"What?" Lindsay answered in a normal tone, suddenly appearing less than a foot in front of Ginny's shocked eyes.

Ginny gasped. She took a quick step backwards and began to slip on the ice. The piece of wood went flying out of her hand and hit Lindsay squarely in the chest as Ginny's arms flailed wildly and she tried desperately to keep from falling out of the boxcar.

Lindsay's hand shot out and long fingers wound themselves around Ginny's lapel."Jesus Christ!"She leaned backwards, and, adrenaline pumping, yanked Ginny so hard that she sent the woman flying across the boxcar."I thought I asked you to wait?"

Their voices seemed unnaturally loud after all the whispering.

"What was I supposed to do?"Ginny marched back to Lindsay, until they were nose to nose."I waited and called your name but you didn't answer."

"I was only gone for ten seconds!"

"Ten seconds where you could have answered!"

Lindsay threw her hands in the air."UGH!"

"I was worried." Ginny fought unsuccessfully to keep her frustration from leaking into her voice."Why did you take so long, anyway?"

Lindsay tiredly tossed down their sack. Being friends is hard! "Sometimes people are sleeping in these cars, Ginny. And if you wake them up unexpectedly they might just stab you between the eyes. Somehow I thought you might not find a Buck knife in the brain very appealing. I know I don't."

Ginny blinked.

"I was trying to be quiet."

"Oh." Ginny suddenly felt incredibly foolish. She winced."I thought... What if you'd needed me?"

Ginny's eyes begged her to understand, and to her surprise, she did. Completely. Lindsay sighed and tucked her hands under her arms to keep from touching her friend again. She was doing that way too much. Surely Ginny would think she was a needy, crazy person, who couldn't keep her mitts to herself."I just didn't want you hurt," Lindsay explained with all the patience she could muster. "Everyone's not as nice as you are, Ginny. You need to be careful."

"I am careful." Ginny looked away. "Usually. But I got so worried," she muttered, knowing it sounded stupid.

"I know what I'm doing. You need to trust me."

Ginny's gaze darted up to meet Lindsay's."I do," she insisted."I do."

"I know you've ... um... you've lost a lot. So I... I mean I understand that. Maybe I shouldn't have left you outside. I guess. Maybe." Lindsay rolled her eyes at her own inability to communicate. It wasn't usually a problem with Ginny. She could, she knew intuitively, really talk to her. But sometimes when Ginny was looking at her the way she was at this very moment, Lindsay thought her heart might pound out of her chest.

Lindsay cast about for something to say that wouldn't make her sound like a moron. "We're out of the snow," she blurted. Oh, that was a good choice.

Ginny's eyebrows jumped at the non sequitur. She hadn't really minded the silence, so long as it wasn't because Lindsay was angry. She studied the other woman's face carefully, wondering what in the world had gotten Lindsay so fidgety all of a sudden."Exactly," Ginny agreed amiably."No more snow."

Lindsay's head bobbed gratefully and she let out a shuddering breath."This will be a good place to stay the night. No wind. No cops who will try to kick us out." Her thoughts drifted back to the offer they'd had to sleep in the church in Manhattan and a sliver of guilt pierced her heart."But the church would have been nicer, huh?"

Ginny picked up their sack and untied the top. She pulled out both of the blankets, burying her cold face in them for a moment."I dunno," she answered noncommittally, her voice muffled. But you were uncomfortable there. And that was more than enough reason for me to say no. She lifted her head and looked at Lindsay, wanting to convey that what made Lindsay comfortable mattered to her."This place works too. Anyplace is fine."

Lindsay shifted uncomfortably, knowing full well Ginny was lying.

Ginny read her friend easily."This really is fine, Lindsay. C'mon, let's go to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open and dawn will come soon enough."

"Okay. But first, why don't you put on the clothes in this bag? They'll be warmer than what you're wearing, and dry, and you can change tomorrow before we leave."

The thought of undressing in this strange place and in the bitter cold wasn't exactly appealing. Just being here made her feel exposed. Ginny bit her lip."Where will... I mean..."

"I need to... I have to take care of some business outside," Lindsay said in a rush, sensing Ginny's discomfort over having no place private to undress."I'll be right outside and back in two minutes, all right?"

"Two minutes?"

"I promise."

Lindsay climbed back in the boxcar and was greeted by the sound of gentle snores. She carefully laid the armful of wood she'd scavenged on the floor. She smiled affectionately at her friend, who, much to Lindsay's distaste awoke with the chickens every morning but could fall into a deep sleep at the drop of a hat.

Ginny was curled up into the fetal position, wearing the dry clothes and cocooned in their blanket, her wet coat draped over her legs. She'd found some newspapers inside the boxcar and was lying on them rather than directly on the frigid metal floor.

Lindsay arranged the smallest pieces of wood into a volcano-shaped stack just inside the opening of the boxcar. Then she reached for their bag, from which she removed a new flint. She picked up a few pieces of newsprint and balled them up, tucking them into the base of the kindling. Her gaze drifted to her hand, and in a fit of temper she tore off the bandage that was wrapped around broken fingers. Lindsay examined the braced digits with disgust. She had been careless when it came to Albert and those French bastard cousins. She couldn't let that happen again. Not when Ginny was depending on her.

A few failed tries and Lindsay was able to create a spark. The wood wasn't as dry as she'd have liked, but eventually it did burn, producing a fair amount of warmth. The fire was close enough to the door that most of the smoke was drawn outside. She tossed her bandage into the flickering flames, wondering if she should wake Ginny and have her move closer to the warmth.

Lindsay didn't have to wonder for long.

Ginny was in that confusing, murky space between consciousness and dreaming. She could feel the scratchy wool of her blanket against her chilled cheek, hear every gust of wind. But there was a vague detachment from the sensations, as though her brain knew she was experiencing them but her body couldn't dredge up the energy it took to care.

She pulled the blanket more tightly around herself as her thoughts drifted from the wintry scene at the railway yard to a six-story tenement on Orchard Street. Home. The sensations here seemed more real, tangible. And the smell of old wood and dust washed over her senses, bringing with it the security of family. She climbed into bed next to her sister, her heart bursting with love. There was the faintest hint of smoke in the air, but she was so happy, it didn't matter.

Lindsay poked at the fire and added a few heavier sticks to the flames. They were even wetter than the kindling had been and they began to hiss and spit, sending a light cloud into the boxcar as Lindsay fanned them.

Ginny wrinkled her nose at the smell. My feet are cold. But how can I be cold if there is...She rolled over in bed and shook Alice's shoulder. Alice's body flopped towards Ginny, her face shriveled and burned. Too horrified to move, her horror grew when her sister's damaged face morphed into Lindsay's. Ginny's eyes flew open and a bloodcurdling scream was torn from her throat."FIRE!"

Lindsay nearly jumped out of her skin and she flew to feet as the same moment Ginny did.

Ginny tore the blanket from her body and scrambled to the rear of the boxcar on wobbly legs. Her back slammed against the steel so hard that she dislodged several chunks of snow from the roof and they fell heavily to the ground near the door. "Fire," she cried again, her eyes flicking around wildly as her mind frantically tried to reconcile what she was seeing now with her dream and the gut-churning vision of her sister."Alice? Mama!"

"Ginny, calm down."Lindsay bolted to the back of the car and grabbed hold of Ginny, but the other woman violently wrenched free from her grasp. They both stumbled a few steps and Lindsay cried out as the splint snapped off her fingers and clattered to the floor.

"Let. Me. Go!" Ginny backed away from Lindsay as though she was terrified of her, but she had no place to go. Their eyes locked and held, and Ginny had a blinding burst of recognition that made no sense. What was her friend doing in her family's apartment? She was burned but..."There's a fire, can't you see that?"

Ginny's eyes were wild and confused, and even in the dim light Lindsay could see the furious pounding of Ginny's pulse against her pale throat, fogged breath escaping her nose and mouth with every harsh pant."Ginny, you're dreaming. You-"

"We have to leave!" Ginny darted forward and grabbed Lindsay in a movement so frantic it tore the tattered remains of the bandages from her hands. "We need to run!"

Lindsay's heart twisted in her chest as the magnitude of her error hit home. Stupid. The fire. I should have told her. She swallowed hard to keep from bursting into tears herself."Ginny," she spoke softly, stroking her friend's cheeks, but in the very next heartbeat she understood that that wouldn't work.

"NO! NO! NO!"The younger woman was beside herself. Tears welled in beseeching eyes."You don't understand! You have to get out!"

Lindsay grabbed Ginny by the shoulders and shook her hard."Ginny! Wake up. WAKE UP!"

Ginny's entire body jerked as though she'd been slapped. She was so close to throwing up that she wasn't sure she could speak, and she looked around again, this time seeing the dark interior of the of the boxcar, and the small, obviously well-planned fire at its entrance. Her chest heaved and she brought shaking hands to her face."Lindsay?" she rasped brokenly.

Lindsay closed her eyes and willed her thumping heart to slow. She felt lightheaded."Yes."Thank you."It's me." With the smallest of tugs Ginny's body fell forward, and she wound her arms around her, feeling Ginny's legs give way.

"Lindsay." Ginny buried her face against Lindsay's neck, greedily absorbing the warmth and scent of her friend's skin as though it was more vital than the air she breathed. And for that brief moment in time-it was. She began to sob.

"Shhh... you're safe now."She turned her body so that Ginny's back would be to the flames."There's no fire, at least not one that I'd let hurt you."I'd die first. She unconsciously tightened her hold on Ginny until a soft gasp broke her spell. Lindsay instantly relaxed her arms."Did... did I hurt you?"

Ginny sniffed raggedly."No. Feels good," she murmured.

"Okay, then. Let's get comfortable." Lindsay eased them both down to the floor, her back sliding against the cold wall."I should have told you I was going to build a fire. I don't know what I was thinking. I just assumed... Ugh. I am so sorry."

"Am I going insane?" Ginny wondered out loud, her voice the barest of whispers. "You're really all right?" She pressed her cheek against Lindsay's throat, feeling her strong pulse against her skin.

"Me?" She didn't know what Ginny was talking about but decided it didn't really matter. Lindsay pressed her cheek into Ginny's soft, mussed hair."I'm just great. And you're not insane. You just woke up in a strange place, didn't know where you were or what the hell was going on, and pitched a fit." She waved her hand dismissively and wryly explained, "Happens to me all the time."

A tiny chuckle was forced from Ginny's throat. She pulled back just far enough to see Lindsay's face and gave her a trembling smile as gentle fingers traced her cheek for a split second before tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear.

Ginny's glistening blue eyes and tearstained cheeks tore her friend's heart in two.

On a sudden swell of courage Ginny begged, "Don't leave me. Please."

Lindsay's mouth worked in vain as she struggled to speak around the lump in her throat. Leave you? "I..." A painful swallow."I won't leave you, Ginny. I swear."

Ginny nodded and closed her eyes as she snuggled closer. Her lips grazed Lindsay's ear and she whispered through her tears, "I know it's not forever, Lindsay. But... please just don't let go of me tonight. I need-"

"Never." Lindsay's adjusted her arms around Ginny, mentally daring anyone or anything to deny them this comfort. Finally, Ginny's breathing evened out as her breaths slowed and lengthened. Lindsay felt the tightly coiled body in her arms relax and eventually go limp. She reached out with one leg and was able to inch Ginny's blanket over to them from the boxcar floor.

The aftermath of the excitement had left her with the chills, and she awkwardly wrapped the blanket over them both, grateful for its added warmth. There would be no sleep for her tonight, however.

The noise they'd made had surely alerted everyone in the yard that there were two women in this boxcar, and although she'd stayed in this very car several times and in places far worse, it was different now that she had someone who depended on her. Someone good, who mattered, and didn't belong in a place like this. Someone who listened to her and laughed with her and whose smile warmed her from the inside out.

Lindsay studied the small, dancing flames of the fire with unseeing eyes. She was still watching them intently when the last of the ashes burnt out and the first rays of the sun began to creep into the boxcar, painting the floor. In those moments of transition between night and day, Lindsay accepted something about herself that was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. She didn't want to let go of Virginia Chisholm-ever.

A wistful sigh broke the silence. Nothing, it seemed to Lindsay, was ever simple."What am I going to do now?" she murmured into the frosty night air, pressing her cheek against soft hair and allowing her eyes to flutter closed. And when you find those kids, how the hell am I going to tell you goodbye?

Chapter Six.

Lindsay roused Ginny with a gentle shake of her arms, dropping her lips to a chilled ear to murmur quietly. She knew the young redhead would want to get back to the bakery as soon as possible so that they could leave for the orphanage, despite the fact that they'd both be starting out exhausted. It was the first time since they'd met that Lindsay had awakened before her friend. It felt odd, their normal routine already as comfortable as well-worn shoes.

Ginny's body was still plastered to Lindsay when she heard a low hum in her ear and was tugged reluctantly from a heavy slumber. She pulled away slowly, not wanting to leave the warm safe haven of slim arms. Bleary eyes tried to focus on the face so close to hers and she yawned as she got her bearings.

For both women, there was a split second of nervousness, when the intimacy of the position of their bodies flashed through them. They froze and a current of pure emotion moved freely between two sets of slightly bloodshot eyes. But it passed quickly and Ginny's face wrinkled into a heartfelt, if tired, grin."Mornin', Spinach Leaf," she whispered softly, her voice rough with sleep.

Lindsay smiled back, the gentle teasing welcome after the trauma of the night before."One of these days you'll run out of vegetables," she warned, opening her arms so Ginny could stand and stretch. She rolled her shoulders, then neck, wincing at their stiffness.

Ginny only snorted."Too bad for you I happen to love vegetables. They didn't call where we lived Orchard Street for nothing. Brrr." She wrapped her arms around herself, already missing Lindsay's warmth. A glint of metal on the floor caught her eye and she moved a few paces, bending to retrieve the splint that had been torn from Lindsay's fingers the night before. She shot a questioning glance at the other woman, who merely shrugged one shoulder as she stuffed their blanket into the sack.

"I'm fine," Lindsay insisted."I hardly felt a thing."She wiggled her fingers as evidence, her voice cracking slightly at the unexpected twinge of pain the action caused.

A single red eyebrow lifted and stayed.

Shit.

Ginny grumbled something to herself that her friend couldn't make out. If the deep crease in her normally smooth forehead was any indication, Ginny was not happy.

"I need to fix it," she told Lindsay in no uncertain terms.

Lindsay sighed as she fought with herself. Though she wholeheartedly enjoyed it when Ginny paid almost any kind of attention to her, which was often, at that moment she was stiff, hungry, and wishing for an outhouse. In short, just not in the mood to be fussed over."No, you don't. The splint was bothering me anyway." Lindsay made a face. "I burned that nasty bandage."

It wasn't a complete lie. Her fingers were sore, but the bones had knitted and as long as she was careful she really didn't think she needed the splint. When Ginny remained almost eerily quiet, she added, "We should get going. Ester said to be there right after dawn and it's at least a fifteen minute walk from here."

Ginny's gaze strayed out of the boxcar where it stayed for several heartbeats before returning to Lindsay, where it settled uneasily."I need to fix it, Lindsay," she repeated softly, but this time there was a hint of pleading to her voice that Lindsay was powerless to ignore.

Lindsay blew out a frustrated breath, but she wasn't really mad."Fine."She lifted her hand for Ginny's inspection.

Ginny half smiled and set to work quickly, using a strip of cloth torn from the hem of Bertha's dress, which they'd saved for emergencies, all the while quietly insisting that without the splints Lindsay's strong, beautiful fingers might not heal properly. Head bent as she concentrated on her task, Ginny murmured the tender words casually. They fell from her lips as though they were the most natural thing in the world, totally unaware of the profound effect they had on Lindsay.

Impulsively, Ginny lifted Lindsay's hand and gently pressed her lips to long fingers. She swallowed the apology for last night that was on the tip of her tongue and did her best to ignore Lindsay's surprised gasp at the kiss.

For her part, the stupefied brunette couldn't have been rendered any dumber if she'd been kicked in the head by a mule. An incredulous stare on her face, she watched Ginny stand. My first kiss, her mind crowed, in a state of shocked delight.

Ginny gave Lindsay's leg a gentle pat, privately thrilling at the slightly dreamy look on Lindsay's face."All done."She licked her lips and for the first time Lindsay noticed that she was squirming a little."Now I need to um...."

Lindsay chuckled. She'd learned what 'um' meant their first day out of the hospital."So? Go."

Ginny frowned and spoke between clenched teeth."So, those men will see me."

"See you?"

"It is daylight out." The frown deepened.

Lindsay burst out laughing, showing a flash of the teenager behind the rail-rider. In fact, she was so happy she felt like singing. Except that she couldn't carry a tune. Hell, I might just do it anyway. Except I don't know any songs. Unperturbed, she said, "Those bums are still sleeping."Gracefully, she pushed herself to her feet then stumbled to the entrance of the boxcar, groaning in relief as the blood began flowing into the leg that had been asleep for most of the night. "Gambling or the cops would be the only thing to rouse them at this hour."

Ginny looked a little confused. It was morning wasn't it? She'd usually headed out well before dawn to begin her trek to work.

"It's one of the few benefits of the lifestyle," Lindsay explained patiently, smirking at Ginny's bewildered look."We don't live by the clock."She cocked her head to the side."More like a railroad schedule, I guess. But the when and where we go is still up to us."

"You're sure?"

"About which part?" Lindsay teased.

"Lindsay!"Ginny was shifting from one foot to the other. She looked longingly to the very back of the boxcar and Lindsay's eyes widened in reaction.

"Oh, no you don't!" A single finger pointed outside."Out you go."

Relief flooded through Ginny. Needing no further encouragement, she snatched up a piece of old newsprint from the boxcar floor and fairly flew out of the door. Her feet crunched loudly on the snow as affectionate brown eyes followed her exit, then glanced down at tingling fingers in awe.

Ester let the women into the back door of the bakery, which wasn't open to the public for another ten minutes. Ginny had changed back into her dress in a vain attempt to look as respectable as possible to the orphanage. Lindsay had their sack slung over her shoulder and had, thankfully, been spared the request of changing out of her male attire. Apparently, Ginny considered Lindsay dressing like a man to be preferable to her dressing like a whore.