Train Station Bride (2 page)

“You don’t say,” Julia replied.

Jolene’s shoulders dropped, their alabaster skin sinking further into white lace. Turner glanced absently around the room. He had done his duty, Julia supposed. She tried to suppress the embarrassment she felt when Turner was witness to one of these humiliating scenes. Her head snapped up when Alred McClintok belched. He smiled at her and drank the rest of his champagne. Julia’s mouth tightened, and she supposed those up-and-coming souls with Turner and Jolene Crenshaw at their sides had no need of good manners.

“A ‘pardon me’ would do just fine,” Julia said.

Alred McClintok sputtered and hurried away as Turner reached for his wife’s arm. Jolene faced her sister. “Really, Julia. Is it necessary to be rude?”

“Rude?” Julia asked. “He belched in my face without so much as an ‘excuse me’.”

Turner took hold of Jolene’s elbow as if to guide her away. Jolene glared at her husband. “I believe Father needs you, Turner.” Jolene dropped her head for a moment and looked up to present her husband a charming smile. “You do know how he loves to show you off.”

Julia watched Turner clip off a nod to his wife. The two sisters stood in silence. Jolene used the same tactics their mother did. Stony, unrelenting silence until the suspected party blubbered out all of their transgressions.

“Say your peace, Jolene,” Julia finally said when the quiet was eventually overwhelming.

Jolene nodded to a passing guest and turned a cold face her sister’s way. “Is it absolutely necessary for you to chase off every possible suitor? Is it your grand design to be an … .an …”

“An embarrassment? Jolene, I have humiliated this family in more grandiose ways than the simple observance of an appalling lack of manners,” Julia said.

“Have you no pride left, Julia? Do you wish to live in your parents’ home until your doderage? Don’t you want a home of your own? A husband?”

Tears clung stubbornly to Julia’s lashes. She whispered for fear of screaming her reply. “Yes, no and yes. I had dreams too, Jolene. Dreams of a handsome man and a home of my own. My dreams died with one glance at my older, thin, tall, beautiful sister. And because I have pride left, I have no intention of marrying the only man left in Boston who would take to bride a short, fat spinster with well-heeled relatives.”

“You are attractive in your own way, Julia. You are not thin, granted, but certainly not the fat round spinster you make yourself out to be. And the only reason Mother and I keep introducing you to eligible men is because we want you to be happy. Have a home and children of your own.”

“I have a home, Jolene.” The subject of children was more than Julia could possible speak about without tears and hysterias. “I have given up everything for the good of this family. I will not sacrifice my self-respect.”

Jolene’s cheeks tightened. She stretched her arm out to a guest and glided along with a smile to greet them.

* * *

The stars shown brightly as Julia lay in her bed and stared out the window. The last guests had finally left, and Julia could hear tidbits of conversation from the foyer. Jolene, Jennifer and her mother were reviewing the evening. Delicious food. The right people. Jennifer’s way with the bachelors. Turner and Jolene’s invitation to the governor’s mansion. A smashing success. Then a prolonged silence. “Rude to Mr. McClintok?” “Oh dear.” “What’s to be done?” Heavy, thoughtful sighs followed.

As if she was nine-years-old again and spilled a glass of milk on her mother’s Belgian lace tablecloth while the mayor and his wife dined with them. Or when she tore the hem of her Christmas dress just as the family alighted from the carriage in front of the church steps and all of Boston’s good society. Or when at fourteen she slapped the son of her father’s business partner for kissing her. He told everyone she had been trying to kiss him, and the mark on his face was left when he tried to avoid her lips and bumped into the doorjamb. The shattering of a priceless vase had been her fault as well.

Julia pulled the coverlet over herself and rolled onto her side. Soon the plague of the Crawford family would be one thousand miles away. And maybe, just maybe, Julia thought, she would find a peaceful, useful existence away from censure and judgment, without constant reminders of her failures. South Dakota could not have seemed more like the promised land to Julia than heaven itself.

South Dakota 1887

Jake Shelling stood in the doorway of his home and breathed a sigh of relief and happiness as his youngest sister rolled away in the wagon. Gloria was twenty, married a year and expecting her first child in the fall. Her happiness had been the last remaining item on his mental list, finally clearing a path for his own plans since his sisters’ upbringing had fallen to him when their parents had both died of influenza. Jake could still picture himself at the ripe old age of sixteen holding his sisters’ hands as men lowered their mother and father’s caskets into the bleak South Dakota prairie.

Flossie was nine the day they had died and Gloria a mere three-years-old. The first five years from that day had been the hardest he would have sworn at the time. A barely cleared farm, a half-built house and no relatives nearby to help. Years later he would have said the worst time was when Flossie went to her first dance and Gloria’s husband Will had begun hanging around.

Jake had made it through his sister’s suitors, blizzards and a rocky start to where he found himself now. Thirty-three years old and just beginning to think about what he wanted to do for himself. The land had fulfilled a dream just as his father had promised and had provided money in the bank, as well as dowries for his sisters.

Jake turned down the hallway of his two-story farmhouse and headed for the kitchen. No rug padded his feet, and no pictures or heirlooms hung on the walls. The sitting room he passed held two horsehair chairs in front of an unlit fireplace. Doo-dads weren’t necessary; he told Flossie when she scolded him about the state of their parent’s home. His sister was always trying to brighten things up with curtains and pictures, but Jake wanted none of it. His now deadly quiet house was where he slept and ate. He didn’t need throw pillows to accomplish that.

But he had decided what it did need. A woman. He supposed he would let her fuss a bit if she had to, buying fabric and gewgaws. But they weren’t going to get in the way of his plan. A woman to cook and mend and a son to pass his years of sacrifice and work on to. His sisters’ husbands had farms of their own, and when Jake let himself wallow, he imagined his own burial with his nieces and nephews standing at the graveside wondering what to do with the barren house and farm of their uncle’s other than to sell it to a stranger.

Jake Shelling had no intention of letting his parent’s graves and legacy fall into the hands of a buyer that was not of his parent’s stock. He would have a son, regular meals, sex without buying it and someone to work the farm towards a common goal. Yep, marriage was going to suit him just fine, Jake thought as he poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee. This time.

Shortly after Gloria’s wedding last spring he had arranged to marry a woman, a cousin of his closest neighbor. Valerie Morton had been reported to be an attractive, hard-working woman ready to tie the knot. He had let himself hope to find some of the happiness his sisters had with their husbands. Not love necessarily but comfort and companionship. It was not meant to be. Valerie Morton had married the owner of the Brass Jug Saloon on her trip to be Jake’s bride.

So much for the exchanged letters and promises. He’d been embarrassed to realize he’d never given a thought to the possibility that his intended would not hold true to her word. The day he received her letter saying she would marry him, he’d considered her part of his family. Valerie Morton didn’t honor commitments the same way he and his sisters always had. He had misplaced his trust and been sorely disappointed.

But this time, he had planned better. Jake ordered a bride from Sweden of all places he thought to himself and chuckled. A young widow with no children, wanting to make America her home. He supposed he could live with not being able to understand what his wife was saying as long as she was as strong and reliable as the agency in New York reported. So he had sent three hundred dollars four months ago and his bride, all six foot of her, was to arrive tomorrow. A tall woman wouldn’t bother him, he imagined. She wouldn’t be taller than him after all.

Flossie and Gloria had scolded him something awful, and his brothers-in-law, Will and Harry, had laughed till they cried when Jake told them of his plans. He told Pastor Phillips to meet him at the station at three o’clock on Friday. He was going to marry Inga Crawper at the railway platform before the B & O chugged away. And he was hoping and praying Miss Crawper’s eight brothers were proof of a good chance of having sons. He didn’t want daughters, that he knew for certain. Jake didn’t think he would live through someone courting his child. It had been hard enough with Gloria and Flossie. Yep, things were going to work out just fine.

Chapter Two

“There is no need for you to come to the train station, Mother,” Julia said.

Her last few days in her parents’ home had crept by. Finally it was time to begin the plan Julia had put into motion so many months ago. But now, her palms were sweating and her heart racing, and it wasn’t entirely due to riding a train for three days and marrying a man she had never met. Jane Crawford had announced she would ride to the station with Julia and have Tom, their stable man, take her to town for some shopping on the same trip. Eustace stood in the doorway of the morning room. If Jane Crawford went to the train station, she would know Julia’s ticket was for South Dakota, not Delaware bound for Aunt Mildred’s.

“Mrs. Crawford. I … I’ve lost the menus we went over yesterday. I’m sorry but Cook needs to order for the weekend, and I can’t remember everything you told me about the dinner party on Monday,” Eustace said.

“Really, Eustace. How clumsy of you. Where did you put the list?” Jane Crawford asked.

“I’ve looked everywhere for it, Ma’am. I just can’t find it,” Eustace replied.

Jane Crawford’s face was pinched and sour, as it always was when any detail of living like an unintentionally misplaced list interfered with her plans. Especially when it involved a servant. Julia knew her mother would make Eustace’s life miserable in small ways, and she appreciated the sacrifice. Most likely Jane Crawford would find an excuse to need Eustace on Sunday and keep the woman from visiting her sickly mother.

“I’m sure Eustace didn’t lose the list on purpose. Accidents do happen, Mother. Stay here and help her rewrite it, and I’ll send Tom back from the station as quickly as I can. You’ll be able to shop all afternoon. Maybe Jolene will be done with her committee meeting and go with you,” Julia said.

Jane Crawford blew a breath through her tiny nose. “Jolene does need to order new outfits for William. I suppose I can wait. But I do hate for you to stand unattended at the train depot, Julia.”

“No one will carry me away at nine o’clock in the morning, Mother,” Julia said as she pulled on her lace gloves.

Jane arched her brows but relented. “I suppose not. Although it is unseemly.” She straightened her skirts and looked at Julia. “You are packed?”

“Tom has everything in the carriage already. I said goodbye to Jennifer and to …” Julia took a deep breath and continued, “and to Jillian. I kissed Father goodbye last night and sent a note off to Jolene.” Julia stood and swallowed a lump of fear in her throat. “I’m ready to go.”

“Well, fine then, dear,” Jane said and tilted her cheek up for a kiss. “Tell your Aunt Mildred we said hello.”

Julia walked to her mother slowly, smelling the scent of roses wafting to her as she approached. She knew there were tears in her eyes but could do nothing but keep walking. Julia bent, put her mouth near her mother’s ear. “Goodbye, Mother. Take care of … of everyone.”

Jane Crawford tilted her head and eyed Julia suspiciously. “You’re only going for a week, Julia. No need to get emotional. I’ll have Tom at the station next Friday.”

Julia smiled and nodded. “Of course, Mother. I’ll see you very soon then.”

Julia walked from the sitting room and hugged Eustace tightly where the woman stood waiting anxiously in the hallway. She could smell the starch in Eustace’s black uniform.

“Thank you, Eustace, for everything,” she whispered.

Eustace choked back a sob. “Everything’s going to work out for you, girl. You just wait and see.”

“I love you,” Julia said. Eustace nodded, and Julia pulled away without looking at the face she had come to treasure. Julia hurried down the hallway and didn’t stop till old Tom had her safely seated in the carriage. The last thing she heard as she exited her home of twenty-seven years was Eustace’s compliance to Jane Crawford’s insistence that all of the silver in the household would need polished Sunday afternoon. The last thing she saw from the carriage window was Jillian’s face pressed tightly to the glass of the second story bedroom window as the child waved goodbye.

* * *

Friday arrived clear and warm, and Jake went to the bunkhouse to tell Slim he was leaving for the day. They reviewed what was to be done while one of the hands hitched the wagon. Just as Jake thought he’d made a clear get away, he saw Flossie riding into the yard. Jake stood beside the wagon till she rode up close. She slapped her hat on her leg, releasing a cloud of dust and slid down the side of her horse in one smooth motion.

“You’re going through with this crazy plan of yours, aren’t you?” Flossie said.

“Where’s the kids?” Jake replied.

“Don’t you go changing the subject on me, Jake Shelling. You can’t fool me. Never could.”

Jake tilted his hat back and sat his hands on his hips. He looked out on the horizon. “What do you want me to do, Floss? I’m not getting any younger.”

“I’ve tried to introduce you to some nice women, Jake. You never even call on them,” she replied.

“I don’t have time to go wandering all over the countryside, carrying flowers and picking up hankies. I need a wife and a son. And a decent cook if I’m lucky. I don’t need a love match like Gloria and Will.”