bring her by for an interview once the Pinkerton agent returns to take your statement.”
“Pinkerton? Then that horrid man was being sought by the authorities?”
“Indeed, Madam, you have assisted in the apprehension of Willie ‘the Dip’ Dawson! He is notorious for preying on travelers who are careless of their belongings, but now is wanted for the murder of a young woman who may or may not have been his wife.”
Properly shocked, Megan brought her hand to her mouth, encountering Camellia’s blanket. Despite her discomfort, she’d managed to drop back off to sleep with her head on Megan’s shoulder.
In the confusion of people coming and going, the porter returned with the bottle which he handed to Megan and, indicating his wrist, said, “I tested it for you Madam. It should be just right. My wife and I have three of our own and she’s trained me! Name’s Johnson, Madam, should you need further assistance.
The conductor held a brief conversation with Johnson, who glanced back at Megan, smiled, then nodded to the conductor and hurried off.
“I’ve sent Johnson to fetch the Widow Kemble for you. If things work out between you, she is traveling all the way to Arizona Territory, too! Popular destination these days. And apologies for my bad manners, I’m Stevenson.”
By now Megan had shifted Camellia onto her lap, having slid the waxed bag beneath her. It had been too long and she didn’t trust the layers to protect her clothing for much longer. The baby was suckling happily at her bottle, making soft slurping noises. Remember the cloth for her shoulder, Megan gently slipped the bottle from the grasping lips and tilted Camellia onto her shoulder, patting for the expected burp, which brought a huge smile to Mr. Stevenson’s face.
“I see you are no stranger to infants, either,” Megan smiled, then introduced herself as Miss Maddux.
“Miss Maddux, but I thought . . .”
“My sister’s child.” Well, that’s near enough to the truth; I always thought of Sonia as a sister. “A tragic story.” Biting her lip, a tear crept onto her lashes and she blinked rapidly to dislodge it.
While she suspected he was dying for a gossip, he remained circumspect, dipping his head.
The train gave a small lurch and he reached out to the wall to steady himself.
“Mr. Stevenson, how remiss of me not to invite you to sit down! And here you are doing me the courtesy of offering your protection.” Megan felt rather as if she’d invited the butler to join her, but surely this was a special circumstance.
Mr. Stevenson clearly shared her sentiments as he thanked her but remained standing.
CHAPTER SIX – The Pinkerton Agent
The Pinkerton agent, when he returned a few minutes later, showed no such compunction and seated himself without so much as a by-your-leave. Pulling a notebook and pencil from within his jacket, he nodded to the conductor, saying, “Thanks, Stevenson. I can take it from here.”
Doing his slight bow again, Stevenson murmured, “We are here to serve you, Miss,” and turned reluctantly to leave.
“Thank you again for all your assistance so far this morning, Mr. Stevenson. I’m afraid I’ve been a great nuisance to you.”
“On the contrary, Miss, you’ve been quite a heroine!”
The agent watched Stevenson leave, then turned back to her.
“I just need a statement from you about what happened, Miss? Mrs.?”
“Miss Maddux, thank you. I am bringing my sister’s child to her father.”
“Really? And what are the circumstances?”
“That, sir,” she darted him a steely glare, “is a private matter and not your concern.”
“You’re
