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about Forbidden Quest:
Maria boards a train to escape her cruel and dangerous husband-to-be. When a violent accident occurs, she finds it difficult to heal both her body, and a damaged reputation that requires her to take a job in a house of ill repute. When she meets handsome rancher, Josh Lange, she can't decide if he's her savior or another complication.
Two days later, she packed her satchel carefully and stepped from the train into the Chicago terminal. She had never seen so many people in one place before. She took in the huge building, the high ceilings and the ornate woodwork. It was beautiful. She walked to the nearest ticket counter.
“May I help you?” inquired the tall young man behind the counter.
He was very thin with blond hair and blue eyes. He had a pencil thin mustache that barely showed. Maria resisted the temptation to giggle.
“How much will it cost to purchase a ticket for a private Pullman to Denver?”
The ticket agent flipped through a small book next to him and told her the amount.
Maria debated for a moment. If she took a train to Denver, she would be left with only enough money for food and maybe a room for a week or so.
Deciding, she nodded. “That would be fine. When does the train leave?” She pushed the money across the smooth counter to him.
“It’ll leave in about an hour.” He gave her the change and directed her toward the train.
When it was time to board, the porter directed her to the right car. She boarded the train and walked down the narrow, dark aisle until she found the door to her room. Stepping inside, she closed and locked the door behind her.
She looked around the room at her lavish surroundings. Beautiful dark blue velvet drapes hung at each side of the window at the opposite wall and matching velvet pulled back on both sides of the small bed, which was to her left. In the corner to the right of the window was a stove about two feet high and only about a foot wide. Next to the stove stood a coal bucket filled with coal. Wood was placed neatly next to that in its own carrier. A small table with one overstuffed chair, upholstered in the same velvet, stood in front of the window. Pulling a door open to her right, she discovered a small but functional water closet.
After lunch, she returned to her room, retrieving the drawing pad from her small satchel, concentrating on drawing the woodlands and farms the train passed.
In the afternoon on the second day of the trip, Maria caught the acrid smell of smoke. Looking out the window, she saw black smoke billowing up and flames dancing toward the sky in hues of orange, red and yellow. The fire grew larger as it consumed more prairie grass and raced toward the train. The wind was blowing from the south as it pushed the fire ahead of it, burning in an ever-widening path. Terrified animals ran ahead of the blaze as smoke darkened the sky to dusk, obscuring the sun completely.
Someone knocked on her door. “It’s the conductor, Ma’am.”
She opened the door.
He tipped his hat. “Don’t worry, Miss. The fire’ll go behind us. We’ll outrun this one.”
This one? She’d read about prairie fires, but never imagined they were this large or fast. As the train moved farther west, the fire overtook the tracks behind them. Like a voracious animal, it consumed everything in its path. Returning to the table and her drawing pad, she sketched the fire. It was incredibly destructive, and she tried to recreate its awesome power in her drawing.
The train stopped in small towns to take on water and coal and more passengers. Maria watched children running as the train pulled out, small cherubs who delighted in racing the locomotive. They were laughing and waving. Maria waved back, but soon they became tiny dots on the horizon as the train picked up speed, leaving them behind. They were happy urchins who didn’t seem to have a worry in the world.
Oh, how she wished she hadn’t been so naïve about Tomas, and had listened to her father. She’d thought she was in love, but her father had been right, something she learned too late.
She’d overheard her father talk of the murder of the man who operated the bakery next door to his restaurant. He’d been found at his bakery with a knife jutting out of his chest. Maria’s father had said only that it was the work of thieves. He was terribly upset, but she knew he’d been very fond of the old man and his wife.
After that, when he left for work, her father never left at the same time nor walked the same route. It never occurred to her that her strong, loving father was afraid of anything, not until she overheard the conversation.
Tomas was talking to Marco Carcone, known as Marco the Wolf in Little Italy. She had heard he was a boss in the Black Hand. People were afraid of him. Even Tomas deferred to him. He was short, fat, had bulging, dark eyes, puffy jowls and greasy, black hair that was perpetually disheveled. He almost always wore a too small black bowler that appeared to perch atop his head.
Tomas said, “He wouldn’t pay, and he was warned. Now, his widow pays every month. She wants to live.” She could hear them laughing, congratulating each other.
That’s when Maria knew. He’d killed that lovely old gentleman for money. A man who never hurt anybody in his life, who went out of his way to help people. Now she knew why her father disliked Tomas so. Her fiancé was a member of the Black Hand. Only they murdered with such impunity. If she hadn’t thought she was in love with the tall, dashing Tomas, maybe she would’ve guessed.
Bravely, she’d confronted him about the conversation she’d heard. Tomas laughed at her. She had thrown her engagement ring in his face. Enraged, he’d grabbed her by the hair, yanking it so hard she cried out. Furious, she’d twisted in spite of the pain and kicked him in the shin. With a yelp, he let go. She ran then, all the way to her own house, slamming and locking the door.
As Tomas pounded on the door, swearing in his native Sicilian, she ran to a small cabinet under the sink, squeezing in as she heard a window break. Waiting in silence, the only sounds her pounding heart and his heavy footsteps as Tomas searched one room after another. She heard him walk into the kitchen. She waited but heard nothing but silence. No, she could hear heavy breathing from the exertion. It was closer now.
The door jerked open, and Tomas leered at her. Grabbing her arm as she screamed, he pulled her out of the cabinet to a standing position. “I’ll teach you not to eavesdrop.”
He hit her in the jaw, sending her sprawling to the floor. “There’s more where that came from. Your father’s not here to save you, you spoiled brat. You’ll learn how to behave.”
Tasting blood from her split lip, tears ran down her face as she yelled at him. “I’ll never marry you. Never.”
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