Brokken Promises

by Abagail Eldan

  The woman across the aisle heard and leaned forward with eyes filled with curiosity and compassion. “I have a lap quilt if you’d like to borrow it.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she pulled the quilt off her sleeping husband. Fritz took it and thanked the woman kindly but did not speak further, whether because of his chattering teeth or because he was gathering his thoughts, Camellia didn’t know. She was glad for most of the passengers still watched them.

  She turned to look out the window and bit her lip. Why had he done this? Was he going to ask her to return to Brokken because they still wanted her to sign the adoption papers?

  She cast him a sideways glance and saw he watched her. Only one or two people were still turned in their direction.

  “Warming up?” she whispered.

  “A little.” He cleared his throat. “Why did you leave?”

  A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed before she spoke. “You read the letter. You know what I am.”

  “I knew what, and more importantly, who you were before I read the letter.” His eyes were tender, and she searched them, trying to fathom his thoughts.

  She pulled her gaze away. “Surely, this has changed your perception of me?”

  He was silent so long, that an icy hand of fear closed over her heart. Surely, he was here for some reason, and she chanced a glance at his profile.

  He still watched her and shook his head. “‘Love which changes when it meets change is not love.’”

  She laughed softly, trying not to sob. “You are a student of Shakespeare?”

  “I am. How is it...” His whispered voice became softer. “How is it you are so well versed?”

  “My sister, Sally Jane’s mother, shared her lessons with me.”

  “I am confused about the relationship.”

  “I will tell you all in time. I must ask you a question first.”

  He inclined his head. “Certainly.”

  “What are you doing here, Fritz?” Despite her best efforts, a tear rolled down her cheek.

  He untangled his hand from the quilt to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. “I love you and wish for us to marry as soon as possible.”

  “But what of Mrs. Howe? She will hurt you, possibly your family, and Sally Jane.”

  “The Brokkens are strong enough to endure any pain she cares to inflict. And I’m sure Sheriff Vic will be happy to deal with Mrs. Howe.”

  “But...”

  He put a finger to her lips. “No buts. The decision has been made. I have spoken to, well, part of my family, and I’m sure my two brothers will support me also. They tend to like a good fight.” Fritz laughed, and several heads turned in their direction.

  She leaned toward him, heedless of the stares, and her lips brushed his.

  He pulled away, and his eyes mocked her. “Is that the way a decent woman should behave?”

  She giggled. “It is when she is with an indecent man.”

  And she leaned in again for another kiss.

  Chapter Twenty

  Fritz held his wife in his arms, finally fully warm, even though wind whistled around the window in the best hotel room they could afford with Vic’s money, Early morning sunlight filled the room.

  They had departed the train at the very next stop, he’d wired Curt for money but had yet to hear from his brother. That had not stopped him from marrying Cam in only his linen shirt and suspenders. Cam had not seemed to mind.

  He was perfectly content and wished they could stay in each other’s arms forever. She stirred and raised her head to snuggle closer.

  “Are you awake?” he asked.

  She smiled up at him. “I am now.”

  He traced a pattern on her bare arm lying across his chest. “I have a question... only one for now.”

  She sighed softly. “Ask if you must, but only one per day.”

  He caught her hand and kissed it, before he spoke. “Why did you allow me to believe you were Sally Jane’s mother?”

  She struggled to sit and leaned against the headboard. He got up to pour her a glass of water before returning to sit beside her.

  “Thank you,” she said and tilted her head to peer at him through her lashes. “I pretended to be Sally Jane’s mother because I was hedging my bets, so to speak.”

  “What do you mean?” He frowned at her.

  “Pearl and I escaped her father when I pretended to be her maid. It was not much of a pretense, I am afraid, although I am not saying Pearl ever mistreated me. On the contrary, she has always treated me like a sister.”

  She paused and her eyes took on a faraway look.

  “Cam?”

  She stirred and smiled sadly. “It’s hard to believe she is gone. To continue with my story, Pearl beguiled one man and then another to aid in our escape. There are people who remember, who know I was once a slave. If people suspected I was a former slave, as Mrs. Howe had done, or recognized me as one, they would question why I had Sally Jane with me. I thought if I claimed she was my daughter, no one could prove otherwise. Very few knew Pearl had a daughter, and even if they did, they would not know where she had gone to since Pearl and I were the only two who knew where Miss Edna lived. People would have accepted me as Sally Jane’s mother, no matter if they knew or guessed I was a former slave, and no matter how white Sally Jane looked. It’s not unusual for former slaves to have blonde hair or even blue eyes.”

  “Unfortunately, no. Is Judge Morrison still alive?”

  “Yes, as far as I know, although Sally Jane’s father is dead—he was a married man who got Pearl with child and ran away with her. Pearl and I had originally escaped to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, lived there during the War, and he had been one of the returning soldiers. Pearl went with him willingly enough, leaving me behind although she kept in touch by letters. I took in laundry, mending, whatever I could do to keep body and soul together. A couple of years later, the man she’d run off with died. Their neighbor, as I believe I’ve already told you, contacted me when Pearl died of typhoid fever.” She paused and her eyes took on that faraway look again.

  “And you were not able to keep Sally Jane?” It was another question, and maybe a harsh one, but she did not take offense.

  “I figured Miss Edna had been waiting for her daughter to join her all those years. Pearl had never gotten in touch because she held a grudge, and who could blame her, being abandoned by her mother when but a baby? I understood, I think, better than Pearl, and wanted to unite Miss Edna with her granddaughter.”

  “So, you traveled to Brokken but didn’t stay.” He wanted to ask why, but he had already broken her stipulations and had lost count of how many questions he’d asked.

  She licked her lips and took a sip of water before she twisted to fully face him. “I discovered, when traveling to Brokken, that folks thought I was Sally Jane’s mother. I knew I could pass as white. Was that a terrible lie?”

  He shook his head. “No. Why should you have to pretend, anyway? Wasn’t the War about treating all as equal?”

  She bowed her head again. “And yet you fought against that.”

  “No, never that. Not knowingly, at least.” He tilted her chin to search her eyes. “And then Mrs. Howe found out your secret?”

  “Yes, she was always watching me, studying me, and one day caught me unaware and questioned me. I told her the whole story—”

  “Which you have yet to share with me.”

  “I promise I will, soon. Don’t we have something more important to do?”

  He grinned and teased her. “Breakfast?”

  She shook her head and gave him a shy glance. He moved toward her, and she held up a hand to stop him. “Will you promise me something?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you promise to always be a decent man?” Her eyes twinkled.

  He shook his head. Even though she teased, he became serious. “I want to be more than a decent man, more than a respectable man. Broken promises have been left in my wake.”

 
; “And those are in your past, as you have told me. We can only go forward in the ship or ark—whatever we are in—together, making a better wake with no more lies or secrets.”

  “And that is my promise—to tell the truth or at least not to lie.”

  Her eyes rounded, became serious, and she nodded. “And I, too, promise to never lie.”

  She lay back, and he braced on his arms over her. “And I promise you this—I will strive to be a better man, and I think I can be with you by my side.”

  And they sealed their promises with a kiss.

  Epilogue

  Camellia admired her emerald green dress, an early Christmas gift from Fritz. She didn’t tell him it was the first new dress she’d ever owned. Wearing Pearl’s old dresses had been a grand adventure; wearing her own was much better. Her reflection did not fill her with doubt, for once, and a small amount of confidence imbued her.

  Deborah had sent word for them to come to supper at the ranch house where Karl and his new wife were making their home. From what Camellia could gather, Deborah’s parents had lived there although had returned East when Deborah and Chance had married.

  Even though Camellia knew she looked her best, butterflies flitted in her stomach. She and Fritz had only arrived home last night after they had extended what Fritz had laughingly called their honeymoon by two weeks. Despite what Fritz had told her, she was not sure she’d be welcomed into the family with open arms.

  He was watching her now, his lips twitching. “Are you done admiring yourself? It’s time to go.”

  Camellia frowned at him in mock anger. “I was admiring the dress.” She smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle as if to prove it.

  “You outshine your dress, especially with your hair arranged like that.” He came up behind her, put his hands on her waist, and planted a kiss at the nape of her neck.

  His kiss made her shiver, and she moved away. “Thank you. I’m ready when you are.”

  He picked up her new coat lying across the foot of the bed and held it for her to don.

  When doing so, he kissed her neck again, and she gently pushed him away. “Fritz, you said we were going to be late.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help myself,” he said, not looking at all contrite. “Maybe we can leave the party early.”

  She didn’t answer but took the arm he proffered, remembering that first time when she’d done so as they’d walked to the park in San Francisco. This time, she clutched him as if she were drowning, and he was her savior. He patted her hand, and the simple gesture calmed her.

  He had procured the buggy and filled it with presents they’d bought on their way home from their ‘honeymoon.’ After tucking the lap quilt around her, the same lap quilt the woman on the train had given him, insisting they keep it, they set off to the Brokken Arrow ranch.

  When they arrived, the house was completely lit, and he drove right up to the door before he stopped the horse and then helped her out. Two ranch hands, who must have been watching for them, came out, one to unload the presents, and the other to take the buggy to the barn.

  While Fritz spoke to the men, Camellia mounted the steps and waited in the cold. Light and laughter spilled from inside onto the porch. Fritz came to her and looked down at her trembling hands. Whether she trembled from the cold or from fear, she did not know—perhaps some of both.

  His eyes filled with concern. “If this is too much, I’ll go get the buggy, and we can go home.”

  “No, this is your family. I am not going to deny you the pleasure of their company on Christmas Eve.”

  He took her by the shoulders to look her squarely in the face. “They are your family now.”

  “Fritz, I know you hope so, but I understand that they can never fully accept me, especially when...”

  “They fully understand that Mrs. Howe may show up. They understand others in town may reject you. But they will never reject you, I assure you. Give them a chance.”

  She cast her glance down before taking a shuddering breath and gave a simple nod.

  Without knocking, Fritz opened the door, and Deborah and Chance were at once in the foyer to meet them. Camellia barely had a chance to take in the details of her surroundings before Deborah smiled and gave Cam a long hug.

  “You look well,” she said.

  “Welcome to the family!” Chance said, beaming.

  To her surprise, Sally Jane came running to them. “Aunt Cam,” she cried.

  Camellia scooped her up and then Sally Jane held her arms to Fritz.

  Fritz laughed. “She’s certainly come out of her shell.”

  Deborah beamed with pride. “She has! Partly due to Karl and his wife.”

  “What is Karl’s wife like?” Camellia asked quietly while Chance shook Fritz’s hand.

  “Come see,” Deborah said, pulling her forward.

  Chance and Fritz, with Sally Jane in Fritz’s arms, followed. When they entered the living room, its heavy oak pocket doors opened to the dining room to create one large space, the little girl wiggled to get down, and Fritz set her on her feet.

  In the center of the room was Karl’s wife, radiant in satin blue. In a circle around her were the rest of Fritz’s family, along with men whom she assumed were ranch hands, and what appeared to be folks from town.

  Karl came to clasp Fritz on the shoulder. Fritz gave his brother a long hug. “Sorry I failed to congratulate you earlier.”

  While they spoke, Camellia moved toward the wall, not wanting to be the center of attention. Karl looked fit and well and favored Fritz except for his glasses.

  “And congratulations are in order for you, also. I have yet to meet your lovely bride,” he said and glanced around.

  Fritz spotted her and came to take her arm, drawing her forward. “Come meet my brother.”

  Thankfully, no one was looking at her, except for Karl. Folks chattered and laughed, gathered around Karl’s wife who had just, from the looks of it, finished singing. Deborah and Chance had joined them. Karl’s wife was beaming around like the benevolent mistress of the home, a role she had assumed quickly. She held out a hand for Sally Jane who stood in front of her, her eyes shiny.

  Another man came toward them, and Camellia recognized the resemblance to the other Brokkens. This must be Curt. He, too, wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulder, and the three brothers smiled in her direction.

  “Mrs. Brokken,” Fritz said formally, inclining his head, as if she was royalty. “May I introduce my two brothers?”

  Curt stepped forward. “Your brothers now, ma’am.” To her surprise, he took her hand and kissed it.

  Fritz slapped him on the back, laughing. “Find your own wife.”

  “I am trying, dear brother. I am trying,” Curt replied, stepping back.

  Karl simply gave her hand a shake. “Welcome to the family.”

  And then Karl’s beautiful wife, trailed by an admiring group, was beside them and did not wait for an introduction. “I am so happy to meet you, Camellia. I am Opal.” She spoke perfect English with a trace of an accent. She peered at Camellia, as if expecting something.

  Was she supposed to know who she was, from just a first name? Camellia gave a nod, as if she acknowledged whatever it was this woman wished. “My pleasure, I am sure.”

  The woman, who was as tall as Fritz, engulfed her with a hug and said, a bit loudly. “We are sisters.”

  Others gathered around, eager to be introduced to Camellia, following Opal’s lead. Camellia was thankful for the warm welcome but felt overwhelmed.

  As soon as she could, she pulled Fritz toward the dining room, declaring she was famished, although she was not sure she could eat a thing. Their new sister-in-law was back in the center of the room, and the crowd hushed, all eyes upon her.

  She sang Silent Night in German in a perfect alto. When she finished, she motioned Karl to join her.

  “Now, everyone will sing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” she said with authority.

  Karl motioned for his family to
join them. Fritz bent close to Camellia. “Do you want to eat or join our family?”

  Our family. She’d been alone so long that the words made tears stand in her eyes. She moved forward, and Fritz followed. He held her hand, and Deborah took her other hand. Soon, all the family had joined hands and sang together:

  God rest ye merry gentlemen

  Let nothing you dismay

  And in that moment, watching Fritz, his face full of joy, Camellia could not imagine anything would ever dismay her again.

  And her voice rose to join with his to sing Oh tidings of comfort and joy, exactly what her husband had given her.

  And she raised her eyes and squeezed them tight, thanking God for sending her Fritz.

  THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR reading.

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  About the Author, Abagail Eldan

  MY FATHER WAS A CAREER soldier, and I resided in several states as well as overseas. My reading addiction was fed when we moved into an old house in Toul, France. On the floor of the basement stood stack after stack of books. What a treasure trove! With no distractions, I was in hog heaven.

  A long and winding road led me back to the county of my parents' birth. I come from a long line of farmers on both sides.

  After attending a total of six universities and becoming certified in all maths, sciences, and English, I taught at the middle-school level for nineteen years and am semi-retired since I also am...

  a peacemaker, a servant, a defender. A writer.

  Let’s connect at my:

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