Chapter 2

Could a heart really skip a beat and then leap forward in double time? It felt that way. He sucked in a fast breath. Who was this guy?

* * * *

Jon Reid took fame and notoriety in stride. As a world-renowned wildlife and scenic photographer, his face might not be known, but his name was. He kept clear of the danger zone in front of a camera, but behind one, he was an acknowledged genius. Why then had life begun to feel dull, colors muted and flat, as if viewed in poor light? Could it be because there seemed to be no new venues to portray, no new adventures to dare?

Or maybe because the solitude and independence he’d once valued so highly now seemed empty. Lonely…He’d never expected to apply that word to himself. He didn’t like it.

“Nice work,” he remarked casually when the man he’d approached whirled around like a startled deer and then stared, something akin to shock or amazement on his face.

The slender stranger nodded. Hazel eyes flicked to meet his and quickly away. “Yes, it is. They are, all of them. I’m guessing the same artist produced them. Although he didn’t do bronze that I know of, I’m reminded of Larry Toshick’s work.”

So, the man knows something about wildlife art. That wasn’t typical of the kind of tourists Jon expected to encounter on a much-touted scenic rail excursion like this one. Still, some did come to see the eagles and other species that called the rugged and remote canyon home, the route the track traversed.

“I’m a fan of his work myself. I believe these are by another artist, though one with a similar level of skill and attention to detail.”

The stranger nodded again. He edged back a step or two, even while the initial expression of wariness, if not actual fear, left his face. Jon wanted to put him at ease, although he wasn’t sure why it mattered.

“Are you taking the train today?”

The other man shrugged. “Yeah. I hadn’t planned on it, but when I found they still had seats available, I decided I might as well. It was almost as if it was an omen. I’m a rail fan, always have been. Maybe it’s in the genes. Both my grandfathers were railroad men.” He stopped then, as if he feared he was babbling or talking too much to a stranger.

“I enjoy trains, too. My granddad on Mom’s side was a railroader,” Jon said, still seeking to put the other man at ease. “A trip like this is fun for rail fans. Though I guess most come for the sights to be seen, scenery and wildlife and all. I’m hoping to get lucky and find a few photo ops today. I wanted to miss the summer weekend crowds. It’s easier to get good shots if the observation car isn’t jam-packed.”

They ended up eating lunch together, sitting out in the shady courtyard with food bought from the casual little café in the station. The weather was mild, warm although not yet the stifling heat that would come later in the summer. A light breeze carried the subtle sweet scent of mesquite blooms and tamer flowers making up the landscaping around the depot. Above, through the slatted roof, glimpses of the incredible blue of the desert sky tempted the artist in Jon’s mind. He glimpsed a large bird high in that sky, a hawk or perhaps even an eagle. With luck, he’d see others where he could photograph them from the train.

While they waited for the train to load and depart, Jon enjoyed the company, despite his normal habit of staying aloof. He found the reserved younger man a pleasant companion. No harm in some conversation, was there? He doubted he’d ever see the guy again after today, so it was safe to think of him as Clay for the time being. They’d exchanged names over lunch, just first names. Jon didn’t know if Clay had recognized him or not, but assumed he hadn’t.

Still, they talked easily, and it seemed no time at all before the growing crowd of passengers gathered to answer the call to board.

Jon glanced at Clay as they tossed the trash from their lunch into a convenient can and started toward the platform. “What car are you in?”

Clay looked at his ticket. “Flagstaff, it says here.” He gazed down the line of cars. “It looks like they all have the names of Arizona towns. How about you?”

“I’m in Flagstaff as well. What a coincidence. Well, let’s obey that all aboard and begin this adventure.” 2

They climbed into the car together under the watchful eye of a crewmember and claimed a seat near the middle of the car. Clay followed Jon, which seemed a completely natural thing to do.