by Jessica Loft
No. They couldn’t. But it would be the honorable thing to at least discuss it.
After two days of reading and re-reading Shane’s letters to bolster my own lacking courage, I went to see my father in his office. Although his financial state was at the crux of the marriage deal, I sensed that he would be the more understanding of my parents.
He bent over his desk, ledger books open, scribbling furiously at contracts and other business-type items. My father was in the wrong business as well; he was a thinker, a tinkerer. Engineering would have been his heart’s desire had the war not impeded everyone’s hopes and dreams. It was a familiar story to most people in my father’s generation, that of the war interrupting life, of a blank canvas required on which they could all begin anew. I understood, and I understood why it was important for him to secure financial assistance.
However, my own generation, the children of the war, had a hope that our parents didn’t. With the frontier pushing west and new territories open for settling, we had the opportunity to draw that new canvas with bolder strokes, to write our own story, the rules of which were determined by its authors.
This I tried to explain to my father, as I watched his face at first grow red with anxiety, and then soften in the face of good, hard truth. His head dropped down into his hands and when he spoke, his voice was soft.
“You do not wish to marry Wentworth.”
My fingers twisted together. “No, sir. And I’m not even demanding that I get everything I want, that I deserve the world at my beck and call. I am saying that I don’t think Wentworth is a man who will come to value me as my own person. Your marriage to Mama has an element of regard and trust between the two of you. I think Wentworth knows that you offer me as a business arrangement, and he will treat me as he wishes. Why else would he force me to sail to the West Indies with him? The scheme is insanity!”
Father’s chin wobbled in a weak nod. “Yes, yes. It is. Well, I suppose that’s it, then.”
I sat up straighter. “I can go to Colorado?”
His eyes bore into mine. “Is this what you wish?”
My heart tried to burst from my chest and answer for me, but I managed to give a slight nod. “Will it hurt your finances so much, Father? Will it ruin you?”
He flapped a hand at me. “Certainly not, Sadie. We are not destitute. And really, Charleston is filled with importing firms I can work for if need be. It may be nice to make a change.”
“Perhaps you can look into engineering work, as you did before the war?”
A flash of joy shot across his face; for a moment his eyes lit up. “Possibly, yes. Thank you, Sadie.”
I stood to go. “For what?”
“For reminding me”—his eyes wandered to the window, to the glorious spring blooms outside—“that life is to be lived.”
After that conversation, I felt the burden of a thousand weights lifted from my chest. Father promised that he would break the news to my mother, and indeed I could hear the commotion from my room. I turned around in the middle of my bedroom and surveyed everything I could possibly want to pack into my lone trunk. My mind catalogued my clothes, which would need to be warm. I wanted to bring books and drawing things, because the mountains would assuredly provide ample inspiration. My most expensive items I would leave behind; perhaps my parents would be able to use them for their own good.
The next day I walked down Broad Street to the train station. With bounding excitement checked the schedule and reserved my seat on a train to depart in two days’ time. Then I went to the telegraph office to send a note to Shane.
Dear Shane T.: I depart Charleston on April 8. The long train journey will bring me to Denver on April 9. My ticket reads an arrival time of 6:13 p.m. I look forward to this new adventure. Sadie.
My heart was pounding as the letters tapped into the machine, transmitting my missive that would eventually pop out of a similar machine in Colorado. What would Shane think? What if he’d changed his mind??
CHAPTER 6
She couldn’t live at the ranch. Even if I could find a room for two, there was the question of the privy, and meals, and even if Sadie and I could move past the newness and awkwardness of what we were doing, I couldn’t subject her to the rest of the ranch. At the same time, I didn’t want to move to town and cut myself off from my job. I pondered this for many days, and finally, trying to keep my focus on Sadie’s and my commitment to making our own change, I went to see my boss.
As I sat outside of his office I marveled that I was even there. Before Seth’s death I tended to hide behind my big brother, letting him make the decisions and have the difficult conversations. In the near year since Seth died, I hadn’t done much of anything. How the past few months had changed my prospects!
Mr. Smalley was a kind gent; he called me in and shook my hand as soon as he saw me. “How can I help you, Shane?” His eyes were kind; he and his wife treated me well after Seth’s accident.
“Well, I’ll just get right to it, sir. I’m getting married.”
The old fellow’s eyes boggled. “Well, that is news! My congratulations, Shane! When is this happy event occurring?”
At that point I wasn’t certain when Sadie was coming. “In a week or two, sir. She lives back East and has to travel. What I was wondering about is whether you have a suggestion for where Sadie and I could live? I can’t necessarily put her in the bunkhouse.”
“Ha, no. Very true, Shane. Well, son, you are very much in luck. I’m actually glad you asked me this question.”
“You are?” There it was again, a reward handed to me for taking bold initiative.
“Yes. On the back quarter of the ranch—the northwest corner, you know—there is a cabin that my father built as the original ranch office. My wife has been out there the past week, cleaning it up. I’m buying a new herd next month to stow back there, and if you and your missus lived there to keep an eye on both the herd and the cabin that would be a big help to me.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Not only did Smalley have a personal house for me and Sadie, he viewed the whole scheme as a favor.
***
Two weeks later, after riding to the cabin for a few days to ready it for Sadie’s arrival, I packed my saddlebag to depart for Denver. I had cleared out my bunk and moved my things to the cabin. In a way it was sad, leaving behind the fellows that had become akin to family. On the other, what was life for but to start new adventures?
Tom helped me haul my things out to the cabin, as well as a few odds and ends that Mrs. Smalley wanted to send over to “make the lady feel welcome.” I was overwhelmed with both their kindness and my good luck.
We stood at the door to the cabin. It was ready for Sadie, and like I told her, what would come, would come.
“Go get your girl, Shane.”
“I believe I will.”
CHAPTER 7
It had been quite a while since I had ridden into Denver. Nearly a day’s ride away, the route wound between the foothills of the Rockies and the long, desolate plains, and it made for a lovely morning’s ride. As I drew near to the city I pondered the mystery of Sadie Collins: What did she look like? What were her likes and dislikes? Did she have a kind heart, a nice voice? All I really knew of her was that she was from South Carolina, and that she looked at life the same way as I. Everything else, I hoped, would fall into place.
The train station was crowded with evening arrivals. From Sadie’s telegram I had her ticket information and supposed arrival time. I found a seat on a bench and waited, watching the rest of my waiting counterparts stare east in search of their loved ones. Before long I heard the distant hum of an engine, the churn of the enormous steel wheels, and I could see the cloud of black smoke puff heavenward from the stack. Even if those sensory indicators were absent, my fellow attendees started murmuring, shifting as they waited, and craning their necks.
It came, from the south, from the Springs, chugging into the station and slowing down smoothly. A bloom of nerves tightene
d in my stomach; I remained seated while everyone else on the platform stood and moved towards the train doors.
Minutes passed, and I remained, watching travelers disembark, meet their parties, and move down the three blocks towards Denver’s main streets. It was quite a large city, the largest I’d ever been to, and the crowds were unreal. I wasn’t accustomed to so many people.
Eventually, the platform—little more than a wide patch of dirt under a large canopy—emptied out. Only a few stragglers remained, one of them a stately young woman with her chestnut hair pulled up in a twist. Her face held a creamy complexion, and her eyes were blue. I really hoped that she was Sadie, for she quite took my breath away. The other people faded from my notice as I focused on her. Her blue eyes flickered all around her, resting on each remaining passerby. A porter approached her with a large traveling trunk; I noticed she smiled at him and nodded, displaying great kindness. Her face held no hint of impatience or ill humor, just grace and loveliness. While not exactly pretty, her features were pleasant, made more so by a kind smile.
Without warning the blue eyes rested on me, and I was so surprised I didn’t avert my gaze. The look held, for longer than was strictly necessary. At the end of it, she smiled and walked my way.
“Shane,” she said, extending her hand.
CHAPTER 8
The train ride was long, and I was exhausted, but I had more pressing matters at hand. The anxiety of this marriage had worn me down during the journey and I was feeling worried about what I was getting into. When the train pulled into the station I stayed in my seat until the last possible moment, until the porter asked for my ticket and saw that I had only paid until Denver.
“End of the line for you, miss.”
“As you say.”
The kind man had helped me out of my seat and showed me the door. With a great sigh I stepped off of the train and gazed at the platform full of people. Upon first glance I saw none that looked like a man looking for his wife; and then, sitting at a bench under the canopy I saw a young man with ginger hair and the nicest face.
I took a chance and made my way over to him.
“Shane.”
He met my eyes. His were blue, and worth looking at.
“Sadie.”
As he rose from the bench I saw how tall and broad he was. It was not surprising, considering that he was a ranch hand. He took my outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. A tiny tremor of excitement went through me at his touch and his obvious kindness. He was apparently raised right.
“Let’s get your trunk.” Extending his arm towards me, he led me to where my trunk sat with the porter. As he conferred with the porter I glanced up at the sky.
“It’s near dark,” I told him. Overhead it was medium blue, not the bright of day but past dusk. To what I gathered was the west I saw the outline of the mountains, but it was growing too dark for my eyes to gather more than a vague idea of their majesty.
Shane nodded. He had a sharp face, high cheekbones and a broad forehead, with tan skin. “We can’t make it back to the ranch tonight. I thought we’d spend the night in Denver.” With a shy smile he dipped his head towards me. “Two rooms, of course. I couldn’t find a church to marry us this late, and I want to do this the honorable way.”
I was equal parts relieved, impressed, and disappointed. On one hand, it would be nice to just get the marriage over and done, so that we could get started with our life together. It seemed we would have to spend an awkward night in one another’s company before that happened.
“That was smart. Thank you, Shane,” I slid my fingers around his elbow and followed him a few blocks to the hotel. My hometown of Charleston had plenty to draw the eye, so the sight of bustling townspeople and city streets were only marginally interesting. However, I was so tired I allowed him to pull me along to a very nice hotel a few blocks from the train. Shane dropped my trunk in anteroom to the hotel’s foyer and approached the clerk.
“Good evening. I should have two single rooms reserved. I came by and paid a while ago. The name is Timmons.”
The clerk searched his registry and found the record. “Yes, sir. Here you are.” He handed two keys over to Shane, who turned to me. His expression registered the tiredness on my face, and he smiled. “Come. Let me take you to your room.”
When we reached my room, all thoughts of spending a pleasant evening in Shane’s company, getting to know one another over a nice dinner, ended abruptly. Shane stood my trunk upright in the corner of the room, which was really only large enough to hold a twin-sized bed and dresser. To my delight it also boasted a private bath. What luxury! I turned around and drank in all of the lovely details, marveling at what it was like to not have my mother and her maid hovering over me.
Shane watched me with an amused grin. “You look like you could use a bath and a long sleep.”
My shoulders sagged. “I am so sorry, Shane. I was truly looking forward to spending time with you this evening, but now I feel like I could drop. And this bed, it’s so…” I flopped onto it unceremoniously and spread my arms. “Well, it looks inviting.”
“I completely understand. By all means, sleep the night away. If you change your mind, I’m right next door. While you’re sleeping I’ll secure a church for us, for tomorrow morning.” A scant shade of nerves flickered across his face. “Does that suit?”
I nodded and reached for his hand. Briefly, I entwine my fingers with his. “It does indeed. Thank you.”
That night I slept like queen, long and quiet, with none of the fits and starts one would envision from staying in a strange new place. I assumed that Shane made it to his room safely and enjoyed a quiet evening of solitude; and also, I didn’t care. The morning sun shone into my window early, waking me from my long sleep. I rose with a quiver of excitement, and quickly washed and dressed. My small window did not permit me a view of the mountains, but no matter. The Rockies and I would become acquainted very soon.
A commotion in the hallway drew my attention. Somebody was banging on the door next to mine—Shane’s door? I heard the hotel clerk speaking. “Mr. Timmons! Mr. Timmons, sir! Open the door! You have to account for your doings, sir!”
Shane and I threw open our doors at the same time. We exchanged a glance before attending to the clerk, who likewise looked from Shane to me. “Mr. Timmons, sir. There’s a gentleman below stairs who says that you are traveling with his wife.”
“What?” I put my hands on my hips and stepped into the hallway. “Who says that?”
From the winding stairs I heard a voice say, “Sadie, my dear. There you are.”
CHAPTER 9
So, my morning turned out differently than I expected. After a calm night’s rest and waking up with eager anticipation to see Sadie again, I dressed and cleaned up quickly before hearing the clerk banging on my door.
In the hallway I was greeted to the sight of Sadie, the hotel clerk, and a new man ascending the stairs: a foppish, light foot if I’d ever seen one.
“Sadie, my dear. There you are.”
My stomach churned in anger as the man addressed my girl in such a manner. I scanned Sadie’s face; it was drained of color and her mouth hung open slightly. I closed the space between us by placing a hand on her arm and giving it a slight squeeze. It seemed to bring her back to reality. In a second, her mouth closed and she rounded on the man on the stairs.
“Wentworth, please don’t call me ‘dear.’ I am not your ‘dear.’ What are you doing here?”
The man finished ascending the stairs and joined us on the landing. He really was a sight; I almost felt bad for him, for he’d surely never been to Colorado before. His outfit alone identified him as a dandy, which would immediately turn most of the city’s residents against him. But in truth I hated the way he was looking at all of us—down his nose like he was superior—and especially the way he stared at Sadie, like he was coming to claim what was rightfully his.
My suspicion was confirmed with his next words. His face hardened the
slightest amount when he looked from her to me and back to her. “Sadie, it was very smart of you to come to Colorado for our wedding. I must admit I wouldn’t have thought about it on my own; then again, you are so very progressive, and I am not. Very well, Sadie. If you wish to get married and have a honeymoon here, we may do so.”
I pulled my arm away from Sadie’s, feeling the weight of confusion settle on me. Was there any truth to the man’s words? Did Sadie use me to get a train ticket out west, planning to marry the rich fellow all along? My eyes scanned her face again—there was shock and anger there. I didn’t see any sign of happiness to see him, or of satisfaction at a plan well made. And yet, I didn’t know. The man’s words definitely confused me greatly.
And he saw it. When my gaze flickered back to him, I could see there the knowledge that I was thrown by his presence. He pounced.
“Thank you for taking care of Sadie for me, my good man. We needed someone dependable to retrieve her from the train and keep her safe until my arrival. You are very good. Sadie, did you settle up with him?”
The confusion turned to anger and burned there, long and slow. I slowly shifted my eyes to Sadie, whose expression reflected my own feelings. She took a deep breath and leveled her gaze at Wentworth. “I have no idea what you are talking about. My coming out here had nothing to do with you, except for leaving our engagement behind so I could have a different life.” She turned to me. “Shane, don’t we have plans this morning?”
