Free The Virtuous Woman by Gilbert Morris Page A

He was breathing in short breaths, and perspiration wet his shirt. “Francis,” she said, “are you all right?”
    He opened his eyes and whispered yes.
    “You don’t look all right. Those ribs are giving you a hard time.”
    “I’ll be all right,” Key managed to grunt.
    “This is silly. There are two beds in that compartment. Come on, you might as well use one of them.”
    “Maybe I’d better not.”
    “Don’t be stupid,” Ruby said impatiently. “You’re gonna pass out here. Come on, and don’t argue.”
    She stepped back, and Key got to his feet painfully. He could not straighten up fully and moved like an arthritic old man as he made his way down to the sleeping compartment. Ruby followed him down the corridor, and when they reached the door, she opened it for him.
    “I’ve discovered that there’s another bed up here,” she told him. She swung the upper berth down, which already had sheets and a pillow and a blanket.
    “Okay, get your clothes off and get in that bottom bunk.”
    Key was too woozy with pain medication to argue. He pulled off his coat, which was damp with sweat, and started unbuttoning his shirt. He looked at her and said, “That’s good.”
    “No it’s not. You’ll be miserable. Go ahead and take your shoes and pants off.”
    He sat down on the bunk and she removed his shoes. “That’s enough,” he managed to say as he carefully lay down on the sheet and finally relaxed. “That feels good,” he whispered. He felt her pull the blanket up over him, and he was out.
    Ruby straightened up and looked down at the unconscious man. That really is rich, she thought with a smile. Most guys are tryin’ to get me into bed, and here I’m puttin’ one into bed. She undressed quickly and put on a white cotton gown, then climbed up into the bunk. She pulled the sheet and blanket up over her and lay still, listening to the clickety-clack of the wheels until she fell into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    “Don’t You Like Women?”
    Ruby sat across the table in the dining car, sipping coffee out of a fine china cup. They were nearing the end of their long trip across country, and Francis was feeling better. During the early part of the trip he had mostly slept, only staying awake long enough for Ruby to give him his pain pills, help him to the bathroom, or give him a little food.
    “You’re lookin’ better. You got some color.” Ruby tipped her cigarette ashes into an ashtray, then settled back to study his face. He was finishing his meal, which was primarily vegetables. He had only nibbled at the glazed chicken but seemed to relish the asparagus. “You eat like a rabbit,” she said.
    He managed a smile. “I guess I do. The food’s good, isn’t it?”
    “Best I’ve ever had. You ever traveled on one of these things before?”
    “Once or twice.”
    The two sat there quietly and ate their dessert, Key taking small bites of his lemon meringue pie. He moved carefully when he reached for his water but did not show the agonizing discomfort he had experienced at first.
    “Tell me more about these Winslows,” Ruby demanded. “I still think this is the nuttiest thing I ever heard of.”
    “Strange things happen all the time,” he said. “You’d be surprised at how many babies get stolen. Just disappear.”
    “Who takes them?”
    “People who can’t have babies and want them, nuts,psychos. I once worked on a case where I tried to help a young couple who’d had their first child taken. The baby was only two months old and someone just picked her up out of her buggy in the general store. When the woman turned around, she was gone.” The memory seemed to trouble Francis, and he shook his head. “That mother was in pretty bad shape.”
    “You never found the baby?”
    “Never did. Nothing to go on. Just like she disappeared off the face of the earth.”
    Ruby sobered at the thought and quietly listened to the now-familiar rhythm of the train wheels. It was late now, and most of