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Authors: Nicole Jordan
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title, but then broke the seal and read the note penned in a bold, elegant hand.
Mrs. McCord,
My behavior toward you yesterday was reprehensible and inexcusable, I freely admit. Indeed, I deserve to be horsewhipped. Perhaps it is too much to ask your forgiveness, but I would be honored if you would accept the use of my private car as a wedding gift, by way of apology.
I must respect your choice, my dearest Heather, though I fear I am not yet sanguine enough to wish you joy in your marriage. I can only trust he will be as good to you as I would have striven to be. However, I shall count myself your friend always
and beg you to call on me should ever you find yourself in need.
Yours forever fondly,
Evan Randolf
Heather felt her expression soften. Evan was acknowledging her marriage and asking her forgiveness, showing far more generosity than she expected of him.
“What does he say?” Winnie asked.
Realizing both Winnie and Sloan McCord were watching her, she looked up to find those arresting blue eyes fixed intently on her. “Mr. Randolf wishes to loan us his private car.”
“How thoughtful,” Winnie remarked.
“Tell Mr. Randolf,” Sloan said to the conductor, “that my wife and I cannot accept.”
Heather felt herself stiffen at his peremptory tone. “It is a wedding gift. He means it as an apology.”
Winnie’s brow wrinkled. “Actually, it might be rude to refuse.”
“Indeed it would,” Heather insisted, “which is why I don’t intend to.”
Sloan visibly clenched his teeth. “Then we’ll pay for its use.”
Heather stared at him in bewilderment, but received only a cold glance in return.
“Can you see Mrs. McCord to her quarters?” Sloan asked the conductor. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode off toward the ticket office.
“Oh, dear,” Winnie said worriedly. “Perhaps that was a mistake. I forgot how stubborn male pride can be.”
Heather repressed an even sharper remark, unwillingto discuss her conflict with her husband with the conductor looking on.
The conductor escorted them to a car toward the rear of the train. Once inside, Heather caught her breath at the ornate decoration. Gold wall sconces and gilded mirrors adorned the beige silk walls, while the brocade bed hangings and velvet chaise longue were hued a deep crimson.
“Oh, my,” was all Winnie said about such decadence.
Heather could only stare at the huge bed, thinking of her wedding night still to come.
The conductor set down her valises. “The train will depart in half an hour, ma’am.”
When he was gone, Winifred toured the car’s length, inspecting the furnishings in detail.
“I must admit this is a treat for me,” she said, shaking her head. “It isn’t often I get to board an iron horse, and even more rare that I get to see such riches. That Randolf
does
have excellent taste—but what a waste of good money.”
She kept up a trivial chatter to set Heather at ease, for which Heather was infinitely grateful. She regretted when the time came for Winnie to go.
They both shed tears as they clung to each other, knowing they would not see each other for a long while.
“I don’t like to leave you like this,” Winnie said, sniffing.
“I’ll be fine, truly.”
“I’ll miss you dreadfully, dear.”
“And I you, Winnie. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me.”
“Pooh, it was nothing more than you would have done for me.”
When the train whistle blew another long and piercing blast, Winnie stepped down from the carand stood on the platform, hand raised to wave good-bye.
The smell of cinders hung in the air as the huge engine strained forward. For an instant Heather experienced a moment of panic as she wondered where Sloan was, fearing that he had neglected to board the train. But then she remembered how determined he was to return to Colorado right away. He would not have missed this train, even if it meant sharing the company of an unwanted wife.
With a sigh of
Mrs. McCord,
My behavior toward you yesterday was reprehensible and inexcusable, I freely admit. Indeed, I deserve to be horsewhipped. Perhaps it is too much to ask your forgiveness, but I would be honored if you would accept the use of my private car as a wedding gift, by way of apology.
I must respect your choice, my dearest Heather, though I fear I am not yet sanguine enough to wish you joy in your marriage. I can only trust he will be as good to you as I would have striven to be. However, I shall count myself your friend always
and beg you to call on me should ever you find yourself in need.
Yours forever fondly,
Evan Randolf
Heather felt her expression soften. Evan was acknowledging her marriage and asking her forgiveness, showing far more generosity than she expected of him.
“What does he say?” Winnie asked.
Realizing both Winnie and Sloan McCord were watching her, she looked up to find those arresting blue eyes fixed intently on her. “Mr. Randolf wishes to loan us his private car.”
“How thoughtful,” Winnie remarked.
“Tell Mr. Randolf,” Sloan said to the conductor, “that my wife and I cannot accept.”
Heather felt herself stiffen at his peremptory tone. “It is a wedding gift. He means it as an apology.”
Winnie’s brow wrinkled. “Actually, it might be rude to refuse.”
“Indeed it would,” Heather insisted, “which is why I don’t intend to.”
Sloan visibly clenched his teeth. “Then we’ll pay for its use.”
Heather stared at him in bewilderment, but received only a cold glance in return.
“Can you see Mrs. McCord to her quarters?” Sloan asked the conductor. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode off toward the ticket office.
“Oh, dear,” Winnie said worriedly. “Perhaps that was a mistake. I forgot how stubborn male pride can be.”
Heather repressed an even sharper remark, unwillingto discuss her conflict with her husband with the conductor looking on.
The conductor escorted them to a car toward the rear of the train. Once inside, Heather caught her breath at the ornate decoration. Gold wall sconces and gilded mirrors adorned the beige silk walls, while the brocade bed hangings and velvet chaise longue were hued a deep crimson.
“Oh, my,” was all Winnie said about such decadence.
Heather could only stare at the huge bed, thinking of her wedding night still to come.
The conductor set down her valises. “The train will depart in half an hour, ma’am.”
When he was gone, Winifred toured the car’s length, inspecting the furnishings in detail.
“I must admit this is a treat for me,” she said, shaking her head. “It isn’t often I get to board an iron horse, and even more rare that I get to see such riches. That Randolf
does
have excellent taste—but what a waste of good money.”
She kept up a trivial chatter to set Heather at ease, for which Heather was infinitely grateful. She regretted when the time came for Winnie to go.
They both shed tears as they clung to each other, knowing they would not see each other for a long while.
“I don’t like to leave you like this,” Winnie said, sniffing.
“I’ll be fine, truly.”
“I’ll miss you dreadfully, dear.”
“And I you, Winnie. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me.”
“Pooh, it was nothing more than you would have done for me.”
When the train whistle blew another long and piercing blast, Winnie stepped down from the carand stood on the platform, hand raised to wave good-bye.
The smell of cinders hung in the air as the huge engine strained forward. For an instant Heather experienced a moment of panic as she wondered where Sloan was, fearing that he had neglected to board the train. But then she remembered how determined he was to return to Colorado right away. He would not have missed this train, even if it meant sharing the company of an unwanted wife.
With a sigh of
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