At Love's Bidding Read Online Free Page B

arrive . . .
    A log building appeared. A stubby rock chimney, a short platform, and a massive pile of firewood met her eye. Confused, Miranda scanned the railcar. Unlike other stops, no one seemed to notice that the train had halted. No gathering packages, no adjusting hats and buttoning overcoats. Was this their stop?
    Her grandfather’s mouth tightened. Standing, he flagged down the porter. “Excuse me. Is this Pine Gap?”
    â€œYes, sir. They’ll unload your bags to the platform. Good luck to ya.”
    Grandfather widened his stance. The unlucky porter was blocked in. “But I don’t see the town,” Grandfather said. “We’re in the middle of a wilderness.”
    â€œThe town is just around the hill, or so they say. Follow the wagon path, and you can’t miss it.”
    Grandfather’s white eyebrows lowered. Miranda snatched her shawl, her parasol, and her handbag from the seat beside her and waited for Grandfather to clear the way, but he remained immovable. The porter cleared his throat. Embarrassed, he turned to Miranda. “Does he need further assistance, or . . .”
    Or do I need to physically remove your grandfather from my path? Unfortunately she was becoming more and more used tohis strange episodes. Miranda tugged on his sleeve. “Come on, Grandfather. This is our stop.”
    His whiskers twitched, and with a last look at the forest, he propelled himself forward and out of the passenger car. Their bags emerged from the baggage car at the end of the train. The porter hopped back on board and saluted them as he rolled away, chipper now that the onerous responsibility of Elmer Wimplegate was no longer his to bear.
    The countryside was beautiful. Hills folded and tucked into each other, covered by trees and the fresh colors of spring. The area didn’t look to be inhabited at all, but perhaps it was a resort area where the rich and mighty brought their families to escape the pollution of the city. No limit to the number of mansions that could be hidden away in the valley. Or that’s what Miranda was going to believe until she had proof otherwise.
    High overhead an eagle circled. Or was it a vulture? Miranda took a step closer to Grandfather. Either way, they needed to find accommodations. Although Grandfather burned bright all day, by evening Miranda could spot the signs of fatigue. The travel was taking its toll on the elderly man.
    From the log depot stepped a man with his dusty coat swinging open, and the laces of his high boots untied. He grunted a greeting and then turned to lock the door behind him.
    â€œExcuse me, young man.” Grandfather strode with his cane flashing. “We’ve just arrived from Boston and were wondering if you’ve received any luggage or packages from there recently?”
    His face bristled in annoyance as he took quick measure of them. “Are you missing something?”
    â€œYes, we are. I’m afraid we had a package sent ahead of us, but it was misaddressed. If anything arrives from Boston, couldyou please notify us? I’m not sure where we’ll be staying or how we’ll get to town—”
    â€œYou won’t be hard to track down, but I ain’t seen nothing from Boston.” He whistled, and a dog with lanky legs and a scarred coat jogged out of the woods.
    Grandfather cleared his throat, although his voice already trumpeted strong. “But we need assistance. We must have accommodations for the night.”
    â€œI reckon everyone does, but be careful who you share a roof with. There’s them in these hills that don’t cotton to strangers. The town is just over the hill yonder. Head up that road there . . .”
    At the pointing end of his gesture, they spotted a wagon rolling toward them. Miranda sighed. Not a carriage, just a bundle of boards nailed together over some wheels. The driver of the wagon had his sleeves rolled up and his striped