The others on the platform watched Karen with looks of distaste, all of them wondering how a woman in her condition could dare travel. She jumped when a hand fell on her lower back. Whipping around, she saw a very forward, very cross Mr. Laurel.
“My dear Mrs. Jones,” he said, taking her right hand in his. Karen tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held fast. “I would have thought, given our relationship, that you would have let me know of your intentions to travel.”
“Mr. Laurel, I apologize if I’ve given you the wrong impression, but we have no relationship.” Giving a final jerk, she freed her hand, moving it behind her back. “As to my traveling, that is none of your concern.”
“Oh, but it is.” He smiled. It was the sort of expression that melted the hearts of most women. “If my future bride is going to meander all over hither and yon, I ought to know.”
“Mr. Laurel, I don’t know when you made such a decision without me, but I assure you that this plan of yours will not come to fruition. I am betrothed, sir! The train I wait for is to take me to my fiancé. I suggest that you go about your business.”
Mr. Laurel’s arm snaked around Karen’s waist, pulling her in close as he whispered, “Oh, but this is my business. I intend to make you my wife, and no man shall stand in my way.” He pressed a forward kiss to her cheek.
Karen’s stomach roiled at the touch of his lips. She wanted to sob for the violation, but her mother, though no longer with her, had taught her better. As Mr. Laurel pulled away, her hand slapped his face so hard it made her palm sting. The sound rang through the area, turning heads.
“Perhaps,” Karen said, straightening her spine. “you will think twice before taking such liberties with women.”
As the train screeched to a halt before the platform, Mr. Laurel’s hand touched the red area on his cheek left by her hand. His handsome face contorted into something frightening. It reminded Karen of the monsters she once thought lived under her bed as a child. Cold, hard, and willing to hurt anyone.
“This is not the end, Karen my love.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, back to whatever posh business was his. Karen scurried to get into the train car, passing her ticket off to the conductor.
“I saw that out there,” the conductor said, nodding gravely. “Nice work, ma’am. I’ve got a sister back in England - a young thing, she is. I can only hope she’d do just as you have.”
Karen smiled at the man, glad of his kind words. She had begun to think that, perhaps, she had overreacted to Mr. Laurel’s advances. The man seemed to care nothing for a woman’s reputation. Perhaps he thought such behavior would prevent her from finding another suitor.
“Well,” she whispered, a hand falling to her stomach, where her child grew. “That makes two of you trying to make my courting difficult.” The baby kicked, and she smiled.
Guilt began to gnaw at her conscience. Karen had elected not to tell Mr. Remington of her condition. A man does not wish to hear that his betrothed is already with child. Closing her eyes, she imagined her fiancé as he’d described himself. Tall, dark hair, and blue eyes. Oh, she wished men were more specific with colors. Of course, his looks hardly mattered, just so long as he didn’t turn her away when he saw her.
********
“Ma’am, are you alright? Ma’am?” Karen shook her head as she hunched over, vomiting on the ground. The conductor had kindly followed her out of the train car to see to her well-being. It was a shame, really, because now she was mortified.
“I’m fine, I assure you.” The scent of her own sickness made bile rise in Karen’s throat. “Don’t worry for me, please.” She dry-heaved for a while, wishing she hadn’t eaten breakfast. The eggs had not been kind to her. Nor had the scent of them.
“Are you certain? I could go after some mint for you. It’ll settle your stomach some. My wife swears by it.” Karen shook her head though the mint sounded lovely.
“You’ve done enough to help me. See to the other passengers. There’s an aging woman near the front, and she’s lost her cane.” It was true, though said as an excuse to be alone. Embarrassment is a thing best dealt with by oneself.
When her stomach was empty and her throat raw from sickness, Karen stood on shaking legs, leaning back to relieve some of the pressure on her spine. She stumbled to the boarding house that the other travelers recommended. It was a large building with a restaurant in the front and lodgings at the back.
The moment Karen stepped through the door, she could smell the home-like scent of bread. Oh, it was nearly Heaven, especially when compared with the stale fare to be found in the dry goods stores she’d had to purchase food from. She ate a surprisingly large amount, considering the way she’d reacted to breakfast.
When the time came to board the train again, she contemplated lying on the floor and refusing to move. Her feet hurt, she was nauseous and staying put seemed to be the better option. Then she remembered Mr. Remington, and his kindness to her, how he’d sent the funds to bring her to Texas. She imagined how disappointed he’d be. Then she boarded the train. Her choice had been made.
Lone Oak Texas
May 1866
Kade tried not to fidget as he stood on the train platform. He didn’t like to draw attention to himself. Of course, when one considered the fact that he was a head taller than the others on the platform and that there were only four people there in all, it seemed a lost cause.
“God, protect Mrs. Jones,” he whispered. The train was more than two hours late. Far too many dangers could befall a young woman traveling alone. He should have gone to Virginia to accompany her.
The shrill cries of a train whistle reached him, and Kade, along with the others waiting, turned towards the sound. Flying over the land like a great snake came the train, a beast of metal that never failed to amaze. It came to a screeching halt before the platform, kicking up dust from the rails.
A door slide open, and just five people exited, all of which were men, married, or children. Kade sighed, wondering if he had gotten the date of Karen Jones’s arrival wrong. He would have sworn by her arriving today, though.
“Wait, Mr. Morley.” He looked up sharply at the sound of a woman’s voice. The conductor, who had nearly closed the door, turned and smiled at someone inside the car. He nodded, and a young woman stepped out of the train car, stomach first. “Thank you. Good luck to you and your wife.”
Kade watched as the woman, large with child looked around the platform. He could only assume that she was there to meet her husband. Although, the lack of a ring on her finger might suggest otherwise.
Not ten minutes passed, and Kade was left alone but for the woman. She glanced in his direction, opening her mouth as if to speak, then must have thought better of it, for she found the nearest bench and sat down. Her valise dropped to the planks beside her with a thud and she sighed.
“Excuse me,” Kade said, moving to stand before her. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“I suppose so. My fiancé was supposed to meet me here. We’re to be married today.” Kade smiled. Preacher Zooker would have had a busy day if Karen had come. “But he’s neglected to make an appearance.”
“Is there anything I could do to help you? Under the usual circumstances, I would leave you to your business, but you’re . . .” He didn’t know how to politely say, “with child”. There really was no way for a man to say such a thing to a woman.
“I understand,” the woman said her face reddening. “But I don’t believe there to be any assistance you could offer.”
“Well, perhaps if you told me his name? Lone Oak is a small town. I know nearly everyone here.” She smiled, folding her hands over top of her stomach.
“Alright, then. His name is Kade Remington. I’m not sure exactly how long he’s lived here, but it’s been at least a few years. He told me he owns a small ranch several miles outside of town. Do you know him?” Kade felt his face pale.
“Yes, I do.” He took off his hat and pushed a hand throug
h his dark hair. “Are you Karen Jones?”
“Yes, that’s me. Do you know where I might find him? If he’s somewhere in town, I could likely fetch him myself.” Kade felt ill. He hadn’t thought that his betrothed would be with child.
“I do.” His words came slowly, and he swallowed, plopping his hat back on his head. “You can find him right here. I . . . I’m Kade Remington.”
“You’re . . .” Karen’s smile vanished and her brows knit in confusion. “Why didn’t you just say so? And here I was thinking you’d abandoned me.”
“Why would I have said anything?” Kade stood, rubbing his eyes. “Mrs., Jones, why would I see you and assume that you were my betrothed?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because I was the only unmarried female to set foot on this platform?”
“You’re with child!” Karen’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped in mock surprise. Her finger raised to cover her mouth.
“Are you certain? I hadn’t noticed.” There was a long pause as Kade tried to figure out how this woman had gotten so bold. She sighed, her face softening. “I apologize, Mr. Remington. During our correspondence, I thought it would be best to tell you when we met.”
“Did you truly think you would have to tell me? I think the state of things is obvious by this point.” Karen blinked a few times. Was she crying? “Please, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No, I’m alright,” she said, standing slowly. Her hand found her lower back, balancing her stomach. “If we could get on with things, I would be most grateful.”
Despite the quiet confidence in the words, her voice shook. A single tear escaped, and she tried to subtly wipe it away. Kade felt as though he had swallowed a stone. When Karen started to bend in an attempt to take up her valise, he picked it up first, offering his arm.
“You’re right. Preacher Zooker will only be at the Barrington Boarding House until noon.” Karen took his arm gingerly, barely touching him. Kade didn’t know how he would handle the soon-to-come infant, but he knew he would. He wasn’t a man to go back on his word.
********
It was a quiet ride in Kade’s wagon. Karen spent it trying to hold back irrational tears. She understood that Mr. Remington was upset, and she most certainly understood why. And yet it broke her heart to see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. Of course, it would be there, and yet she cried.
When they reached the boarding house, Kade came around to help her out of the wagon, though he didn’t look her in the eye. His face was stained red, presumably a permanent thing. Karen followed her stiff and silent fiancé into the boarding house, looking carefully at each and every thing inside of the rickety building.
The boarding house itself was made of splintering boards and poorly papered inner walls. It was haphazard at best. There were a few pieces of furniture, such as the large dining table that greeted all who entered, that made the space tolerable. There were carvings of lovely flowers at the corners of the table, so finely made they almost appeared real.
Sitting in one of the chairs, which was not half so nice as the table, was a preacher in a dark coat. He was a middle-aged man, with salt and pepper hair, and a smile that told a story of sadness and joy. Life glowed from the man, as though he were a lantern on a dark night.
“Afternoon, Preacher,” Kade said, nodding a greeting. The preacher’s smile widened as he took in Karen’s appearance.
“And good day to you, son. Is this the lucky bride?” Karen supposed she was lucky. How many men would marry a woman with child? “I’m Preacher Zooker. MY family comes from Germany, in case it isn’t obvious.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Karen said quietly. The preacher stood, straightening his clothing. He clapped his hands eagerly.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” From there, the ceremony went far quicker than she would have guessed. It was a rush of words and agreements, promises, and advice. Within ten minutes, two lives were joined together, welded in a bond not to be broken.
When the words had been said, the preacher shook the hands of the newlyweds, smiling as though his life had been made better. As soon as the man was gone, Karen had to fight the urge to sigh in relief. It had been surprisingly tiring to stand on her feet, balancing the extra weight of her unborn child.
“I suppose we’d best head home,” Kade muttered, offering his arm. Karen took it, inwardly despairing of the tone in his voice. As though he was a prisoner.
It was quiet as the two rode out of town, Karen’s suitcase rattling about in the wagon bed. If she had to guess, she’d have said they’d traveled ten miles over the course of an hour. Unfortunately, the bench became uncomfortable after fifteen minutes. She fell asleep after forty minutes, dreaming of Peter, the conversations they’d have as they rode together. Things long gone and dearly missed. Perhaps, given time, she’d find them again with Kade.
“Mrs. Jones,” came a voice, bursting into her dreams. “We’re home. Wake up.”
Slowly, her groggy eyes opened, and there beside her was not Peter, but Kade. Her new husband. She tried to muster a smile, something jovial and kind, but nausea hit her in the stomach like a blow. Hopping swiftly from the wagon, she released the contents of her stomach.
“Are you alright?” Kade asked when she’d finished. “Maybe you should lie down. I’ll show you what there is to see tomorrow.”
Though she wanted to argue, Karen found herself incapable of speech. Nodding, she followed him into a small house, to a little room of the side of the kitchen, where she found herself in a sturdy bed. She tried to stay awake, oh did she try, but soon, she slept, again dreaming.
Lone Oak Texas
May 1866
When Karen and Kade had been married for three days, they had fallen into an odd sort of routine. The first morning had been odd. Karen had woken early in order to cook but tripped over something near her door. She would have fallen if what she’d tripped on hadn’t caught her. She was surprised to see, in the light of early morning, that it was Kade she’d fallen over.
“I . . . I’m sorry, Mr. Remington. If I’d known you slept on the floor, I’d have been more watchful.” She frowned as she tried to see his face. “Wait a moment, why on Earth would you sleep on the floor? Don’t you have a bed?”
“Yes. There happened to be a wife in it, though, so the floor seemed like a better idea.” Karen blushed, guilt wrapping around her.
“I hadn’t meant to take your bed. You can have it back.” She stood, realizing that Kade’s arms were still around her. And there she was in her night dress.
“There’s just one bed. We can’t very well share it right now, and you can’t sleep on the floor in your . . . state.” Sighing, Karen moved into the kitchen, Kade following behind her and lighting a fire in the woodstove.
After that, they went about their day in relative normalcy. By the end of the second day, Karen had grown used to Kade, though he would not have said the same. On the third morning, she woke early, being careful to avoid stepping on her husband. An odd thing to worry about.
Karen went out to the chicken coop that sat between the house and the barn, carrying a basket lined with soft rags. Opening the top of the coop, she rifled under the chickens, who squawked and flapped, unused to the hand of any other than Kade. Five eggs were her reward, all nestled in her basket, ready to be cooked.
By the time Karen had returned to the kitchen, Kade was waiting for her. He hadn’t brought any meat from the cellar as he had the previous day. The vomiting that had followed Karen’s cooking the meat had made an impression.
It took less than an hour for the table to be laden with egg and cheese biscuits, along with warm porridge and coffee. When Karen sat down, she sighed, glad to be off her feet. Kade frowned, taking his seat across from her.
“Are you feeling alright?” She nodded, taking just of biscuit for her plate. The scent of the coffee made her stomach churn.
“I’m fine, truly. It’s just that . . .” Karen hesitated, unsure wheth
er it was appropriate to speak of her condition. Finally she said, “The closer I get to the end of this, the more often I feel sick. And tired. And, honestly, irritable.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Though he blushed at the conversation, his voice was honest. “If there is, just say the word, and I’ll do all I can.”
“No, this isn’t exactly something to be cured. It’s all a natural progression. Or so says the ladies I’ve spoken with.” Kade sighed, taking a large bite of his biscuit.
“Well, for someone who gets sick so easily around food, you’re a fantastic cook.” She smiled, picking at her meal.
“I learned from the best - my mother. She was an amazing woman, really.” Karen forced herself to eat the food before her. She needed to keep up her strength. It wasn’t just her anymore.
[2016] A Widow's Love Page 4
