* * *
The stillness and the silence woke Reese in the gray, predawn hours. The train had stopped. He sat up and leaned against the carved headboard.
Faith groaned sleepily, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She pushed herself up to lay her head against Reese’s chest. “What is it?” she whispered.
“The train has stopped,” he told her, absently planting a kiss against her dark hair.
“Why?”
“Listen.”
She listened. At first, she could barely make out the sound, but as it moved closer she could hear the faint, tinkling sound. “It sounds like wind chimes.” She leaned closer to the window, then turned to face Reese. “What is it?”
“A rare opportunity.” He grinned at her, his face alight with boyish pleasure. “A sight you shouldn’t miss. Come on.” He got up from the bed, slipped on his trousers, then bent to put on his socks and shoes. He retrieved his shirt from the floor and handed it to Faith. “Here. Put this on.”
She slipped her arms into his shirt, while Reese pulled a quilt and the down comforter from the bed. He handed Faith her shoes and draped the quilt around her shoulders.
“Hold on to this. We’ll need it,” he instructed, handing her the comforter before scooping her up in his arms, quilt and all.
“Where are we going?” Faith asked as he carried her out of the bedroom toward the door of the railroad car.
“Open the door and you’ll see.”
Faith did as he asked. Reese carried her outside onto the porch, into the freezing cold. She burrowed deeper inside the quilt. He walked to the chair, lowered Faith to her feet, then bent to brush the thin crust of ice off the seat with a corner of the quilt. He took the comforter from Faith, spread it across the chair, and sat down. Reese pulled Faith onto his lap, and wrapped the cover around them.
The musical sound of tiny bells grew louder. Closer.
“Look!” Reese whispered in her ear.
The sight took her breath away. The ground was covered with a foot or so of powdery white snow that glowed eerily in the gray sky. The steel rails of the track were passable, but the train couldn’t move. It was surrounded by a herd of buffalo, hundreds of them, lumbering slowly across the railroad tracks. The shaggy fur covering their massive heads, withers, and backs was topped with a layer of snow, but the fur hanging from their bellies was a solid mass of icicles, which swayed with each step.
They were so close Faith could see the misty clouds formed by their warm breath. She could hear the beasts’ labored breathing as they moved through the knee-deep snow.
“Oh, Reese.” She turned her head to kiss his jaw. “They’re magnificent!” She shifted slightly in his arms so she could see his face. “You knew when you heard the bells!”
He nodded. “I suspected.”
“You’ve seen this before?” She searched for his hand amid the folds of the quilt. She laced her fingers with his.
“Once, a long time ago.” His black eyes sparkled at the incredible beauty of the scene spread before them. “Take a good look, sweetheart. The herds are disappearing. We’ll probably never have this privilege again.”
She shivered at the sadness in his voice.
“Cold?” He nuzzled her ear and tightened his hold around her.
“Not enough to miss this,” Faith assured him.
They watched the slow migration of the herd until the last cow moved out of view. The train blew its whistle one last time, then lurched forward as the engine gathered steam. They got up from the chair and moved to the rail for a final glimpse of the bison. Then Reese lifted Faith into his arms and carried her back to bed.
He made slow, sweet love to her as the sun rose over the horizon.
Chapter Seventeen
Faith had just finished her morning bath when the train rolled into the Cheyenne sta
tion. Reese knocked on the washroom door.
“Oh, no! I’m not dressed! I look…” Faith stood beside the bathtub, her face pink from the hot water, black hair loosely piled atop her head. She had wrapped Reese’s brown velvet robe around her frame and it clung damply in places. Faith’s gray eyes sparkled with happiness. Her beautiful wide mouth was bruised and swollen from his kisses.