by Annie Boone
Becoming a Family
A Cutter’s Creek Story
By Annie Boone
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Copyright 2016, Annie Boone.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, without written approval by the author, except for short excerpts used in a book review.
All characters, places, events, businesses, or references to historical facts are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any references to actual people, places, or events are purely incidental.
Chapter One
Chicago, 1881
Jemma had just arrived home from her last day of school when there was a knock at the front door. Her parents were in the back of the house, so she went to the door.
“Telegraph for Mr. Braithewaite,” the young man said.
Hearing his name, Jemma's father came in the front room with her mother quickly following.
“A telegram! This is very exciting. I wonder who it’s from?” her mother said as she wiped her hands on her apron.
Sam Braithewaite, a serious looking man in his early fifties, grabbed his spectacles from his jacket pocket and slipped them on as he opened the folded paper and began to read aloud.
Lewiston, Idaho
Regret to inform you.
William and Sylvia caught in barn fire.
Perished this morning.
Children grieving.
Come quickly.
Mr. Ulysses Dean
Jemma felt faint. A loud buzzing seemed to surround her and the room swirled. She looked to her father. His face was ashen. Her mother had sunk to the floor in a heap of calico skirts. Her arms stretched forward as if she could pull her oldest and only son from the flames, tears pouring down her face.
“How could this happen, Father? What do you think happened?” Jemma questioned, knowing her father knew nothing more than she did. Time seemed to stop. Her father's words as he read the telegram echoed in the afternoon sunlight that filtered through the front window.
“Perished this morning.”
Her brother and his beautiful wife were gone. Perished. How could this be? They were young. Happy. In love. So very needed and useful in Lewiston. So helpful to the Dean family who owned the huge farm Billy managed for them.
A fire. Another fire! It was the Chicago fire that had destroyed Billy's business and home almost ten years before. He had almost lost his life trying to save what he could from those flames. In the end his new business and home were gone and he had to start over.
The only bright spot on that dark time was Billy meeting Sylvia. It was their new love that made them decide to start in a new place. Sylvia had lost everything, including her parents, in that horrible night of fire and devastation. That’s why he and Sylvia had gone west.
“I knew he should’ve never taken that job in the Idaho Territory,” Evelyn Braithewaite, said to no one in particular. “Oh, why couldn't he have started over here, in Chicago?”
It had been several minutes since they’d gotten the news and it was starting to sink in. The three had gone to the front parlor and tried to pull themselves together.
“Now, Evelyn, wishing he'd made different choices back then isn't going to change what has happened now. We can't fall apart. We have to go fetch those children,” Sam spoke wisely.
“You’re right, Father,” Jemma encouraged. “We have to get to Tim and Delilah as soon as we can. They must be so scared. They’re all alone out there.”
Jemma went to her mother, put her arm around her shoulders and gave her a handkerchief. Evelyn wiped her nose, stiffened her shoulders and set a determined look on her face. But the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Jemma hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, “I know, Mother, I know.”
Sam looked at his wife and daughter hugging in the middle of the front parlor. He felt older than his fifty-five years at that moment. A father should not outlive his son. But he knew what must be done and he knew he couldn’t give in to the grief. Not right now when his wife and daughter needed him to be strong.
“I’ll go into town and send a return telegram. I can also make the train reservations for the two of us to leave day after tomorrow, Evelyn. I think it should only take four days or so to get to Idaho,” Sam explained.
“I hope the children will be all right until we can get to them,” said Evelyn, still crying.
Jemma immediately spoke up, “But I can go too, Father. School is out until the fall. Tim and Delilah need to be surrounded by all their family, now. Please let me go with you.”
“Oh yes, Sam! Jemma must go with us. She is so smart with children. She’ll know how to make them comfortable. The last time we saw Tim he was barely a year old and we've never even met Delilah, poor, dear. Yes, I insist, Jemma must go, too.”
A slight smile touched the edges of Sam's mouth. He knew when his wife was set on a course of action and even in these dire circumstances, he knew better than to try to change her mind.
“Of course. We’ll all go together. As a family.”
Relieved, Jemma hugged her father and guided her mother to her room to begin getting ready to go. Sam left immediately to do what he needed to do in town.
***
That night, as Jemma lay in her narrow bed in the same room she had grown up in, she felt a mixture of emotions. As she often did when she was alone, Jemma spoke aloud to herself, finding that saying the words helped to untangle them. Helped make sense of her thoughts.
“I can't believe Billy and Sylvia are gone. Is there a chance there’s been some mistake?”
She pulled the covers up and turned on her side. She could see out the window and the dark sky beyond. She felt distraught and unsettled.
“What must Tim and Delilah be feeling right now? If I’m this upset, their emotions must be magnified by a million. Losing one parent is horrible enough, but both of them at the same time! It’s unthinkable.”
Unable to get comfortable, she sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest. She knew she’d need to be rested, but she was wide awake. The grief of the loss, uncertainty about the future, and worry about the kids was making her mind rush.
“Oh, and the children. Will they like me? Will they like Chicago? This is going to be such an adjustment for them. All they’ve ever known is Lewiston. Chicago will be so different. I’ll have to do all I can to help. Mother and Father aren’t as young as they once were. Their days of raising children is past. Oh, gosh. Today they both looked older than I'd ever seen. I suppose losing a child will do that.”
Jemma got up and wandered around her small room. She picked up the doll she’d had as a child. Billy had always teased her by hiding it. She smiled at the memory and wiped a lone tear from her cheek.
“It's probably a good thing I never got around to finding my own place to live. I’m going to have to stay here to help with Tim and Delilah. There’s no way Mother and Fathe
r will be able to do that alone. God knew what he was doing when He had people start families when they’re young.”
I’ve got to get to sleep. The next few days are going to be busy, Jemma thought, this time silently. She snuffed the lamp and gave herself over to a fitful night of sleep.
***
Morning sunlight shone through her bedroom window and it was a few seconds before Jemma remembered the tragic news of yesterday. Her heart dropped and she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders again. The grief shrouded her, but she had to move forward. She got up and prepared to start her day.
Jemma remembered her father coming home with the news that he was able to secure a Pullman Salon Car for them on tomorrow's early train. That was good news, though she’d give anything to not have to be making the journey.
They would need to do all of their packing today and head to the station first thing tomorrow morning. Less than twenty-four hours and they would be on their way to take care of a situation they all dreaded.
Jemma quietly made her way into the kitchen and started coffee for her parents. She didn't hear them stirring yet and wondered if she should let them sleep or go and wake them. Just then she heard her mother scream.
“Oh Jemma, come quickly. Your father is hurt!”
Jemma ran to the back door, threw it open and saw her mother standing at the edge of the storage barn in the back of their small yard. Her hands were motioning for Jemma to come quickly. Loud moaning sounded from inside the storage garage. Jemma picked up her skirts and ran toward the building.
“What happened?” Jemma questioned as she entered the garage and let her eyes adjust to the lower light.
“Your father was trying to get the trunks from the loft and fell.” Evelyn was barely able to speak. This on top of the news of Billy and Sylvia’s death was too much.
“Where does it hurt, Father?” she asked as she knelt beside him.
There was a cut on his face, and he was grasping at his lower left leg, which was bent at an awkward angle. A splotch of blood began to show through his trousers.
She was no doctor, but she knew that this didn’t look good at all.
“Mother, I must go get help right now. I think it’s probably a pretty bad break. Stay with him and try to keep him calm. I'll be back as quickly as possible.”
Jemma ran out of the storage barn, down the alley and out onto the street. She began calling to anyone who would listen. “Please help, get the doctor, my father is injured.”
Help arrived quickly. Their neighbors helped keep Sam still until the doctor arrived. Dr. Benson examined Sam’s leg as soon as he arrived with his black bag. He shook his head with a frown as he splinted and bound the leg.
“Sam will need to stay off that leg for a few weeks. I’d like to get him to my office now, Evelyn. I’ll need to set that break, and it will be best to do it in the office. I think we’ll be able to avoid surgery, but I want to make sure.”
Evelyn nodded. She was in shock. Too many bad things had happened to her in less than twenty-four hours.
Jemma felt numb, but knew someone had to take charge. She stepped forward to make sure she understood the doctor’s instructions.
“The break in his lower leg is severe. I’ll fully examine him when he gets to the office. I’ll be able to make sure there’s not more damage. That was quite the nasty fall. I’ll be able to give him some pills for the pain.”
“All right, Dr. Benson. We’ll get him to your office right away.”
The doctor looked up toward the loft. “Looks like Sam fell over ten feet and that ground is packed and hard. Certainly not an easy landing.”
Jemma and Evelyn followed Dr. Benson back to his office with Sam in the back of their wagon. They sat in the waiting room to hear his report. About an hour passed and neither one could think beyond the moment and their collective worry about Sam.
Finally, he came from behind the closed door and explained Sam's condition to them.
“Sam's leg is broken in two places. It’s a bit worse than I thought. I think it would be best if he stayed in the clinic for a few days and then we can move him home. He’ll need constant care for another two weeks as he cannot put any weight on his leg until the wound heals,” Dr. Benson explained.
“But we are leaving to go to Lewiston to pick up my niece and nephew tomorrow morning,” Jemma said in pure shock.
Evelyn began to cry again as she explained their sad circumstances.
“We received notice yesterday afternoon that our son Billy and his wife Sylvia were killed in a fire in the Idaho Territory. We’re going to fetch the children and bring them back to Chicago. That’s why Sam was in the loft. He was trying to get our trunks down so we could pack.”
“My condolences, Mrs. Braithewaite on your loss. But your husband cannot be moved and certainly cannot travel any time soon,” Dr. Benson said gently.
“Oh, Jemma, what are we going to do?” Evelyn had lost all ability to think clearly. Her grief over Billy, her worry over Sam and her concern for her grandchildren was all too much to bear.
Jemma responded bravely, “I’ll go get the children, Mother. I can do it. I know I can.”
In these circumstances, Evelyn could do nothing else but agree.
Once they’d returned home, Jemma sent an urgent message to the ticket agent through their next-door neighbor’s son who was a student in her class.
“Take this note to Mr. Saul Wright. He’s a train agent at the station. Tell him we must change our reservation because Mr. Braithewaite has fallen and cannot travel. Hurry now and don't dawdle. This is very important.”
“Yes ma'am, Miss Braithewaite. I'm your man.”
As Jemma watch the young boy run off toward the station, she said to herself in her unusual manner, “Well it looks like I'm going to Lewiston, alone.”
Chapter Two
Jemma straightened her dark gray skirt and adjusted her modest hat as she stepped out onto Platform Number Two. She glanced at the ticket her mother had given her. It stated the platform and carriage number of the Pullman Car her father had reserved for them and today’s date.
The platform was busy with other passengers. People were scurrying to and fro trying to find their way. There was a long line of passenger cars, followed by dining cars, then the private Pullman Salon Cars.
Because of the long distance from Chicago to Lewiston in the Idaho Territory, she and her parents had planned to travel in a Salon Car. This choice offered privacy in addition to the comfort of sleeping in actual beds. The privacy feature would allow them to sit and dine in the same car, if they chose.
Each private car had a porter who was to serve the occupants during their train journey. Given the grieving nature of their journey, the Pullman Salon Car would also allow them to have some peace and quiet on the journey. Now that Jemma was traveling alone she was sure to welcome the privacy of the Pullman Salon Car. There was no need to draw any unwarranted notice.
The change in reservations she had sent with young Oscar yesterday was only to request the car size be changed since she was now traveling alone. She was grateful she could go to the dining car or into the passenger seating area if she wanted company. But if she wanted to stay and read or think and journal in the privacy of her own carriage she could.
She was a little bit frightened and equally excited about making this journey on her own. She worried for her father and prayed constantly that the Lord would heal him quickly. She prayed for rest and peace for her mother.
She also prayed for perseverance, patience and kindness when she met her niece and nephew. She desperately hoped their return journey would be smooth and effortless. What was she thinking? Smooth and effortless with an almost eight- and four-year-old?
The train’s whistle sounded and Jemma realized she needed to find her carriage quickly. She glanced again at her ticket and it clearly stated that Salon Car Fourteen was her assigned car. But for the life of her she could not find Car Fourteen.
A
little panicked she turned towards one of the railroad personnel standing on the platform.
“Excuse me, sir. Can you help me find Car Fourteen? I have a reservation for that car and I can't seem to find it.
“Let me take a look at that ticket, Miss,” the railroad officer said.
“Car Fourteen you say? Car Fourteen was canceled yesterday. I took the change by note, yesterday afternoon. None, too happy about that change, but there was an accident, I heard.”
“No, sir. No, sir. That must be a mistake!” Jemma said with rising anxiety. “My mother and father's reservation was canceled. But not mine. There was an accident. My father fell and was badly injured. I should still have a reservation for Car Fourteen.”
“No ma'am I was here when the young boy brought the message. He asked for Mr. Saul, but he had already left for the day. I remember the details now. That reservation was fully canceled because a Mr. Braithewaite is it, was injured and cannot travel.”
“That's right. Mr. Braithewaite is my father. He fell yesterday and broke his leg. He is definitely unable to travel. But I am Jemma Braithewaite, his daughter. I’m still traveling to Lewiston in the Idaho Territory. We only meant to change the size of the Salon car since I am traveling alone. Please Sir. You must help me. I must go and fetch my niece and nephew. This just can't be! I must leave today to Lewiston.”
Jemma’ temper was beginning to flare. Her worry for her niece and nephew was rising as well. Her exhaustion from not sleeping soundly the last couple days was weighing heavily on her control.
“Now Miss. Don't overexert yourself. We can work this out. We can just put you in the passenger car,” the man tried to reason.
Jemma reached deep within herself to pull out the strict and unwavering schoolteacher voice. “No sir. I was supposed to have a Pullman car. I need the privacy of the Pullman car. I shall have a Pullman Car.”
At that moment a well-dressed young woman about Jemma’ age approached and asked if she could be of assistance.
