Love Blooms in Winter

by Lori Copeland

  His voice broke through her thoughts. “You think Jake will marry you soon?”

  Surprised by the question, she sat up straighter. Did she think Jake would marry her soon? Though not intended, he made it sound like a kindhearted concession. Tom never spoke about Jake unless he was picking on her. “I don’t know. As I told you before, Jake wants to take a little time—”

  “That doesn’t concern you?”

  “I thought it would.” She shook her head. “Oddly enough, I’m also in no hurry to marry.”

  “To marry—or to marry Jake?”

  Anger flared. “Why would you ask me such a thing?” She both liked and disliked his unpredictable nature. Even if the unthinkable would happen, and he would express feelings for her, they’d make a terrible couple. She wasn’t proud of her stubborn side, and he sure had his own mule-headed moments. They would be Fisk and Lil all over again. But it didn’t really matter. He was leaving and she wasn’t. Why beat the subject to death?

  “Why can’t you answer me?”

  “Because…it’s obvious. I’ve waited six long years for that man to propose.”

  “And now that he finally got around to it, you feel you’ve reached your goal—but wait. Is marrying Jake still your goal?”

  Her head whirled from the interrogation. She was relentlessly pursuing the same idiotic questions, but he had no right to doubt her intentions. He would get on a train Thursday morning and be out of her life with a turn of wheels, while she would remain here and marry a good, solid provider.

  It seemed she was more in love with the idea of marriage than marrying Jake and loving him as a husband. Who made the better choice? Tom would go home to a small room in a house that wasn’t his. She would marry Jake, and eventually they would build the nicest, biggest home in town—which wouldn’t take much. Two stories would be a mansion in Dwadlo. Hopes of Tom remaining here, marrying her, and forming a family with her—a loving, caring, and devoted family that included Jeremy and Pauline—vanished like her breath in the cold air.

  “Tom, are you asking me not to marry Jake?” There, she’d put the problem—if one existed—back on him.

  Resting his head on the back of the locomotive, he answered with his eyes shut. “What if I am?”

  “Are you?” Mae held her breath.

  He sat up straight and opened his eyes. “I can’t ask you not to marry Jake, Mae. You accepted his proposal and his ring. I was just wondering if that’s still your goal in life.”

  She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never been more confused. What was her goal? At the moment she had no idea. She remained silent.

  “That’s all the answer I need. I guess right now all we have left to talk about is Pauline. I don’t plan to desert her. I suppose after all that I’ll have to take her to Chicago with me. You, Jake, and Jeremy can have your lives here in Dwadlo. As badly as I hate to say this, Jake’s all right. He’ll take care of you and Jeremy and provide everything you’ll ever need. I’ll warn you right now that he’ll get rid of the dogs and cats, but I suppose you can live with that even though it will upset Pauline.”

  His concessions offered little consolation. She knew Jake was basically a decent man. Yet she also suspected he would dispose of the animals swiftly. Why had it taken a silly ring to bring out her true feelings? She met Tom’s gaze. “I know you would never desert Pauline. You’ve been good to her, Tom. So very good, and I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Isn’t that what kin does? Takes care of one another?”

  “About that—”

  “Tom!” Fisk yelled. “We got a problem over here!”

  Setting his hat more firmly on his head, he dumped the remains of his coffee into the snow and then rose to his feet. “It’ll be a miracle if we get this track down by the deadline.”

  Then he was gone. She hadn’t had time to tell him about Pauline. A missed opportunity, but perhaps a mixed blessing. For the remainder of the night, he’d still look upon her kindly.

  Darkness gradually faded into a cold dawn. Tom sent the late shift home to sleep, and a fresh crew set to work. In the daylight it was easy to see obvious progress, which boosted morale, and the workers sang as they worked.

  Mae returned to town and unlocked the store around seven. Since the accident her whole schedule had been off. The woodstove that sat in the corner burned bright, so Dale must have come back to stoke it and make the pot of coffee that scented the air. She paused and warmed her hands and feet. The night at the site was the coldest she’d ever spent. As tired as she was, she thought she’d be able to accommodate the few customers expected today, as most everyone was either asleep from the night shift or working at the site.

  The telegraph machine started to click. She ran around the counter and into the cage to receive the message.

  SENDING TRAIN EARLY STOP HERRING MUST BE THERE ON TIME STOP WILL WAIT AT TEMPORARY SITE STOP

  Shaking her head, she walked to the machine and wrote down the message. Poor Tom. The railroad wouldn’t let up on him. He was working as hard and as fast he could.

  She turned when the front door opened and saw that Tom was there. Striding to the stove, he warmed his hands. She shoved the telegram into her pocket, grabbed two clean mugs, and joined him. “A wire just came in for you.” She set the mugs down and poured fresh coffee into them.

  He picked one up, frowning. “From the railroad, I’m sure.”

  “I’m afraid so.” She removed the piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

  He scanned the message, his eyes narrowing. “They can’t be serious.”

  “Seems they don’t know what to do with the herring.”

  “Clive is getting nervous. He doesn’t want to be stuck with all that fish.”

  “You can’t blame him.” She took a sip of her coffee and watched him as he mulled over what she’d said.

  “True, but as hard as we’ve worked, we still won’t have that rail laid until late Wednesday evening.”

  She wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll post a notice saying that the station will reopen no later than Thursday morning. The herring can be delivered, you can return to your job in Chicago, and I—”

  “Will marry Jake.”

  Twenty-Six

  Mae set her cup on a stool beside the stove where it would stay warm. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Jeremy and then get back to work.”

  “Whoa.” Tom stopped her. “You’re not going back to work until you’ve had some rest.”

  “But there’s still so much to do,” she protested when he took her arm and pointed her to Dale’s quarters in the back.

  “Get some sleep, Mae. I’ll be back around two and you can spell me.”

  She doubted his intent. He would work until he dropped. “Only if you promise to rest while I work.”

  “I promise.”

  Turning back to argue with him, she met his broad chest. A firm, unyielding wall that smelled of creosote and cold air. He put his hands on her arms to steady her. Slowly lifting her eyes, she locked gazes with him. For a moment the air left her lungs. He was so… Tom. So real. Butterflies leaped with joy in her stomach. What if he were the one God intended for her? What if she allowed a young girl’s fantasy to sway the future? His gaze refused to leave hers. The store’s warmth threatened to overcome her.

  They were still locked in a silent duel when Jeremy appeared, pulling on his coat. Stepping back quickly, Mae murmured, “I’ll put on a pot of stew before I lay down, Jeremy.”

  “Okay.” The boy grinned. “Hello, Tom Curtis.”

  Nodding, Tom returned a greeting.

  “Can I walk to work with you?” Jeremy patted the hemp tied to his waist. “First, though, I’ll have to cut more rope.”

  Jeremy opened the door and Tom started to follow him out.

  “Tom?” Mae watched him turn toward her and her breath caught in her throat. “Before you go, could I speak with
you?” Suddenly she felt as though not another minute could pass without her telling him about Pauline.

  “Jeremy, you get the rope and I’ll catch up with you.” Nodding, the boy closed the door. Tom turned to her. “What is it?”

  Oh, dear God, grant me the strength to do this. “There’s something that you need to know.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “It’s about Pauline—”

  He sighed. “Can’t it wait, Mae? One crisis at a time, if you don’t mind.”

  “No, it can’t wait, and didn’t you say the only thing we had left to talk about was Pauline?”

  “Fine. What is it you need to tell me?”

  “You know when you insisted—still insist—that Pauline isn’t your kin?”

  His nod did little to calm her.

  “Well…you’re correct.”

  His ruddy features turned vacant and his eyes registered a question.

  “That’s right, Tom. She’s not your aunt. She had a rare lucid moment yesterday, and she recalled exactly how your name and address happened to be written on a piece of paper in her desk drawer. The piece I found and mistakenly assumed from its presence that you were kin.”

  She waited for him to say something…anything. Instead he stood straight, his gaze on her. His features held a totally surprised expression, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted to celebrate or strangle her.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t justify my mistake. I should have investigated further, but I was desperate—”

  “Mae, I know that. Just tell me what she remembered.”

  “It appears that you were here as a boy. You came with the railroad official who was sent to purchase Pauline’s property some years back.” Relief left her like air from a pricked balloon. There. He knew, and he couldn’t flee this moment because he had to finish the train track or be stuck with a bunch of herring neither he nor the railroad wanted.

  It seemed every word struck him like a blunt force. She watched the play of emotions cross his features. Uncertainty. Disbelief. Then the one she feared most. Disdain.

  “You brought me all the way here to take care of a woman I didn’t know? Someone I had never laid eyes on?”

  “Well, that’s not true. You had met her. Don’t you remember?”

  “No, I don’t remember!” He shook his head. “Honestly, if I did, do you think I’d have stuck around here, fought off dogs and cats, rode the countryside looking for a home for my ‘aunt,’ put up with Dale day and night, night and day—” His tone took an ominous drop. “Singed off my eyebrows and hair trying to prevent a woman I didn’t know from harm?”

  “I… think you would.” She nodded, her fear dissipating. He was furious, and he had every right to be, but truthfully he was as much to blame as she was. “Are you telling me that nothing ever looked familiar to you? Not a single tree, bush, or house? When you apparently walked this woman’s property line, helped survey the town—even witnessed when that railroad man bought other property from one of Dwadlo’s citizens?”

  A light flashed in his eyes. Was it recognition? Mae could only hope Pauline was right in her recollection of what had happened all those years ago.

  “Wait… that empty building across from the railroad station, did that used to be a saloon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember.” He smiled. “I remember!”

  Her heart soared when he picked her up and twirled her around. She matched his laughter and didn’t want the moment to end, but seconds later he set her feet back on the floor.

  “I thought there was something familiar when I stepped off the train, but I have seen so many places I ignored the feeling. I was just a kid when we came here. My boss was the official who did all the negotiating. I was here to run his errands, take care of his horse, and get his drinks when he wanted them. The room where we stayed was in the back of that saloon.”

  “Then how did your name get on that paper in her desk?”

  “The old man gave it to her so she could contact me if she changed her mind. He didn’t want to have to deal with her. Mae, I want you to know that not for a minute have I been certain that Pauline was kin. As a matter of fact, I never believed she was my aunt.”

  “Then why did you stay?” The answer begged for more than a simple “Because you asked.” Was he good enough to interrupt his life for a complete stranger, or was there something more?

  Red-faced, he shrugged and turned away. Why was he upset all of a sudden? Crossing her arms, she waited, aware that somehow she had put him on the defense.

  “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.” Turning on his heel, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  “What’s eatin’ him?” Lil asked, reaching in the peanut barrel and watching as Tom stalked off down the street. “He ’bout blew me off my feet when I came in.”

  “He’s upset. And he has good reason to be.”

  “Track work going too slow?”

  “No. Pauline isn’t his kin.” If she read what Tom had said correctly, she was the reason he’d stayed, but she couldn’t tell Lil that. Then again, she could be wrong. He hadn’t exactly given her his reason in so many words.

  Lil spit out a shell. “Say that again?”

  “She’s not his kin.” Sinking to the bench, Mae bit her lower lip. “I’ve done a terrible thing, Lil. I brought him here under false pretence.”

  “How so?”

  “I made him believe Pauline was family and he had to assume her care. So he made the trip to Dwadlo.”

  “And what did he say when he met her?”

  “That she wasn’t related to him.”

  “So he knew. What’s your point?”

  “I kept insisting that she was his aunt and he kept denying it. I thought I had finally convinced him. I made him feel so obligated that he could do nothing less than find the poor woman a home.”

  “Which he hasn’t.”

  “Not for not trying. He’s searched high and low, but he can’t perform a miracle. He even agreed to take her back to Chicago with him.”

  Lil shelled another peanut. “That’s your trouble, Mae. So you made a mistake. It’s not the end of the world. You were doing a good deed and so was he. Regardless of whether she’s either one of your kin, she’s old and on her own. Someone has to take care of her.”

  “Someone will.” Mae sighed. “Jake and I will take her in.”

  “You think?”

  “Of course I think,” Mae snapped. Lil’s tone suggested she knew Jake would object, which he would, but that would be a condition to marrying Mae. Truth be known, Pauline was too old to go to Chicago. Mae wondered what she had been thinking when she’d suggested it in the first place.

  “My dear Mae, friend of my heart—you don’t know men.”

  “And you do?”

  “I shore do. Like the back of my chapped hand.”

  “You think pouring a man’s coffee cup to the brim so that he can’t drink it without spilling it is gaining you favor in Fisk’s eyes?”

  “No, nothing will make me look good in his eyes, but it gives me great pleasure to annoy him.”

  “That’s your basis for a strong marriage? Annoyance?”

  “Me annoying that man has nothing to do with marriage. Life is what it is. I don’t make the rules.”

  “Lil.” Mae shook her head. “You should seriously have a stern talk with yourself.”

  “I have and I don’t like the company. I see a hog farmer getting older and fatter every year. I’m losing my youth, Mae. My skin ain’t soft no more, my hair don’t shine like fire in the sunlight, my steps are slower, and when I look at myself in the looking glass, I’m not sure where the ol’ spit-and-fire Lil went.”

  “She’s still here, feisty as ever.” Mae leaned toward her friend and hugged her neck. “You’re not an old hog farmer. You’re a lovely woman who could do with more frequent baths. Your hair still shines if it doesn’t have dirt and other things in it, which it does more often than not
. You’re not as thin as a candlestick, but you’re far from fat. You’d give a person the shirt off your back, you know your Bible, though you don’t practice your knowledge half as often as you should, and you are a good person.” She refused to mention housekeeping, cooking, and choice of dress. She’d stick with the positive. “Any man should be proud to have you.”

  “I eat too much of my product.”

  Laughing, Mae marched her over to the new dresses. “Perhaps if you tried a little harder and bought this.” She picked up a pretty blue dress. “Fisk might open his eyes and see a loving woman instead of a shrill who threatens his manhood.”

  “You think so?” Lil eyed the dress thoughtfully and then turned. “Humph! That’s about as likely as Fisk getting to drive a locomotive someday.”

  “God has given you faith, Lil. Now use it.” It wasn’t that hard to figure out when it came to someone else’s life, so why was she having such a hard time with her own?

  Twenty-Seven

  The sound of the clicking telegraph machine woke Mae from a sound sleep. She hurriedly sat up and realized she’d been so exhausted that she’d fallen asleep on the bench in the store. Her joints, stiff from lying on a hard surface for too long, forced her to move, and she managed to get to the cage in time to transcribe the incoming message. Her heart jumped into her throat at the words.

  RUNAWAY TRAIN HEADED FOR DWADLO STOP FULL SPEED STOP THROTTLE STUCK STOP

  She had to get the message to Tom immediately! Grabbing her cloak, she flew out the door and ran toward the work site, telegram in hand.

  Though her boots skimmed over the snow-covered ground and she could barely catch her breath, she tried to run faster. The town of Dwadlo and its residents’ lives depended on her. Cold air burning her lungs, she pushed on until she finally she had to slow down.

  As the workers came into view she picked up her pace once again. When she thought she was within ear shot she yelled, “Tom! Tom!” He glanced up and she waved the piece of paper. In the blink of an eye she stumbled and felt her ankle twist. Pain shot up her left leg and the next instant she was lying in the snow. Footsteps approached and she looked up to see Tom.