back to—" His right arm was yanked back sharply.
"What? What the …?" He snapped wide awake and tried to pull his arm around again only to have it come up short. Metal cut into the flesh at his wrist. "Sonofabitch!" He rolled onto his back and craned his neck to see that he was securely cuffed to the berth.
"Cole, why are you sleeping with handcuffs on?"
"I am not going to dignify that stupid question with an answer!" Cole sat up abruptly and slammed his forehead into the bottom of the upper berth. "Ouch! Dammit!"
"Uh-oh. Did Gwin ...?"
Cole finally righted himself. "I don't know how she did it, but she did it! Just wait till I get my hands—" He yanked again on the cuffs, succeeding only in rattling their traveling bed and enraging himself anew. "Hell!"
"I don't think she escaped or anything, Mr., uh, Cole. I think she was just, uh..."
"Just what?"
"I think she was mad at you for something."
Cole grumbled and reached under the bunk to retrieve his coat. "I'm going to strangle her." He found his coat and rifled through his pockets, searching for the key to the handcuffs.
Arthur sounded anxious. "You aren't really going to hurt her, are you?"
Having found his pockets infuriatingly devoid of keys, Cole tossed the garment aside in disgust. "Hurt her? Why would I want to hurt the scheming little—"
"She must've palmed your key."
"She's a woman of many talents, your sister. Where are my pants?"
"She isn't so bad once you get to know her. It's just that she doesn't like being bossed around. It gets her fur up."
Cole struggled to climb into his trousers with the use of only one hand. "Well, she's gotten my fur up, and she's going to be woefully sorry that she did." He paused and muttered under his breath, "As soon as I figure a way out of this."
"Gwin will have the key. Don't worry, she doesn't stay mad long, and I know she'll be real sorry."
"Ah, hell, I'm going to have to call the conductor."
"No you won't. She'll be back soon."
Cole knew Arthur was right. She would never leave her brother behind, but he would be damned if he would wait here for her to return and beg her for the key. He thought he'd rather dine on rat meat than be forced that low.
"Or..."
There was a certain wheedling tone in Arthur's voice that caused Cole to raise his head. "What?"
"If you promise you won't be too mad at her, I could maybe—"
Cole grabbed Arthur by his nightshirt and dragged him forward, nose to nose. "Don't give me any of this 'maybe' hogwash. If you know how to get these damn things off, you'd better do it now, or I'll tan your backside, understand?"
"I'm not sure I can do it. I need a lock pick."
"A lock pick?" Cole realized he was almost yelling and lowered his voice. "Oh, certainly, maybe I'll just ask that nice lady two seats back. She's bound to have an extra one in her traveling bag."
Arthur shrugged as best he could with Cole's fist still entangled in his nightshirt. "Maybe one of Gwin's hatpins?"
Cole released the boy and bent down to feel around for Gwin's valise. It was, of course, not there. He stood and felt blindly on the empty upper berth. He found it immediately and dragged it down with a thump. He released the clasp and started pulling things out haphazardly. His fingers entangled in a lacy thing and he held it up to the dim light. A camisole. He tossed it aside, but not before he caught a distracting whiff of lilac.
Trying to ignore both the scent and the carnal images it conjured, he burrowed deeper and pricked his finger on a pin. He drew it out and gave it to Arthur. "This better work."
The boy inserted the pin into the locking mechanism. "I'll try my best, but I haven't done this since I was eight."
"Don’t you need more light for this?" Cole asked.
"Not light, just quiet."
Cole tried to see what the kid was doing. "Did you learn this trick from your charming sister?"
"No, I learned it from a fella named Fuzzy Garrison who traveled with us for a while."
Cole struggled to remain
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