Open Country Read Free

then froze when she found the bearded man staring at her again. Suspicion blossomed in her mind.
    Several times that morning she had looked up to find his assessing gaze on her. At first, she had thought nothing of it. They sat facing each other, after all. Since the man was apparently too large to fit comfortably into the narrow forward-facing passenger seats, he had taken the bench at the front of the car. It was natural that their gazes might cross occasionally. But after years of being invisible and for the last three weeks trying desperately to attract as little notice as possible, Molly found it disconcerting to be the object of such interest, idle though it might be. Could he be a tracker sent by Fletcher?
    The man looked away, but Molly continued to study him.
    He wore a thick shearling jacket, so she couldn’t see if he wore a gun. But those work-worn hands resting on his knees hinted that he earned his living doing more than just waving a pistol about. And his face, despite the low hat and concealing beard, didn’t seem particularly threatening, although that dark stare was a bit unnerving.
    Turning her attention to the window, she tried to remember what she knew about him. She had first seen him that morning when the train had stopped in Sierra Blanca to fill the tender with water, and she and the children had gotten out to stretch their legs. He had been supervising the loading of some sort of machinery onto a flat car. The men assisting seemed to know him, as did the conductor, who had stopped to chat with him when he’d passed through the coach earlier. That meant the bearded man had reason to be here other than to track her and the children. It was simply coincidence that they were on the same train. That, and nothing more.
    Letting out a breath of relief, she glanced at the children. On her left, wearing his usual scowl and chewing his thumbnail, Charlie stared morosely out at the west Texas landscape bouncing by. On her right, Penny dozed, her thumb stuck in her mouth. It was a habit she had resumed of late and indicated she battled the same troubling fears that Charlie did. That they all did.
    Hopefully, soon it would be over and they would be starting a new life in California. She would find employment—either as an assistant to one of her father’s medical colleagues, or in a clinic or hospital—and then they could cease this erratic flight. If she only knew what it was they were running from and why, maybe she could find a better way to protect them. But Nellie had been so weak and distraught the night Molly had spirited the children away from Savannah, Molly hadn’t questioned her. Now she wished she had.
    Feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling her down, Molly tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. How long had they been traveling? Two weeks? Three?
    The children had hardly spoken at first. Confused and terrified, they hadn’t understood why they’d had to depart in such a hurry or why they’d had to leave their mother behind. Penny still didn’t understand, but Charlie did. He had lost so much in his eight years, it made him fearful of what might be taken from him next. Because of it, he trusted no one. Not even her.
    When she opened her eyes, Molly’s gaze fell on her nephew. She had no experience with children. She didn’t know what Penny and Charlie wanted or needed or expected, and her inadequacy terrified her. But she loved them with all her heart and hoped to find a way to reach them and gain their trust. They were all that was left of her family now—probably the only children she would ever have—and she was the only thing that stood between them and Fletcher and whatever threat he posed. She was resolved to protect them at any cost.
    Moved by concern for her troubled nephew, Molly reached over to stroke the fall of auburn hair from Charlie’s furrowed brow.
    He jerked away.
    Molly let her hand fall back to her lap. “Charlie,” she said, and waited for him