“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked when she saw the women on the other side of the car peering out the windows.
“Mr. O’Brien is having some sort of discussion with Warden Zinkhan,” Mrs. Bates said.
Elizabeth got up and moved to where she could see for herself. Zinkhan gestured excitedly and O’Brien frowned back at him. Gideon Bates and David Vanderslice stood by with the other attorneys. Nobody looked happy, so Elizabeth figured whatever they were discussing would mean more trouble for her and the other women.
“Maybe they’re having trouble getting transportation for us,” Mrs. Bates said. “The judge didn’t give them much notice we were coming.”
This was much more than a transportation problem, though.
“What is it?” Anna asked groggily. “Why is the train stopped?”
Elizabeth slipped back into her seat and managed a smile. “We’re in Washington. We’re just waiting for them to come and get us off the train.”
That seemed to satisfy her, and she closed her eyes again. Elizabeth wished she could believe her own lies.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Bates said, “Mr. O’Brien is getting back on the train.”
Oh good! Maybe they were going back to Virginia or someplace else where Thornton couldn’t find her.
O’Brien entered the car and asked for their attention, which he already had, since every woman in the car had been watching him for ten minutes.
“Warden Zinkhan has notified the judge here, the one who originally sentenced all of you, that he does not have the facilities to take all of you, particularly if you plan to continue the hunger strike, which I assured him you do. Consequently, the judge has reduced your sentences to time served, and you are all now free to return to your homes or go wherever you wish.”
The women burst into applause and began to hug each other. Mrs. Bates threw her arms around Elizabeth, but she had to force herself to hug her back. Her mind was racing, trying to decide what she should do. She was already at the train station. It would be a simple matter of catching the next train to New York. News of their release wouldn’t be in the newspapers until tomorrow, so even if Thornton knew where she’d been, he wouldn’t know she was free until she was well on her way. The only question was whether she could make the trip by herself.
She turned to Anna. “We’re free. You can go home now.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, what will you do? Will you go back to South Dakota?”
For a minute, Elizabeth couldn’t think why she would want to go to South Dakota. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll have to let my aunt know I’m all right. Maybe I’ll stay here for a few days to rest before I go on home.”
“You could come to New York with us and rest there. My mother would love to have you, and she would take such good care of you. Mrs. Bates, tell Elizabeth she should come home with us.”
“Oh, yes, do,” Mrs. Bates said. “You aren’t in any condition for a long trip like that alone.”
She was going to New York herself, of course, but she couldn’t afford to let them slow her down. She had to get well away before Thornton and his thugs got wind of it. “You’re very kind, but I couldn’t possibly—”
“Of course you could,” Mrs. Bates said. “Please at least consider it. You’ll want to stay here in Washington tonight. You’ll have to go back to your hotel to get your luggage if nothing else.”
“My luggage?” Elizabeth thought of the things she’d left behind in the hotel room when she’d fled for her life. Coleman was going to take them to New York for her if he’d managed to escape Thornton and his men, so she had nothing to collect.
“Where were you staying?” Mrs. Bates asked. “We were at the Willard.”
“I . . . no, not at the Willard,” she lied, unable to think of another hotel at the moment.
“Mother!”
Mrs. Bates looked up and smiled lovingly at her son, who was hurrying down the aisle toward them. “Gideon, they’re letting us go.”
“I know. David has gone to get a cab. We thought we’d take you and Anna back to the hotel for the night. You can get something to eat and a good night’s sleep. Then, if you’re feeling well enough, we’ll take you home tomorrow.”
About halfway through that speech, his gaze had drifted away from his mother and found Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth, this is my son, Gideon,” Mrs. Bates said with a knowing smile.
“Do you remember me, Miss Miles?” he asked with a knowing smile of his own.
“Not at all,” she tried, knowing she couldn’t encourage him.
“You remembered my advice, though.”
For all the good it had done her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Gideon, she’s my dearest friend,” Anna said, oblivious to the undercurrents. “She’s from South Dakota, but I’ve invited her to come home with us for a while. Tell her she must.”
“You must,” he said.
But Elizabeth knew she mustn’t. “You’re all very kind, but I couldn’t possibly impose, and I really must get back home to my aunt. She’ll be worried sick.”
“You can send her a telegram,” Mrs. Bates said. “Tell her kindly people are looking after you.”
“Gideon!”
David Vanderslice hurried down the aisle, squeezing by the women who had begun to make their way out of the car.
“I have a cab waiting. Anna, don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything.”
She smiled up at her brother. “David, this is Miss Miles. We must take care of her, too.”
David nodded politely. “Of course we will. Anna, can you walk?”
Anna said she could, but Mrs. Bates told David to carry her, so that’s how she was taken off the train. Mrs. Bates followed, leaving Gideon to escort Elizabeth.
“Can you walk, Miss Miles?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Because I’m perfectly willing to carry you again.”
“I can walk, Mr. Bates,” she assured him, pretending not to notice how he was smiling at her. She followed the others, and Bates came along behind her.
“It’s futile, you know,” he said.
“What is?” she asked in alarm, wondering what he knew about her.
“Trying to resist my mother. She always gets her way.”
“I really can’t—”
“And what about poor Anna? How can you cause her any more distress?”
If he only knew the kind of distress Elizabeth could attract. “You’re very persuasive, Mr. Bates,” she said. She knew better than to continue an argument she couldn’t afford to lose. She’d simply excuse herself to the ladies’ lounge and then disappear. It would be kinder to everyone.
The porter helped her down the metal stairs to the platform, and she paused to get her bearings. She saw the doors into the station and the ticket windows beyond. And then she saw Thornton’s thugs, standing at the end of the platform and watching every woman who got off the train.
“Are you all right?” Bates asked.
She wasn’t all right at all. She ducked her head, praying they hadn’t seen her. “I feel a bit faint,” she said quite truthfully.
“You never faint,” he reminded her. “Would you like me to carry you?”