“But you are a major stockholder.” When Steve said nothing, Uriah Lott sat back in his chair, brows raised. “I was told that you are the man I should talk to about this, for you have influence with men like Jay Gould. Look, I’m a businessman. Railroads cannot continue operating at a loss and taking government subsidies. We both know why this has happened—track was laid too fast, shoddy rails that have had to be pulled up and relaid before the first train could even run it. Builders ignored quality and economy just to get more track laid ahead of the others so they could rake in the most government subsidy money. It’s a fact. I don’t intend to operate the same way. My tracks are going to be made of the new Bessemer steel, not iron. The rails are more durable, will support greater loads, and save money by cutting down on the number of accidents due to broken rails.”

Cigar smoke wreathed the air; the commanding officer at Fort McIntosh, Colonel Nathan Prime, summoned an enlisted man to bring more wine for Ginny, who had stubbornly refused to be relegated to a parlor with the officers’ wives and boring discussions of children and recipes.

“I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to the heat yet,” she had said politely but firmly, “and I simply must sit outside where it’s cool.”

Besides, she thought wryly, it was the only way to stay close to Steve. She was beginning to wish, however, that she had pleaded a headache and returned to their hotel, for she found Colonel Prime annoying. Must he stare at her like that, pretending that he wasn’t when she happened to glance his way?

The colonel turned back to Steve, cheeks puffed out as he sucked on his cigar, deliberately blowing smoke in her direction, Ginny was certain, to show his disapproval of a woman who did not know her proper place.

“Ah, so you know Jay Gould, Morgan? He’s quite a robber baron, I’m told. Is that why you’re in Laredo? Planning on laying railroad tracks of your own?”

“Not exactly.” Steve glanced at Ginny. “Just passing through.”

Like a dog with a bone, Lott was not to be diverted from his topic. He emphasized his points with the tip of his cigar making a glowing arc in the soft night air. “I met James J. Hill last year, and he has some most intriguing ideas. He has big plans to build a transcontinental railroad across the northern region of America. Oh, I know, they call it Hill’s Folly. But Hill has built several local railroads and he knows what he’s doing. He’s a good businessman. It’s all in the talking stage right now, but I think one day he’ll succeed in doing it.”