Patrick, who had not won a hand since the lieutenant left, brightened noticeably when the soldier reappeared in front of the table. “Good to see you, Lieutenant. Hope you got that payroll locked up again. I didn’t like you leaving. You took all my luck with you.”
Lieutenant Ridgewood stood frozen halfway down to his seat. “What did you say?”
His voice was sharp, commanding, almost angry, and Patrick stopped smiling. A look halfway between surprise and concern covered his face. “I said I’m luckier when you’re sitting here playing.”
“No, I mean before that! What did you say?”
“I think,” Father Murphy suggested, “that o’sullivan here is guilty of listening to table gossip. We’ve been speculating that your men are guarding an army payroll. I guess from your reaction we are right?”
The lieutenant let himself sink the rest of the way into his seat. “I see.” He fumbled with the coins that compiled his stake, arranging them in neat orderly piles, which would not long survive the train’s vibrations as it raced along the rails. “I would thank you gentlemen, ladies, not to interest yourselves in military matters.”
Miss Davis leaned close to the lieutenant and placed her hand upon his arm. “Surely it cannot hurt for us to know what you are escorting.”
The lieutenant visibly controlled his anger at this contradiction of his wishes. He forced himself to smile and laid his hand atop Miss Davis’s. “Of course it wouldn’t. Anyone who saw my men carrying the pay chest on board knows what we are escorting. I simply prefer not to discuss the matter in public.”
“Quite sensible,” Perkins agreed as he gathered the cards together and began to shuffle. “I’m just glad you’re still able to play with us. How many men got left behind in Rawlings?”
The pretense of calm good humor fled the lieutenant’s face as his eyes snapped away from Miss Davis to lock upon Perkins. The anger evident in that stare did not disconcert Perkins at all. He began to deal the cards, and Corey, with a fighter’s instincts and peripheral vision, found his attention suddenly pulled away from the lieutenant and Perkins to the rest of the table.
Father Murphy’s back was mostly to him, but from the positioning of his head Corey believed he was looking directly at the lieutenant. Patrick was mostly doing the same, shifting his attention between the lieutenant and Perkins. Miss Davis was also staring at the lieutenant, and with an expression much harder than her fawning words would seem to indicate. But Miss Parson was looking at neither man. Her gaze was directed back into the train behind Corey, and she had a most thoughtful expression etched upon her face.
It was over in an instant. Miss Parson masked her features and pushed her attention down to the cards she was gathering automatically in her hands. It was over in an instant, but Corey could not shake the feeling of urgency her expression invoked in him. Thoughtful described it, but not fully. Her face had also expressed a significant twinge of concern.
Twisting in his seat so that he could lean back against the wall of the railcar, Corey looked back over his shoulder toward the back of the car. He could feel the wall vibrating rhythmically against his shoulder blades. The lieutenant was reluctantly answering Perkins as Corey examined the faces behind him.
“I lost two men. Somehow they didn’t make it back on the train at the stop in Laramie.”
There was the old woman and her family, of course, and a handful of men in suits, each evidently traveling alone. There was also a younger family with three small children and more than a half dozen rugged-looking trailhands scattered across the length of the car. No single passenger attracted his attention. No single passenger seemed to justify Miss Parson’s concern. Perhaps Corey had misread her expression and she was merely annoyed with Perkins for aggravating the lieutenant. She seemed to like the officer, but somehow that didn’t seem explanation enough for the boxer.
“I suspect you’ll find a telegram waiting for you in Rawlings or Green River,” Perkins was saying. “They’ll be on the next train desperate to catch up with you before you reach your new posting. Where did you say you were headed again?”
“Fort Bridger,” the lieutenant answered, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
Perkins continued talking as if he was unaware of the lieutenant’s growing anger, but Corey’s instincts told him he was baiting the man. “Bridger? Isn’t that in Utah among the Saints?”
“Near enough,” the lieutenant answered. He took a deep breath, put the palms of both hands flat upon the table, and began to push himself to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me?”
“Now look what you’ve done, Mr. Perkins,” Miss Davis complained. “The lieutenant made a simple request of us, and yet you insist on continuing to stick your nose into his business. Lieutenant Ridgewood, please stay and keep playing. We will all promise not to ask you anything else about forts or payrolls or missing soldiers for the rest of the journey. Please stay.”
The plea was the most sincere appeal Corey had heard in a long time, and it wasn’t hurt by the way Miss Davis was staring up into the lieutenant’s face and batting her eyes. He didn’t see how the man could refuse her request. The lieutenant clearly agreed with Corey’s silent assessment. He sat down again and faced the men at the table. “I would greatly appreciate it, gentlemen, if we could find another topic for our conversation.”
“Fair enough,” Perkins agreed.
“Anything to keep you here,” Patrick announced. “You see, you’re lucky for me. And that’s a quality I quite admire in a card player.”
Corey rolled his eyes. The worst part was that Patrick probably thought he was pleasantly changing the topic of conversation.
“So tell me, Lieutenant Ridgewood,” Father Murphy lifted his voice to be sure it carried beyond the table to the rest of the car where many of the passengers had been listening to the exchange. “I wouldn’t be wanting to pry further into your business, but I must confess that I’m bursting with curiosity about something. And unless I miss my guess, I’m not the only one to wonder.” He indulged in a dramatic pause as his fellow players wondered if he was about to drive the lieutenant away from the game after all. “So tell me, Lieutenant Ridgewood, on your honor as an officer and a gentleman speaking to a man of the cloth—” The priest gave a meaningful nod toward Miss Davis. “—are you married?”
Even Miss Parson smiled.
Conversation naturally dwindled as the poker game heated up again. Lady Luck had definitely deserted Patrick, but she hadn’t settled fully on a new favorite. Lieutenant Ridgewood won the first hand, followed by Miss Parson, who beat Perkins out of a hard fought, high stakes pot with three jacks to his three nines. Then it was Father Murphy’s turn, followed by the lieutenant again. And so it went with every player sharing in the winnings, and only the lieutenant clearly stretching ahead.
At Rawlings, as he had in Laramie, the lieutenant excused himself to check on his men and presumably to inquire about a telegram. As he left the table, Miss Davis caught at the lieutenant’s hand. “Would it be possible, Lieutenant Ridgewood, for me to accompany you while you review your men?”
The lieutenant frowned while he considered the request. Corey thought he would refuse the young woman, but clearly Miss Davis’s charms overpowered the officer’s initial instincts. Lieutenant Ridgewood bowed formally. “It would be my pleasure.” Offering Miss Davis his arm, he escorted her from the car.
Corey stood as well. “Hungry, Miss Parson? Patrick?”
“Oh, so you notice me again, do you, Mr. Callaghan?”