he’d ever seen. Mother Nature must have had an off day to put the strange colors of feathers together.
Before he could settle back in his chair, another man boarded. He was of medium build, but he carried himself with the confidence of a warrior preparing to face a battle. His handshake was fast, his grip tight, his speech clipped, as though he didn’t want to waste a moment more than necessary with small talk.
Lewt couldn’t figure out whether he liked the man, and from the way Davis Allender watched him, neither could the young man.
“I’m Boyd Sinclair,” the stranger announced. “Rode half the night to make it in time for this train.” He seemed to look around as if to make sure everyone was listening, then added, “I had my man load my horses. Can’t wait to see how the McMurray horses measure up to my stock.”
Davis grinned. “I thought we were going to meet the ladies, not the horses.”
“Of course,” Boyd nodded. “I’m just thinking ahead. Normally, I wouldn’t travel to meet a woman, but I’ve heard of the Whispering Mountain stock. The trip will be worth it just to examine their lines, and if I happen to find a suitable bride, all the better.”
Mrs. Allender whispered, “Oh my.”
Lewt laughed, then whispered back to only her, “I do hope he’s talking about the horses when he mentioned examining their lines.”
The little lady blushed.
They all took their seats as the train started to roll. Mrs. Allender looked nervous, but as soon as the train leveled off in speed, her son was up walking the length of the car as if he could help move the train along faster.
Lewt decided to play the host and offered everyone a drink. Mrs. Allender took water, Davis asked if there was any hot tea, and Boyd asked for brandy.
While Lewt rummaged in the tiny pantry, young Davis leaned into the doorway and asked, “How long?”
“Before the trains it would have taken three or four days, I’m guessing, but now, we’ll be there before dark.” Lewt had never been this far north, but he’d heard Duncan talk about the trip when he went home. Texas had been settled from south to north. The farther up the state you went, the more western and less southern the country and the people became.
Boyd Sinclair leaned on the other side of the tiny pantry door. “I’d rather have made the trip on horseback, but Duncan informed me that the offer to stay at Whispering Mountain was only extended for this week. We arrive tonight and leave the following Saturday morning.” He gave the other two men a curious look. “I got the feeling these McMurrays are none too free with invitations. Folks in San Antonio say there’s only one way into their land. It’s over a bridge, and twice they’ve burned the bridge to keep people off their land.”
Davis shrugged. “Duncan asked me three months ago when I came by his office with plans for a new federal building. I’m just the junior architect on the job, but he said then that if the time was right, he’d love me to see his home and meet the family. I thought he was just being polite, but two days ago, he asked me again.”
Lewt handed them both their drinks and carried his and Mrs. Allender’s water back to the seating area. He asked a few questions, but gave nothing about himself away. The conversation moved from Boyd talking about himself and his adventures and Davis talking about the rich blends of architecture that made Texas unique.
Around one o’ clock a porter brought a lunch of fruit and sandwiches. They all moved to the table to eat, then settled into different areas. Mrs. Allender leaned into the love seat and napped. Davis pulled out what looked like a sketchbook and took a seat by the window. Boyd propped his feet on the chair across from him and snored the afternoon away.
Lewt took the other single seat by the window and watched the land move by as he planned. He’d always believed in chances, in playing the odds. No matter how bad his life was, he’d never lost hope that someday, somehow, a chance would open up and he’d be able to make his life better.
Looking back, he realized that from where he started there wasn’t anywhere but up. He’d been born to the town drunk and the woman who cleaned rooms and did laundry at a whorehouse. His father told