The Dawn of a Dream (28 page)

Luellen knew the extra money Leah received would be a welcome addition to her travel savings. For a moment her mind lingered on the mystery surrounding the woman’s presence in Allenwood. In the three months since she’d known her, she’d gotten no closer to learning about her past.

Mrs. Hawks gave her a slight push toward the front door. “If you carry the valise, I’ll bring this little darling. The omnibus will be along any moment.”

They stepped onto the porch, pausing next to Luellen’s trunk. Mrs. Hawks adjusted the hood on David’s cape to protect him from blowing rain. “Both of you take care,” she said as the omnibus driver stopped at the curb. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

Luellen ducked through the rain, climbing into the waiting conveyance. The interior reeked of wet wool. Steam covered the windows. As she’d hoped, Belle held a seat near the front. Luellen made her way down the aisle past passengers clinging to drippy umbrellas and damp parcels.

Sliding onto the seat beside Belle, she said, “I’m glad our trains are leaving near the same time. Gives us a few more minutes together.”

“I’m glad too.” Belle held out her arms and David reached for her. Grasping his sides, Belle stood him on her lap. “Much as I miss my family, I wish I were going to Beldon Grove.”

“You’re just in a hurry to see Franklin,” Luellen teased.

“I confess I am. Letters are a pale substitute. But I’ll miss you and this little fellow too. I’m used to being Auntie Belle.” She bounced David up and down on her knees, eliciting a chortle of delight.

Luellen leaned against her. “The good thing is, David will always have his Auntie Belle.”

When they reached the station, a locomotive was stopped at the platform taking on water. “Oh my. That must be my train.” Belle jumped to her feet. “I need to hurry.”

“You got time,” said a passenger behind them. He cleared a space on the steamed glass and pointed. “The luggage cart ain’t been loaded yet.”

Passengers exited the omnibus in a slow shuffle as people stood and blocked the aisle. Luellen sensed Belle’s anxiety. “Calm down,” she whispered.

“I’m nervous all of a sudden. What if my parents don’t like Franklin?”

Luellen raised an eyebrow. “Of course they’ll like him. Everybody does.” She followed Belle across the platform to the steps of the waiting passenger car.

Belle turned, hugging her. “Have a blessed Christmas.” She grabbed the handrail and climbed into the car.

“Remember your promise to come back,” Luellen called. “I’ll see you in February.”

Bundled against the December cold, Luellen sat close to Franklin in their father’s carriage. Sleet pounded the iron railroad tracks. She shivered, huddling lower under the lap robe. “I don’t see any sign of the train.”

“You’re the one who wanted to leave early. We could’ve stayed home for an extra ten minutes or so.”

“What if Ward arrived in this miserable weather and no one was here to greet him?”

Franklin eyed her. “Sounds like you’re sweet on him.”

“I’m not. He’s your friend. I’m just showing hospitality.”

“Uh-huh.” He released the brake. “I’ll try to get us out of the wind.” When he shook the reins, icy particles showered from the horse’s back. After maneuvering the carriage closer to the station, he set the brake again and leaned back in the seat, tucking his gloved hands under his arms. “How long since you’ve heard from Ward?” His tone was one of idle curiosity.

“A letter arrived just before I came home, so it’s been almost four weeks.”

“Did he have anything to say about me and Belle?”

“No. Why would he? Now that I think of it, he didn’t say much of note. Just that he was going to Pennsylvania and would visit here the week before Christmas.” She poked him in the side. “Are you going to ask him to be your best man when you get married next summer?”

Franklin shot her a sidelong glance and then leaned forward, pointing. “The train. See the smoke?”

She jumped to her feet. “Let’s go. He’ll never see us way over here.”

“You
are
sweet on him.”

“I’m not. Stop saying that.”

The locomotive clanged into the station, clouds of steam obscuring the blowing sleet. Luellen scrambled from the carriage, eager for a glimpse of the man she’d come to know through his letters over the past six months. Franklin’s boots crunched on the ice as he hurried to her side. “Hold on to me. The platform’s slick.”

The cloak on Ward’s dark blue overcoat billowed in the wind when he descended from the passenger car. He paused below the step and glanced around the station. Upon spotting them, he strode toward the shelter of the depot and seized Luellen’s hands in his. “It’s been a long time. You’re even prettier than I remembered.” His ruddy complexion radiated pleasure.

“Thank you.” Warmth from his strong grip traveled up her arms. Flustered, she took a step backward. “We’ve been looking forward to your visit.”

Franklin whistled and pointed at two black silk braids decorating the lower edge of Ward’s sleeve. “I see your promotion’s official.”

“Promotion?” Luellen glanced between the two men.

Ward threw his shoulders back, his eyes seeking hers. “I’m a captain now.” Pride tinged his response.

“Why didn’t you mention the news in your letters?” Luellen heard the whine in her voice and bit the inside of her lip. He didn’t owe her an explanation.

“I wanted to tell you in person. I swore Franklin here to secrecy.”

Luellen wished she understood more about Army life. What did it mean when an officer was promoted, aside from higher pay? She forced an enthusiastic response. “Congratulations. I know your career is important to you.”

“It is, certainly, but—”

Franklin clapped him on the shoulder. “Tell her the rest.”

“There’s my trunk. Want to give me a hand?” Ward took Franklin’s arm and steered him toward the baggage cart. Luellen studied them as they crossed the platform. She couldn’t hear their words, but Ward was shaking his head, his lips moving rapidly.

Papa watched, a surprised expression on his face, as Ward and Franklin struggled up the stairs with Ward’s trunk between them. “I thought he was only staying through Christmas,” he murmured to Luellen. “Looks like he’s planning to settle here.”

She nodded. “I wondered about that myself. We can’t ask him. That would be horribly impolite.”

“Maybe I can find out without asking.” Papa hastened across the entryway and started up the stairs. After the first three steps, he stopped, gasping for air.

Luellen dashed to his side. “Once a day up these stairs is plenty, Papa. They’ll be down in a few minutes.” Anxious, she waited while his breathing returned to normal.

He pressed a hand to his chest before responding. “No need to hover over me. One fussy female in the house is plenty.” His smile took the sting from his words. “If you have to fuss, maybe you better look in on David. I think I hear him.” Papa turned on the stairs, gripping the railing. “It’s time for office hours, anyway.” He pecked her cheek. “See you at supper.”

Luellen watched him walk toward the back door, her heart heavy. Every week he looked more worn. His thick blond hair had turned white over the past year. Now she noticed his shoulders hunched when he walked. Why wouldn’t he go see Dr. Gordon?

Frustrated, she ascended the stairs to care for her son. Across the hallway, Ward and Franklin had shoved the trunk into a corner. They stood with their backs to her, gazing at the sleet rattling the window. Over David’s increasing wails, she heard Ward say, “I’ll wait for the right time. Maybe she won’t—”

He turned and saw her, a smile crossing his face. “May I join you? I’m eager to see your son again.”

“He’s hungry.” Luellen’s cheeks warmed. “Can you wait?”

Ward’s ruddy face turned redder. “Of course.”

“We’ll be in the kitchen,” Franklin said. “Sampling Mama’s baking.”

Luellen eased the door shut after they left and lifted David from his crib. She studied him with fresh eyes, trying to see him as he might look to Ward after six months.

His dark curls covered his head in a wavy cap. Dimples creased his cheeks, his wrists, and his elbows. His chubby feet, encased in knitted boots, kicked free of his long gown. No one could say her baby went hungry.

Once he finished nursing, she smoothed his hair with a soft-bristled brush and slipped a fresh sacque over his shoulders. “Are you ready for company?” she asked, tickling his round belly.

When she entered the kitchen, Ward jumped to his feet. “Would you mind?” He held his arms out toward David.

Mama turned from the stove, smiling. “My grandson’s very sociable.”

David flung himself in Ward’s direction. Luellen held tight to her son’s waist, laughing. “He’s ready to say hello.”

Ward lifted the baby, one hand under his bottom and the other behind his head. His left arm showed no sign of weakness. “Look at him. He’s thriving.” He sat, standing David on his lap. “Brown eyes. When did they change?”

“Gradually over the last month. He’s trying to crawl now too.”

Luellen felt happiness bubble inside as she sat in the warm kitchen and shared David with Ward. The spicy fragrance of holiday baking filled the room. When Ward’s eyes met hers, a tingle sparkled in her throat.

What was she doing? She looked down. She couldn’t allow her heart to rule her head again.

Mama brought a plate from the counter and placed it in the center of the worktable. “There’s time before supper to sample the shortbread. Luellen baked it,” she said to Ward.

Luellen cleared her throat. “Mama.”

Eyes wide with innocence, her mother looked at her. “What?”

David reached for the treats, and Mama moved his chubby hand away from the platter. “Not yet, young man. You need more teeth first.”

Ward helped himself to a piece of shortbread, tipping his head away from David so he could take a bite. “Delicious. I’ll try to leave some for Franklin and Dr. Spengler.”

Pleased in spite of herself, Luellen said, “There’s plenty more. We’ve been baking for the Christmas party at Bryant House tomorrow night. Franklin’s going to deliver our efforts in the morning.”

Mama gestured toward the pantry. “Luellen made some mincemeat pies. We remembered you favor those.”

“How thoughtful.” His eyes rested on Luellen.

“It was Mama’s idea.” Luellen wished she could kick her mother under the table.

“I hope you planned on attending our local celebration. I know you young people had an enjoyable time last year.” Mama smiled at Ward. “Perhaps you can convince Luellen to attend. She’s been living like a hermit ever since she came home from Allenwood.”

“I don’t fit in anywhere in Beldon Grove. Why should I go?” Luellen stood and leveled a meaningful stare in her mother’s direction. “Perhaps Ward is tired from the journey. We don’t want him to feel obligated.”

Ward cleared his throat. “I’m not tired at all. In fact, I’d hoped you would consider allowing me to escort you—if it’s not presumptuous of me to ask so close to the event.”

She thought of the town gossips. How they’d cackle at the sight of a divorced woman carrying on at a public function. Well, let them. In May she’d graduate and find someplace to live far from Beldon Grove. She lifted her chin. “I’ll be pleased to have you as my escort. Thank you.”

The next evening, Luellen stood in front of the mirror in her parents’ room while her mother adjusted her gray silk cape over Luellen’s rose taffeta dress. Layers of petticoats extended the skirt in a fashionable bell shape. “You look lovely.” Mama pulled tendrils of hair loose around Luellen’s temples. “I know you’ll have a pleasant evening. Don’t worry about David. Papa and I will take good care of him.”

“I’m not worried about David.” She looked at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. “It’s just hard to face everyone, knowing what they think of me.”

“After the first few moments, no one will be thinking about you at all. Most of those girls will be all atwitter at the sight of Ward in his uniform.”

A surge of possessiveness seized Luellen. Why should she care if other girls fluttered around Ward? She had no claim on him.

He stood at the foot of the stairs when she descended. No doubt about it—the girls would flock around him. Gilt buttons on his frock coat shone in the light from the overhead lamp. His high black boots were polished until they glittered. He bowed theatrically, one hand over his heart. “Miss McGarvie.”

Luellen tucked her glasses into her reticule. She didn’t want to spoil her mother’s efforts. Ward stepped through the blur in front of her and placed a hand on her arm. “Glasses are part of your charm. Please put them back on.”

Franklin joined them from the sitting room, wearing loose wool trousers and a brown flannel shirt. He carried a folded newspaper under one arm. “Ward’s right, Lulie. You look downright pretty.”

“That’s a compliment, coming from you.” She smiled at him. “I wish you’d change your mind and join us.”

“I’m promised to Belle. Wouldn’t be fair to our understanding for me to go out dancing while she misses the holiday frolics in Springfield. I’ll be there in time for the New Year’s celebration. We can dance together then.”

Luellen’s taffeta dress rustled when she moved to her brother and slid an arm around his waist. She glanced at his feet, clad in boots rather than moccasins, and wondered how well he’d fare in Springfield. Pushing her misgivings aside, she said, “Belle is fortunate to have you. I’m proud you’re my brother.” She kissed his cheek, the end of his wide moustache tickling her nose. She shook her finger at him. “Just remember, she needs to finish at Allenwood first.”

He nodded, impatient. “I heard you before.” Franklin turned to Ward. “Quick. Take her to Bryant House before she gives me any more orders.” He swatted Luellen’s backside with the newspaper. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll be fine right here.”