The Last Train Home.

Blyne Cooper.

One cold winter's night in Manhattan's Lower East side, tragedy strikes the Chisholm family. Thrown together by fate and disaster, Virginia "Ginny" Chisholm meets Lindsay Killian, a street-smart drifter who spends her days picking pockets and riding the rails.

Together, the young women embark on a desperate journey that spans from the slums of New York City to the Western Frontier, as Ginny tries to reunite her family, regardless of the cost. In this dramatic saga a solid friendship is forged, one strong enough to endure the trials of an impoverished existence in 1890s America and a quest from which neither woman will back down. It's those same bonds that form the basis of a tender, and very unexpected, romance.

Chapter One.

1890.

It began to snow, tiny flakes shimmering in the lamplight until they collided with Virginia's worn, woolen scarf and stuck, creating a thin layer of silvery crystals on the black fabric. The scarf covered her head and she absently reached up to make certain its ends were tucked securely into her coat. She left her hand there as she walked, holding together the scratchy, woolen lapels of the coat with chilled fingers.

At the corner of Essex and Delancey streets she stopped at the curb to allowed a slow-moving wagon to pass in front her.

"Whoa." The husky driver reined the single brown nag that was pulling his wagon. The back of the wagon was full of beer barrels. "Needing a ride, miss?" He stripped off his small, round hat and squinted as he looked into the night's sky, irritated when small flakes dotted the lenses of his spectacles. "Winter is finally here on this New Year's Eve," he pronounced, stuffing his hat back atop a mass of unruly dark hair and wiping his glasses.

Virginia smiled and shook her head. Six months ago she wouldn't have understood a word he'd said. Then, the varied accents of Manhattan's Lower East Side immigrants had caused her to blink stupidly at nearly anyone who spoke to her. On this night, however, she understood the man perfectly and thanked him for his kind offer before continuing her trek to Orchard Street and home, which consisted of a tiny apartment on the sixth floor of a brown brick tenement house.

A laughing couple staggered past her shouting their wishes for a happy New Year and addressing her by name. She dredged up another smile and waved her goodbyes as she continued to walk, her mind occupied more with getting off her aching feet than imbibing along with the rest of New York.

She had worked late tonight, stripping the feathers from stinking chicken carcasses along with two dozen other men, women, and children, all for the promise of an extra dollar in her $4.00 a week paycheck. Despite the holiday, it was an offer Virginia Chisholm could ill afford to refuse.

Passing through a cloud of foul-smelling steam rising from the sewer vent, she opened the door to her building and was instantly greeted by several more partying tenants. She lowered her scarf and shook it out, sending a scattering of icy crystals to the wooden floor and revealing a head of red hair with golden highlights, now in full disarray.

A pock-faced man poked his head out of his apartment door, and Virginia could hear the jaunty chords of an out-of-tune piano and a burst of laughter from behind him. "Evening, Ginny!" he slurred.

"Happy New Year, Mr. Belawitz," she dutifully answered, secretly hoping that he wouldn't want to chat. But he quickly ducked back inside his apartment, much to Ginny's relief.

A chorus of "Happy New Year, Ginny!" rang out through the narrow hallway as Ginny climbed the steep steps. She laughed, happy to see her usually grumpy neighbors enjoying the season.

It was already past ten and her family's apartment was dark and quiet, except for a single candle that sat on a small table near the stove, illuminating the weary faces of Ginny's mother and sister. She sat down alongside her mother with a weary thump.

Ginny's older sister, Alice, rose to hang up Ginny's wet coat, and her mother reached over to the stove for a pot that still held hot tea.

"I was beginning to get worried, child."She hated it when Ginny walked the ten blocks from her work to home in the dark alone.

Ginny tucked chilled, red fingers under her arms for warmth. "I'm sorry, mama, I had to work late."Then she smiled, remembering why she'd missed supper."There's an extra dollar in my pocket this week because of it."

Both Alice and her mother's faces brightened.

"I can get it for you. I-"

"No need."Her mother waved her off, filling a chipped cup with steaming tea and sending the scent of mint wafting between them."You can give it to me tomorrow when I go to the market. It'll be nice to have some meat for dinner." She looked gratefully at both her daughters and rose to her feet. As she stood, she brushed her lips against the top of her Ginny's cold head."Happy New Year, babies. I hope it's the best one ever," she said softly."For both of you."

"Same to you, Mama," the young women answered in concert, as their mother disappeared into one of the apartment's two small bedrooms. They smiled at the sound of their stepfather's deep snores, which disappeared when their mother closed the bedroom door.

When the apartment was silent once again, Alice scooted her chair next to her sister's and they began to chatter quietly about the day's events. Before long Ginny's eyelids were drooping and Alice chuckled. Ginny was too tired. They were all too tired. Her sister's heart-shaped face had begun to take on the lines and planes of adulthood, though in fairness the skin around her eyes had always crinkled when she smiled, belying her true age. Right now, however, those same eyes were fluttering closed at irregular intervals as Ginny fought uselessly against an overwhelming wave of fatigue.

"C'mon, luscious," Alice teased."Let me help you into bed." She pushed off from the table, then carefully set Ginny's empty cup in a wash basin.

"Hush," Ginny shot back testily, more than a little sensitive about her curvaceous figure. She was average height, but only in the past year, since she'd turned 17, had her hips widened and her breasts taken on a full roundness not shared by either her mother or older sibling.

"Oh, all right," Alice laughed, guiding her bone-weary sister towards their darkened room. Once inside they both carefully checked to make certain the blankets were tightly tucked around their young twin brothers, James and Lewis. Next they checked on the baby, Helen, and 3-year-old Jane, who both slept in a crib at the foot of the girls' bed. Satisfied that everyone was warm, Alice climbed into bed.

Ginny stripped down to her underclothes and as quickly as she could snuggled under the covers of the twin bed she shared with her sister. Her contented sigh at the wonderful feeling of their shared body heat was lost amidst the loud creaking of the bedsprings.

"This is the year, Alice," Ginny whispered fervently after a long moment. She pulled the quilt up to her chin."1889 was the last year I'm spending in this place. I know Mama needs our help, but-"

"Me too, Ginny." A pause."John from the fish market came calling for me earlier tonight."

Ginny could hear the smile in her sister's voice."About time. You two have been mooning over each other for months. And sparking for almost that long," she added mischievously," knowing that Alice wasn't aware she'd inadvertently caught them kissing more than once. She squirmed out of the way of pinching fingers, causing Lewis to stir in the bed only two feet away.

"Quiet, Ginny."

"Sorry."But she wasn't really. She'd been waiting weeks for the perfect opportunity to torture Alice about that.

"Now, about tonight," Alice continued undaunted, "Arthur told him to come back next week after his visit had been properly announced."

Unseen in the darkness both sisters rolled their eyes at their stepfather's old-fashioned notions.

"But John said he'd be back. He wants to move out West next summer, you know. His uncle owns a farm in Tennessee."

"Oh, Al," Ginny's voice was soft and wistful. She'd seen photographs of rolling hills and imagined miles and miles of fresh, green grass."That's wonderful." She squeezed her sister's hand, trying to ignore the pang in her chest that the news brought. She would miss her fiercely, but refused to begrudge Alice an opportunity for a better life. After all, she intended on having one herself. There has to be more than this place. Endless work. The stink. The crime. There just has to.

"He has a brother, Ginny. If you can get past those mutton chops and that long mustache he's not such a bad looking fellow."

Ginny snorted. "No thanks."She absently glanced out the window, her eyes following the constant stream of glittering snow."I'll get out of here without having to resort to him, thank you very much."

And for a moment Alice believed her willful younger sister. If anyone could do it, it was Ginny.

"Sweet dreams, Al."

"Happy New Year, Ginny."

Then only the muffled sounds of snoring filled the tiny apartment on Orchard Street.

"So long, String Bean."With a single shove between the narrow shoulder blades, Lindsay Killian went flying out of the slow moving boxcar and into the night. She hit the ground, cursing as she slid down an embankment made up of rocks and chunks of coal covered by a thin layer of snow. She winced as she felt her trousers and then the skin of her knees and hands tear. It was eerily silent out, except for the fading chugging of the freight train.

"Bastard," she spat, seeing her hat fly out of the boxcar, which was already several hundred feet down the track in front of her. She could swear she could still hear his self-satisfied laughter. It was, in Lindsay's mind, the ultimate humiliation."Rolled by someone I know." She snorted derisively."What next? My own father coming back from the grave to slap me in the face?"

With a shake of the head, she pushed wearily to her knees and wobbled there for several seconds before falling bonelessly backwards. She sighed, sending a puff of steam into the cold air, and gazed up into the sky, its blackness overtaken by the muted glow of lights and smoke from the nearby city. Snowflakes rained down on her and she wished briefly that she could see the stars instead of the endless sea of dingy gray-gold above. Like New York City, the stars made her feel small and insignificant-dwarfed. But unlike this place, they also made Lindsay feel free... as if the universe was stretched out invitingly before her and anything was possible.

With another dramatic sigh she rolled over onto her side and paused a moment to remove a small rock that had embedded itself in her hand. She winced and rose to her feet, brushing off her shabby coat. Despite her sudden fit of melancholy and her outright embarrassment over being robbed of her flint, pocketknife, and life savings, which consisted of a total of .87, she decided that she could do better than freezing to death in the ditch. The City might be a cesspool but there were plenty of pockets to pick, charity shelters that offered hot, if watery, soup, and places where she could go and warm her hands by the fire.

Her eyes narrowed. After she found some food, she would head down to Rat Face's favorite railway station and reclaim her stolen property along with her pride. Lindsay's booted feet made a crunching noise as she walked.

"String Bean, my dear," she muttered to herself, as she bent to retrieve her battered hat, "How about a different resolution this new year? Instead of getting rich, why not settle on keeping better company?"She tucked her shoulder-length hair deep into her coat and out of sight. Yeah. She nodded a little, satisfied with her decision. Better company, it is.

She climbed back up the embankment."But that better company's gonna have to come after I find Rat Face and KICK HIS ASS."

Feeling much better, she tucked her hands into her sleeves and whistled a happy tune as she began a solitary walk down the wooden tracks and towards New York City.

"Ginny. Wake up. Please"

The words tugged at the edge of her consciousness. But they weren't enough to completely rouse her.

"Ginny."

She felt a small hand shaking her shoulder."What is it, Lewis?" she mumbled, keeping her eyes firmly closed. I just lay down. Tell me it's not time to wake up yet.

"C'mon, Ginny!"

This time her brother's high-pitched voice was filled with panic, and her eyes fluttered open to find their room filled with... she blinked... smoke?

"Oh, my God."Alice sat up and pushed her hair from her face."Oh, God. Oh, God. Something's burning," she said needlessly."There's a fire."

Ginny threw off their covers and scrambled out of bed, not noticing that the floor beneath her bare feet was unusually warm."I'll get Mama."She looked at Alice for confirmation, pushing down a wave of fear and dread.

"Go! I'll get the kids dressed."Alice was already hastily wiggling on Lewis' shoes.

Ginny nodded quickly and covered her mouth with her hand. Now that she was on her feet, the acrid smell and taste made the back of her throat burn and her head was well into the hazy layer of smoke that covered the top half of the room."I'll be right back to help, Alice."She spared a glance into the crib, then stopped dead in her tracks. "Helen?" Her eyes darted around wildly."Helen?"Ginny's normally rich voice cracked on the last word as she looked at Jane, who was alone in the crib.

The toddler began to whimper as she awoke.

The sound of wagons, nervous horses, and raised, panicky voices floated up from the street below.

Alice grabbed Lewis' coat from the closet and began to wake James, who was still oblivious in his peaceful sleep."Mama took Helen out of the crib about an hour ago. She never brought her back."She didn't have to look up to know that Ginny hadn't moved." Hurry, Ginny. Go!"

Ginny snapped out of her shock and jerked open their bedroom door. For the first time in her life she ran into her parents' room without knocking."Mama! Arthur, wake up. There's a fire."

"What? Oh, no."Her mother shot up out of bed, her eyes wide with disbelief, all traces of sleep gone in an instant. She had Helen in her arms and awkwardly shifted her nightgown so that her breast would no longer be exposed.

The baby let out a loud unhappy shriek as her comforting suckling was abruptly ended.

Ginny looked away, embarrassed.

Arthur Robson, Ginny's stepfather, lay stock-still except for the even rise and fall of his chest. Ginny shook his shoulder vigorously but he only slapped her hand away and mumbled something unintelligible.

She turned questioning eyes on her mother, who was rummaging through her dresser for something more suitable than a nightgown and trying to calm Helen's cries. "What's wrong with him, Mama?"

"He drank too much celebrating the New Year is all. He'll be fine. I... I can wake him. Go help your sister with the other children."She fanned her hand in front of her in a useless attempt to clear away the smoke. "You need to get out now, Ginny, all of you." She stifled a cough."Put on your shoes and coat."The older woman wrapped a blanket around Helen and sat her back on the bed as she dressed."We'll meet you in front of the building."

The older woman suddenly stopped talking and cocked her head towards the window. Short, quick steps took her across the small room and she grunted as she threw open the window. A blast of cold air and the sound of distant screams filled the room. Despite the January air, sweat began to bead on Mrs. Robson's upper lip. Peering out, she could see flames shooting out of the window from the apartment directly below theirs and a gathering of men, women, children and fire brigade on the street below."Sweet Jesus."Wild brown eyes snapped sideways, pinning Ginny, but she spoke with remarkable calmness."Go and don't stop, Ginny. Get your brothers and sisters and run."

Ginny hesitated for only a second, but seeing that Arthur was beginning to wake up on his own she reluctantly made her way back to her room. The entire apartment was filled with smoke now, and the short distance between the two doors somehow seemed longer in the pungent haze."Ouch."She stubbed her toe on the edge of small table.

Lewis and James were standing nervously at the door in their nightshirts, coats, hats, and shoes. Both 8-year-old boys wrapped themselves around Ginny as soon as she entered the room.

"Awww, it's gonna be okay, boys."But the smoke was making it hard to see and harder to breathe."You'll see."She cupped both their chins and gently lifted."Are you ready?"

Two red heads nodded quickly.

Ginny gave them her best reassuring smile and the boys visibly calmed."Good."

Alice was busy wrapping a blanket around Jane with one hand while she buttoned her coat with the other. She glanced up at Ginny and their eyes locked.

Ginny swallowed hard and her heart began to pound, realizing for the first time that this was more than a dangerous situation. It was deadly.

Alice opened her mouth to speak but could only cough."Where..." she finally choked out, shaking her head as if to clear her throat."Where are they?"Smoke filled the entire room now and boys began to gasp and cough as well.

Ginny spoke without taking a breath so she could get the words out all at once. "They're not ready, Al. Arthur drank too much. Mama's trying to get him up."She squeezed her watery, stinging eyes shut as the room began to blur.

Alice nodded and handed Jane to Ginny, who instantly wrapped the squirming toddler in a comforting embrace. Another second and Alice was on her knees fitting Ginny's feet into her shoes."Get them out..." A cough."... of here."She began to cough again and this time she couldn't stop for several long seconds.

When Ginny's shoes were securely in place, Alice grasped her sister's biceps and pulled Ginny and Jane tightly against her in a hug to so tight it was painful. She pressed her lips directly to Ginny's ear."Mama can't get Arthur and the baby alone. I'll help."She extended her arms and held her sister's gaze once again."Never leave them, Ginny. They need you. Promise?"

"Pr... Promise."Ginny drew in an uneven breath and her eyes filled with tears of a different kind.

"Shh..." Alice quickly but gently wiped her cheeks, knowing her own were just as wet. "I'll meet you outside, luscious. Go," she whispered a split second before bolting towards her parents' room, drawing her fingers lightly across the top of her brothers' heads on her way out.

Ginny didn't bother sniffing or wiping her eyes. She let the tears come, allowing them to momentarily clear her vision and burn a path down her already flushed cheeks. Then she reached down and took one of James' small hands, instructing him to hold onto Lewis'."Let's go."

Several blind paces later and they were at the apartment's front door, where Ginny awkwardly shrugged into her charcoal gray, woolen coat. She repositioned Jane against her shoulder and reached for the knob, only to yank her hand back and scream when her skin stuck to the searing metal. She stumbled backwards, only just maintaining her hold on her sister.

Lewis began to cry in earnest and James abandoned his normal approach of telling his brother he was acting like a sissy when he wanted him to be brave. Instead he remained mute, glancing around the room with round frightened eyes.

Ginny's mind raced. If the metal was that hot, surely the fire was in the hallway. The window? No. They were on the sixth floor. She drew in a ragged breath. They had no choice."Hold on, Jane."She screwed blue eyes tightly shut and kicked the door.

Once.

Twice.

On the third kick, much to Ginny's surprise, the rickety door flew open and a wave of hot air slammed against them all, forcing them to take a step backwards and gasp in shock. Momentarily the smoke seemed to clear and Ginny could see that flames had engulfed the apartments farthest from the stairs. The fire was working its way towards the other end of the hall, its deadly tendrils already licking at her apartment door. She glanced over her shoulder, desperately hoping to see the rest of her family. But the view was once again obscured by smoke.

"Run!" Gripping Lewis' sweaty hand, she ignored the pain in her own as they burst through the flames that shot across their doorway. They began a dead run down the narrow hallway. Ginny tried to call out to her neighbors, on the chance that they were still sleeping unaware in their beds, but most of her yells were swallowed up by the coughing she could no longer hold at bay, and the roar of the fire, which seemed to grow with every passing second.

Screams and the sound of breaking wood and glass echoed up from the floors below her and several of the apartments around her, the sound nearly enough to drive all rational thought from her mind. The flames painted eerie, hateful shadows on the walls around them as they stepped over several pieces of smoldering paneling that had peeled away due to the blazing heat.

Just as they were about to reach the stairs, Mr. Gelfand, the tenant from the apartment directly behind them, burst out of his front door and ran past them in his bare feet. Smoke was coming from the tails of his nightshirt, but he didn't seem to notice them as he barreled over James on his way to down the steps.