passengers would be booked on this cross-country route.
Reaching her window seat, where the air was cooler than in the aisle, Rose sank onto the cushion. She glanced at her wristwatch. Ten-thirty a.m. In another half hour, the train would arrive at her hometown of Red Rock, thirty miles east of Denver, where she’d detrain for a weekend off. Come Monday, she’d be traveling again.
Despite today’s unsettling storm, she loved her job. Being on the go helped to keep painful memories at bay, including her breakup with Dr. Mike Mahoney. Although two years had passed since she’d told him they had no future together, their paths crossed all too often. Each time she saw him, her heart twisted. Each time, she had to tell herself all over again that saying good-bye had been not only the right choice, but, given the circumstances, the only choice.
Deciding a change of residence would allow her to truly move on, last week she’d applied for a transfer. She had no particular place in mind; she’d consider anywhere, as long as it was away from Red Rock and Mike Mahoney.
Rose flinched at another round of lightning and thunder. She needed a distraction, both from the storm and from her troublesome thoughts about Mike. Digging into her purse, she pulled out her PDA and switched it on. Since one of her tasks was to monitor the railroad’s food service, she began making notes on the breakfast she’d had earlier in the dining car. The omelet was superb, but the toast was a little dry. She filled in the rating form accordingly.
Five minutes later, lightning again lit up the sky. Rose scrunched her shoulders while she waited for the inevitable thunder. Sure enough, the loud peal began. But, instead of fading away, the sound grew into a shuddering, deafening roar.
Not only thunder. Something else.
Rose’s blood went cold.
The train began to vibrate and for a moment she feared an earthquake was in progress. Then a horrendous crash brought them to a screeching halt. The coach car swayed back and forth like a drunken sailor. Women screamed and babies cried. Passengers leaped into the aisle and ran toward the exits.
“Stay calm, everyone!” Rose shouted. She lurched from her seat, but before she reached the aisle, the car gave an agonized groan and toppled onto its side. With a gasp, Rose thrust out her arms to grasp the seat ahead. Her fingers connected but another jolt ripped her hands away. Something heavy smashed into her left side. Sharp pain arrowed up her leg and her knees buckled. Arms flailing, she fell, hitting her head on the armrest of the seat across the aisle. Black dots swept across her vision, and then she lost consciousness.
Chapter One
As Rose Phillips made her way down the aisle of the TransAmerica coach car, a bolt of lightning pierced the dark sky, followed by ear-splitting thunder. Heavy winds buffeted the train, and driving rain obscured the spectacular view of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. Rose shuddered and hugged her arms. As the railroad’s Quality Control Manager, she’d traveled this route many times and through many storms, but none as violent as this one.
The car was about half full, which was usual for early May. Once tourist season began, more
