Ribbons of Steel (11 page)

Emily hoped Marian was right. They still had a ways to go without having to worry about an Indian attack.

The two boys became subdued once again, and she welcomed the quiet as the afternoon disappeared. She rested her head against the window and shut her eyes. Her arms and legs were as limp and as heavy as bed sheets on wash day thanks to the medicine she had taken back in Detroit.

“My dear,” Marian nudged her in a soft, caring voice. “Why don’t you find your berth and have a good rest? The sleeping car on this train isn’t too far back; you can settle in for the night. Let me call the conductor.”

“Thank you, Marian, I appreciate your concern.”

****

By the time they got to the endless flats of Nebraska and Wyoming the next day, Emily was past caring what the outside vistas held in store. Others on the train became restless, too. Mrs. Aderley and her children were in conversation, and even she looked annoyed.

Having had enough of the confinement of the sitting car, Emily stood, gathered her gingham skirt with one hand, and using the other, balanced herself against the rocking of the train on her way to the observation car. Careful so as not to trip down the carpeted aisle, she made her way toward the back of the coach, not an easy feat with the swaying of the train.

The older gentleman with a long gray beard and mustache she’d learned was a Mr. O’Leary, sat hunched against the window, his hat down over his eyes at a comical angle. As Emily passed him, she clutched the back of his seat for support. Just then the man snorted, and her hand flew to her bosom. Lord, was she ever going to survive this trip?

She hadn’t paid much attention to the other passengers, but she took the time now to observe a few of them. This man’s hat had ridden even farther down over his face, and his snoring was making the cap flap up and down. Catching her balance, she once more made her way to the observation car. This time her eyes settled on Mrs. Young who was trying to pacify her infant, now crying loud enough to wake the dead. So much for a contented baby. Head bent, the young mother nuzzled the infant, cooing in a vain attempt to quiet her child. Emily resisted the urge to comfort the babe herself.

The narrow passage between cars rocked back and forth over the couplings of the train as it clacked along the tracks, making walking between the cars dangerous. Emily looked straight ahead and made her way over the length between the cars. The breeze from the open car tugged at her hair. She brushed at the errant tendrils as they sprang loose from under her bonnet. She took in a deep, steadying breath and sank into one of the observation seats where she was afforded an unobstructed view of the Wasatch Rocky Range.

“We’re just north of Salt Lake City,” Marian said from behind her. “Just look at those snow-capped mountains. Aren’t they majestic? I hope you don’t mind my joining you. I decided I needed some fresh air.”

Emily rested her arms alongside the open window and leaned her chin on them for support. The sight was wondrous. Although the majestic mountain tops were covered in snow, the desert they passed through bloomed in a rainbow of colors. Instead of seeing herds of bison she’d anticipated, prairie dogs popped in and out of holes and frolicked everywhere. And the weather had changed. No longer cool or damp, the dry, warm air relaxed her. The desert, despite the delicate, wispy flowers, looked as if it hadn’t seen rain in months.

Emily breathed in the fresh scents; warm and filling the senses, a welcome change from the stuffy, odorous passenger car. The smell of the kerosene lanterns had become nauseating over the past several days. Would she ever get the odor out of her clothes? They were sure to reek for months.

The Aderley boys had followed their mother, as well, and were leaning over the side of the car, counting the prairie dogs. Up ahead, Emily spotted a huge wooden trestle in the bend of the tracks. They would soon be going over the bridge. A frightening-looking contraption, the trestle resembled corn stalks and bean poles in late harvest. Was it safe? Sturdy enough to carry the long, heavy, iron locomotive as it thundered along the tracks? Why, there had to be at least a mile long drop off to the canyon floor on either side.

Jason and Jonathan spotted the canyon and jumped up and down as they pointed with glee. Their words and laughter were drowned out over the roar of the train as it sped along the rails.

Emily stood, ready to go back inside, then turned to let Marian know of her intentions.

“Marian, I...
Marian!
” Emily exclaimed. The woman frowned, her cheeks pale despite the two bright spots of rouge on her smooth cheeks. “What is it, Marian? What’s wrong?” The worry in her travel companion’s eyes didn’t hide the sparkle of blue, a perfect match to her bright flowered hat and the fine organdy dress of sky blue. The hem billowed in the breeze. But something was wrong.

“We’re stopping,” Marian said. “We can’t get over the trestle. Look.” She pointed. “There’s something in the way.”

The boys gave a hoot, then jumped up and down. “Now we can get off the train. We can explore,” the older of the two yelled, a wide smile taking up most of his face, his long blond bangs clinging to his forehead. He had the same blue eyes as his mother’s, only his eyes sparkled with merriment in the bright afternoon sunshine. Not distress.

“Do you think we’ll see Indians?” the youngest asked, his excitement obvious.

Emily scanned the area. A large object blocked the rails. The train slowed to a crawl. But nothing in the vastness indicated imminent danger. Seth had told her Billy the Kid and the James Brothers were still on the loose. She wondered if they still robbed trains. Were they responsible for the blocked bridge? Stories had grown rampant back east as the rails out west carried goods and money to banks. The tabloids had reported many times both had not made it past the Rockies.

Mrs. Aderley laid a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Now, don’t you worry, Mrs. Carmichael. I’m sure everything will be fine. The engineers know what to do in such cases.”

Emily prayed Marian Aderley was right.

Chapter Eight

Seamus’ wife, Maggie, and her twelve-year-old daughter, Madeline, journeyed overnight on the stagecoach traveling through the Montrose Turnpike. Seth greeted them when they arrived, having spotted them with ease, seeing as they were the only mother and daughter alighting from the stage. Mrs. Flanagan wore a yellow frock with a matching bonnet. Madeline, a shorter version of her mother, was dressed the same, only without the hat—a riot of fiery red locks. And from their looks, they both appeared as if they’d seen better days. The young girl wasn’t holding up any better than her mother.

After introductions, Seth gathered the Flanagan’s cases and loaded them and their travel trunk onto the wagon.

“I’ve arranged tea at the Spinning Wheel just down the street,” Seth informed Seamus’ wife. “It’s not far, but you’ll want to ride on over. You look licked after your long journey.”

“If ya don’t mind, I’d like to walk a bit after being cooped up in this contraption.” Mrs. Flanagan waved his concern away.

“If you’re sure, Ma’am,” Seth said. “I can take your daughter with me, if you like.”

“No need. Just be pointing us in the right direction.”

“You cross the street right here, then walk straight up the boardwalk to the left until you come to the Spinning Wheel. There’s a sign on the front of the building. You can’t miss it. I’ll lead the horses and wagon around so you won’t have to walk all the way back to the station.”

Seth had the wagon and horses hitched to the post outside the Spinning Wheel before the Flanagan’s arrived. He waited for them as they walked down the street, then helped the Missus up the front steps.

The Spinning Wheel, a cozy tea-room and small hotel, catered to wintertime boarders from neighboring farms and students attending the academy. In the summer months, residents found the inn a relaxing place to eat. He figured Mrs. Flanagan and her daughter might like a bite and a chance to relax in refined surroundings before they traveled to the farm. His two charges appeared fragile and pale after their long and tiring trip. Why, Mrs. Flanagan’s daughter’s head had been just a-bobbing up and down as her mother towed her down the street to the tearoom.

Seth opened the door and let the ladies precede him inside. When he entered, he spotted Anna Louise Mitchell first thing. She sat on the far side of the room opposite the door with none other than Mr. Linsky.

Seth’s heart dropped to his feet.

Anna Louise, hearing the tinkle of the bell over the door, looked at him. Her mouth dropped open, then shut immediately. Her face turned crimson, but she didn’t look away. She hadn’t expected to see him either.

Seth smiled, gave a curt nod, lowered his eyes, and continued to see his new charges to a table; as far away from Anna Louise and Mr. Linsky as he could manage. The establishment wasn’t very roomy, so he didn’t get far.

Despite his consternation at being in the same room, Seth covered his displeasure as best he could so as not to alarm the Flanagan’s.

Their waitress, Amanda Huff, rushed to their table and handed them a small hand-printed menu.

“How are you, Seth?” Her sparkling personality was lost on him today. “Is Catherine studying hard for her exams?”

“Not since Ma left. She hasn’t had time,” Seth said.

“I’m here now to help the family,” Mrs. Flanagan cut in. “She’ll have plenty of time. I’ll see to it; don’t you be fretting none.”

“Amanda, this here is Mrs. Seamus Flanagan and her daughter, Madeline, from Philadelphia. They’re going to be staying at the farm for the summer.”

“Please. Ya can be calling me Maggie, dear.” She turned to Seth with a smile, then back to Amanda. “Like I said, I’ll be making sure Seth’s sister has plenty of time to study. What about you? Are you preparing for them, too?”

“I have a job right here. Me and Jed Huckle are just about engaged.” Her smile broadened.

“Tell Jed I said hi,” Seth said. He didn’t know much about Jed other than the boy was a hard worker at the flour mill. Seth wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t become manager one of these days.

“So, what can I get for you today? Are you interested in a meal, or one of our special berry pies and tea?”

“Just tea and maybe a biscuit for me and my daughter, thank you.”

“Seth?”

“I’ll have the pie.”

After they had given their order, Seth couldn’t help himself but glance over at Anna Louise. Yep. She watched him; their gazes met. He caught the glow of her cheeks a moment before she lowered her eyes and turned back around. Seth seethed as Mr. Linsky leaned across the table and took hold of Anna Louise’s gloved hands, then looked at him. Seth gritted his teeth. The burly man’s tactics worked. Anna Louise’s attention was once again drawn back to the wealthy lumberman.

“She’s such an adorable girl,” Maggie said.

“Yes, she is,” Seth agreed. Mrs. Flanagan was talking about Amanda, but Seth meant Anna Louise.

Seth’s chest ached. For the first time ever, he discovered loneliness in a room full of people. Anna Louise should belong to him, not that old duffer who sat across the table from her.

Seth didn’t consider himself mean spirited, but right now he would enjoy punching Mr. Linsky in the nose. He so badly wanted to talk sense into Anna Louise. Mr. Linsky wasn’t the man for her. No sir!

He
was the man for Anna Louise. Seth. No one else.

He just had to figure out how to convince Anna Louise.

“I’m sorry to be putting you to so much trouble, my dear boy. Your pa said as how you would be able to set things up for us. We won’t be much bother, Madeline and me. For certain we want to be a big help to the family, if we may. I can be helping Catherine with the housework and cooking. Madeline is real good with the young’uns.”

He hadn’t heard much of what she had said, his mind on Anna Louise. Catching the last few words, Seth hoped he hadn’t missed anything important.

“That’s right kind of you. Please, don’t worry. Get settled in and rest for a day or two and then we’ll talk,” Seth told her. “I’m sure Catherine will be more than happy for your help around the house. Pa said the strike was heating up something fierce.”

Seth’s change in topic upset Mrs. Flanagan. He was sorry, but he needed to know what was going on. If there were going to be a nation-wide strike, he would have to find another means of transporting his milk and goods. He had picked up more business recently, and if the trains stopped running, he would lose money, not to mention time and effort.

The family would be able to survive the winter if they were careful. But he couldn’t stop fretting. Why, just worrying about Catherine’s schooling, the farm, his mother out west, and the strike in Philadelphia, and now Anna Louise...

Seth ran his hands through his hair that had been tossed by the breeze while driving across town. Maybe he should be the one put in an institution—not his mother. If Anna Louise had accepted his offer of marriage, all of his problems would be taken care of.

Didn’t she realize how much he needed her? Loved her?

“…so we had to leave as soon as possible without making a fuss,” Mrs. Flanagan said. “I’m looking forward to spending time in the country with these delightful rolling hills like the green fields of my Ireland. Seamus assured me and Madeline we’d love the New York countryside so much we wouldn’t be wanting to go back home to our small tenement flat in Philadelphia.”

Once again Seth hadn’t listened to a word Seamus’ wife had said. They had been served tea and pie, and he hadn’t even been aware. The Flanagans had done a fair job cleaning their plates. He had to stop thinking about Anna Louise or his whole life wasn’t going to be worth a tinker’s damn.

Seth cleaned his plate and wiped his mouth and hands on the dainty cloth napkin. “We should be leaving, Ma’am. By the time we hit the turnoff to head up the hill to the homestead, the darkness will have settled in. The first mile up is kinda bumpy, but then it gets better. There are extra blankets for you to sit on to cushion the bumps.”

Not able to leave the Spinning Wheel without taking one last look at Anna Louise, Seth turned only to find her facing in the opposite direction. He shook his head, shut the door behind them, and walked down the two steps to the boardwalk. He heaved a deep sigh, then led Seamus’ family across the street to the waiting wagon. There was a hole the size of a cannon ball in his chest where his heart should be. Farming might be his calling, but love, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be his destiny.