Free Elm Creek Quilts [10] The Quilter's Homecoming by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

you plan to do all the way out there? The most popular tourist attractions are around the city. I hope you didn’t buy a bogus map. You have to be careful around here. People take advantage of tourists.”
    “We’re not tourists,” said Henry. “We’ve come to stay. We’re farmers.”
    “Farmers?” The salesman smiled at Elizabeth. “You’re much too pretty to be a farm wife. If you want work, you should get into the movies.”
    “You’re not the only one to think so,” said Elizabeth, deliberately avoiding Henry’s eye. “Perhaps someday.”
    “Not likely,” said Henry. “I don’t think you’ll be running into many movie producers in the Arboles Valley.”
    “You’d be surprised,” remarked their landlady. “Movies shoot on location up that way all the time.”
    Elizabeth threw Henry a triumphant grin. Perhaps the movie producers would come to her. Besides, as long as she had one producer’s card in her pocketbook, she didn’t need to meet any others.
    “We’ll be too busy,” Henry reminded her. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
    “I won’t, but I also won’t dismiss the possibility entirely,” said Elizabeth. “Isn’t California the land of opportunity? Anything can happen.”
    The salesman nodded in approval of her optimism. The landlady beamed, and why shouldn’t she? Someday she might be able to brag to her friends that she had hosted the famous Elizabeth Nelson on her first night in California. Henry merely scowled and continued eating.
    “Take care on the route north,” cautioned an older guest, who had introduced himself as a civil engineer visiting Los Angeles to study the aqueducts. “It’s a dangerous road through those hills. Highwaymen stop automobiles, wagons—anyone traveling alone. They’ll steal anything of value they can find and they’re not above roughing up women. Begging your pardon, miss.”
    Elizabeth gave him a quick smile to reassure him that his words had not upset her, although they had, a little. After what Peter had said, the engineer’s warning carried more weight than he knew.
    “The Sheik Bandits have been at it again,” said the landlady.
    “It’s in the paper this morning. They robbed a bank and left the poor cashier tied up in the vault. They were last seen heading north.”
    “The Sheik Bandits?” echoed Elizabeth.
    “A gang of three or four men, always sharply dressed,” said the salesman. “A couple of years ago, they held up a post office just over the Los Angeles County line. They bound and gagged the postmistress and made off with nearly five hundred dollars cash.”
    Elizabeth shuddered. “My goodness. The poor woman.”
    “Anyone can disappear in those rugged hills,” said the engineer. “Rumor has it the bandits hide out in the old Indian caves. No one should drive that road without a loaded firearm at his side. You’re not safe until you’re within the Oxnard city limits.”
    “It’s not that bad,” said the salesman, but unconvincingly. “The Arboles Valley is perfectly safe. It’s just getting there that’s the trouble. You young folks won’t be traveling after dark, will you?”
    “We’re traveling by train to the Simi Valley and driving over the grade from there,” said Henry.
    Around the table, the other guests visibly relaxed. “In that case, you’ll be fine,” said the engineer.
    Elizabeth managed a brief, shaky smile, wondering what other plans Henry had made without explaining their imperative to her. She had assumed he had chosen the train for its speed and directness, not because their lives depended on it.

    For the relatively short trip to the Simi Valley station, Henry had purchased two seats in coach and paid an additional fee for their excess luggage. Their seats were quite a change from the comfortable private compartments they had enjoyed on the first two legs of their journey, but Elizabeth was so eager to reach their final destination she did not mind.
    At last the conductor called out the