My sweaty palms slipped on the bottle as I forced the cork back into the neck and returned the shot glass to the shelf. Thank goodness, I hadn’t poured the drink, or heaven forbid, taken a sip.
“Delivery for Miss Cora Colton,” a young man’s voice spoke from the doorway.
“Thank ya.” Gretchen entered the parlor a few seconds later, carrying a folded piece of parchment in her hands.
“It say URGENT, Miss Colton.”
“Thank you, Gretchen.”
I fetched the telegram from her hand and turned it over. The red ink of the urgent stamp covered most of the envelope, including my name and home address written on the front. I tore off the side and slipped the telegram from the wrapping.
CORA COLTON
1002 MOORE STREET SEATTLE WASH
AM YOUR FATHERS WIFE STOP MUST INFORM HIS PASSING STOP FUNERAL ONE WEEK SUNDAY STOP PLEASE ATTEND AND STAY WITH ME
ANNE COLTON
2407 BUCKEYE STREET TACOMA WASH
I dropped the telegram, letting it plummet to the floor and stepped away from it.
My father is dead?
Chapter 2
“Next please,” the cashier bellowed.
I stepped up to the counter, barely able to look the short, plump man in the eye. Why, I didn’t know. He was no one to me—not a parent or guardian. He certainly wouldn’t lecture me about my mistakes, or order me to stay in Seattle.
“One ticket to Tacoma, please.” My babyish voice cracked on the word, please.
“Just one?” He glanced at Grace who stood next to me, tapping her foot in annoyance. With her arms crossed, she glared at me and growled under her breath. Since the moment I confessed my intentions to travel, she had prodded me every step of the way—exasperated with my lack progress.
I nodded. “Yes, just one.”
“That’ll be one dollar.”
As I offered payment, the paper bill trembled, revealing the extent of my nerves. His eyes darted from me to Grace and then back to me, looking rather confused at the sight of us together.
A pair of complete opposite young women, one whose confidence radiated from her like heat from a boiling kettle of water, and one who looked like a frightened four year old.
I loathed my weakness, and yet, I allowed it to control me. My flaw haunted me daily, the one aspect about myself I would change if I had the courage.
“For the sake of Pete, Cora, you are an adult,” Grace snapped, yanking the ticket from the cashier’s hand.
The clerk nodded toward the clock. “The train leaves in about ten minutes. The porters outside will help you with your bag.”
Grace grabbed my arm and dragged me from the counter.
She settled into a dirty chair and tapped the seat next to her. I sat onto the hard, lumpy cushion, and my dress caught on a frayed edge. The cracked, brown leather smelled of the years of service inside the station.
“Grace, I don’t know how you talked me into this mess.”
“Oh, shut up, Cora. You certainly didn’t put up much of a fight while I packed your bag, nor while we traveled to the station.”
“Mother is going to be furious with me, and I don’t want to know what Christopher will say.” The intense guilt weighed heavy on my shoulders, my ego deflated as I slouched into the hard chair.
“While I can’t help you with your mother, I’ll deal with Christopher for you, so don’t concern yourself with my brother.” She waved off my objections and lit a cigarette.
“Still, I should—”
“Cora, you said you wished you could attend your father’s funeral, so I packed your trunk and brought you to the train station. Did you lie to me?”
“No, no. I didn’t lie. I, well, I guess I thought I should at least speak to Mother about attending, and to Christopher. Young ladies just don’t make major decisions like this without asking—”
“Children ask permission. Adults do as they wish. Honestly, I don’t know where you get your timid attitude. No doubt from your mother, who’s too focused on being proper and ladylike. It’s no wonder your father had an affair.”
She flicked her half smoked cigarette to the ground and squished it under her shoe, then grabbed a copy of today’s Seattle Daily Times and opened the pages.
I bit back the response I might have said. I’d learned long ago that casting protests against Grace’s opinions proved nothing more than a waste of time and breath.
At times, I looked at her through green eyes. Sitting in this train station without consulting Mother was the boldest thing I’d ever done, and yet, mild compared to Grace’s life.
I only hope Christopher forgives me, and—
“What the devil are you doing?” Mother screeched as she approached my seat. Her heels clicked against the stone floor with such a force I thought they would crack the tiles.
“Mother,” I squealed. “Um . . . I . . . I was—”
She held up my goodbye note, now just a crinkled piece of parchment, and shook her fist in my face. “What is the meaning of you going to Tacoma to begin wedding plans without me?”
“Wedding plans?” Grace peered out from behind the paper.
“And, with her?” Mother hollered, pointing at a very confused looking Grace.
Grace growled as she folded the paper and slapped it against the seat. “Just when I thought you’d gained nerve, Cora, you perjure yourself like some immature child.”
Mother sputtered indignantly. “What does she mean, ‘perjure yourself’?”
My heart raced. “I received . . . a telegram . . . a few days ago.” In my panic, words and thoughts evaded me—escaping and leaving me a pathetic mess without any hope of making sense. “It was from Anne, and—”
“Don’t you dare say that woman’s name. I don’t wish to hear anything regarding that tramp.”
“Mother, she—”
“Not a word, young lady.” She turned her back to me.
“Father is dead.” I didn’t mean to shout at her, but she wouldn’t have listened otherwise.
She spun on her heel and stared at me. A hint of amusement flickered in her eyes and a smile toyed with her lips. Could she have heard me correctly? The ultimate revenge, her dreamed retribution against a man she loathed more than anything in this world. “What did you say?”
“Father is dead.”
I didn’t know exactly what I expected from her, but her sudden laughter wasn’t it. “The bastard got what he deserved,” she laughed.
“Mother, that is such an awful—”
“I can say whatever I please, young lady. You have no idea of the disgrace and shame I endured when I caught him with that woman and he abandoned me.”
“Even though he—”
“Cora, you will never understand.”
Over the years, her utter determination to cast aside everyone else’s feelings had eroded her last bit of empathy. I did understand, more than she thought. While she became the wife of an adulterer, I became the daughter of one, and I lived in the disgrace just as much as she did.
“I’m sorry for my dishonesty, Mother, but I’m attending the funeral.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m attending the funeral.”
“Over my dead body, you are. I forbid you to go.”
“I have every right to travel to my father’s funeral if I desire.”
“Why on earth would you want to attend? Or spend any time with that wretched, horrible woman. Do you want to meet her?”
“No, of course, I don’t want to meet her or spend time with her. My desire to go has nothing to do with Anne.”
“Then why do you want to attend?”
I turned away from her and closed my eyes, remembering the night I watched my father walk
out the front door. The rain pounded hard against the house, while the thunder boomed and lightening flashed across the sky.
My heart broke that night, and it never mended.
Along with Mother’s growing hatred came her lack of understanding. She couldn’t fathom that I didn’t carry the same ill will for my father as she did.
Only nine years old when he left, and just a child, I didn’t understand the battles they had fought on a daily basis or the emotions they had ripped from one another.
“Just wait until Christopher hears what you have to say for yourself,” she snapped.
A lump formed in my throat as I spun around to face her again. “You brought Christopher here?”
“He visited the house, searching for Grace, and then for you, and that is when we discovered your little note.”
“It doesn’t matter what you say, or what my brother says,” Grace stared at my mother without blinking, not even once, then calmly lit another cigarette.
Mother tilted her head back, then looked down her nose at Grace. “I should’ve known you would be involved in such a foolish decision.”
Grace smirked, blew a perfect smoke ring toward the general vicinity where Mother lingered, then shrugged her shoulders.
From the expression on Mother’s face, sheer fury began building in her body and emerged as contained rage, evidenced by her tapping right foot.
The very notion I had confided in the one person she would never want me to include didn’t bode well. She could overlook my deception, but she couldn’t overlook the fact that Grace participated in my defiance.
“Cora?” Christopher called out, pushing past the two men who were talking just inside the door.
“She lied,” Mother roared before he had reached us.
My heart pounded as he kissed my cheek. He showed no trace of a smile, but no hint of anger, either. He was just, emotionless, and that worried me more than if he had been infuriated.
That was Christopher—the calm person in the storm, the rational thinker, the manipulator that struck like a snake when you didn’t expect it. He always got exactly what he desired with an annoying confidence, defeating you with the facade that you made the choice to surrender.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Mother beamed. “I’m glad you arrived. Perhaps you can talk some sense into my foolish daughter. She isn’t traveling to Tacoma to arrange wedding plans, and Grace isn’t traveling with her.”
“Mother, I don’t think—”
“Cora, Christopher is your fiancé and he has every right to know the details of your imprudent plans.”
“What is she talking about?” Christopher gave me the look.
I inhaled deeply, dreading each word I had to speak. “I received a telegram from Anne, my father’s wife, in Tacoma—”
“Ha. Wife. That woman brings nothing but disgrace to the word,” Mother mumbled under her breath.
“And?” Christopher pressed, ignoring her interruption.
“My father passed away.”
Christopher crossed one arm across his chest and grabbed his chin with the other hand. His eyebrows twitched and a crease formed in his forehead.
“I don’t know what to say, Cora. Have you ever spoken to him, or heard from him since he left?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Mother interrupted again, “which is exactly why I don’t understand, or condone, her ridiculous wish to attend his funeral.”
Christopher’s eyes widened. “You wish to what?”
“I planned to attend the funeral. It’s tomorrow, and I can travel by train to Tacoma, and return the day after.”
“Cora, I have a meeting scheduled tomorrow that I cannot reschedule. You simply can’t expect me to set off for Tacoma at a moment’s notice.”
“I never said you had to reschedule anything, or travel with me. I planned on attending alone.”
The disbelief on his face scared me for a second, along with his diminishing calmness. He said nothing, just began to pace in front of me. Every few seconds, he hesitated, faced me, and opened his mouth to speak, only to close it and pace once more.
“That’s an even more foolish idea than attending the funeral,” Mother scoffed. “A woman traveling alone, what type of young woman travels without her fiancé?”
“It’s not foolish,” Grace extinguished her second cigarette on the floor. “It’s not foolish in the slightest. Cora is fully capable of traveling alone. She’s not a child, Christopher, she’s a grown woman.”
“You’re both behaving like reckless, irresponsible fools,” Mother shouted.
“Excuse me, but isn’t the choice up to me?” I barked, no longer able to hold my tongue.
Mother threw her hands in the air and growled under her breath. “If you leave to attend that funeral, young lady, do not return. I mean it. Do not return. If you think for one minute I will put up with your disrespect and not—”
Christopher grabbed Mother’s waving hands with one of his and patted her on the shoulder with the other.
“Victoria, please calm down. Why don’t you wait for us in the motorcar? I will take care of this matter, and we will be out shortly.” His soft, reassuring voice calmed her instantly.
She mirrored his smile back at him, then took a deep breath. “Thank you, Christopher.” She bit her lip and cast a glare at Grace and me before storming out of the station.
Christopher grabbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Cora, why do you want to travel to Tacoma and attend the funeral of a man who caused you and your mother such pain?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain why. I just wish to, that is all.”
“That is not an answer.”
I’d given my reasons a great deal of thought since receiving the telegram, and yet, they were still uncertain in my head. Unexplainable forces urged me toward Tacoma and toward a part of my life that I didn’t know.
A search into the world of a stranger I would never know.
As my eyes darted from the floor, to the chair, to the wall, I inhaled a deep breath and met Christopher’s determined gaze. How could I make him understand the very things I struggled to perceive?
“If you cannot answer my question, then you can’t leave.”
“Christopher, may I have a moment with you?” Grace asked.
“No.”
“Don’t you dare ignore me, Christopher Payton. I demand a word with you, right now.” The anger in her tone made me want to cower to her and she wasn’t even talking to me.
He groaned and stuck his finger in my face. “You don’t move an inch.”
Christopher followed Grace. His fists were in tight balls as he strode. Grace didn’t hesitate for him to open the door, as a lady should. Was there no boundary she wouldn’t dare cross?
I’ve often thought she should have been born a man.
She followed her father’s business more than Christopher did, attended more meetings, and provoked more intimidating conversations, no matter the gender or age of those within hearing distance. She’d take on anyone: powerful, wealthy, or government men. She didn’t care.
In her mind, the more audacious she could be the better. A master in her own life, she could out smoke, out drink, and out curse any man she met, and all done with a level of class and elegance even Mother would envy.
I know I envied her.
The clock on the wall chimed—the train was leaving within minutes. If I waited in the station another second, I’d miss it, along with my only opportunity to leave Seattle.
An inch, Christopher? I’ll show you an inch.
“All going to Tacoma, now boarding,” the train attendant announced.
I grasped the handles of my bag and ran for the station dock with my ticket clutched in m
y hand. Every few seconds, I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Christopher. Panic spurred my pace.
I pushed my way through the crowd, cutting in front of everyone who obliged, and within moments, I scaled the stairs onto the train car.
Men, women, and children poured into the car both in front of me and behind me. Parents fussed at their children to take their seats as they organized their belongings.
A few suited men unfolded newspapers in disgust at the unruly boys and girls, while several others huddled together, speaking in an excited, animated fashion.
“I heard he brought back two tons of gold. Now he don’t have a single worry,” one of them said.
“Well, I bet ya we bring back three tons.”
“Yep, we’ll jus’ pluck it out of the water like we’re pluckin’ rocks.”
Standing in the aisle, waiting to move to another car, I bent down and searched through the windows for Christopher. All the faces blurred together, too many to focus on just one no matter how hard I tried.
I continued through car after car, glancing out the window more than searching for a seat. Suddenly, a woman shoved past me, nearly knocking my bag to the floor.
“Excuse me,” I blushed.
“Hurry up and find a seat,” she ordered. “Or do ya think someone is going to do it for ya, Princess?”
A few other women snickered at the other one’s taunt. Out of place and out of breath, my vision blurred and the walls of the car slowly caved in upon me.
Every pair of eyes stared at the pathetic mess I’d become. The consequences of asserting my independence reflected in their eyes.
Voices in my head began whispering hurtful words, like ‘look at that child of a girl’ and ‘what does she think she’s doing, she can’t possibly believe she can travel alone’.
In the Land of Gold Page 2
