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if she half-recognised the girl and yet could not recollect where or when she had seen her before. But Carrie was quite certain that she had never before seen this lovely lady – she would not have forgotten!
    â€œAre you belonging the railway?” the lady asked, her voice low and sweet with a slightly strange accent. American, Carrie thought, for she remembered a Yankee who’d worked as a navvy for a time had spoken the same way.
    â€œYes, ma’am.” The courtesy came naturally to her lips. “Me Pa’s the ganger.”
    The lady’s eyes were puzzled.
    â€œHe’s in charge o’ the navvies – workmen, ma’am,” Carrie explained.
    â€œOh, I see. Then is he the man who plans the way the railway should go?”
    â€œNot really. That’s the contractor or the engineer an’ surveyor.”
    â€œThen I guess it’s one of them I want to see. Could you tell me where I might find them?”
    â€œWell …” Carrie hesitated and glanced at Luke.
    Her brother’s eyes were fixed, mesmerised, upon the young girl sitting beside her mother in the gig.
    â€œLuke, do you know where Lloyd Foster might be?”
    Luke did not answer. Carrie prodded him gently. “Luke …?”
    He jumped. “What?”
    â€œI said do you know where Lloyd Foster is?”
    Luke, his eyes still fixed upon the girl, said, “I dunno – oh, down near the bed, I think.”
    â€œThat’s the railway workings, ma’am,” Carrie said.
    â€œThank you, I …”
    At that moment there was a rattle behind them and the shack door flew open.
    â€œWhat the devil …?” As Carrie heard her father’s voice raised in anger, she saw the lady’s eyes move from Carrie’s face to look beyond her. The lovely woman’s green eyes widened and her lips parted in a shocked gasp. Her face turned pale. She must have pulled, involuntarily, upon the reins, for suddenly the pony whinnied and shied, tipping the little gig dangerously. The young girl gave a delicate shriek of alarm whilst her mother fought to control not only the animal but also her own runaway emotions.
    Carrie felt Luke shake off her supporting arm and move forward to help, but already Evan Smithson had moved swiftly and calmly to the horse’s head and Luke’s gangling figure stood uselessly by, his gaze once more returning to the girl’s face.
    Evan, stroking the horse’s nose, grinned up at the woman in the gig. Carrie watched, fascinated.
    â€œYou!” the woman breathed. Words seemed to desert her, for she just said again, as if she could not believe it, “ You !”
    â€œAye, m’lady. It’s me.” Then, almost insolently, he added, “I’m gratified you ain’t forgotten me.”
    The colour was returning to her face. “As if I could!” she muttered bitterly. Then her glance rested briefly upon Carrie and her brothers. “Are these your – children?”
    Evan nodded. “ I married Lucy – you remember her?”
    â€œI do.”
    Evan’s grin widened and he laughed aloud. “ She’s changed – you’d scarce recognise her now.”
    â€œI don’t doubt life with you has altered her,” the lady said wryly. Then she nodded towards Carrie. “But she has the look of her grandmother – Sarah.”
    Evan’s eyes hardened with bitterness.
    â€œSo,” the lady was saying thoughtfully, “you’re a railway builder now, are you?”
    â€œYes, my lovely lady, I am.”
    â€œAnd where – exactly – might your railway be going?”
    Evan’s eyes glinted. “You’ve naught to fear, m’lady. ’ T will not cross your land.”
    A small sigh escaped the beautiful woman’s lips and she said flatly, with what Carrie thought to be exceptional insight, “Across the Trents’ land, I suppose?”
    Then Carrie