by Vivi Holt
Eve’s face brightened. “Yes, that’s true.”
Holly stopped and turned to face her sister, her heart full of fear. “Oh Eve, my dear, what do you truly think? Should I travel all the way to Wichita to marry this man I’ve never met?”
Eve’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “I can’t tell you what you should do, other than trust in God. What else is there?”
The buggy headed down the busy street, stopping outside a tall Federalist-style house with a high wrought-iron fence. Rain pummeled the roof of the buggy, and Holly and Eve pressed back against their seats to avoid the drops. “Fred, will you go and knock on the door, please?” asked Eve, rapping her walking cane on the wall of the buggy.
The driver grumbled and hurried through the gate and up the wide stairs to the front door. He tugged his collar up higher around his neck and knocked on the door. When it opened, he exchanged words with someone inside, then ran back to the buggy and poked his head in, rain dripping from his hat. “Miss Eve, the maid says they ain’t home and won’t be for some months. They’re travelin’.”
“Thank you, Fred. Let’s head home.”
Holly’s stomach clenched. She’d dreaded meeting Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer. How could she possibly explain to them that she was considering taking her children to Kansas to marry their son, whom she’d never met? And now she couldn’t even do that. Could she marry their son? She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back on the seat as the buggy lurched down the drenched street toward home.
How she longed to go back in time, back to when Charles was alive and they had a home of their own and everything was wonderful. But it was no use wishing – everything had changed. It would never be the same again.
Holly laid the last of her gowns in the trunk, pushed the lid closed and leaned on it, pressing it down as tightly as she could before she snapped the lock shut. “One never realizes just how many things one owns until one has to pack them all into trunks,” she mused to herself.
“Excuse me?” asked Eve, peering through the bedroom door.
“Nothing, just talking to myself.” Holly laughed and sat down on the trunk with a sigh.
“That’s the last of it?”
“Yes, that’s everything. I left a few things in the children’s room for you to donate to the needy, since we couldn’t carry it all.”
Eve nodded. Her face was grim, her eyes rimmed with red.
Holly felt a pang in her chest. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll be fine, Eve dear. Don’t fret so much about us. It’s an adventure. ‘Life is full of adventures’ – don’t you remember that’s what Pa used to say? He never said much of worth, but that stuck in my head.”
Eve nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I remember. It’s just that … all my life, you’ve been all I had. You raised me when Ma and Pa couldn’t or wouldn’t. You introduced me to Rodney and taught me how to behave in society. You stood up for me when anyone criticized or looked down on me. And when James was born, you helped me cope with … well, everything. I wanted to be there for you when you needed it …”
Holly rushed to her sister’s side and threw her arms around Eve’s thin shoulders. “And you were. When Charles died, I didn’t think I’d make it through, but you helped me, gave me and my children a place to live. I’ll be forever grateful.”
Eve wiped the tears from her eyes, then stamped her foot on the hardwood floor. “I’m so mad at Rodney – I can’t believe he’d throw you out this way! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”
Holly shook her head, tucked a strand of Eve’s dark hair behind her ear and met her gaze. “Please don’t be angry with him. He was kind to take us in, but it isn’t fair to him or any of you for us to stay here indefinitely. There are six of us, and we’re noisy and passionate and difficult at times – he held up under it as long as he could, but he needs his peace and quiet, you know that. It’s only right that you focus on your family. I don’t hold it against him – I just want you all to be happy.” She stroked Eve’s cheek, wiping her tears away.
“And I want you to be happy, my dear big sister. Who knows, perhaps you’ll even find love.”
Holly laughed. “Love? I don’t imagine I will, but I can still do what’s best for the children. If marrying Kurt Sawyer puts a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, I’ll do it and gladly.”
Eve sighed and her brow furrowed. “But what about you? What about your heart? If you close yourself off that way, you’ll never find happiness.”
“I’ve stopped concerning myself with happiness, dear sister. I had it once and that’s enough. Now come, let’s find the children. I heard the cab pull up outside and the train is due shortly. It’s time we were on our way.”
Eve burst into fresh tears. “But we haven’t had enough time to say goodbye.”
Holly chuckled. “There never is enough time. And anyway, I hate long goodbyes –”
A rap at the door startled them. Cecelia poked her head in. “Is yer trunk ready, Mrs. Bristol?”
“Yes, it’s ready. Thank you, Cecelia.”
Cecelia nodded at someone beyond the doorway and two boys appeared, caps pulled low over their eyes. They tipped them to the ladies, picked up the trunks and carried them out the door and down the stairs.
Holly watched them go. Well, that was that. It was time to say goodbye to New York, this house and Eve, perhaps forever. She took a long slow breath, grinned gamely at her sister and headed downstairs.
She called the children, expecting to hear the thunder of boots on the ceiling. Instead, she found them all standing in a circle in the entry, the boys with hats in hand, the girls with their bonnets hanging on strings down their backs, all with long faces. “Come now, children – it’s time to say goodbye.” She tried to sound cheerful and lively, but it came out strangled.
One by one, the children embraced Eve and James and told them goodbye. Even Cecelia was crying when it came her turn. Rodney had given her a nervous farewell before he left for work that morning, which Holly had appreciated. He wasn’t a bad man, just not a man who could deal with noise or disorder. Thinking about it, she held back tears.
By the time they were all packed into the cab like beans in a can, her eyes were swollen and her chest ached from suppressed sobs. She blew her nose, then leaned out the window to wave goodbye as the cab pulled away from the curb in a flurry of hooves, flicking mud and cracking whips. Eve and James looked so small standing in front of the gate. James’ arm was threaded through his mother’s and both had faces as pale as milk. They waved goodbye and Eve hid her mouth with her hand.
Holly’s stomach turned, the bitter taste of bile in her mouth. Beside her, Sarah squeezed her hand, her eyes watching her mother closely. “It’s going to be fine, Ma,” she whispered, her large brown eyes wide. “Please don’t be sad. We’ll see Aunt Eve and James again.”
Holly forced a smile but couldn’t answer. She kissed Sarah’s forehead, then held her close as the cab bumped and weaved through the streets of New York, headed for the train station. The other children drew close too, faces drawn, as they sat in silence.
4
Kurt Sawyer held the letter from Holly, re-reading the words as he broke into a cold sweat. She had children. Five children.
She wrote it so casually. He hadn’t thought of ‘what if she had children?’ when he’d agreed to let his brother advertise for a bride for him. He was twenty-five and had assumed his bride would be younger, never married – and childless. Why hadn’t he considered the possibility she might be none of those?
He rubbed his mouth and frowned. There was nothing to be done about it – she was not only on her way, but due to arrive in Wichita within the next hour. He was at the saloon across the street, waiting for the train to pull in. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he reckoned this particular situation called for it.
Five children. Heaven help him. And why hadn’t he thought to ask her age?
He took a gulp of beer, spil
ling a little down the front of his best black waistcoat. He dabbed at it with one hand, then sighed loudly. Well, there was nothing for it but to marry the woman. She’d come all this way to do just that. He supposed he could send her back if it came down to it, but doubted he could bring himself to. He swallowed another mouthful and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
This was all Angus’s fault – he’d suggested the idea and written the advertisement for the newspaper. Kurt hadn’t even seen it – he’d been too busy planting his crop, with one arm that still pained him. He should’ve included something about existing children. But it was too late now …
The hoot of a whistle in the distance made him choke on the next swallow of beer. A man walking by slapped him hard on the back, and he coughed it up on the bar. “Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head as the scowling bartender took a towel from his shoulder to wipe the bar dry.
He stood and cleared his throat. The tie he’d donned that morning squeezed his neck, and he stuck a finger beneath it and tugged to loosen it – he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He slapped his hat onto his head and strode out the door. It was time to meet the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with. And her five offspring.
Holly stared out the window. The train rushed toward a small, lively town perched in the middle of a great plain on the banks of a wide brown river that crawled downstream carrying riverboats of all shapes and sizes with it.
“Is this where we get off?” asked Edward with wide eyes.
“Yes, my darlings, this is it. Gather your things, please.”
The train slowed, brakes screeching on the steel tracks and whistle sounding. The children all jumped, and Eleanor climbed into Holly’s lap and buried her face in her mother’s bodice. “It’s just a whistle – nothing to be afraid of.” Holly assured her, patting her back before she reached for her own straw hat and reticule.
She pinned her hat in place as the train shuddered and jolted, finally coming to a stop beside a raw timber platform. She stood, being careful to deposit Eleanor on her feet.
“Ma, are we going to get a pony?” asked Heather, her blue eyes wide. At seven, a pony would make everything bearable in her eyes. She fidgeted with her long blonde plait where it hung over her thin shoulder.
“I don’t know, darling. Let’s just wait and see. From what I understand, Mr. Sawyer lives outside of town, but he may not have room for a pony.”
Heather frowned and flung her braid back between her shoulder blades.
“Let’s go.” Holly gently nudged the children toward the train’s open doors.
Outside, she lifted her gloved hand to shield her eyes. The town was dirty and busy and the smell of dust, manure and livestock assailed her nostrils. Large yards holding hundreds of milling cattle lay to the east, and their baying acted as a backdrop to the noise of the train, wagons and pedestrians. She glanced around the station, watching passengers leave the train, locate their luggage and make their way off the platform. How would she recognize Kurt Sawyer? Would he even be here to meet them?
“Ma, what now?”
“I’m hungry!”
“Where are we going?”
“It smells. Are we gonna ride a horse to our new house?”
“Do I get a gun like those men, Ma?” That was Tripp, staring in excitement as he pointed to a pair of cowboys riding by the station, ten-gallon hats pulled low over their eyes and holstered pistols displayed on their hips.
“Heavens, no!” said Holly. “We’ll eat soon – just stay close to me, children.” She hurried them over to where the station master was taking stock of the remaining luggage on the platform.
He pulled his cap from his head to scratch it, mussing his thinning hair. “One of these yours, Ma’am?”
She nodded. “We should have four trunks and a carpetbag. There they are … that one and those over there – those are ours. Thank you.”
The station master pushed and pulled until all their luggage was neatly piled together, then ambled off to speak with a young man. Holly pulled her handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped her damp forehead beneath the straw hat. It was hotter than she’d expected for autumn, and that and her anxiety had left her bathed in sweat. Her heart pounded and her head buzzed with worried thoughts, hopes, plans, fears.
Above it all, the voice of the man speaking to the station master cut through. “… waiting for a woman. She has children with her … her name’s Holly …”
Holly’s heart leaped into her throat. The man looked so young. He wore an all-black suit with a white button-down shirt, and held a black Stetson in one hand. His dark blonde hair was neatly combed to one side, a stray strand falling across his face. He had chiseled cheeks and an earnest look that was immediately endearing.
She took a quick breath. “Stay here, children.” She walked briskly toward him, her face burning. “Mr. Sawyer?” she asked, interrupting his discussion with the station master.
He glanced at her and his blue eyes darkened.
Nothing for it. She lifted her chin. “I’m Holly Bristol. Pleased to meet you.”
Kurt wiped his sleeve across his brow and took a slow breath, but couldn’t get his heart to slow or his mind to work. His thoughts had fled in the face of the beautiful woman on the platform. He should say something, try to set her at ease. She looked calm enough, but she must be feeling anxious given the situation. “Did you have a pleasant journey?” he finally managed?
“Yes, thank you,” she replied. “We’re ready to go if you are, though the children are hungry.”
He looked behind her and spotted the five little ones huddled together by a pile of trunks. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he said, trying to act nonchalant. He walked over, nodded to the children, lifted one of the trunks with a grunt and headed for the wagon. The children followed him, like a string of ducklings.
Sam and Sal waited patiently in front of the wagon, tails swishing and ears flicking back and forth as Kurt caught snippets of conversation between Holly and the children. She was older than he was, but stunning in a way he’d never imagined. With soft curves beneath a well-tailored gown, large blue eyes, silky golden hair and a wide smile, she caught the attention of every man passing by. And he hadn’t been able to catch his breath since he met her.
Still, five children! Five extra mouths to feed! He felt a band tighten around his chest. Well, he’d just have to find a way.
“Where in town is your business?” she asked.
He frowned. What was she referring to? “My … business?”
“Your advertisement said you were a successful landowner. I assumed you had some kind of business.” She watched him carefully, clasping tightly to her carpetbag.
He squinted, his head spinning. He wished, not for the first time, that he’d written that blasted advertisement himself. What had Angus done? “Well, I … actually, I’m a rancher. Or rather, a farmer working to become a rancher. It is a business – I’m in the business of raising horses, a few cattle, some crops. I’ve got a property just a mile outside of town. We’ll head out there today after our, um, wedding.”
Her face fell and she bit her lower lip.
“Does that mean I’ll get a pony?” asked one of the girls.
He would have to make a point of learning their names. “Maybe,” he answered, throwing the carpetbag into the back of the wagon. “Now, everyone in.”
The children all obediently climbed into the wagon bed, and he helped Holly up to the bench seat. The wagon was packed to the brim, and he swallowed hard at the sight. His life was about to change in every possible way, all at once.
Holly sat quietly beside him as he drove the wagon down Lawrence. The church was at Lawrence and First streets, on their way to the ranch. They’d stop in there, get married in front of the preacher and his wife, be on their way and arrive at the ranch in time for evening chores.
Kurt swallowed again. He hoped there were no more surprises.
Holly waited patiently in Rev. Mar
tin’s chambers at First Presbyterian. His wife Agatha stood with her, her hands folded in front of her simple dress, a warm smile on her face. “It’s so nice to meet another woman my age,” she said.
“A pleasure to meet you as well,” Holly said absently. She couldn’t think straight – she was about to pledge herself, her life and children to a man she’d just met. Conversation seemed impossible. She dabbed the sweat from her brow with her sleeve.
“I’m sure you’re gonna love the Sawyer ranch,” Agatha went on. “My husband says it’s as close to Heaven as you can get around here – beautiful pastures, clean water in the creek, shade trees galore. You’re a lucky lady.”
Holly nodded.
Kurt and Rev. Joe Martin opened the door and walked in. Holly’s children were all seated on chairs or the floor against the wall. They whispered and wriggled in place, but were otherwise behaving themselves admirably. She frowned – they must be hungry. She’d have to ask Kurt if they could find something to eat as soon as they were done here.
Her mind returned to her first wedding. It was held at the courthouse in New York. She’d worn a beautiful white gown with a long train. Charles had donned a top hat and a sleek black suit perfectly fitted to his slim form. He looked so dashing, so handsome, and she’d been overcome with the emotion of it all. She’d insisted they dress up, even if they weren’t in a church in front of family and friends. And he’d gone along with her plan, just as he always did. She’d had to discretely dab at her eyes and nose throughout the ceremony to keep from leaking everywhere. It was beautiful. Even the fact that they’d done it alone, couldn’t temper their excitement or their love for one another.
She’d been proud to become Mrs. Charles Bristol, having never thought she’d get the chance to marry a man like him. Never thought she’d become part of society, not after being raised by absent, drunken parents in the Appalachians. But she’d done it – married a Bristol and entered society (much to society’s initial dismay). After years of parties, picnics and events, they’d finally offered her a grudging respect. Children had come, one after the other. And they’d been so in love. So blessed.
