"I will. You belong to me."

"The hell I do."

"I'll follow you to this Saddlebury and—"

"Salisbury, and you'd have to swim the goddamn ocean."

"I'll do it. I'll find a way. You'll see that I'll find a way to—" Her voice broke and she had to stop.

"Dammit." His head lowered, his gaze fixed on the ridged metal of the step. "Why the hell do you have to be so damned stubborn?"

"Take me," she whispered. She did not know what else to say, what to offer him. "Please. If I stay, I'm scared someday I'll be like her. I ... don't like it there."

He stood there, his shoulders hunched as moment after moment passed. "Oh, what the hell!" He whirled, jumped back down on the platform. His big, freckled hands grasped her waist and he effortlessly picked her up and lifted her onto the train. "Jesus, you're tiny. You don't weigh anything at all."

Had he given in? She was afraid to believe it. "That doesn't matter. I'm small for my age, but I'm very strong."

"You'd better be. I guess you can trail along, but it don't mean anything. I'm not your father and you'll call me Patrick like anybody else."

"Patrick," she repeated obediently.

"And you'll damn well earn your keep."

"If you say so." She held tight to the iron guardrail as the relief pouring through her made her dizzy with delight. "You won't be sorry. I'll make it up to you. There's nothing I won't do to make it—"

"Wait here and I'll talk to the conductor about letting you on board." He turned away from her. "Christ, he'll probably make me buy a ticket for you. I spend years building this damn railroad and now they make me pay hard cash for—"

"Two tickets."

He stopped and slowly turned back to her. His tone was ominously soft. "Two tickets?"

She braced herself. "Li Sung." She lifted her arm and waved it at the small, thin young man who had been following her and now stood waiting in the shadow of the station house. "He's goin' too." At her signal the Chinese boy limped forward, carrying a knapsack and a worn, dilapidated carpet bag. "He's my friend. He won't be any trouble."

"No trouble? He's a cripple."

"He can cook," she said quickly. "You know he can cook. You had some of his stew once at Frenchie's. And he's smarter than almost anyone I know. He's teaching me to read and cipher and knows all about herbs and—"

"No," Patrick said flatly. "I ain't draggin' no cripple along. The chink goes back."

"He has to go with us." He was scowling again. What if he changed his mind and sent her away too? Yet she couldn't leave Li Sung. She went on urgently. "You're letting me go along and Li Sung is seventeen, almost a man. He'll be able to help you more than—" Patrick's expression wasn't softening. "He won't bother you. I'll take care of him."

Patrick looked at her incredulously.

"I can do it. Just buy him a ticket." She whispered, "Please."

"You think I'm made of money?"

"I can't leave without him. Frenchie does terrible things to him."

Li Sung stopped beside them, his glance going from Jane's face to Patrick's. "I am going?"

Jane gazed pleadingly at Patrick.

"Dammit to hell." Patrick whirled and started down the platform toward the uniformed conductor who was talking to the engineer in his cab. "Only as far as Omaha. I'll be damned if I tote him with me any farther."

Jane's breath escaped in a little rush. "It's all right. Get on the train, Li Sung." "Where is this Omaha?"

"A long way, I think." Jane was a bit vague about that too. "And by that time I'll think of a way to make him keep you with us all the way. He's not a hard man."

Li Sung smiled bitterly. "But he is Irish and the Irish do not like my race."

"I'll find a way," Jane repeated. "Just stay out of his sight for a while."

As she opened the door to the passenger coach, she felt the floor suddenly vibrate beneath her feet and froze in alarm. The motion felt . . . odd. Though she could not remember a time when she had not been dragged with her mother from tent city to tent city as Frenchie followed the construction crews who laid the tracks, she had never actually been on a train before.

Li Sung nodded understandingly as he met her gaze. "Much power. I can see why they call it the iron horse."

She shook her head. "It's more like the dragons you told me about, breathing fire and smoke and swishing their tails." She went on down the aisle ahead of him. "We'll get used to it."

Li Sung nodded as he set the knapsacks on the rack above her head and the carpet bag beside her. "If it is possible to become used to dragons."

"It's possible." She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. The air smelled of stale cigars and the fresh-cut wood and coal in the fuel box by the stove at the front of the car. She must become accustomed to the vibration, the scents, the noise that was to make up this new life. "It's going to be all right, Li Sung. You'll see, we're going to be—"

A mournful whimper suddenly issued from the carpet bag.

"Oh, damn, I hoped he'd stay asleep." Jane glanced furtively out the window and saw Patrick still arguing with the conductor. She quickly opened the carpet bag. Immediately a brown and white muzzle poked into view. She gently stroked the soft fur on the head of the scrawny beagle pup. "Hush, not now. No noise."

"I told you not to bring the stray."

Her head lifted and she glared fiercely at Li Sung. "Sam's only six weeks old. Frenchie would have let him starve like he did his mother and the other pups. I had to bring him."

A small smile lit Li Sung's sallow face as he nodded resignedly. "I know, it is your nature. Still, your father will not be pleased."

"He doesn't know . . . yet." She quickly closed the carpet bag and thrust it at Li Sung. "You'd better take him up to the front of the car and stay there until I come for you."

Li Sung shrugged and took the carpet bag. "He will probably throw me and the pup off the train."

"No, he won't. I won't let him. I'll just convince him we'll need a guard dog in—" She paused a minute, trying to remember the name of the town for which they were destined. "Salisbury."

"And how will you do that?"

"I'll just keep at him and never give up." She set her jaw. "If you want something bad enough, you can make it happen. You just keep on going until everybody else gets tired of fighting."

"Let us hope he grows weary before we reach this Omaha." Li Sung limped down the aisle toward the far end of the car.

Her father had finished his discussion with the conductor and was striding down the platform, his expression distinctly displeased.

Father. She must remember not to call him that, she thought wistfully. He would not acknowledge her as kin, and it would only anger him. Perhaps, if she worked very hard, if she made herself useful enough, someday he would let her use the word.

The piercing blast of the whistle made her jump and then grab hold of the wooden seat as the train lurched forward.

She heard Patrick's obscene exclamation as he loped the last few yards, jumped for the steps, and pulled himself on the train.

Steam frosted the cold air outside the window as the black dragon began to glide slowly away from the hastily erected shacks and weather-stained tents that was Promontory Point.