was on the line to have a “prince” come to her rescue, marry her, and take her out of “the life,” it rarely happened. Jenny wasn’t naive enough to think it would have happened to her, even if she had met him earlier.
For his part, Luke was lost in his own reflections. He smiled as he recalled how he had gone to the Social Club for the purpose of meeting Jenny. At the last minute he had backed out. And then he was convicted of something he didn’t do. Santelli made a break, the train got stranded by an avalanche, and in the middle of the night, he was sitting close to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He smiled as he realized he may be the only one on the train who was actually enjoying the current situation.
Luke put his arm around her, ostensibly for warmth, and he pulled her very close to him.
Jenny wasn’t sure when it happened, but the embrace grew beyond one of warmth and comfort. She was aware of his muscular body against hers, and she leaned into him, enjoying the contact. They stayed that way for a long moment, then Luke turned toward her. She could see his eyes shining in the soft light of the dimmed lanterns.
Jenny wasn’t surprised when he kissed her, but she was surprised by her reaction to it. She felt a tingling in her lips that spread throughout her body, warming her blood. When they parted, she reached up to touch her lips and held her fingers there for a long moment.
Luke backed away a bit. “I’m sorry. I had no right to do that.”
“I’m not sorry,” Jenny said, surprising herself with her boldness in word and deed, for she leaned into him, lifting her head toward his.
Luke kissed her again, deepening the kiss as he pulled her more tightly against him. Then, gently, he tugged her head back to break the kiss. She stared up at him with eyes filled with wonder, and as deep as her soul. Her lips were still parted from the kiss, and her cheeks flushed.
“Jenny, this is doing you a great disservice. I’m going to jail. This isn’t going anywhere. It can’t possibly go anywhere.”
Jenny felt a ragged disconnect, having allowed herself to come this far, only to be pulled back.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he lowered his head so it rested on hers.
“Jenny,” he said quietly. “Have you ever heard of the Samoans?”
“The Samoans? No, I don’t think so. What are the Samoans?”
“They are natives to some South Pacific Islands. They are a very interesting and friendly people, wonderfully athletic.”
“You have been to islands in the South Pacific?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve been there many times. And among the Samoan culture, there is a saying that applies to us right now, that is, to you and me. The Samoans say there is no difference in the heart of a flower that lives but a single day, and the heart of a tree that lives for a thousand years.”
“That’s a beautiful saying.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“Yes,” Jenny replied. “For us, it means we should live in the moment.”
“Exactly.” Luke kissed her again. Opening his lips on hers, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Involuntarily a moan of passion began in her throat. The kiss went on, longer than she had ever imagined such a thing could last, and her head grew so light she abandoned all thought save this pleasure. Realizing she was totally powerless before him, she made herself subservient to his will, totally surrendering to him.
Then the kiss ended, and he pulled away from her. Only then did Jenny’s own willpower return, and she gave a silent prayer of thankfulness that Luke had been strong enough for both of them.
Santelli, Compton, Morris, and Kelly were enjoying a morning breakfast of bacon and eggs, still holed up in the dining car.
“What are we going to do, Santelli?” Compton asked.
“What do you mean, what are we goin’ to do? We’re sittin’ fine here. We’ve got all the food we can eat, we’re warm and cozy, and all we have to do is wait until some of the snow melts.”
“This here is startin’ our third day,” Compton complained. “And we’re still sittin’ on this train. There’s so much snow piled up on the engine and tender that it ain’t likely to melt until August.”
“It doesn’t have to get all the way melted, just enough for us to get out of here,” Santelli said. “In the meantime, we’ll just enjoy our stay. Like I said, with just the four of us, we have enough food to last for a month, if need be.”
“You know damn well the railroad people ain’t goin’ to leave us up here for a month,” Morris put it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they come here tomorrow.”
“How are they goin’ to get here?” Santelli asked.
“Why, they’ll come up in another train, I reckon.”
Santelli shook his head. “No, they won’t. I climbed up on top of the car to have a look around, remember? There’s damn near as much snow behind us as there is in front of us. Certainly enough to keep any rescue train from making it here for quite a while.”
“So we’re trapped here.” Compton voiced what the rest were thinking.
“No, we aren’t,” Santelli replied. “We”—he pointed to himself, then took in the others with a circle of his fingers—“are the trappers. The passengers are the trappees.”
The others laughed at Santelli’s comment.
“I wish that whore had come up here,” Morris said, rubbing himself. “Hell, if we had her up here, we could have us a fine time just waiting it out.”
“She’ll come soon.” Santelli smirked.
“How do you know?”
Santelli cut open a biscuit and slid a piece of bacon between the two halves. “Because”—he took a bite —“she’s goin’ to get damn hungry.” He smiled as he chewed, and a few crumbs tumbled from his lips.
“Look at them,” Fred whispered to Pete from the other side of the dining car. “Sittin’ there, eatin’ in front of us without so much as givin’ us a crumb.”
“There’s no sense in ponderin’ over it, Fred. There ain’t nothin’ we can do about it.” Pete’s stomach grumbled. He and Fred had been forced to cook for Santelli and the others, but had been denied anything to eat.
“Yeah, there is,” Fred declared.
“What?”
“I aim to cut me off a piece of that bread. I’ll get some for you, too.”
“Fred, no. Don’t do it.”
“I’m goin’ to do it,” Fred said, picking up a knife, then getting a loaf of bread out of the breadbox.
Kelly saw Fred cutting off a piece of bread and shouted, “Hey!”
“What is it?” Santelli asked.
Kelly pointed to Fred. “That guy is stealing our food!”
“You, put that back!” Santelli ordered.
“It’s only a bit of bread. Please, we ain’t had nothin’ to eat for two days,” Fred begged.
“Throw him out of the car,” Santelli said easily.
“No, sir! I don’ have no coat!”
“You should have thought of that before you started stealin’ food.” Santelli nodded at the other three, and they grabbed the porter and dragged him toward the door. He put up a fight until Kelly hit him hard on the head with the butt of his gun.
“Fred!” Pete shouted as his friend went limp.
Morris nodded to Pete. “Get the door open. We’ll drag him out.”
“No, sir, don’t take ’im out there now. He’ll mos’ like freeze to death out there without no coat, and him bein’ knocked out an’ all.”
“He shouldn’t have been stealin’ bread,” Compton justified.
“For the Lord’s sake, mister, what kind of people would do somethin’ like that?” Pete asked.
