Chapter Eight
The train whistle sounded five miles outside the town limits of Utopia, Colorado, just moments after sunrise.
Mary awoke with a start to find herself resting against Lee's upper arm. Remembering that she had been holding Maddy, Mary instinctively tightened her grasp on the little girl. Her arms were empty and Mary cried out in alarm. "Maddy!"
"It's all right, Mary. I've got her." Lee shifted from his uncomfortable position against the window, then rotated his right shoulder to relieve the tingling pins and needles sensation. He turned a bit in the seat and Mary saw that he held the sleeping Madeline cradled in one arm against his wide chest. He stared at Mary for a moment before he smiled at her.
The tender look in his gray eyes unnerved her. "What is it?" she asked.
Lee reached up and gently rubbed at the pink and white indentations on Mary's cheek. "You have wrinkle marks from my coat on your face."
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I meant to stay awake."
"That's all right. You were tired, you needed to sleep."
Mary stared at her husband and events of the previous day—her wedding day—came rushing back. "What about you?" The sight of him nearly brought tears to her eyes. He sat with his shoulders hunched forward, his large body practically folded to fit into the space between the window and the seat in front of them. "Did you get any sleep at all?"
"An hour or so, here and there."
His gray eyes were bloodshot and two day's growth of blond beard seemed to sparkle on his chin, but he looked as wildly attractive as ever. She hadn't thought it possible for Lee Kincaid to look more handsome than usual, but he did. Dishevelment suited him. Mary suddenly realized that she was entitled to see him this way every morning. She smiled at the intimate thought and a blush brought more color to her cheeks.
Lee was intrigued by the sly smile touching her lips. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no," she murmured, "it's just that…" Mary lowered her gaze to her lap and quickly began to smoothing out the creases in her skirt.
"What?"
"You look so—so—" Mary couldn't begin to put her feelings into words.
Lee rubbed his hand over his chin, gauging the growth of his whiskers. "Tired?" he suggested. "Rough?"
Mary shook her head. Appealing was the word that came to mind. And attractive, and manly. But she couldn't say those things to him. "Different," she finally answered.
"Yes," Lee said, smiling. "I guess the newness has already worn off the marriage. We haven't been married twenty-four hours and you're already seeing me at my worst."
"No," Mary corrected him. "I've seen you look much worse than this."
"When?" Lee asked.
"In Peaceable after David punched you in the eye. And then later at David and Tessa's wedding when your face was swollen and the bruises had turned that ghastly shade of yellowish-green." Mary reached up and self-consciously smoothed back the locks of hair that had escaped the confines of her chignon. "You don't look nearly as bad now as you did then. But I…"
"You look fine," he replied gruffly.
"Are you sure?" Mary glanced around to see if any of the other passengers were paying attention to them, then whispered, "I've never spent the night in the public car before or fallen asleep while traveling alone."
Lee grinned. "Mary, you weren't alone. You were with us." He nodded toward Judah who was dozing in the seat in front of them, then glanced down at the little girl asleep in his arms.
"And it's a good thing you're family," Mary said, "or else my reputation would be ruined." She smiled at him. "Besides, it wouldn't do for anyone to see me looking like this."
"No," Lee agreed, leaning closer to her. "That wouldn't do at all." Her hat had been knocked askew and long straight strands of her shiny black hair had come loose from its neat bun. Her left cheek was puffed from sleep and reddened by the marks of his coat. Her dress was wrinkled, and there was a wet spot the size of a silver dollar on the jacket above her left breast where Maddy had drooled in her sleep, but Lee thought that any man seeing Mary Alexander now, so soft and warm and enticing, in the early morning would be hard-pressed to resist her. Lord knows he was having trouble.
"Other than my husband and family, I mean." Mary stared at Lee's mustache while she nervously tucked another lock of hair back into place. She wondered if he would kiss her good morning. He was her husband, after all, and entitled to a morning kiss.
Husband. The soft spoken word brought a lump to Lee's throat. Family. He couldn't explain the feelings he felt as Mary matter-of-factly included him and Maddy, and even Judah, into her family circle. Lee stared into her big brown eyes. He recognized the look in them—the softness and warmth she reserved for her family and friends. There was none of the hostility and coldness that ordinarily came his way. He wanted to kiss her, and if she didn't stop staring at him with that soft look in her eyes, he was going to do just that. He leaned down to make good on his promise.
The train whistle sounded again and the conductor hurried down the aisle. "Utopia," he announced, "Utopia station."
Lee moved away from Mary as the conductor passed by. He leaned forward in his seat, and reached out to Judah.