Kaitlin's Silver Lining

by Gold, Ciara

  She unfolded the faded bulletin and scanned the details. Jason had posted the flyer to advertise a new enterprise he’d undertaken. The grand opening had occurred May 5, 1867, three years after leaving her alone in a shack in Birmingham. A brittle grin spread across her face. With any hope, his precious Grander Zandorfenland still existed.

  She stared at the empty streets of a once thriving community, her posture rigid with determination. Tall, longleaf pine and blackjack oak trees stood at attention along the battered roadway like solemn mothers awaiting the return of their sons. The strong stench from the paper mill warred with the fresh scent of pine. She caught a glimpse of something shiny and bent to retrieve an old button from a confederate uniform. If not for the paper production, the town would have withered and died a long time ago as there was no longer a market for the gray attire the depot once shipped to southern soldiers. After finding information on Jason Caine, she was most grateful to the mill for sustaining the commerce.

  She straightened, tucked the souvenir into a pocket, and took a unwavering step toward the depot where she planned to catch the one o’clock train to Citronelle.

  “Ma’am? Miss!”

  She turned on her heel. The shop owner stood framed within the doorway, waving another yellowed paper at her. “I seriously think you’ll want this one as well.”

  “Why?” she asked as she approached the mercantile again.

  He smiled, revealing a chipped tooth and brown gums. “Feller on the front looks just like the one on your handbill.”

  “Indeed.” She took the fore-mentioned page and cautiously glanced at the drawing. The name wasn’t Jason Caine, but the face bore more than a striking resemblance. While she hunted her husband for information regarding their son, Thad, the law hunted him for something far more serious.

  Wanted for theft. Joshua Walker of Mobile County Alabama. $500 Reward offered.

  One

  Indianola, Texas August 5, 1875

  “Hold up,” Aubrey Caine yelled to no avail. Hiking her skirts, she made a mad dash after the moving wagon. “Stop!”

  The rickety buckboard carrying her few prized possessions careened down the wooden wharf, leaving her far behind. Not only had the delivery boy taken off without her, but he’d failed to properly secure the large shipping crate full of household items. The box bounced like an inexperienced rider on the back of a feisty bronc. She’d think the scene comical if it wasn’t her belongings flying about on the rattling box on wheels.

  She picked up the pace and made a valiant dash after the wagon then skidded to a halt when the wheel caught the last board before hitting land and the crate flew off the back. The impending crash happened a split second later, spilling her precious contents onto the sandy surface. Before the vehicle came to a stop, her second trunk sailed off the end and landed with a hard thud. The top popped open as it bounced on its side. A startled gasp followed by an unladylike stream of epitaphs punctuated her ire.

  “Damn, damn, damn.” How could the driver be so careless?

  A round face peered over his shoulder before wrestling the team to a halt, his expression one of shocked bewilderment. The abrupt action caused her valise to follow the same path as her other items. Upon impact, the bag popped open, exposing a host of personal items for the gawking crowd.

  She trudged forward, prepared to give the careless help a piece of her temper. Bits of shell and sand crunched beneath her sturdy shoes, and the warm sun heated her skin.

  The young man turned the wagon around and brought it alongside one of the broken crates. “Miss, I’m so sorry. ‘Spect I was wool gathering and not paying too much attention.”

  “Well, I hope you gathered enough to make a blanket. I’d like to see something productive come out of this mess.”

  The boy couldn’t be more than twelve and wore a shade of red that rivaled the silk rose on her new hat. Her initial anger died in the face of such youthful chagrin. Not much to do except gather the strewn pieces.

  He set the brake. “I meant no harm.”

  The luggage manager should have contracted a more experienced delivery man. At least he’d lost the load on dry land otherwise she might be retrieving her precious items from the bay. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  “No one told me you’d be riding along. The man organizing the packages just told me to load stuff. You’d already given me the address on Pecan Street. After I put the crates in the wagon, I looked around and you were gone. I just figured you found other transportation and would meet me at your place.”

  His long winded explanation didn’t relieve her anger much. “And why the hurry? You drove like a swarm of bees were nipping at your tail.”

  One corner of his lip lifted in a wry smile. “Was hopin’ to meet a friend down by the fishing hole. I truly am sorry, ma’am.”

  “What’s done is done.” Utensils haphazardly decorated the sandy beach, not to mention a few unmentionables. “We’re creating a spectacle in the middle of the path.”

  The boy jumped down and surveyed the damage. “I’ll pick it all up for you, ma’am.”

  “You gather all the forks, knives, and spoons you can find. I’ll hunt for the – other stuff.”

  He followed her line of sight and blushed. “I ‘spect that’d be best.”

  She swiped up the valise and stuffed the partially exposed pink camisole into its depths before locating other unmentionables. After placing the repacked bag on the wagon bed, she helped the boy gather the household items. Luckily the wooden box hadn’t completely disintegrated. Though the seams had loosened and a board had come free from one side, it was intact enough to encase the things they gathered. She picked up her coffee grinder and frowned. Repairs were needed for it to work right again.

  The boy shot her a disgruntled frown. “Galin won’t be too happy with me, but he’ll fix anything that’s broke. He’s a blacksmith.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, setting the ruined grinder in the crate and thinking if the blacksmith were as careless as his boy, she’d find another to do the fixing.

  “Hey pretty lady, you need more help?”

  She turned toward the voice, ready to accept the offer. The heavy set man held her best apron to his chest as if it were a nightdress made for a barmaid. She snatched the article from his chubby fingers and grimaced at his loud guffaw. “I believe I have all the assistance I need at present.”

  A couple of the ape’s friends added their raucous laughs to his chorus. She ignored their crude behavior and hurried her pace in gathering her belongings.

  A shadow fell across a silver fork and she straightened. “Truly, I …”

  “I thought to lend honest assistance,” a well-groomed gentleman offered.

  She smiled. “Why yes, I’d love a bit of help, though I think the boy and I just about have it all gathered.”

  “I apologize for not coming to your aid sooner. Name’s Clyde Mercer. I just arrived. I’m a lawyer so if you ever need legal counsel, ask around. I’ll be setting up my business soon. Looks like you’re a new resident as well.”

  A lawyer? Three years after Jason abandoned her, she’d inquired about a divorce but was told she’d have to locate her husband first as the document would require his signature. After seeing those posters, a more pressing question plagued her. Was she even Jason’s wife or had he married her under false pretenses? Was the man she called husband Jason Caine or Joshua Walker? While the question caused worry, the possible answer along with the relentless heat gave her a pounding headache.

  She extended a gloved hand, thinking she might indeed need his legal advice soon. “Aubrey Caine. I just arrived on the steamship, Anna Marie.”

  Her driver struggled to pick up the crate several feet from the wagon.

  “Oh my.” A weary hand shielded her gaze from the sun as she witnessed the boy’s efforts.

  Clyde chuckled. “I’ll rescue him.” He loped toward the gangly teen and grabbed one end of the wooden box. Together man and
boy carried the heavy cargo to the buckboard.

  When done, she thanked them both. “My heroes. Thank you again for your assistance.”

  Clyde tipped his hat. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

  Her gaze followed his progress down the street until he disappeared around a corner. Perhaps moving to Indianola would prove more beneficial than she’d hoped. A gentle smile tugged at her lips. Her harried introduction to the town hadn’t given her a chance to enjoy the perfect fall day and the beachside scenery offered in crisp blues and peaches. She cast an eye toward the shore and grinned. The rolling crash of waves along the beach provided a soothing sound that welcomed her to Indianola in a way nothing else could. Later, after she unpacked, she’d indulge in a stroll and toss breadcrumbs for the gulls. She cast another appreciative gaze toward the bay before hailing the boy to her side.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Teebon.”

  “Think you can move this buckboard along at a pace guaranteed to ensure safe delivery?” she asked.

  Teebon nodded, and the cowlick on top of his head wobbled. “I’ll treat you like you was a carton of eggs.”

  As long as you’re not thinking scrambled. “Great. Only this time, wait until I take a seat. I have an aversion to hanging onto the side of a moving vehicle while my skirts billow in the wind and my feet flutter like wings.”

  His cheeks blossomed red again, and he ducked his head. “Yes’m.”

  “Very well then.” She settled onto the bench next to the awkward youth and nodded a greeting to some of the gawkers gathered to witness their small calamity. To his credit, Teebon proved a competent driver and delivered cargo and passenger without further mishap.

  She stared at the youth’s profile. “How old are you?”

  “Twelve, but they all say I’m big for my age.” He grinned. “I’m told I got my Pa’s reed thin legs and my Ma’s reckless desire for adventure.”

  He reined in the horse beside a two-story, small home nestled between two other houses of similar construction. Teebon pointed and set the brake. “That your place?”

  “According to the instructions, yes.” Excitement bubbled in her chest, and she clamored down from the seat without Teebon’s assistance.

  The yellow house trimmed in white was perfect. Small but efficient. Lacey gingerbread scrolls bordered the pillars holding the porch roof. Someone had left a rocking chair on the tiny terrace, and Aubrey smiled. The weathered front door screeched opened. An opening from the kitchen led to a set of stairs. The second story bedroom boasted a large window overlooking the street. Each room held a minimum of furniture, but the few items there meant not having to shop anytime soon. She pushed aside Chantilly curtains to enjoy the view, more relaxed after realizing her employer provided a furnished home.

  With her help, Teebon wrestled the crate from the back without dropping one single item and placed it in the front sitting room. By himself, he set her trunk and valise right next to the wooden container. She thanked him profusely and sent him on his way. After unpacking her few belongings, she checked the time. The ornate mantle clock indicated five past eleven. Her duties with the Gulf, Western Texas and Pacific Railway Company would begin tomorrow when she had her first meeting with her new boss, Harold P. Rhodes.

  As tired as she was from traveling, unpacking became her top priority. Both trunks took up the majority of floor space in the tiny room. Why hadn’t she thought to ask Teebon with help dragging the trunk of clothes upstairs? A heavy sigh left her lips at the thought. She’d just open it and drag each item separately to her room to place in the armoire. The crate held kitchen items and would be easier to disperse or so she hoped. The valise contained her most prized possessions.

  Feeling a need to procrastinate and hoping to start her search for Jason sometime tomorrow, she opened the tapestry bag and peered inside.

  A frown gathered at her brow.

  The advertisement and wanted poster weren’t on top where she’d put them. She rifled through the contents, her anxiety mounting. With a surge of desperation, she emptied the luggage onto the hardwood floor.

  Gone. Carried away by the wind when her baggage had broken open. Frustrations. Her clues for finding Jason had vanished.