by Lily George
Perhaps if she made it into a game or a challenge? “He’s just coming back from wherever he walked off to,” she said, giving Laura an encouraging smile. “Shall we surprise him by hurrying down and beating him to the carriage? Then we can complain about how long he kept us waiting while he perambulated about the grounds.”
A hesitant smile broke across Laura’s face, completely transforming her. She was no longer a morose child on the verge of a tantrum. She was a pretty young lady. Laura reached out, pulling on Ada’s hands.
“Yes. Let’s run!”
Chapter Five
Ada Westmore Burnett had accomplished the impossible. That was the simple truth. Jack glanced across the train car at his daughter, who was tucked up on a settee reading a book. Since the moment he had returned from his anguished walk around St. Louis, he had expected another fight. But what he found instead was Ada and Laura waiting for him in the carriage, packed and ready to get back to the train station. Laura was no longer sullen. She was quiet and perhaps a little melancholy, but her temper was not getting the better of her anymore.
Jack turned his attention to Ada. She sat at a small writing desk in the corner of the car, scribbling on a piece of paper with her pen. He got up and crossed the room, settling next to her. She did not pause in her writing as he sat down.
“What are you up to?” He darted a quick glance at Laura, but she was engrossed in her book. For some reason, he was self-conscious about being too close to Ada in his daughter’s presence. He was a fool to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to keep the peace, and if he showed too much interest in his wife, it might upset his daughter.
Ada looked over at him, her expression distracted. “I am writing down my thoughts for Laura’s school and upbringing. Will she be attending school locally, or shall I hire a governess to teach her?”
Governess—the word had a distinct whiff of St. Clair about it. So no, that wouldn’t do. “She can go to school with the other children in the area. There’s a schoolhouse about a mile down the road from our place.”
“Very good.” Ada turned her attention back to her paper. “I shall make a note of that.”
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. It was a good thing that this was the last leg of their journey home. He was tired of being cooped up in the train car, forced to be on his best behavior for the past few days. Once they got home, the first thing he’d do was take a long ride out onto the prairie.
“Do you need something to do?” Ada’s voice was unexpectedly sharp, and she gave him a pointed glare from her position at the desk. Being regarded so piercingly by those large blue eyes of hers was like being doused with a bucket of ice-cold water. It brought you to your senses, that was for sure. “I can certainly give you a job if you are bored.”
“Not bored. Just restless. Ready to be home.” He forced his fingers to be still.
“Well, then I shall distract you by asking you more details,” she replied primly.
He stifled a grin, along with the urge to tease her. Ada was always so proper and so serious. Of course, she was doing all of this for his benefit, so he should just be still and let her ramble on about houses and maids and schools. But something about her just begged for silliness. If only he could reach over and find out if she was ticklish, just to see her reaction. He leaned forward slightly, and as he did so, Laura drifted back into his view. He sat back abruptly. He couldn’t tease Ada in front of Laura. Everyone’s peace seemed so precariously balanced that there was no telling what could make it topple.
“You have the strangest look on your face just now,” Ada spoke up, shaking her head. “Oh well. I suppose the rigors of travel get to the best of us. How much longer until we reach home?”
It was gratifying to hear Ada speak of Winchester Falls as home. Did she really feel that way, or was she merely saying it for Laura’s benefit? Well, he would take what he could get. Amazing how lonely he’d been after Emily died. Not that she was very good company in life, at least not in those last years. She was, though, another presence around the house. Then, of course, they had Laura together. When they were both gone, it was very quiet.
“We just passed the turnoff for the Falls,” he replied. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Good.” Ada turned to Laura. “My dear, you should put away your book and anything else you brought from the sleeping car. Time to tidy up. We will be pulling into the station soon.”
Laura shot her stepmother a slightly sour look over the edges of her book, but she did as she was told. Ada bustled around, gathering her scattered pieces of paper.
“Oh, do help out, Jack. We have so much to do to get ready.” Ada brushed past him, her skirt catching on his bent knees as she flounced by.
He resisted the urge to tug at the fabric, forcing her to slow down and pay attention to him, and instead carefully unwound her skirts from around his leg. Ada didn’t even notice that she had gotten caught, so intent was she on getting all her trifles picked up before they reached Winchester Falls.
What was wrong with him? He was spending entirely too much time thinking about Ada and about her reactions to every little thing. This was what came of being too long inside and too long away from home. It was time for him to stop watching her every move and, instead, to focus on important things. He was, after all, a husband in name only. But he was a father in fact.
He shifted around and, as he did so, his hand brushed against his jacket pocket. Absentmindedly he stuffed his hand down inside, and his fingers clasped a doll. The toy he had purchased for his daughter in St. Louis had been riding around inside his jacket for days now. He withdrew it from his pocket and disentangled the doll from his handkerchief he had used to wrap it up and protect it. The doll looked none the worse for wear, fortunately.
“Here.” He handed the doll to Laura, who was putting her book away in a satchel. “I bought this for you in St. Louis.” He waited, his breath catching a little in his throat, as Laura took it from his grasp.
She smoothed the doll’s skirts and then carefully traced her finger down the banner that read St. Louis.
“What a lovely doll,” Ada spoke up from her end of the car.
Laura glanced up, frowning. “Thank you, Father,” she said, her voice prim. She tucked the doll inside the satchel with her book and then busied herself fluffing up the pillows she had lain upon.
His heart dropped a little. She just wasn’t willing to be natural with him. What would happen if he started teasing her, calling her his sunshine baby just as he had when she was little? Likely she would fix him with that glare, the one that made her look like the spitting image of her mother.
Well, glare or no glare, they would have to set one thing straight. It had been bothering him since before he brought her home from boarding school.
“Now that we’re in Winchester Falls, I expect you to call me Pa.” His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. He’d better take things easy. “We aren’t very formal out here.”
“I was told that Pa was what uneducated yokels called their fathers.” She kept her back to him, fussing with the ties on her satchel.
Ada took a step forward as though to physically stand between them, but he held up a warning hand. She paused, her eyes widening.
“Told by whom? Those uppity boarding-school teachers or your snob of a grandfather?” He should not have put it that way. He should have kept the peace. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had started yet another battle.
Ada gasped. “Jack, really.”
Laura spun around, her eyes blazing. “Grandfather wants what is best for me,” she cried. “I was being raised to be a lady, not some old ranch woman. I want to go back to St. Louis.” The last words were choked out on a sob.
Jack pointed at Ada. “She’s not lady enough for you, then?”
“That’s quite enough.” Ada stepped around them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jack, you simply must work on that temper of yours. Laura’s had a
difficult journey. Her world has been turned upside down. It’s quite natural for her to be feeling overwhelmed.”
Laura sniffed and gulped, still looking daggers at her father.
Ada turned to her stepdaughter. “Laura, your father has requested that you refer to him as Pa, and as a dutiful daughter, you must do so.”
Laura stared down at the carpet but gave a brief shrug.
The train began to slow, its wheels grinding and the brakes squealing. They must finally be at Winchester Falls. At last, he would be home, where he was king of his dominion. No more fancy restaurants, no more St. Clairs, no more train travel in close proximity to Ada Burnett. He would be back on the range, where a man could be free.
Without waiting for his wife or daughter, he clamped his hat on his head and swung down the steps to the station platform while the train crept into the station.
As soon as his boots touched the wooden planks, a familiar voice crowed, “Well, howdy, Jack! Are you just champing at the bit to be home?”
He turned, smiling at Pearl Colgan. “Good to see you, Pearl.”
She embraced him, giving his back a hearty whack. “So where’s that little scamp Laura? Don’t tell me you came back alone. Did you leave Ada in St. Louis?”
“They’re still on the train, getting their things. A man needs to breathe after being cooped up with two females for so long,” he replied, trying to make his response sound breezy.
Pearl nodded, assessing him as carefully as she would another trader before making a deal. “So Ada was successful in convincing Edmund?”
“Ada,” he replied, sudden heat flooding his face, “was incredible.”
Pearl fixed him with a stare, raising one gray eyebrow. “Was she?”
He didn’t usually get enthusiastic about anything, but as he remembered their dinner with St. Clair, he felt the same tug of gratitude and solidarity he had experienced that day. “Without her intervention, I don’t think the old man would have let me have my Laura.”
“And how has Laura been?” She was still looking at him carefully, trying to pry the truth out without having to use any words. It was her way. He was used to it by now.
“Without Ada, I’m not sure Laura would be here,” he replied. “Somehow, she convinced my daughter to come down to the carriage so we could leave. The little runt was stalling, saying she didn’t want me to be remarried.”
“Well, you got to understand where she’s coming from.” Pearl patted his shoulder. “Laura was only two when her mother died. Though she probably doesn’t remember her, I am sure she doesn’t want anyone to take her place. It’s family loyalty. She doesn’t know that Ada is your wife in name only. She doesn’t understand that Ada has a paid position to help you out. She thinks you fell in love again, and that’s bound to rankle.”
He shrugged. “I guess that’s true. Don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.”
“Give it time. If you were a praying man, I would tell you to pray on it. As it is, I’ll pray for you.” Pearl issued him a challenging smile.
Somehow, it felt good to know that Pearl would be praying for him. It meant a lot to have another friend helping him out.
There was a flurry of activity on the train steps, and Ada came down, followed by Laura. The wind caught Ada’s enormous hat, and she held it on with both hands. “Well, we certainly are home.” She laughed, making her way over to Pearl. “I still had my hat pinned to St. Louis weather.”
Pearl laughed and kissed her niece on both cheeks. When she broke away from Ada, she bent down to look at Laura. “Don’t tell me this is Laura. Why, Jack, you must be an old man. Here she is, growing into a little lady.”
Laura bobbed a brief curtsy, her tights still bagging at the knees, which were sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said, her voice clear.
“Darlin’ child, no need to be so formal with your aunt Pearl,” Pearl exclaimed, gathering Laura in a tight embrace. “I’ve known you since you were just a wee little thing. You don’t remember me, I guess, but I’ve been your neighbor for years. Ada’s my niece.”
When Laura extricated herself from Pearl’s arms, she gave a brief smile. Her hair ribbon had been knocked askew. She didn’t say anything more and stood politely to one side, completely disinterested in her hometown.
Pearl led them over to the waiting carriages, one for her and one for Jack. “Ada, the house is in apple-pie order. I think you’ll like it. Y’all want to come to dinner? At least let me help you get settled.”
“Should we wait for our trunks?” Ada turned, casting a worried look back at the train.
“I’m with Pearl. Let’s go home. I’ll send a boy to fetch them in a little bit.” He didn’t want to wait a moment longer.
“All right. Laura, ride in the carriage with your father. I want to spend some time discussing the household with Aunt Pearl as we go home,” Ada replied.
Laura fixed him with a glower that would curdle milk as he handed her up in the carriage. Ada climbed in beside Pearl, laughing and chatting with her aunt.
As he gave the horses their rein, a strange mixture of feelings took hold. He was happy to be home but nervous about bringing Laura into their home. What if she hated it as much as she hated him? Ada wasn’t beside him, either, and that contributed to an odd feeling of loss.
“Ada has been working hard to make the house nice for you,” he said as he turned the horses onto the main road. “She’s got your room all put together. I think you’ll like it. Do you remember our house at all?”
“No, I don’t.” Laura turned away from him and gazed at the horizon.
“You were just a little thing, of course, when we finished building it.” It was difficult to talk about the house, or about the past. But if it helped him to find common ground with his daughter, he would press on. “Your mother had a hand in designing it. She wanted porches that wrapped all the way around, just like they have at Evermore. They were difficult to build, but I made it happen.”
“That’s nice.” Her voice remained sullen, though. She didn’t really think it was nice at all if she spoke to him in that tone of voice.
Ada had advised him to remember how difficult Laura’s life was right now. He could respect that. Life was difficult for him, too, though. He had gone to battle to bring home his daughter, expecting her to be the sweet baby he always remembered. She wasn’t a baby anymore, though. She was a young lady, and an unhappy one at that. Would he ever find a connection with her?
The sooner they were home the better, he decided. He didn’t know if he was going or coming any longer.
*
Ada folded her hands tightly in her lap and concentrated on the thoughts swirling in her head. Over the course of their journey to and from St. Louis, she had worked hard to be the voice of reason and caution. It seemed she had tried to reconcile Jack Burnett with every estranged relative he possessed.
She should be tired. She should be exhausted. Instead, she felt slightly giddy, because she was at last going home, ready to uphold her end of the bargain. How strange it was to think of Texas as home, but so it was. Already it had staked its claim in her heart.
“Jack was mighty pleased with the way you handled Edmund St. Clair,” Aunt Pearl said as she guided the horses down the road. “I believe he called you ‘incredible.’”
Ada’s cheeks grew hot at the unexpected praise. Had she really won Jack’s approval? “I don’t know if anything I did was incredible,” she demurred. “I just tried my best to help.”
“Jack is a man of few words.” Aunt Pearl settled back in her seat, holding the reins slack in her gloved hands. “If you earn praise from him, it’s highly deserved. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound that effusive.”
Ada lapsed into silence. What could she say? Part of the strange emotions swirling within her had to do with Jack. She liked being in his company. It was pleasant—when he wasn’t in a temper—to have him around, even i
n the confines of the train car. Once they returned to the ranch, he would be off working again, and she would no longer have the opportunity to stay close. Besides, she had to worry about Laura, focus her attention on the girl’s proper upbringing.
“What’s Laura like?” Aunt Pearl steered the horses so they were following Jack’s carriage at a decorous pace.
“She’s upset. Understandably so, I suppose. She was told by her headmistress that I was her new mother. Frankly, that kind of message should have come from her own father,” Ada replied, frowning at the memory. “She refused to come home at first. I managed to talk her around, but she is still not happy about being here. She feels St. Louis is her home.”
“Well, she probably doesn’t remember much about Winchester Falls,” Aunt Pearl replied. Her voice was softer than Ada had ever heard it. “She won’t recall it with fond memories. Emily traveled back to Charleston with her a lot as a baby, and that’s why they have those two train cars, so she and her infant could travel in style. Edmund is a scoundrel and a snob, but he loves that grandchild of his. I do believe his concern for her is real.”
Ada nodded. St. Clair really did seem worried about Laura’s well-being and not just about exacting revenge on Jack. “I agree. I promised him I would bring her for two weeks every summer.”
“And Jack agreed to that?” Aunt Pearl gave a sharp bark of laughter. “You really did make the impossible happen, Ada.”
“He was fine with it as long as I travel as chaperone. Also, St. Clair insisted that I provide him with regular updates. He is going to have his man of affairs pay us a few visits at the ranch, too.”
“It’s a good thing I kept working on it while you were gone, then,” Aunt Pearl said with a laugh. If she was surprised that St. Clair would actually poke around the ranch to check on Laura, she didn’t let on. “It’s in pretty good shape. We have Laura’s room completely finished. The whole place is clean from ceiling to floor, with a pretty white iron bedstead and a dove-in-the-window quilt I made when I was first married to R. H. I think she’s going to like it here. Just keep being gentle with her as you have been, Ada. You two have a lot in common, if you think about it.”
