the turn of events. He looked more confused and worried.
He might be clean and not swear, but for all she knew he’d murdered and buried several wives out on that ranch of his. No one, not even her brother-in-law, knew Hank Harris well enough to pay him an honest compliment. He might be a raving maniac living way off in a town she’d never heard about. But then, who was she to question his sanity. She’d married a giant she’d talked to for five minutes in the dark.
The wind tugged a strand of her hair free. She turned away from his stare and tried to push it back beneath her bonnet. When she looked back, he was still staring at her as if she were the first woman he’d ever encountered. He had a strong face, made of all planes and angles. Not handsome, but solid with character.
Aggie let out a breath and told herself that a man’s face didn’t lie.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “How are we doing so far?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I haven’t shot you yet so I guess the marriage is lasting.”
“You think we might try sitting down? It’ll get mighty cold out here in the next eight hours.”
Turning around just as the car shifted, Aggie lost her footing on the narrow step.
Hank’s hand touched her waist only long enough to steady her. When he pulled away, she thought she heard him whisper, “Sorry.”
They moved inside and found an empty seat. While she slid close to the window, Hank tugged at the top half of the bench in front of them, shifting the back so it made the seat face them. He sat his saddlebags on the empty bench. The tiny square he’d created offered them space and the hint of privacy. With an almost empty train, no one would be close to them for the journey.
He stood, halfway between the seat next to her and the one across from them as if debating where to sit.
“Do you like to ride facing backward?” she asked, thinking he looked so cramped having to lean forward to keep from hitting the top of the car.
“No,” he said but didn’t move.
She pulled her skirts close against her leg, making room for him.
When he sat, his knee brushed hers and he apologized again.
Relaxing, she almost giggled. Any man who’d said he was sorry twice in ten minutes of marriage couldn’t be as bad as her fears. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’re married. We’re bound to touch now and then.”
He nodded and tossed his hat and coat on top of his saddlebags. “We probably need to talk about the rules of this partnership. I’d sure hate to do something to make you think you’d just as soon be a widow.”
She patted the gun belt at her waist and smiled. “It’s a long way to Amarillo. Maybe we should set a few rules so we both know what the other expects.”
And they did. He told her of his house and how he’d change one room to be hers. She said she only knew how to fix breakfast, but she’d do that every morning if he’d cook dinner. He explained that his land was less than a mile from town so they could manage to eat at the hotel café some nights.
When he talked of his home, he relaxed, describing it so well she could almost see the ranch with its endless sunsets and room to breathe. From the train window the land turned flat, but he painted the beauty in it with his words so clearly she could almost see it through the night.
Somewhere between Fort Worth and home, Aggie fell asleep on her new husband’s shoulder, dreaming of a life where her time was her own and no one ordered her around.
Chapter 4
Hank put up with her wiggling beside him, trying to get comfortable, for as long as he could stand it, then he shifted and circled his arm around her shoulder. Her head settled against his heart. She sighed softly in sleep and stilled as if she’d found the place where she could relax.
He thought back over everything he’d done or said all evening, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up heading back home with a beautiful woman sleeping on him. Not just a woman . . . his wife. He’d always said he liked his solitude, but he looked forward to seeing what tomorrow would bring for the