While she would never allow him to know what she thought, he was actually rather interesting, and his stories certainly helped pass the time. She wondered if they would resume once they began their travel onboard the train.
Roderick took his time saying farewell to Donahue before leaving him to begin the next stage of their journey, although Gwen finally realized that it wasn’t the horse he was reluctant to leave.
He finally turned to his brother, who was watching him with eyes surprisingly misty for a man his size.
“Good luck, Roderick,” the elder brother said gruffly, and Roderick hesitated for only a moment before stepping toward him and enveloping him in a hug. The brothers clutched one another tightly, as though they could store up the embrace and hold onto it into the future.
“Thank you, Callum,” Roderick said as they stepped back from one another. “Thank you very much.”
Then he turned abruptly, grabbed her elbow, and they boarded together just moments before the train began its slow chug east.
Roderick tried to put up a silent front, to make Gwen aware of just how angry he was at what her actions had led to — making him look like a fool, having her put them in such a situation, and hurting countless people throughout the years. True, thieving was a crime that was easier to commit, not having to look one in the face while committing it, but it was a crime nonetheless. He pushed away the thought that thieving and raiding had been the way of many Scots for years. Times were different now. Roderick’s clan in the Highlands had known hardship — were knowing hardship — and so many people he knew, who were like family to him, had made their way to the Americas. To imagine some of those good, hardworking people having so much taken away from them by people like Gwen Malone angered him to no end.
And yet, the quiet between them made the time stretch on interminably, as they sat beside one another tensely silent, and eventually, he had to know the answers to the questions that swirled around in his head. It would also prevent him from thinking about leaving his brother, and wondering when he might see him again.
“From what my brother tells me, the Doc Malone Gang has been in operation for over a decade,” he finally said, before looking over at her. Her eyes were just beginning to close in sleep, but they snapped open when he addressed her. She nodded at his words, her long, flaming waves floating around her shoulders. “You would have been but a child at the time, no?”
“I joined a dozen years ago. I was twelve,” she said with nonchalance as if a thieving young girl was no problem.
“So tell me,” he continued, turning to face her beside him. “What type of father allows his twelve-year-old daughter to enter into such a life? What kind of man is Doc Malone, and why do you continue to protect him so?”
She was silent for a moment, looking out the window of the train but saying nothing. He was about to ask her again, to force her to answer him, when she spoke in a soft tone that he had not yet heard from her.
“He’s not actually my father.”
“What?” Roderick leaned forward to look into her face, shocked at the words that had come from her lips. “What do you mean, he’s not your father? We are doing all of this for a man you are not even related to?”
She turned to look at him.
“He is not my flesh and blood, but he is now my relation,” she said, her green eyes boring into him with an intensity that made him want to jump back. “My parents sent me away. They had too many children and could not house and feed us all. My brother and I were sent to live with an aunt and uncle across the ocean. We were told they would meet us when we reached land. My brother died on the journey. He was supposed to look after me, but he caught ill and never recovered.” She paused for a moment, seeming to collect herself, and guilt began to pool in his belly. He had never guessed she would tell a story like this, and he had a feeling he knew what the ending would be.
“When I reached Montreal, there was no aunt and uncle waiting for me. Whether my parents fabricated them or they didn’t