Chapter Seventeen
Charles came for her at rooster time, when the first rays of sunlight painted the dawn, before the ricochet of rolling steel was muffled by movement, before turmoil overcame melody, and while she dreamt in Sand’s arms. The fragrance of sweat still lingered in her mind, and his steady breathing offered her contentment.
He had stormed the baggage car, bought her, draped her, hefted her over his left shoulder, and taken her away. She was mesmerized by his courage. She shuddered with excitement to be so highly prized, yet feared embarrassment at being found unworthy. Her hair hung limp, she smelled dirty from fluid, her mascara ran down her cheeks, and every eye they passed marked her as a hussy. Nonetheless, through winding cars, the cacophony of noise, and the murmur of
