He put his arms around her and held her close, and she knew that he didn’t trust himself to speak.

When the train pulled in, Jamie was still holding her, and she was praying that he would change his mind and let her stay. Instead, he gave her a lingering kiss, jumped to the ground, and extended his arms to her.

It was all a blur, the last good-bye. Peony was emotional and Bliss felt frozen inside. She allowed Reeve to help her onto the train, along an aisle, into a seat beside a window.

“It’s all for the best, lass,” her brother-in-law assured her, but his voice sounded sad, as though he might be inclined to shed a few tears himself if he’d had the privacy for it.

Peony sat down in the seat across the aisle, her handkerchief pressed to her eyes, and one or two other passengers found their places as the whistle shrieked a farewell to the little town huddled beside the railroad tracks.

Reeve took Bliss’s hand awkwardly into his and patted it. “You’ll like Maggie,” he said, in a touching effort to console her. “For all that she’s a Yank, she’s not ’ard to put up with.”

Bliss nodded, unable to respond, and looked out through the sooty glass window. Steam billowed past and, through it, she saw Jamie climb back into the seat of his wagon and take the reins into his hands.

Bliss laid her fingers to her lips and pressed them to the glass, whispering a soundless, “Good-bye.”

Jamie touched the brim of his hat in a farewell of his own, and then the train was moving steadily away from the station. Soon, Bliss couldn’t see him anymore.

Chapter 22

THE FARM HAD NEVER SEEMED SO EMPTY OR SO ISOLATED AS IT DID when Jamie returned to it that day. If he’d had anywhere else to go, he might have driven right on past.

As it was, Dog came bounding out to the road to meet the wagon, and there was smoke curling from a couple of the chimneys. Jamie reined in the team and pushed the brake lever down with an automatic motion of his left leg, grinning as the sheepdog gave a yip of delight and bounded up into the bed of the wagon.

“’Ello, you worthless old ‘Ound,” Jamie said, as Dog gave a short, joyous bark. When they reached the barn, Cutter was waiting to help unhitch the team, a pipe between his teeth.

“Dog and me,” he began gruffly, “we thought you might be needin’ a mate or two right about now.”

Jamie nodded and got down from the wagon. He felt all raw and broken inside, as though something vital had been dragged out of him, thoroughly crushed, and then stuffed back into place.

The two men worked in silence for the next few minutes, taking care of the team. Cutter hung up the harness and Jamie led the two horses to their stalls and gave them food and water.