words, then took a deep breath. “Now we talk.”
Leo perched on the very edge of the bench with his hands tightly gripping the seat on either side of him, as if ready to run any moment. “What about?”
Trying to put him more at ease, she infused as much warmth and encouragement in her smile as she could summon. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me how you came to be on that train?”
“I snuck on board when the train stopped at Texarkana.” His tone indicated he wasn’t going to volunteer any more information than he had to.
So, he really was a stowaway. She’d had some vague notion that he might have been abandoned by his guardian once he boarded. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that this was not the case, that he’d taken this step all on his own. But at least now she had a general idea of where he’d come from. “Why did you do such a thing? Don’t you think your parents will be worried about you?”
His shoulders slumped. “My parents are dead. They passed on near about two years ago I think.” His tone was flat, matter-of-fact. “No one else is gonna care one speck about what happens to me.”
The idea that he could feel so very alone made her want to cry. She lightly touched his hand. “I’m so sorry.” But surely he hadn’t been on his own for two years. “Who’s been looking out for you since then?”
He shifted evasively. “After my folks passed on, one of the neighbors took me in.”
So he did have someone. That was a relief. Now, if she could just find out who that was and why he’d run away.
“Pardon me.”
Eve gave a little start and jerked around to find the gentleman and lady she’d noticed earlier had approached. Both wore friendly smiles.
Her heartbeat slowed and she forced herself to return those smiles even though she was anxious to get back to her conversation with Leo. “Can I do something for you?”
“Actually, that was my question.” The handsome stranger gave her a self-effacing smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your little altercation with the conductor earlier. I get the impression Turnabout wasn’t really your planned destination.” He motioned to indicate he was including the woman standing beside him. “We just wanted to make certain you two were okay before we left the building.”
So he had been watching her earlier. “That’s very kind of you, Mr....”
“Dawson.” He gave a short bow. “Chance Dawson, at your service. And this is Mrs. Epps.”
“Well, Mr. Dawson, Mrs. Epps, I thank you kindly for your concern but we’re fine.” Truth to tell, she wasn’t sure exactly what kind of help to ask for at this point. And she wouldn’t know until she finished her conversation with Leo.
“No need to be bashful,” Mrs. Epps said. “And please, call me Dotty. You’ll find Turnabout is a friendly place where folks look out for each other.”
Eve relaxed slightly and returned the woman’s smile. “I’m sure this is a lovely town.”
“Excuse me if this is a bit forward,” Mr. Dawson said, “but do you need assistance finding accommodations for your time here? I can show you where the hotel is if you like.”
Just then, rumbling sounds came from the vicinity of Leo’s stomach. Eve mentally kicked herself for her thoughtlessness. If Leo was a runaway it had probably been quite some time since he’d had a decent meal. She should have thought of feeding him right away.
Before she could say anything, Mr. Dawson chimed in with a grin. “Sounds like someone’s hungry. Why don’t you let us at least show you where you can get a bite to eat?”
Deciding that, with Mrs. Epps present, there could be no impropriety in accepting his assistance, Eve nodded. “Thank you. That would be most welcome.”
Mr. Dawson offered a hand to help her rise. “I don’t think I caught your names.”
His hand was warm and supportive. And just a little too comfortable.
She reluctantly released it as soon as she was on her feet. “I’m Eve Pickering, and my friend here is Leo.”
He executed a slight bow. “Pleased to meet you and welcome to Turnabout.” He reached for her carpet bag. “Allow me.”
She wasn’t certain how she felt about letting someone else take her bag, especially since it contained the sum total of all her earthly possessions.
But before she could form a response, he extended an arm toward the exit. “Very well then. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to Daisy’s Restaurant. Best food in town.”
Eve nodded and placed a hand on Leo’s back as she headed for the exit. They had just reached the door when the stationmaster hailed Mr. Dawson.
“Looks like you have a letter,” he said, holding up an envelope.
Mr. Dawson retrieved the letter and Eve thought she saw his expression change from mild curiosity to something stronger as he studied the envelope. But he tucked it into his pocket without bothering to open it and by the time he rejoined them at the door his expression had resumed its casual neighborliness. A curious look passed between him and Dotty, but then it was gone and he was holding the door open for them.
She wondered at his restraint. She’d never received a letter herself, but she imagined if she had that she would tear it open immediately and read the contents.
But perhaps this was an everyday occurrence for him.
As they stepped out onto the platform, Mr. Dawson turned to her. “So where have you traveled from?”
“A small town in Arkansas called Iron Bluff.” Would she ever see that place again?
“And are you traveling in order to spend Thanksgiving with friends?” Mrs. Epps asked with a smile.
That was so far from the truth as to be laughable.
Mrs. Epps must have noticed something in her expression because she grimaced. “Please forgive me for prying. You don’t have to answer. It’s just the idle curiosity of an old woman.”
“No need to apologize,” she reassured the woman. “It’s just that the truth is so mundane. I’m going to Tyler to secure employment. The fact that Thanksgiving is in two days is merely coincidence.”
“Employment?” Mr. Dawson eyed her speculatively.
This was beginning to feel like an interrogation, but she didn’t want to be rude to these strangers who were being kind. “Yes. I’m going to apprentice with a milliner there.” She tried to infuse some positive emotion in her tone. “I’ve never actually met Mrs. O’Connell, but I understand she is very well respected for her craft.”
Mrs. Epps’s expression turned to dismay. “You can’t mean to say you don’t know anyone there. Oh, no, that won’t do. My dear, Thanksgiving is meant to be spent with family and friends.”
Eve wasn’t quite certain how to respond. The thought that her new
