“Welcome back.” Harris waved a steaming cup of coffee under his nose.

Albert sat up. With a shaking hand, he reached for the hot drink.

“To answer your unspoken question, you’ve been out a whole day.”

“I remember Izumi coming in. I asked about the dragon toy. She said, ‘not now, foot first,’ and gave me some tea.”

“A special blend. My grandmother gave me some when I broke my arm. The herbs have a numbing effect. It also speeds up healing of bones. I stopped her before the second cup. You would have been out for the rest of our train ride. How are the toes feeling?”

“Not sure. Don’t even know if they are still there.”

“Izumi worked extensively on them. Soaking, straightening, massaging. Afterward, she wrapped a herb infused towel around them and left. She said something about daily treatments until we reach San Francisco”

“Where are we?”

“You slept through one stop. The next is due later today, the train’s last before San Francisco. I need to get off and send a message. Don’t let Izumi give you any more tea. You must be alert while I’m gone.”

“Sending anything special?”

“No, just a status update.”

“Don’t suppose there is more coffee?”

“More coffee and a couple of sandwiches. Knowing your appetite, I was prepared,” Harris laughed.

As Albert finished the last piece, the handle turned on his door. Izumi entered pushing a cart of covered dishes.

Harris quickly removed the empty plate and hid it behind him. The coffee pot and cup he left out.

“I brought breakfast.” Izumi calmly removed bowls and placed them on the drop-down table. She started to pour a cup of tea when Albert stopped her.

“I’ve had coffee already.”

“This is special tea.”

Albert shook his head.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She removed the cup and directed an unhappy glance toward Harris.

“But show me what you brought to eat,” Albert said to break the tense atmosphere.

Harris went into his cabin and on pretense of working, managed to keep a close watch on Izumi.

When Albert finished his meal, she cleared the dishes and flipped the table up. Kneeling at his feet, her hands gently unwrapped his foot. “The healing has begun. I need to massage the toes. Much pain. The tea would help.”

“First time my toes didn’t look like sausages. That stuff you used is miraculous,” Albert commented.

Harris walked in, curious about what he said and watched her stroke the toes. At the end of each downward motion, she pulled a toe. Albert groaned.

“Tea? It will numb the pain.”

“No. Keep going.”

Pulling out a covered bowl, Izumi placed it on the floor. Removing the towel, she picked up his foot and set it in the water. Herbs floated up to the top. While he sat with eyes closed, her hands ran up his leg. Finding a sensitive spot, fingers swirled around it.

Harris watched as his friend’s eyes dilated, and he took shallow breaths. Albert was physically aroused as she pushed him back. Swinging his feet up on the bed, Izumi wrapped the towel around his toes. Feather-like fingers stroked his forehead.

“So beautiful. Come closer.”

“Not now, sleep. Later, I come.” Izumi gathered the supplies, tucked them back on the trolley, and stood. She gave Harris a glance of victory before leaving.

An odd warning sensation spread down Harris’s spine. Not one to ignore his instincts, as the train slowed to a stop, he tucked a second gun in his belt and slipped the knife down his boot. As an afterthought, Albert’s climbing device was fastened around his wrist. Stepping down onto the station platform, he moved with a purpose to the telegraph office located at the ticket counter.

The message he sent was coded with key words in case the attendant could be bribed. It started with:

Sweet Mom,

Train trip is great.

Smooth ride to San Francisco.

Working as valet for Timmons is good job.

Clear weather.

Last stop.

Harris.

What he really said was:

79338 Roosevelt.

They suspect me.

Continue?

Timmons in danger.

Advise.

Message me at San Francisco

Harris

“Your mom, huh?” the nosy telegrapher asked.

“Yes, I am on a long trip. She worries about me.”

There were only a few minutes before the train departed. Intent on catching it, he was only aware of the danger at the last second.

A man stepped in front of him and growled, “Watch where you’re going.”

The second attacker came from behind and punched him in the back. From the side, a third man pulled a knife and thrust it in his shoulder.

Harris stumbled. The men took advantage of his weakened position and started kicking and punching him.

They continued until someone called out in Japanese, “Leave him. He’s finished. Get on the train.”

A last kick shoved Harris against the wall. The men’s running feet pounded the platform toward the train.

Using the wall for support, he pushed his body up. Pain shot through his shoulder. But since he hurt everywhere else, it was easy to ignore.

The train let off a warning whistle. The ticket-taker yelled, “All aboard.”

Can’t miss the train. He stumbled toward it as the engine let out a burst of steam and jerked.