Romancing Adrienne

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Romancing Adrienne

  Ruth Ann Nordin

  Ruth Ann Nordin’s Books

  Springfield, Nebraska

  Romancing Adrienne - Smashwords Edition

  Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2010 by Ruth Ann Nordin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Photo Copyright JupiterImages Corporation. All rights reserved – used with permission.

  For Janet Syas Nitsick, author of Seasons of the Soul. You have been a wonderful source of inspiration to me, and I’m glad to have a friend like you.

  Ruth Ann Nordin’s Other Books

  An Unlikely Place for Love (nominated for the 15th Annual EVVY Award)

  The Cold Wife

  An Inconvenient Marriage

  With This Ring, I Thee Dread

  For more information on Ruth Ann Nordin’s books and upcoming books, please go to http://www.ruthannnordin.com.

  This story begins in April 1902.

  Chapter One

  “I can’t let you marry him, Adrienne,” Mrs. Dayton whispered as she threw some clothes into her daughter’s suitcase. “It’s wrong and your father won’t listen to reason. A young girl shouldn’t be used to give a man children. I know your father is doing what he thinks is best for you, but he doesn’t know a woman’s heart.”

  Adrienne bolted out of her bed, excited and grateful her mother was saving her from a horrible fate. She quickly got dressed in a yellow dress while her mother continued to pack.

  “You know Mrs. Crane,” her mother continued in her quiet voice. “She married a man who has money but he just wanted someone to show off at his dinner parties. She’s nothing more than a trophy wife. She spends all her time going to beauty parlors and shopping for the latest fashion so she can look beautiful to impress his friends, but she confided to me last night that she is lonely. Her husband doesn’t pay any attention to her when they are alone. To the world, he is a devoted and loving husband but when people aren’t looking, it’s a different story. He would rather spend time with his hobbies than with her. He only spent enough time with her to have children. She didn’t enjoy those experiences and was relieved when he said that three children were enough.”

  Adrienne shivered in disgust. Did men enjoy using women to fulfill their selfish pleasures? Mr. Parker wanted children and Mr. Crane wanted a trophy wife. Her father wanted her to marry a rich man. She brushed her long wavy brown hair.

  “Braid your hair, sweetheart,” her mother instructed. “You will be taking a train all the way to New York and it’s going to take you several days to get there. My sister knows a young mother who needs a nanny to care for her baby. She has made arrangements for you to get the job. I won’t speak a word of this to your father. He will have to think you ran away to some unknown place.”

  She braided her hair while her mother gave her the details of her plan. She nodded while her mother spoke. Her heart raced with relief and expectation. She hoped that no one would find them and prevent her from leaving California.

  Her mother threw her jewelry into a small handbag and gave it to her. “These jewels are worth a good amount of money. If you take them to a jewelry store, you should be able to sell them and get money for anything you need. I cannot go with you to the train station but I did buy your ticket.” She placed the ticket for New York in her daughter’s hand.

  Adrienne suddenly realized that she wouldn’t be seeing her mother for a long time. “Father will be upset.”

  “It’s better for him to be upset than for you to be miserable for the rest of your life. You are only eighteen. Eugene Parker is forty-eight. A man his age can’t make a young woman happy.”

  She began to cry. “I’m going to miss you and Father but I am glad you’re doing this for me.”

  Her mother hugged her. “I’ll miss you too, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her mother pulled away from her and handed her the small handbag with the jewelry in it. She picked up her suitcase and quietly led her to the front door of the house and walked out with her to the horse-drawn buggy whose rider was unfamiliar to Adrienne. “I didn’t want to risk anyone we know finding out, so I ordered this driver to take you to the train station. I’m sorry, but I must stay here. I don’t want to risk anyone seeing us together.”

  Adrienne nodded. The hour was early so no one else was awake to see them.

  “I love you, Adrienne. Your father loves you too. May God watch over you and protect you on your journey. I will be praying for you.”

  The driver took her suitcase and put it in the buggy.

  “I love you and Father.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart. I wish you could enjoy a good marriage but I suspect you will be confined to being a spinster. It’s not what I wished for you.”

  “I’ll be fine as long as I’m not with Mr. Parker.”

  “Wait for me to write to you before you write to me. I want your father to have time to cool down before we resume communication. He will be upset but he’ll adjust in time.”

  She nodded.

  Her mother gave her another hug and a kiss on the cheek before watching her leave in the buggy.

  Adrienne tried to be brave and not cry but she couldn’t help it. She felt a mixture of many emotions, but the biggest emotion she experienced was relief that she wouldn’t have to marry Mr. Parker after all.

  ***

  Adrienne was exhausted. It was almost impossible to sleep in a train seat. She took a deep breath to calm her anxiety. The train reached Virginia by mid-afternoon. It had been a long trip on her way to New York, but she would rather be here than married to Mr. Parker.

  She closed her eyes, aware of the train swaying her gently back and forth. She continued to cry off and on as the miles between her and California increased.

  The afternoon dragged on and the tree-filled landscape in Virginia passed by outside the window. Though she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. She had spent days on the rails. She needed a decent meal, a bath and a good night’s sleep. By late afternoon, the train stopped again and some people got on while others got off. She wondered how much longer they would be in Virginia. Each state she passed seemed to take longer and longer to get through. She wanted to get to New York City so she could be done traveling. She seriously doubted that she would ever travel again after this trying experience.

  “Bye, everyone!”

  Everyone in the train car could hear the young man as he hopped onto the train. He couldn’t have been older than twenty. He had short light blond hair, green eyes, and a slender frame. His brown hat matched his farm clothes which had seen better days. She turned her eyes to the window and saw a group of people waving to him. The women were crying and the men were grinning at him.

  “I wil
l write as soon as I get to New York,” he yelled before the doors closed. He chuckled as a young boy held up a mouse and waved its paw. “That’s my crazy brother,” he told the conductor who checked his ticket. “He takes that mouse everywhere he goes.”

  The conductor smiled and showed him to his seat.

  “Thank you, sir.” He nodded as he plopped down in the seat across from her. He had a manila folder in one hand and a pencil in the other. He opened his folder and took out the papers in it and began writing as the train started up.

  How could he write with all the movement from the train? She noted that he wrote with intensity. Whatever he’s working on, it must be good. She turned her attention back to the window and stared at the trees until she got sleepy. She closed her eyes again, hoping she could take a nap.

  She managed to drift off to a light sleep when a male voice gruffly said, “Hold your hands up and give us all your money.”

  Her eyelids flew open and she saw two masked men holding guns and pointing them at the passengers. She gasped and immediately put her hands up.

  “Take it easy and no one will get hurt,” one man said as he passed a black bag around the train car so that people could drop their money into it.

  She was briefly aware that a child was crying in the back as the person in front of her handed her the bag. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had never been robbed before. She dumbly held the bag.

  The man closest to her walked over to her and pointed to her handbag. “Put it in and move the bag to the person behind you,” he said in a low grating voice that reminded her of nails scraping a chalkboard.

  She trembled. She knew she had to move but couldn’t seem to do so.

  “Here, let me do it,” the other man said as he threw her handbag into the black bag.

  She noted the birthmark on his wrist that was in the shape of a boot. It looks just like Italy. That she should think such a thing at this horrible moment amazed her. She was relieved she couldn’t see their faces through their black masks, for they would surely haunt her dreams if she knew what they looked like.

  The man holding the gun at her threw the bag to the person behind her.

  That’s all the money I have. She covered her eyes as she began to cry.

  “Hands up!” The man with the birthmark shoved his hand on her shoulder.

  She quickly obeyed him.

  “Don’t get your underwear in a bunch,” the young man across from her said.

  “Did anyone ask for your opinion?” the man hissed at him.

  “She’s scared and alone. Give her a break. Here’s my wallet.” He threw it at the man.

  The man caught it and huffed as he walked to the person behind him.

  She was too frightened to speak. I am alone. She wondered if leaving California had been a mistake. She didn’t have anyone to help her. Would she make it to her destination?

  After the two men left the train car, the young man across from her looked at her.

  “Are you doing alright?” he asked.

  What kind of question was that? She was all by herself, running from a man she didn’t wish to marry and she just lost all of her money.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Of course, you’re not alright. You were just robbed.”

  She wiped her tears away.

  The person behind her told the other passengers that the robbers left the train car. Everyone on board breathed a sigh of relief.

  The man who sat across from her looked over at her again. “Do you need anything? I could get you some water or something.”

  She shook her head.

  He smiled. “My name is Trevor Lewis. If you need anything, just let me know. I don’t mind helping you out. You look like you could use a friend.”

  She wondered what he meant by that. She decided not to ask. She didn’t want to talk to strangers. She didn’t know if she could trust anyone except for her aunt. She just nodded at him and turned back to the window.

  He turned back to his writing.

  How could he be so calm and just pick up where he left off with his work? She was shaken to the core. She wrapped her arms around herself to ease the sudden wave of vulnerability that washed over her. She didn’t wish to cry again. Her eyes were sore and red from the crying she had been doing for the past few days. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions and turned her attention to the trees outside the window.

  Chapter Two

  The train stopped and she noticed the two masked men leave the train. She did feel better knowing they were gone. At least she knew they wouldn’t be coming back for something else. While the train remained still so the robbers could get off, the young man across from her stood up with his folder and sauntered to the back of the train car. She wondered where he was going. She shook her head. What did it matter where he was going? It’s not like she knew him or anything. Still, it was nice that he cared enough to ask how she was doing. She sighed. She didn’t wish to dwell on how much she missed her home back in California. It’s not worth marrying Mr. Parker and being nothing more than a breeder for the sake of his precious legacy.

  “Adrienne! You must return home,” someone called out to her.

  She jerked up in her seat and gasped. How did her father find out that she was on this train? How did he manage to catch up with her? He approached her, apparently angry that she had run away. She bolted out of her seat and ran in the opposite direction. She refused to go back. She would rather be robbed again than return to the future her mother had just rescued her from.

  “Adrienne! Come back!”

  A man stood up in the aisle and stopped her father. “Excuse me, sir. Who are you and what do you want with that young lady?”

  “I’m her father. Get out of my way! She has defied me.”

  She continued to run. She ran from one train car to another. She had to get off the train! It was her only hope of avoiding a loveless marriage. She found the exit door which was right by the restrooms. She quickly glanced back and noticed that her father wasn’t behind her. Thankfully, the man had stopped him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to outrun him. Just as she was ready to hop off the train, she bumped into Trevor who was leaving the restroom. She tripped on the step. Without thinking, she reached up and grabbed him by the shirt in hopes of steadying herself but she only succeeded in pulling him down the steps with her. He released his folder in surprise and his papers went flying all over the place as they tumbled out of the train and onto the ground beside the train tracks.

  Before they could stand up, the train was already pulling out of the station.

  Trevor yelled for it to stop, but it picked up speed as it chugged down the tracks. “My play!” Trevor yelled as he watched the train run over half of his papers.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized her father was not able to get off the train.

  “I can’t believe this! I spent three weeks on this play. I only had one more scene to go and I was going to be done!” He stared after the train that was quickly disappearing behind the trees. Once it was out of sight, he turned back to the train tracks and picked up a couple of ripped up papers.

  She stood up and brushed the grass and dirt from her dress. She had never been filthy before, so she cringed at her soiled hands.

  To her surprise, Trevor sat on the train tracks, clutching the torn papers to his chest. “A month of my life has been destroyed in a matter of minutes,” he wailed.

  Hoping to comfort him, she said, “You can always write it again.”

  His head shot up. “You talk?”

  “Of course, I talk.”

  “I thought you were mute.”

  She blinked. What gave him that idea?

  He examined the scattered pieces of paper that covered the tracks and grass. “My work. My precious work.”

  “What’s the big deal? You can always write it again,” she repeated.

  His jaw dropped, as if she had just offended him. “I can’t just automatica
lly replace my writing. Each time I write something, it is unique. It’s like a child.”

  “Aren’t you being melodramatic?”

  “You don’t understand a writer’s attachment to his work. When I conceive an idea, I begin to put it on paper. As I’m writing, it’s like a pregnancy. It slowly grows and develops into something that turns out beautiful and wonderful. Then when I’m done, I have given birth to a new story.”

  She rolled her eyes. That is the dumbest analogy I’ve ever heard.

  “Don’t you read?”

  She was surprised by his question. “I can read.” Couldn’t he tell by looking at her clothes that she enjoyed a higher standard of living and education than he did?

  “Do you enjoy reading?”

  She shrugged. “It depends on the book.”

  “Imagine that your favorite book was completely destroyed. How would that make you feel?”

  “I wouldn’t care. I still have the story in my head. I can recall it anytime I want. Just write the story out again. Thinking it up is the hard part.”

  “But it won’t be the exact same story. Things always change when I do it over.”

  She sighed, quickly getting irritated. “Well, you can’t collect all your papers and put them back together. What’s the point in moaning over something that’s gone?”

  “You are one cold-hearted lady.”

  Now she was offended. “I’m realistic. Look around you. Do you think you can gather all the papers together? Some are probably stuck on the train.”

  “Would a little sympathy kill you?”

  “It’s just a story. You can rewrite it. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be better the second time around.”

  He could only stare at her.

  “Fine. Do whatever you want. I’m going to find out where we are.” She turned and walked to the station so she could talk to the man at the ticket counter. As she walked on the platform, she wondered what she could possibly do about getting to New York.