Breakfast with a Cowboy

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2013 Vanessa
Devereaux

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-621-8

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Melissa
Hosack

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BREAKFAST
WITH A COWBOY

Love Cowboy Style, 2

Vanessa
Devereaux

Copyright ©
2013

Chapter One

Josie glanced at the clock on the station wall,
watching the second hand speeding around its face. The train was due in four
minutes and twenty-four seconds. This would be her last chance to change her
mind, turn toward the exit, and never look back.

 
However, she’d
never let anyone down before. Well, not intentionally. The bag with the item in
question stood at her feet. She ran her hands around her ticket, feeling its
sharp edges bite into her fingertips.

 
She was about
to embark on a train journey that would take her through three time zones, and
cover 2,200 miles. The whole thing would take forty-seven hours. Pioneers had
crossed this same land in covered wagons and survived, so could she.

 
Stomach acid
churned in her belly when a rumbling noise rocked the platform, signaling the
train’s arrival. She’d never traveled by rail before, neither had Jennifer.
Well, that was if you didn’t count the miniature electric one at the fair. Her
parents still had the photo of her and Jennifer riding on it. She closed her
eyes, trying to get the image out of her mind because they were happy times
they’d never share again.

Who
knows what’s in store for us, so live like it’s your last day on earth.

“Can I help you with your bags, miss?”

Josie glanced up, realizing one of the train workers
was talking to her and that the train was ready to be boarded.

“That would be great, thanks.”

He grabbed the handle on her pull along case and was
about to reach for the smaller one when she put her hand on top of his,
preventing him from doing so.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to take this one. There’s something
very valuable inside.”

“Absolutely, and we have a lockup area at the rear
end of the train if you’d feel more comfortable storing it there.”

She shook her head. She wasn’t letting it out of her
sight.

“Are you going all the way to Seattle?” he asked
when they got onboard.

The reality hit her. She was actually doing this.
She was going halfway across the country on a train.

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“First time on this train?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll love it. Can I see your ticket and I’ll
direct you to your seat?”

Josie pulled it out of her coat pocket and handed it
to him.

“Sleepers are this way. And I’ll show you where the
restrooms are, and also the restaurant car.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. A couple of days
of nothing to do but watch the scenery outside the window, taking in all the
sights Jennifer had missed. And then at the end of the journey…she couldn’t
think about what she had to do there.

One
small step at a time.

“Here you are. I’ll put your case by this seat. Have
a nice trip and be sure to ask one of the staff if you need something,” he
said.

Courage, she wanted to reply but doubted they kept
it on board.

****

Quinn knew he could have gotten to the station faster
if he got out of the taxi and walked. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. It was his
for oversleeping and jumping into a cab during rush hour. His head still ached
from last night’s party and drinking. He rested his temple on the side of the
cab’s window, its coolness helping to ease the drumming sensation there.

He glanced ahead, seeing nothing but cars. Quinn
wondered what would happen if he missed the train. Would they allow him to
catch the next one? He looked at his ticket but didn’t see anything about that
written in the minute print.

Still, he wouldn’t worry too much. A train wasn’t
his only means of getting home. He closed his eyes again. He’d only gotten
about two hours sleep and it was already catching up on him. Must be what turning
thirty-eight
was all
about. Mel had kindly booked a
sleeper compartment for him, so maybe he’d nap all the way home. That probably
wasn’t what his buddy had in mind when he’d gifted the ticket to him.

The cab stopped and he opened his eyes, thinking they
were stuck in another traffic jam, but he was more than relieved to see the
sign for the station hovering above them.

He rummaged through his bag, pulled out some money,
and handed it to the driver.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks, and you need help with your stuff?”

“Nope, but thanks for offering.”

“Have a good trip.”

Quinn got out and slung his bag over his shoulder
and the zip round bag containing his one and only best suit, over his arm. He
sprinted into the station but realized he might be too late.

“Has the train for Montana left yet?” he called out
to a woman sweeping the floor.

“Nope, heard it’s been delayed.”

Seems it was his lucky day after all. He ran onto
the platform, saw the train still there, and made a mad dash, almost dropping
the bag containing his suit on the way, toward it. He got onboard and now all
he had to do was find his seat. He’d take a nice long siesta and hopefully
wouldn’t get disturbed by anyone or anything until he got to Whitefish.

He walked up and down a few of the corridors, completely
lost, but finally saw a lady in a blue and red uniform.

“Excuse, me ma’am, could you tell me where I’d find
this compartment?” He turned his ticket around to show her.

“You’re close. If you follow me, I’ll take you right
to it.”

He followed her along the next corridor, and sure
enough there it was.

“Here’s a map of everything on the train.
Observation deck is down this way to your right and the restaurant is beyond
that, and then the bar is this way,” she said pointing to her left.

Alcohol was the last thing he needed, but maybe a
glass of wine would help him sleep even better.

“Thanks for your help.”

“Have a good trip. And we’re here to help so just
holler.”

Quinn stepped inside the compartment, placed his bag
on the seat, hung up his suit, and then sat down. He kicked off his cowboy
boots and rested his head back as the train began moving. He watched as Chicago
slowly disappeared from view. It had been his first time in the Windy City.
Actually his first time in any city of its size.
Not that he
had anything personally against them, but give him the small towns any day. He
was itching to get back to the ranch, his horses, and the cattle. The steady
rock of the train made his eyes flutter and then shut.

The first ten minutes of his sleep had been a treat,
but then someone sobbing had jarred him wide awake. It sounded like a woman. He
closed his eyes again, trying to block it out, but he wasn’t that sort of
person. Whoever it was sounded sad.
Well,
duh, Nolan, people who cried weren’t usually jumping up and down with happiness
.

He pulled at a loose piece of thread on his jeans.
The cowboy in him wanted to go and see if he could help. The other little part,
the modern man, wondered if he should mind his own business. Quinn leaned his
head back again. People were unpredictable these days, getting uptight about a
gesture that used to be a given not so long ago.

She sobbed, this time it was louder, and he even
heard her catch her breath.

Hell,
she needs comforting.

He jumped up, exited the compartment, and traced
exactly where the crying was coming from. Next compartment if he wasn’t
mistaken. The curtains in there were pulled across the glass. He turned to
leave but then couldn’t. He was an old-fashioned guy and when a woman was
crying a cowboy stepped into help.

“You okay in there?” he asked, tapping on the glass
in the door.

Shit, what if she had a guy in there with her, a
husband who was about to suggest he mind his own business? Not that he was
scared. He’d been in his fair share of bar brawls.

He listened closely. No response. No answering of
the door.

At least she’d stopped crying.

But he’d better check one last time before he went
back to his own space.