The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection by Kathleen Y' Barbo Read Free Book Online Page A

Charlotte.

“Got you this time,” One-Eyed Ed said. “For whatsoever you do, it will come back in the same measure.”
    “Since when do you talk like that, Ed?” Mae needed to keep the man talking, to force his attention anywhere but on the hands she was about to free from the ropes he’d tied around her wrists. In the meantime she talked, discussing meaningless things like the price of cotton and the fact the skies were an interesting shade of blue today.
    Feigning sleep was easy, as she’d gone without it for a full day and part of another. Keeping awake was the endeavor fraught with peril, yet she managed until the outlaw left her to ply his trade, seemingly safe in the knowledge his captive would be waiting when he returned.
    Which, of course, she would not. Mae slipped the loosened rope from her hands, then saved it to use when she found the sorry thief.

    “Miss?”
    Gennie pushed away the maid’s attempts to wake her. “Tell Mrs. Vanowen I shan’t be attending the breakfast today.”
    “Miss?”
    Again came the interruption, this time in the form of rough shaking. “Truly this is most inappro—” Her eyes opened to reveal a mousy couple staring at her. Mr. Mouse gestured toward the aisle, and Gennie’s gaze followed his hand.
    The conductor stood over her, his smile gone. “You’re Denver.”
    “No.” Gennie sat up and straightened her traveling hat, then surreptitiously swiped at her cheek. “I am…” She paused to consider the implications of giving her name.
    “I don’t care if you’re Queen Victoria,” he said. “This is Union Station. Your stop. Time to get off.”
    Realization dawned on her as the conductor moved on. Denver. Fatigue drained away as she leaned forward. Ash and soot covered the pane, making the city look as if it wore a coat of dull gray. A closer look revealed the slightest outline of snowcapped peaks.
    “The Rockies,” she whispered. “Oh my.”
    It was a beautiful sight. She, however, was not.
    “I’ll need to freshen up,” she said to the conductor as she gathered her reticule and hung it from her wrist. “Then I’ll be happy to accommodate your request.”
    The man offered an inelegant snort, then pointed to the exit. “Denver. Union Station,” he repeated. “Freshen up all you want once you’re on the platform, but unless you want to pay to go farther, you’ve got to leave the train.”
    Gennie forced herself to exhale. Wouldn’t Papa be surprised she’d taken such a risk? Mama, of course, would be appalled. She stood a notch straighter at the thought of her mother.
    “Miss?” The conductor punctuated his irritation with a sweep of his hand. “Might I escort my lady to the exit?” he asked in a sarcastic tone.
    With a quick nod to her frowning seatmates, Gennie rose. “Not necessary.”
    Her legs felt like they’d been encased in lead, but somehow she managed to move toward the nearest exit where all of Denver—playground of Mae Winslow and her frontier friends—awaited her discovery.
    But first there was the matter of Mr. Beck, who must be told his permanent governess would be delayed by exactly one month.
    Gennie pressed past the conductor into the aisle, then tried to smooth the wrinkles in her traveling coat, succeeding instead in smearing the ash and grime farther into the once-lovely fabric. No matter. A thorough cleaning and the ensemble would be as good as new.
    She stepped out onto the platform and paused to look around. Denver. Or as much as she could see beyond the trains, people, and imposing structure of the rail station.
    While the mass of men, women, and children could have represented travelers from anywhere, the snowcapped Rocky Mountains in the distance could not. She knew the air would be clean and bracing, and the skies so clear and deep blue it hurt to look at them. The only disappointment was in Union Station itself. She’d expected some sort of rough-hewn affair with logs and chinks of plaster holding the wind at