“How long are you going to keep ignoring me?” she asked the moment the door was secure.

His shoulders tensed, and he took a deep breath. “Caroline, let’s not do this,” he said, still not turning around.

“Are we really going to pretend that nothing happened last night? Because I can’t live beside you every day and act like we’re strangers. I can’t.”

At last he turned. “You’re the toughest woman I know. Of course you can.”

She didn’t feel tough. She’d come on this trip because Nathaniel promised she could lean on him. Every mile they traveled from Washington increased the vague sense of panic that kept her on edge. Luke’s pneumonia could take a turn for the worse and kill him within hours, and she wouldn’t even know until they pulled into their next stop.

“There was an extra space at my table tonight. You could have joined me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She stiffened. “You said that when I was nervous or afraid, you would be there for me. That you’d clear a path for me and guard my back. Mrs. Foster has been throwing darts at me for hours, and you can’t take your attention off your precious lobster.”

“You’re being irrational,” he said, clipped formality woven through every speck of his posture, voice, and expression. “I’ll be there for you when times get tough, but for the day to day, I need to keep my distance.”

A knock on the door interrupted them, but it was only Mr. Medina peeking through the window, so she gestured for him to leave and turned her attention back to Nathaniel.

“Can’t you at least look at me? Smile at me like a normal human who has blood in his veins and an actual beating heart?”

“I take my duties seriously.”

“To the president. To the train porters. To fake Vermeers and rigid schedules and the lobster dinner.”

“It was fresh lobster,” he defended.

“I should matter to you more than lobster!” she shouted.

The door handle wiggled and the pounding continued, but she didn’t care.

“You need to restrain yourself,” he said. “I can’t do my duty when you’re flinging yourself at me.”

“You didn’t mind last night,” she said. The memory of the blazing sunset while they clung together on the roof still made her heart pound.

The banging on the door became incessant, and Nathaniel used it as an excuse to leave her and yank it open.

“What?” he demanded.

Mr. Medina twisted his cap in his hands. “The intercom line is open. Everyone in the dining car can hear what you’re saying.”

Caroline gasped. She’d been pouring her heart out in front of the McKinleys and the staff and that horrible congressman’s wife?