“You are Briar Rose Taylor?” asked the giant.
I set down my traveling bag. Despite his size, the man looked nervous. We were the only sojourners at the train station yet his eyes darted about as if he were expecting an ambush. I walked forward, right hand outstretched. “I am. You are Abraham Wheat?”
He shook my hand gingerly, as if it were made of spun sugar. He seemed to exhale, to relax, ever so slightly. “The manner in which Miss Helena described you, I had almost come to expect a giant.”
I nodded. “Miss Von Laude is given to presenting her view of the world in large terms.”