keep your eyes open."
"I'm sure your friend is doing just fine. Don't worry. Cooper will
keep her safe."
"You really think so? " "Yes, " he insisted. "Now stop worrying.
Knowing Cooper, he's probably already taught her how to play poker.
I'll bet she's having the time of her life." /ebecca was going
stir-crazy. She thought she would go out of her mind if she had to
stay locked inside the tiny compartment with Marshal Cooper much
longer. As attractive and attentive as he was, he was still driving
her to distraction. He did try to make the time pass quickly.
They played cards for several hours, chatted, and ate a boxed lunch the
porter fetched for them. Boredom set in then, and all she wanted was
to be left alone for a few minutes. In desperation, she finally came
up with a plausible reason to send him away. She asked him to please
fetch her brown suitcase the porter had put in the luggage compartment
so that she could get her medicine. Pleading a headache, she insisted
that if she didn't drink her tonic before the pain intensified, she
would have to leave the train at the next town and take to her bed.
She felt guilty lying to him because he was being so sympathetic and
understanding.
"I know I should have packed the medicine in my little valise, but I
forgot."
"Is the pain bad? " Cooper asked, his concern apparent.
"It's becoming unbearable, " she replied. "If I don't nip it now, I'll
be sick for a week. The pain becomes blinding." Cooper couldn't have
been any more solicitous. After promising to hurry, he told her to
bolt the door after him, and she did exactly that.
Then she stood in the center of the claustrophobic cubicle and let out
a blissful sigh because she finally had the room to herself and it was
so wonderfully quiet. She needed time alone to think about the future
and formulate her plans. Lord only knew, there was so much to be done
in such a short time.
She expected Cooper to be gone at least fifteen minutes and probably
more. The luggage compartment was three cars away, and once he'd made
his way there, he would have to search through the baggage to find
hers.
Yet, less than a minute after he had left, a knock sounded at the
door.
"Now what? " she muttered, assuming that the marshal had thought of
yet another order to give her before he went on the errand. She forced
a smile back on her face, flipped the bolt, and opened the door a
crack.
The door seemed to explode against the interior wall, then bounced
back. She couldn't even scream. All she saw as she staggered backward
was the barrel of a gleaming black pistol. It was pointed at her.
She fell on the bench, clutching her bosom. Panting with fear, she
cried out, "What are you doing here? " In answer, the gunman rushed
inside and kicked the door shut behind him. He was dressed in a dark
business suit and wore shiny black shoes.