Love's abiding joy (Love Comes Softly #4) (4 page)

34

a bit panicky as she watched all of their luggage being carted away. Was the man truly dependable? Would he be
sure
to put them on the right train? Would everything arrive safely? Was it all properly labeled? What would they ever do if it did not make it?

But Clark seemed to have no such fears. Seemingly relieved and confident that he had all things cared for, he took her arm.

"Well, Mrs. Davis," he teased, "here we are in the big city. What shall we be doin' with it?"

"Doin'?" asked Marty blankly.

"Well, they say thet a big city is full of all manner of excitin' an' forbidden things. Ya be wishin' to go lookin' fer some of 'em?"

Marty looked shocked.

"Me?"

Clark laughed at her literal interpretation. "No, not you. An' not me either. I'm jest funnin' ya. I have heard thet they have some very good eatin' places, though. I could sure use me some good food. Somethin' about sandwiches thet don't stay with a man fer long. Ya interested?"

"I reckon," replied Marty, though in secret she found herself far more interested in what the people would be wearing than in what they ate.

"Well, let's jest find us a hotel room to git settled an' leave our belongin's, an' then we'll see what we be a-findin'."

They found a hotel quickly enough. It was the biggest one Marty had ever seen. She looked around her at the high, ornate ceiling, the glistening hanging lights, and the elaborately paneled doors.
This must cost nigh on to a fortune,
she thought, but she did not voice her opinion to Clark.

Clark was handed a key to a room and given a few instructions, and then he took Marty's arm and they began to climb the stairs--many of them. Marty did not count them as they climbed. She was much too busy studying the attractive paper on the walls and the colorful carpeting beneath their feet. At length, Clark stopped before a door and used the key. He pushed the door open and then stood to the side to allow

35

Marty to enter. The room before them was the most elegant Marty had ever seen. She looked about her, studying carefully every detail. She wanted to be able to describe everything in the room to her daughters.

The wallpaper was a richly patterned blue and the draperies were deep blue velvet with thick fringes. The bedspread, heavy and brocaded, had a cream background with some blue threads interwoven. The ornate chest appeared to have been hand-carved, and there was a special stool or small table on which one rested his cases. The imported carpet was a riot of rich purples, crimsons, blues, and golds, all blended together in an attractive overall pattern. Marty took it all in and then turned to Clark.

"My," she said, then again, "My, I never be a-knowin' thet all of this grandness be possible."

"I jest hope thet this 'grandness' has a comfortable bed," he responded, crossing over to the bed and testing it for softness. "I'm a-thinkin' thet before mornin' I'll likely be pinin' fer the 'grandness' of my own four-poster."

Marty, too, felt the bed. "Feels fine to me," she stated, "though I'm admittin' to feelin' so tired thet a plank floor might even be welcome."

Clark laughed. "Before ya settle fer thet plank floor, let's go see what this here town has to offer an empty stomach." And, so saying, he attempted to lead her from the room.

"Whoa now," argued Marty. "Iffen I'm gonna dine out like a fine lady, I'm gonna need to freshen up first. Goodness sakes, the stage was so hot an' dusty one feels in fair need of a bath an' hairwash."

It took Marty longer to prepare for going out than it did Clark. He waited patiently while she primped and fussed and finally felt confident enough to venture forth. They descended the stairs slowly, and Clark made inquiry as to the location of a nice dining room. Assured that the one in the hotel was one of the finest the city had to offer, they proceeded into an immense room with elaborate columns and deep wine-colored draperies. Marty had never dined in such splendor. She could scarcely take her eyes from the room and its occupants long

36

enough to properly select from the menu. Everything on the stiff card before her looked too fussy, too much, and too expensive. It was hard for her to make up her mind. She wished that she could find something simple like fried chicken or roast beef. Clark asked for the house specialty and, without checking to see what it was, Marty echoed his order.

She tried not to stare, but the people moving about the room and sitting at the white-covered tables seemed to be from another world. She had to take herself consciously in hand and insist that she remember her manners. Still, she was relieved and pleased to notice that she did not stand out in the crowd as "backwoods" or "frumpish." Her daughters had chosen her clothes well. How thankful she was for their knowledge and encouragements.

The meal was delicious, though there was far too big a portion served; Marty, who was not used to wasting anything, had a difficult time leaving the food on her plate and sending it back to the kitchen. She was concerned, too, that the cook might take offense and feel that the food had not pleased her. After she had eaten all she could and pushed back her plate, she still was not sure exactly what she had eaten. It had been very tasty--but not identifiable like her homecooked farm suppers of roast beef, potatoes and gravy. Everything about the city was different.

They ordered French pastries to go with their coffee and lingered over them, enjoying the taste, the atmosphere, and the pleasurable luxury of sitting with no responsibility to hasten them away from the table.

When they felt that it would be impolite to remain any longer, they rose from the table and returned to the lobby. Clark purchased a local paper and tucked it under his arm as they again made their way up the stairs to their room. Marty held her skirt carefully as she climbed; it would never do to step clumsily on her skirt and damage such an expensive hemline.

"So how do you plan on spendin' this lazy evenin', with no mendin' or sewin' in yer hands?" Clark asked, as he opened the door to their room.

37

"Isn't botherin' me none," responded Marty. "As tired as I be feelin', I expect thet sleep sounds 'bout as good to me as anythin' thet I could be doin'."

Clark smiled. "Go on. Tuck yerself in then. Me, I'm jest gonna check the paper an' see what's goin' on in the world."

Marty prepared for bed and crawled between the cool, smooth sheets with a contented sigh. Oh, how tired she was! She longed for a good long sleep. She would be off before you could say--. But she wasn't. Try as she might to relax in the big, soft bed, her mind still kept whirling. She thought of Missie and the family that she was going to see; she thought of Ellie, Luke, Arnie, and Clare back home. Was there anything that she had forgotten to tell them, any reminders that she hadn't given, any instructions that she had missed? Would the baggage really make it on the train? What would it be like sharing the close proximity of a train car with strangers for days on end as they traveled? Marty's mind buzzed busily with questions.

Clark finished reading his paper, prepared for retiring, and slipped in beside her. Soon Marty heard his soft breathing and knew that he slept in spite of the hotel bed. Still sleep eluded her. She stirred restlessly and wished for morning. Once they were actually on that train and headed for Missie's, she was sure that
then
she could relax.

38

Chapter Five

Alarm

In spite of a restless night, Marty roused early the next morning. Anticipation took charge of her once again, driving her from the bed. Clark stirred as Marty threw back the blankets.

"Rooster crow already?" he teased, then shut his eyes again and turned over.

Marty didn't let his joshing bother her but went about her morning preparations. She had already decided on the dress and hat she would wear for their first train ride and carefully worked out the wrinkles with the palms of her hands. She shook out the hat, fluffing up the feather, and stepped back to admire the plume.
My, this is some hat,
she thought. She felt a mite self-conscious about wearing it but then assured herself that all of the fashionable ladies wore them.

Marty dressed carefully and then began packing her nightclothes and her gown of yesterday in her case. The gown smelled dusty and looked bedraggled from the stagecoach ride.
What a shame to pack it away in such a mess!
she fretted.

39

She wished there were some way to freshen it first. She selected a few pages from Clark's newspaper and carefully wrapped the dress in it. Clark seemed not the least disturbed by the crackling newspaper.

Marty finished all there was to do, and Clark still hadn't stirred. She wasn't sure what she should do. She hated to waken him, but what if they were late and missed their train? She had no idea of the time. She crossed to where Clark's vest hung on the back of a chair and fumbled in his breast pocket for his pocket watch.
It isn't there!
Marty's mind flashed to each of the terrible stories she had ever heard about the big city. They were true! Someone must have come into their room in the dead of night and stolen Clark's watch. If his watch was gone, what else had they taken? Marty hurried to her case. Was her cameo from Ellie still there? And what about the gold brooch that Clark had given her two Christmases ago?

Marty had packed them on the very bottom of the suitcase. Carefully now she lifted each item from the case, going down on her knees on the floor to lay things out all around her. When she remembered the hours she had spent carefully packing each item of her clothing, she could have cried. Would she ever get them so neatly arranged again? Many of the gowns she had folded in thin tissue wrap supplied by the dress shops in which she had made her purchases. And now, as she lifted them out, no matter how hard she tried to be careful, she disturbed the garments and wrinkled the tissue. Yet she
had
to know--she had to know if her few items of precious jewelry had been stolen along with Clark's watch. Clark would be so disappointed! His three sons had gone together to purchase the gift for his last birthday, and he had proudly worn the watch chain across his chest.

Marty stopped suddenly in the middle of her search. Perhaps she shouldn't be wasting precious time now. Perhaps she should run down to the front desk and report the loss. Maybe there was a chance to still catch the thief. No, first she must know how many missing things to report. So Marty continued unpacking her case, item by item, laying each one around her

40

in one of the neat piles on the deep blues, golds, wines and scarlets of the carpeted floor.

Marty was almost to the last item when Clark roused from sleep, stirred himself and lifted his head. At first he thought that he must be seeing things. He had seen Marty carefully pack her suitcase in just such a manner only a few short days ago. Was she really packing
again?
Clark shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs of the night. Marty remained as before, lifting each item--and she was taking them
out
of the case!

"Ya repackin'?" Clark asked mildly, and Marty jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, Clark!" she cried. "I'm so glad thet yer finally awake. We've had us thieves in the night." Marty's hands hurried on, emptying the last few items from her case.

"Thieves?"

"Thieves!"

"What ya meanin',
thieves?"

But Marty interrupted him with a glad cry. "Oh, they're still here! Oh, I'm so glad, so glad."

Clark was out of bed by then, looking down on his wife who clasped her precious jewelry to her bosom.

"Look!" she cried. "They didn't find 'em."

"Who find what? I'm not a-followin'--"

"The thieves--the thieves who stole yer watch. Oh, Clark, I'm so sorry. I know how much ya loved thet watch an'--"

"Ya meanin' this watch?" Clark asked, lifting it from the small table by the bed.

Marty gasped.

"Ya found it."

"Found it? I never lost it. I put it there by my bed so's I could check the time in the mornin'."

"Oh, Clark. I checked in yer pockets fer it, an' when I couldn't find it I thought thet someone had--"

But Clark had started to laugh. He pointed at Marty and at the empty case and the heaped-up clothing and held his sides as he laughed uproariously.

At first his outburst miffed Marty, not as yet over her concern and fear during the trying ordeal of the last several

41

minutes. Then she looked about her at the mess that she had created and the watch held dangling from its chain in Clark's hand, and the humor of the situation struck her also; she buried her face in her hands and laughed with Clark.

When she finally had control of herself again, she gasped out, "Well, if this isn't 'bout the dumbest thing thet I've ever done. Jest look at me! I think thet my sleepless nights have really numbed my brain. Oh, Clark, jest look at the mess thet I got here!"

Then a new thought struck her. The repacking of the case was going to take some time if she were going to do it carefully. Perhaps she would need to stuff things into the case and run to catch the train. Nervously, she looked up, her hands quickly returning things to their proper places.

"How much time we got 'fore--"

Clark, understanding the worry in her eyes, assured her that they had far more time than she would ever need for the repacking, even though she was particular and fussy as Aunt Gertie. Marty had never learned any more about Aunt Gertie, but when Clark wanted to make a point of someone's fussiness, he always brought up Aunt Gertie. The boys had taken up the phrase too, though Marty knew for sure that they knew nothing of the mysterious Aunt Gertie.

Marty, relieved that there was plenty of time, carefully set out to put everything back in its proper place while Clark shaved and dressed.

She was still laboring over the open case when Clark stood, hat in hand, all ready to go.

"Be it time?" Marty inquired.

"Take yer time--we still got lots of it. Soon as yer ready we'll go on down an' find us some breakfast. A man can't travel on an empty stomach. Then we'll come back on up an' pick up our things." Clark tipped up Marty's chin and looked into her face with a smile. "Guess we might as well do the rest of our waitin' at the train station. I have me a-feelin' thet yer not gonna rest easy until yer sure thet yer gonna be on thet there train," he added.

Marty packed in the last few items and closed the case.