Her heart thumping forcefully in her chest and blinking back tears, Summer quickly turned away from the sight. Would she ever be loved like that? She plucked her fingers at the high fitting neckline of her heavy wool dress, no match for the western heat, although it was quite a bit dryer than she was used to back east. She should have worn her cotton dress today, but it was so wrinkled that she had left it in her trunk, which she supposed the train employees should be unloading just about now. She adjusted her small bonnet and swiped a hand down the length of her skirt. Lifting her chin, she sat down on a highly polished oak bench underneath the windows on the west side of the building to wait for her soon-to-be husband to pick her up from the train station. Would she recognize him? After all, that photograph was so old! Her back straight, her feet together, and her hands folded in her lap, Summer hoped that no one could sense her increasing panic as she continually swept her gaze over the crowd of people in the station, watching for Mister Kearny.
