Read Online The Christmas Brides by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online

certainly do.”
    The children’s eyes all but popped.
    â€œWe have goose-liver pâté.” He produced several small cans to prove it.
    Woodrow squawked and spread his wings.
    Jack wrinkled his nose. “Goose liver?”
    Ellen nudged him again, harder this time. “Whatever patty is,” she told him, “it’s vittles for sure.”
    â€œPah-tay,” the peddler corrected, though not unkindly. “It is fine fare indeed.” More cans came out of the box. A small ham. Crackers. Tea in a wooden container. And wonderful, rainbow-colored sugar in a pretty jar.
    Lizzie’s eyes stung a little, just watching as the feast was unveiled. Clearly, like the things stashed in her travel trunk, these treasures had been intended for some one in Indian Rock, awaiting Mr. Christian’s arrival. A daughter? A son? Grandchildren?
    â€œOf course, having recently enjoyed a fine repast,” Mr. Christian said, addressing Ellen and Jack directly, but raising his voice just enough to carry to all corners of the caboose, “we’d do well to save all this for a while, wouldn’t we?”
    â€œI don’t like liver,” Jack announced, this timemanaging to dodge the inevitable elbow from Ellen. “But I wouldn’t mind havin’ some of that pretty sugar.”
    Morgan chuckled, but Lizzie saw him glance anxiously in the direction of the windows.
    â€œLater,” Mr. Christian promised. “Let us savor the anticipation for a while.”
    Both children’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. The peddler might have been speaking in a foreign language, using words like repast and savor and anticipation. Raised hardscrabble, though, they clearly understood the concept of later. Delay was a way of life with them, young as they were.
    Lizzie moved closer to Morgan, spoke quietly, while the music box continued to play. “Whitley,” she said, “is an exasperating fool. But we can’t let him wander out there. He’ll die.”
    Morgan sighed. “I was just thinking I’d better go and bring him back before he gets lost.”
    â€œI’m going, too. It’s my fault he’s here at all.”
    â€œYou’re needed here,” Morgan replied reasonably, with a slight nod of his head toward John Brennan. “I can’t be in two places at once, Lizzie.”
    â€œI wouldn’t know what to do if Mr. Brennan had a medical crisis,” Lizzie said. “But I do know how to follow railroad tracks.”
    Morgan rested his hands on Lizzie’s shoulders, just lightly, but a confounding sensation rushed through her, almost an ache, stirring things up inside her. “You’re too brave for your own good,” he said. “Stay here. Get as much water down Brennan as you can. Make sure he stays warm, even if the fever makes him want to throw off his blankets.”
    â€œBut what if he—?”
    â€œWhat if he dies, Lizzie? I won’t lie to you. He might. But then, so might all the rest of us, if we don’t keep our heads.”
    â€œYou’re exhausted,” Lizzie protested.
    â€œIf there’s one thing a doctor learns, it’s that exhaustion is a luxury. I can’t afford to collapse, Lizzie, and believe me, I won’t.”
    Wanting to cling to him, wanting to make him stay, even if she had to make a histrionic scene to do it, Lizzie forced herself to step back. To let go, not just physically, but emotionally, too. “All right,” she said. “But if you’re not back within an hour or two, I will come looking for you.”
    Morgan sighed again, but a tiny smile played at the corner of his mouth, and something at once soft and molten moved in his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. And then, after making only minimal preparations against the cold, he left the caboose.
    Lizzie went immediately to the windows, watched him pass alongside the train. Keep him safe, she