Chapter 3

Jarrod and Beth enjoyed breakfast together as the train rolled along the countryside in Ohio and into eastern Indiana, but they spent most of the time looking at each other, not so much the scenery. They didn't part company at all. They spent the time watching the scenery, talking about Beth's plans for Denver, talking about California and even a little about the war. Dinnertime came and they dined together again, and as far as sleeping was concerned – Beth in her Pullman and Jarrod in his private car were both smiling as they fell asleep.

The next morning the train was rumbling through Illinois as they had breakfast together. When the train pulled into Chicago, they fetched Beth's bag and took it to Jarrod's car, so she wouldn't have to worry about it making the move to the train heading to Denver. That was when she got her first look at a private car.

It was beautiful, like the most elegant parlor she had ever seen. There was a partition that Jarrod said cordoned off the sleeping area. Jarrod put Beth's bag down next to the settee in the living area, just as the train lunged to a halt. They both rocked a bit, and Beth lost her balance for a moment. Jarrod caught her in his arms.

"I never was the most nimble person on my feet," she said as the train stopped and he set her right again.

"Why don't we detrain?" Jarrod asked. "They'll be separating this car and attaching it to the train going west, and that's not an exercise I enjoy either. We can take a walk outside and have an early lunch at the Palmer House."

Jarrod took her by the hand – they had held hands everywhere they went this morning. "The Palmer House," Beth said. "Don't I remember reading it burned in the fire?"

"It did," Jarrod said as they left the car and climbed down onto the platform. "But it's recovered and reopened, and I enjoy it and most of all, trust it. You do have to be careful eating out in Chicago. Some places are just opening up and things can be a little – " He struggled for a word and came up with "uncertain."

As they walked together into the station, Beth said, "I guess you've been here enough to know your way around."

"Pretty much," Jarrod said, "though since it's still really rebuilding, it's different every time I come here. Let's walk across the river and down toward the lake. We can take in the new buildings and then stop for lunch."

Jarrod gave Beth as grand a tour as he could come up with. They walked together and he pointed out the buildings he hadn't seen the last time he was here because they hadn't been built yet. He explained about how devastating the fire was, wiping out all the restaurants except for five. The Palmer House had just opened before it burned down, but it was rebuilt and had reopened and was reputed to be the best in town.

The sky was clear and beautiful, and the notorious Chicago wind was on the calm side, so they could stroll comfortably together. When it came time for lunch, they ate slowly, comfortably, talking more about their lives, their families. That was when Beth brought up Andrew. "My fiance," she said.

Jarrod was startled for a moment.

But then Beth said, "He was killed in the war, at Gettysburg. I was very young. When he went off I didn't understand how serious the situation was. A war was just an abstract concept to me, some foolish, glorious enterprise I didn't really understand. Something he would come home from. But he didn't come home. I was only 16 when he died – he was 19. I didn't even really get the chance to say good-bye."

Jarrod took her hand, concerned that it brought such darkness to her eyes. He really didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

Beth looked up at him. "Were you at Gettysburg?" she asked.

Jarrod shook his head. "I was wounded at Antietam and reassigned to Washington, to army intelligence." His own eyes grew dark. He did not want to remember Julia Saxon, not now.

"You were away from the fighting then," Beth said.

Jarrod nodded. "For a while. I went back into action after Gettysburg. I commanded a cavalry unit of negro soldiers in Virginia, was wounded again and then I was wounded twice more near the end of the war." He smiled a little. "I guess they realized I was attracting too much fire and were about to send me back to Washington, but the war ended anyway while I was recovering the second time."

"You were away from home for a long time," Beth said.

"Four years," Jarrod said, "and then I went to law school and was away for three more. I was a boy when I left to go off to war. All grown up when I came back from law school." He gave thought for a while and then said, "I'm so sorry you lost your fiance in the war. You should have had a happy marriage and babies and everything a woman like you should have."

Beth blushed a little. Things were getting so personal between them, but it didn't seem awkward, not really. It seemed natural. It seemed like he made her want to talk about things she could never talk about before. "I was devastated once it sank in. I just could never bring myself to look at a man the same way – afraid he'd go away and die like Andrew did, I suppose. So, after a time, I decided to teach school. I needed to support myself, after all. I do love children. And I wasn't finding a husband to support me."

"You stopped looking because of what happened to Andrew," Jarrod said.

Beth nodded. And she looked at Jarrod again.

He said, "The same sort of thing happened to me. I fell in love in Washington but the war crushed it out, even though the girl I fell in love with wasn't killed. It was a different situation. I found out what she wanted from me was information, not love."

Beth said, "I'm sorry. And there hasn't been anyone else since?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Not really. Not someone I could be myself with, and maybe I let myself get too wrapped up in my work. Intentionally. To avoid it."

"To avoid the risk," Beth said.

Jarrod nodded. "And then I took that bullet in the back a few months ago. It changed my whole outlook. I think I was meant to come on this trip not to help make a new law, but to make a new me. To find a new future. Maybe to find you, Beth."

"Funny," she said. "I'm beginning to think the same thing is happening to me."

XXXXXXX

When the train pulled out of Chicago and began to wind its way through the Great Plains, neither Jarrod nor Beth wanted to part company at all, at any time. They went to Jarrod's private car and watched the sun set through the windows, sitting together and holding hands, talking about sunsets they had seen before, the colors and the clouds. They took wine together there before dinner and went to the dining car together at seven, enjoying their food and each other until it came time for bed. Jarrod walked Beth to her car then, and again he kissed her hand good night before he returned to his own car.

He had trouble falling asleep this time, though. He felt an ache, very deep inside, that kept him awake. He knew right away it was the ache of not having Beth beside him. All right, so they had just met, but it felt so right being with her, and it wasn't just the overall joy of being alive after his battle with that terrible bullet wound. It was real. It was the joy of being with her, with Beth. Beth Randall. Elizabeth Randall. For the first time, he thought, Elizabeth Randall Barkley.

Then he quickly thought it was far too early to be thinking that way. She was going to be leaving the train late the next night in Denver, and then – what? Could they carry on the intimacy and delight they were creating with one another even if they were a thousand miles apart? Or was it all going to melt away as soon as she got off the train and he continued on alone?

In the middle of the night, Jarrod got up, donned his robe and slippers and stepped out of the back of the train. As it chugged along, he looked up at the sky, craning his neck at times to find and see the North Star. Beth's star. He knew now he would always think of it that way. Whenever he looked at it, he would see her, the woman he had grown so attached to in fewer than three days, the woman he felt so right with. The first woman he had felt that right with since Julia – and even more right than he had felt with Julia.

Jarrod hurt at the thought that tomorrow night might be the end of their time together. He started to think that he ought to back away a bit, to protect his heart, because there wasn't much chance they could keep what they had just created if they were so far apart. But then, hadn't he been protecting his heart for far too long? When he recovered from that bullet in the back that nearly took his life, didn't he realize that along with his life beginning again, his ability to love had to begin again, too?

Jarrod looked up at the stars, at that North Star that said her name over and over to him. He wondered what tomorrow would bring, and what he wanted it to bring.