For a magical breath, all occupants of the station appeared frozen in time, respectfully awaiting the thunder before they resumed their business.
Obligingly, a rumble preceded a boom above so brash, Alexandra was convinced that if the awning didn’t conceal the sky, they’d have all borne witness to a collision of the clouds violent enough to render such a roar.
Now that most of the passengers had disembarked for their destinations, a bevy of soggy merchantmen and their workers broke against the train like a wave at low tide. Boxcar doors were thrown open on rusted rails and uncouth voices shouted orders and curses in time to the dance of lifting and lowering merchandise to the ground below the passenger platform.
A ramp was lifted onto a livestock car, and a cadre of workers coaxed four skittish thoroughbred horses down the incline by their leads and out to an awaiting coach.
One voice rose above the tumult, commanding the same rapt attention from rough-hewn men as the thunder.
Alexandra squinted across the platform admiring the horseflesh and hoping to identify which man belonged to the distinctly masculine voice. There’d been a resonance to it. Something sonorous and commanding. It plucked the same vibrations within her as ancient cathedral bells.
“He’s too unsettled,” the voice called from the cavern of the boxcar as two lead ropes were tossed from the gloom. “You two there—keep the tension on the rope until I can get his blinders on.”
With the gentry gone—other than Alexandra—Smythe slithered between the remaining travelers, darting toward the livestock car as though a mighty wonder was inside.
What commanded such curiosity? The beast, or the man?
Smythe snatched the rope and cautiously tugged until it ran out of slack. His resolution almost made up for his lack of stature as he wrapped the rope several times around his forearm and wrist before locking it in his grip.
Alexandra stood too far off to warn him of his folly, and dearly hoped that someone else might be observant enough to do so.
No such luck.
A sturdy footman bent to grasp the rope on the opposite side of the plank, but before he could secure it, another streak of lightning blinded them all.
An inhuman scream rent the storm before the largest stallion Alexandra had ever seen leaped from inside the car in a graceful arc, clearing the ramp altogether.
The moment his hooves met the earth, he leaped and bucked with alarming grace and speed. Pandemonium erupted as the dark bay reared on his hind legs, striking out at whoever was unlucky enough to be in his path.
Several men went down. It all happened so quickly, she couldn’t tell if they’d fallen, been kicked, or merely dove out of the way.
Another figure appeared in the doorway of the railcar, a towering man to match the thunderous voice commanding everyone to get back.
At the sound of the man’s bellow, the stallion stopped its flailing, and simply bolted. Not toward the trainyard or the road, but toward the still-emptying passenger platform not fifteen strides away. Smythe gave a yelp as he was yanked into the air, and an audible crack might have been his shoulder dislocating.
If he was lucky.
Alexandra glanced behind her to ascertain if any passengers were left, spying an elderly couple frantically helping each other toward the cloakroom. Beyond them, a bleary-eyed mother struggled to heave a carpetbag and push a pram. A girl of perhaps five clutched at her skirts, pointing to the advancing stallion with a screech. The mother turned to admonish the girl, but her words died as she spotted the steed. She froze for a precious, petrified moment before dropping her bag and doing what she could to wrestle both children out of the way.
Turning back, Alexandra gaped at how much closer the stallion had galloped in a matter of seconds.
Poor Smythe! Snagged in the rope he’d wound around his arm, he was dragged like a sack of grain through the mud. His head barely avoided the horse’s churning hooves. He worked vigorously to unwind himself, but she couldn’t tell if he made headway.
Alexandra searched the vicinity for help for one more frantic breath. No man could be found on the platform, conductor, constable, workman, or otherwise.
Why did she bother looking? When had a man ever come to her aid?
The septuagenarian couple had almost shuffled to the relative safety of the cloakroom, but the mother had no chance.
An idea occurred to Alexandra as a crack of thunder spurred the creature on.
Sweat bloomed inside her gloves.
Time slowed as the bay stallion gathered his muscles for the small leap from the ground onto the platform.
The metal of horseshoes clattered like hammers against the planks. He shot past Alexandra and aimed his one-ton body toward the terrified mother and the few panicking passengers beyond.
Alexandra dropped her umbrella and leaped toward one of the long ropes trailing behind the beast.
Seizing it in her gloved hands, she set her feet and leaned her hips back, putting all her weight into yanking the horse’s lead around.
The stallion’s head jerked to the side, and with a recalcitrant neigh, his monstrous body followed.
There was no time to think.
Until the whites disappeared from the stallion’s eyes, she had to keep him off balance. She darted toward him, tucking her body next to his long middle as she tugged his lead forcefully around with her, compelling him to turn in a continuous circle.
Belatedly, she noticed the other lead rope was empty. The stallion’s jump somehow scraped Smythe from his lead.
A quick glance found the young porter in the mud, unmoving.
The beast snorted and tossed his head, but after a few circles, his stamping turned to prancing, which she considered a victory.
It occurred to her with a sense of growing alarm that she hadn’t the slightest idea what to do next. The man with the compelling baritone had mentioned blinders. On the next rotation, she snatched up her open black umbrella, and somehow managed to lower it over both their heads, narrowing their entire scope of the world to that of each other.
Alexandra kept her eyes locked with the breathtaking creature, the vapors of her breath keeping time with the deep pants of his flaring nostrils.
“There you are,” she crooned, maintaining their circles, but slowing the pace. “I’m not fond of thunderstorms either, all told. Or crowds of rowdy men. Is it any great wonder you’ve misbehaved?”
The beast snorted his displeasure.
“I agree. You have every right to be cross,” she commiserated. “You didn’t ask to be dragged here in a cramped and cold train. What you need is a dry paddock, some fresh hay, and warm mash to wait out the storm. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
As pleasant as her one-sided conversation may have appeared, Alexandra wished someone, anyone, would relieve her of the beast. Now that the mother and children were safe, a sudden weakness in her knees threatened an imminent collapse. If she stopped, she’d surely melt into a puddle of quaking nerves.
Both she and the creature tensed when another flash of lightning blinked around them, but the umbrella kept him steady as they continued their haphazard merry-go-round.
She breathed out a sigh, and resumed murmuring nonsensical pleasantries to the stallion. Dim sounds from outside permeated their odd little universe. The chaos of the men below the platform. The crying of an infant. The intensifying patter of rain against the shingled roof.
Heavy boots taking measured steps up the platform stairs.