Chapter 8: Separate Advances
Jim stood in the gravel of the rail bed, squinting up at the clear blue sky. It was still early morning but the sun's brightness was already oppressive. He watched Lori jump down to the ground from the steps of the slow moving train. "I see you've been into my bureau," he said as she approached. He looked at her shoes, making sure they were tied on snug to her feet, and then studied the pants she wore, his soft cotton pants. The hems were rolled up and tucked to keep them off the ground. His eyes strayed higher to his button-up cotton shirt she was wearing. A tighter undershirt underneath showed at the neckline.
"Your clothes are so comfortable and light," she said, stroking her hands down her thighs, smoothing the material. "I figured since I was wearing your shoes, I might as well go with the entire outfit." She paused to look at his legs, giggling, "and what are you wearing? Looks like you were attacked by a rabid animal."
"What?" He said, looking at his legs. His pants were cut off just above the knees, showing his muscular thighs and calves. One pant leg was longer than the other and both were cut at an angle with loose threads hanging everywhere. "I had old pants and hacked the legs off. Cooler." He squinted at the train as it pulled away from them, gliding slowly over the rails. "We better get moving before we are left behind. Have you ever run any distance before?"
"Oh, many times," she said, as they both started a slow jog. "Never along a rail road track though. Too difficult to run on the ties and ours in the east where my parents live went through the woods so there wasn't space on the sides. But the land has trails and back roads where no one bothers me."
"Bothers you?" Jim asked, stealing a sideways glance at her. "Do people bother you when you're running or just all the time in general?" The sun was already hot on his skin and sweat was starting to drizzle down his face.
"We are discussing running," Lori said, "I can't run in Washington DC; I would be arrested for indecent exposure. Do you know there's a law against women wearing pants? It's crazy! Most of the police know me now but at first, they kept trying to arrest me for not wearing a dress! Colonel Richmond had to speak to the Chiefs of some precincts to ask them to leave me alone."
Jim burst out laughing, "I know that law and was wondering how you got around it. It's called dressing outside of your gender or sex or something like that." He looked at her again, as she jogged easily next to him, "you don't know the police in San Francisco and I doubt the Colonel contacted anyone. Did you bring a dress? I am not walking the streets with you when you're dressed like that."
"Who said you're walking the streets with me," Lori said, sending him a quick glare.
He shook his head, "Colonel Richmond did. I am supposed to be watching out for you and bring you back, both of you, in one piece. It would be easier if you cooperated with me."
"I'm cooperating," she said, picking up her pace. Jim easily matched it, watching her, as they ran side by side silently for a few minutes.
"So tell me about this farm you grew up on," he said, changing the subject. "Large, small, tobacco, corn…" he paused, waiting for her to speak.
"My parents' farm," she said quietly, "it's larger than some and smaller than others. They grow corn, grains, hay," she paused, thinking, "everything except tobacco. My parents don't like smoking and didn't want to make money from it." Jim nodded, keeping her pace. "My brothers run it now but my father still does some work outside. The oldest lives in the house and will inherit most of it. The second oldest is good with the tools and equipment and keeps everything working. My two youngest brothers work the fields and chase the neighborhood girls." Jim laughed but didn't comment. "And how about you? You didn't grow up on a farm."
Jim ran a few steps before answering, "No, it wasn't a farm. My father always had horses in the fields but it was just a house and barns. My father worked for the government in an office so we lived a short ride outside of Washington. He was a civilian assistant in the war veteran's office."
"Was he a veteran?" Lori asked, curious.
"Yes, he had been an officer in the Mexican war and was wounded," Jim said, "He had a bad leg. He could ride horses but had a difficult time walking. But he went into the city every day and worked in his office. I don't think he ever missed a day of work. I used to go with him and then ran around the city."
"City boy," Lori laughed quietly. "And what do your brothers do?"
Jim took a deep breath, "the oldest, Edward, is a lawyer. And the middle brother, Michael, is a doctor. They live in Washington too. I see them occasionally but this job keeps me pretty busy."
"A doctor and a lawyer?" Lori said, sounding impressed, "they must be very smart. And here you are, just a lonely secret agent." Jim snorted. "Do you tell people what you do? I have said I protect female dignitaries and visitors; keep it simple."
"I thought that was all you did anyway," Jim said, surprised, "and in Washington. Richmond said this was your first job outside of the city. Do you chase people down and arrest them too?" He noticed she was smiling and waited for more details. "Just women though, right," he prompted again.
"You are the worst," she laughed, punching his shoulder. "I arrest people, men and women."
"How can you possibly arrest a man?" Jim said, looking down her slim frame. Lori glared at him and increased her speed again, pulling ahead. Jim easily increased his speed again but was content to follow her, enjoying the view of her moving in front of him.
Meanwhile….in the galley…
"I do have this memorized," Artie said, smiling to Christian, "but I also have it printed in a cook book." He handed Christian a small book with a light brown cover speckled with dark stains.
The dark haired girl opened the book and flipped the pages. "Wait," she said, smiling down at him as he squatted in front of a low cupboard. He moved pots around, banging them together and muttering. "I think this is in Italian?" She moved a delicate index finger along the words, "And you have notes on the edges that are in French?"
Artie stood, holding a frying pan and a tall pot, and smiled, "I tend to cook in French, no matter what I'm making. If you can read my writing, it may help you understand the Italian words. The languages are very close, you will pick it quickly. He put the pan on the stove and moved to the sink to add water to the pot. "Did you find the lasagna recipe? I can tell you what to do but I thought you might like to refer to it." He moved to put the pot onto the stove behind the pan and opened the front fire box, adding more kindling. "Have you eaten a variety of Italian dishes?" He stood again and cleaned the wood chips off his vest.
"Oh, I think so," Christian said, her blue eyes moving from the book to look up at him. "We have friends that own restaurants in the city so we eat everything and anything. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?"
"You sound like starving gypsies," Artie said, stepping closer to her. He reached out to place his palms underneath her elbows, gently pulling her towards him. "You do have a home, right? A place to sleep at night that's safe, behind a locked door?"
She smiled up at him, resting her free hand on his chest. "Yes, of course we do. We aren't penniless orphans sleeping in an alley. You don't have to worry about me," her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Hmm," Artie sighed, "that's what Jim says to me too. Doesn't seem to help." They both jumped apart as a clatter of pans fell to the floor behind them. "What in heaven's name…" Artie said, moving around the girl, to see Sophie on the counter. The kitten meowed loudly and looked at the doorway into the hall. "Speaking of worrying," Artie laughed, "this little girl worries more than me when Jim isn't on the train." He reached down to scoop up the kitten. "Want to see Jim? Let's go find him, sweetie." He held the tiny animal to his face and kissed her fur as he walked through the train. "She worries until he comes back on board, even when I show her where he is." Christian smiled as she followed him to the formal door at the back of the varnish car.
"Hey, Jim," Artie said, opening the door. He and Christian stepped out onto the rear landing to watch Jim and Lori jog along the tracks. "Someone was missing you." He held Sophie so the kitten could see them. The tiny tail flickered and she yowled even louder. Jim laughed and shook his head, waving at them. "See, Sophie, he's right there. He'll be back on board soon." He patted the kitten's head, and turned to go back inside.
"That's the most spoiled kitten in the history of domestic cats," Christian said, smiling. "Stop fooling around and let's get cooking." She turned and walked back into the train. Artie paused, watching her thin body move across the room ahead of him.
"Sophie," he whispered to the cat as he shut the door behind him, "you need to entertain yourself for a bit and stay out of the kitchen. I have need to heat some things up," he whispered, setting her onto the couch and hurrying to the galley.
Later that morning…..
The train whistle interrupted their conversation with a jolt. Jim's eyes darted to the back of the varnish car as the train accelerated. "Dammit, run!" he yelled, sprinting down the tracks. His legs pumped as his leather shoes pounded the ground. He quickly gained on the train and ran past the side steps. He reached his left hand out toward the brass handle attached to the side of the wooden exterior wall, and with a quick leap, he grabbed the handle and pulled his body up. His feet landed firmly on the lowest most step and he twisted to look behind him. His right hand reached out toward Lori but she wasn't there. He looked down the tracks and saw her running toward him.
"Wait for me," she called out breathlessly, her eyes glued to him.
"Well hurry up," Jim snapped, grinning at her. "You need to move faster." He waved a hand to her but could see she wasn't going to make it. He looked around the front of the train, knowing what was coming soon, and glanced back to her. "Come on, girl, you said you could run as fast as me! Let's see it happen!" He waved again and was relieved to see her face flush with anger as her feet sped up. He leaned out as far as he could, holding his right hand toward her while maintaining his grip with his left.
"Almost," she gasped.
"No talking," he interrupted, yelling now, "this train needs to speed up to make the incline. Move Faster!" He stretched another inch, reaching toward her, feeling the muscles in his shoulders stretching. "Come on! If I have to jump down and walk up this hill with you…!" Lori gave a loud growl and increased her speed. She reached her left hand out and Jim grabbed her forearm, pulling her up off the ground. She grabbed his shoulder with her right hand too as he twisted her toward the steps. He pushed her up to the landing and against the rear wall.
"Oh," she cried out, pulling her arm out of his grip. "Ouch." She leaned back, bracing her back against the wall. Her hands rested on the front of his sweat soaked white shirt.
"Sorry," he whispered, his face inches from her's. He moved his arms to encircle her waist and keep a firm grip on the brass handle at the top of the steps. "I didn't want to pull you apart but you needed to get onto the train." He paused, worried, as she covered her mouth with one hand. "Are you alright?"
"I'm trying not to throw up on you," she gasped between her fingers.
Jim backed up an inch but still surrounded her with his body. "Please don't," he said, grinning at her. Suddenly the door opened next to them and Artie's face appeared.
"You made it," he said, "good. Doing ok?" He leaned out to look at Lori.
"I think she's just a little winded," Jim said, watching the girl. "Maybe some water would help?" Artie nodded and shut the door. "We can move in just a minute, the train is about to go up a steep incline and we should just stay right here." He was relieved when she didn't argue, for once. The train's engine started to chug, making the platform jerk ahead as it titled upwards. Jim braced his feet as Lori fell against his chest. "Hold onto me," he whispered into her ear, as they leaned against each other.
"Shouldn't we be inside the car?" She whispered her hands slipping down his sides to his hips.
"We would be inside if you had moved faster," he whispered. "And there is another surprise for you too," he paused, as they plunged into darkness. "Tunnel."
"Yes, I noticed," Lori said, leaning sideways to look at the receding oval of light. "How far is this tunnel? I've never been outside of a train in a tunnel." She twisted to look at the sides of the carved stone passing on either side. "This is a really long tunnel!"
"Not long enough," Jim whispered, leaning closer to her neck, gently touching his lips to her jawline. He felt her stiffen in his arms and he waited, half expecting to feel her hands striking him. When she didn't move, he slid his lips along her lower jaw to her earlobe. He chanced a kiss behind her ear and moved to her neck, holding her tighter. He paused again as he felt her body shaking. "Are you alright," he said, leaning back again so he could see her face.
"Really?" she laughed, shaking her head at him. Her face was flushed again, "You really think this is a romantic moment? Sticky sweat, in a musty tunnel, on the back of your train?"
Jim let out a long sigh, his voice having an edge to it now, "I admit dinner at a nice restaurant would be more romantic, but this is all I have at the moment." Light blasted them again as the train emerged from the tunnel into the bright western sky. "And we're out," he said, squinting at her.
Just then the door popped open again, "here you are," Artie said, stepping into the doorway with two glasses and a pitcher of water. Lori quickly stepped past Jim as he lowered his arm, grabbing the glasses. She walked to the other side of the platform and sat down, crossed legged. Artie handed the pitcher to Jim, whispering, "drink slow and stay outside for a while." With a wink, he shut the door. Jim shook his head and sat down opposite the girl. She held out the glasses while he poured.
"Beautiful view out here," she said, looking over the wide open land. "Are we in Arizona?"
"Yes," Jim said, watching her. "And I agree the view is very nice." He tipped his glass at her as she glared back at him. "Drink up. You must be parched." He emptied his glass and set it between his feet. He leaned his back against the brass railing and stretched his legs out toward the door.
"Sorry but I am dying of this heat." She pulled the buttoned shirt off, leaving only the tight fitting white undershirt, and began wiping the sweat off her chest and down her arms.
Jim watched, surprised and amused. "You certainly do not act like other women I've met." His eyes slowly moved across her chest and down to her waist before going back to study her hair as it fell around her face.
"But I bet I look like them," Lori said, noticing where his eyes were going, "we are all made the same." She stopped wiping and drank deeply from the glass. When she emptied it, she leaned back, closing her eyes.
"Actually," Jim said, leaning closer, and reaching a hand out to touch her upper arm with a finger, "you are not. You have real muscles. I have never seen a woman with muscular arms." He ran his finger down the length of her arm to rest on the back of her hand. When she didn't move, or even look at him, he sat back, confused but still impressed. "Must be the farm life," he sighed, refilling the glasses. "No, Lori, you will take some studying. You are very different from the women I have met." He noticed a smile at the corners of her mouth and grinned. He leaned back against the rails again and returned to enjoying his view.
tbc