In The Lawman's Protection. Janie Crouch
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like it, he could tell. But when her eyes rested on Philip it was in distaste. When they rested on him it was in...fear.
Either he was projecting his intent in some way he wasn’t aware of, or Natalie was very astute. Regardless, he was going to need to handle her with the utmost care if he was going to get her to trust him.
“Um...” She bit on her lip.
Ren gave her a friendly smile. “I understand. Just hang on a second and let me make a call up to the conductor.” There was a phone near the front of the car that allowed passengers to make calls to the train officials if needed. Train officials that were all, for the most part, Omega Sector agents for this journey. “We can get this sorted out so you don’t have to worry.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No, it’s fine. If you don’t mind giving up your seat, it would be fine with me if you sit here.”
Ren raised an eyebrow at Philip. “Okay with you?”
Philip looked over at Natalie and shrugged. “Your loss.” Then got up and sauntered over to Ren’s seats.
Philip winked at Ren as he followed him and grabbed his stuff. Ren gave the younger man a little nod. So far, everything was going as planned. Hopefully Ren’s gesture of help would soften Natalie slightly toward him.
A few moments later he had his papers and laptop in hand and moved to the set of seats facing Natalie. He chose the seat near the aisle so both of them could stretch their legs without hitting each other.
She gave him a soft smile. Looking at her like this for the first time—not a photograph of her or through a recording device—Ren was almost struck dumb by her beauty. Straight blond hair that was in a braid that fell over her shoulder, wide crystal-blue eyes.
Lips so full and pouty they made him forget for a moment that she was most likely working with a man who had killed multiple innocent people and planned to continue.
No matter how angelic she looked—whatever air of innocence and fragility she gave off—Ren could not forget she was the enemy.
He smiled at her. “I promise, no talking.”
She gave a little laugh. “You don’t have a sandwich you’re going to wave in my face, do you?”
“No, left all my sandwich weapons at home.”
“Ah, hope we’re not ambushed, then, or else you won’t be much help.” She gestured toward his computer. “I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks again for the rescue.”
She turned back to the window but Ren could see her checking him out in the reflection. And once it got dark she didn’t have the excuse to stare out it anymore. She just sat there for a long time, looking at her hands folded in her lap.
“Do you not get cell coverage on your phone out here?” he finally asked. He could understand if she didn’t want to contact Freihof, but surely there was something more interesting to do than just stare at her hands.
Her eyes flew to his. “I’m sorry?”
“People are on their phones all the time. It’s unusual to see someone without one these days. I thought maybe yours just doesn’t have coverage.”
She shifted a little in her seat. “Oh, yeah. That’s it. No coverage.”
“No games or anything? E-reader?”
She shifted again, looking away. “My phone...isn’t working right. So, not having coverage doesn’t matter. And it’s not much use for anything else.”
He gave her his friendliest smile. “Going to be a long trip without anything to do. Or maybe you just prefer paper books?”
That got him a real smile. “Actually, I love paper books. But I didn’t have a chance to buy any before I left.”
“Sudden trip or are you like me, a last-minute packer?”
She relaxed just the slightest bit. “A little of both, I guess. Wasn’t planning on taking the train, but the bus was full.”
Ren nodded. “Yeah, the strike. What a mess.” He shut his computer, watching to see if she would tense and turn away, pleased when she didn’t. “I suppose you’re going to mock me now.”
Those blue eyes flew to his. “I am? Why?”
“Because of my fear of flying. I just can’t stand the thought of being in an airplane. Therefore, my life involves a lot of buses, driving or, in this case, trains.”
“What do you do?”
“I have a sheep and dairy farm in Montana.”
Damn it, where the hell had that come from? A small auto parts store owner in Saint Louis. That was supposed to be his cover, something nondescript and not very memorable.
Why the hell had he told her the truth? He did have a sheep and dairy farm in Montana. His parents and brother lived and worked there. Ren had been itching to get back there himself.
But he definitely had not been planning to tell his suspect about it.
“Oh, wow, like cows and sheep?” She sounded a little excited before laughing harshly at herself. “Of course cows and sheep. I’m an idiot.”
“Nah, don’t say that. But yes, cows and sheep. We sell wool to some boutique stores out in California and across the country.”
Damn it, more truth. But he was committed to it now, so he’d have to stick with it.
“That’s pretty interesting. I’ve always loved animals, but...”
Only when it became obvious she wasn’t going to finish did he prompt her. “But what?” he asked gently.
She looked back out to the blackened window for the longest time. “But having a pet or being around them just never worked out for me.”
“Did you know that during WWI President Woodrow Wilson had a flock of sheep trim the White House lawn?”
She laughed, then looked surprised by the sound. “You’re making that up.”
“I’m not, Scout’s honor.” She liked animals? That he could give her. “My family got into sheep and dairy farming because my mother loved animals and couldn’t stand the thought of slaughter. So sheep and dairy cows it became.”
He told her some more entertaining stories about growing up with his brother on the farm, about getting chased around by chickens when he was a toddler and how his brother, Will, had thought that black sheep were dirty and tried to wash one when he was young.
And damned if he hadn’t used Will’s real name. A pretty common name, but still.
By the time he’d finished she almost looked like a completely different person. Her face was more relaxed, unguarded. Her long legs were tucked up under her as she’d turned to the side to listen to him, head against her seat, playing with the braid over one shoulder.
Every time he’d stopped telling a story, tried to get the conversation turned back to her, she’d asked another question about his life. Some downright insightful.
Had his father considered becoming a large-animal vet at one time? Yes, until he’d realized he wanted to own his animals and farm.
Did his mother ever knit them anything from a particular sheep they’d loved? Yes. Ren still had a sweater she’d made him from a sheep he’d once carried home after it had broken its leg.
Had he and his brother both reached a point where they’d felt trapped by the farm and wanted to get away?
That one wasn’t as easy to answer. Yes, Ren had left just after high school, deciding he’d preferred the excitement of joining the army than staying there any longer. The army had fast realized his ability to pick up new skills quickly, as well as his natural strength and intelligence. They’d fast-tracked him into