2
PARKER
The moment Miss Millard entered the train car in Billings, I knew she was the one. While the porter followed behind her carrying her small bag, she stumbled down the aisle as the train picked up speed. Pitching about, she used her hands on the backs of the seats for balance. I stood immediately, drawing Sully’s eyes from the book in his lap to the woman we would marry.
The dress she wore was of the finest cut, in a pale green silk with a bright sheen to it that, beneath my fingers, wouldn’t be as soft as the skin on her long neck. I didn’t have to be female to know the latest style or the expense of the materials. Her little hat, angled just so on her head of blond curls, matched perfectly. The gown was completely modest, from the long sleeves to the high collar, but it did not
