Last Train Home

by Laura Stapleton

  Alice did as he suggested, the wind whipping up as she regretted leaving behind her bonnet. Her ears already ached. While she followed, her eyes kept focusing in on his broad shoulders far more than on the surrounding forest. His torso tapered nicely to a slim waist and she enjoyed how his pants hinted at the leg muscles underneath. She would need to know more about him before understanding why Mrs. Dryden had left. Right now, she couldn’t imagine running away from Jack for any reason.

  She glanced away from him, her face hot despite the chill. His good looks and kind demeanor weren’t related, and she needed to stay focused on finding the Hayses their best possible home. Daydreaming about Mr. Dryden helped no one. Alice shook her head as if to loosen the overly fresh thoughts about him. She needed to know his plans for a future without the children. “Do you want to stay here even if the adoption falls through? Or if Mrs. Dryden returns home?”

  He paused until she closed in to walk beside him. “I, well, my mind has changed in the past week and more so in the past day.” Giving her a side glance, he added, “Now, instead of accepting whatever decision you make, I intend on doing everything I can to keep the children with me. Ellie’s return is a moot point now. My focus is on signing the adoption papers.”

  “Oh?” Alice snorted a little, thinking he showed some sass in assuming he could influence her decisions so easily. “I’m tempted to refuse your request if only to see what you’d do.”

  “Just as I thought.” Jack knelt by a wide creek, complete with a gaping hole in the ice. “Trust them to find one of the most dangerous places to be this morning.”

  Making a mental note to return to the idea of refusing the adoption, Alice took the bait and asked, “Dangerous? The water seems to be shallow enough. They couldn’t drown.”

  He straightened, slowly and favoring one knee. “No, but it deepens and thins on the other side. I’d bet neither would get a good dunking, but enough to give them the flu or chills.”

  Alice turned toward the house, unable to see it through the trees. “I reckon the walk back would do them no good if they were iced over.” She refocused on him as he put more of his weight gingerly on one leg. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine and getting better every day.” He looked up at her with a grin. “Lady, Ellie’s horse, nudged me forward on the way to the feed trough last month, and I took a hard tumble. I forget about my knee until the morning turns especially cold.”

  She leaned forward to get a better look at his knee. One of the sisters gave lessons in first aid and Alice wanted to help. She put an arm around him, ready to support his weight if necessary. “Are you in pain? Do you need to lean against me on the way back?”

  “I’m good. It just doesn’t want to move when I want to go.” He grinned, looking from her shoulder against his to her eyes. “It’s doing better every day, I promise. Let me show you the barn.”

  Embarrassed, Alice let go of him. “Mm-hm.” She kept up with him on their trek back to the house. The trail narrowed as before, and she let him lead a couple of times. As they neared the house, she asked, “You have a well and a creek. Does either ever run dry?”

  “Not since we’ve—I’ve—been here,” he replied as they veered off toward the barn. “The creek threatens to in late August, but there’s always enough to wash laundry.”

  She nodded, impressed by the red barn, large now that she was closer. “I’ve read about barn raising in books. Did your neighbors help?”

  “They did, and I return the favor as often as I can.” He pulled open the large door. “Which is every time they ask. I’m lucky I have my health.”

  Her daydreams of Jack helping build something in the summer and probably without a shirt left her a little breathless. She frowned at the reaction and tried to refocus on staying impartial. He was still a married man and every base thought about him was a sin. Only, Alice began to argue in her mind as she walked into the wooden building, his wife was gone, and he didn’t seem to think she’d return.

  “It’s not the biggest barn in the county but does the job for now.” He closed the door behind them and continued in to meet up with her. “I do have plans for a few additions to this building and the house.”

  “It’s rather dark in here,” she said. Barely any sunlight streamed in from between the boards.

  “I have plans to cut a window next spring.” He went over to where a pane of glass rested against the wall. “Everything and everyone is ready for better weather.”

  The air was somewhat warmer than outside, enough for her to smell the straw, oats, and horse. She continued to where Shep was in his stall, an empty space beside him where Ellie’s horse should have been. “I’ve read reports by agents on the types of homes we send children to and have even seen a few for myself.” She turned to him in the dim rays shining in from the half-open door. “None of them have been as lovely as yours. Bigger, smaller, more and less developed, but your farm is one fit for a gallery painting.”

  “I’m pleased you think so, Miss Wedgwood.” He walked to the horse and began scratching the animal’s nose. “I didn’t know agents went into detail on anything.”

  Something seemed off in his statement. Not from him, but from the process the local agents used. “Yours should have let you read his report before sending it to us. Let you check for inaccuracies or to rebut opinions.”

  “He, um,” Jack said before clearing his throat. “Well, you’ll meet Mr. Donovan for yourself when we go into town later today.”

  “Good. We can compare notes on what you can provide and if you’re able to parent the Hays children alone.” She paused. “If your wife returns, I don’t suppose you’ll have any problems being a father after all.”

  “I don’t expect so.” Jack pulled off his gloves, shoving them into a pocket. “How about we go back to the house? The others are probably wondering where we are and why we’re letting breakfast get cold.”

  Alice laughed at the idea of them sitting around, merely watching the food until she and Jack returned. “Or worse, eating everything yet again so nothing is wasted.”

  He paused before closing the barn door. “Dang, hadn’t thought of that. We’d better go in and salvage what we can.”

  She followed, a little surprised when first one, then another icy pellet hit her head. Just as she opened her mouth to ask if he’d felt it, too, a tinkling sound of sleet rained down on them.

  “Uh-oh,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We’d better hurry.”

  Alice instinctively held on to him, his cool touch offset by his strength. She kept up as he jogged with her to the back door of his home. “Goodness,” she said once inside. “Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome, and Charlotte, did you manage to save us any of this second batch of breakfast?”

  “Yes, Mr. Dryden.” She returned his grin and stepped back from the stove as he approached. “I’ve been keeping the eggs warm and the boys away.”

  She peered into the bedrooms’ open doorways. “They’re outside in this mess?”

  The back door burst open before anyone could reply and both boys rushed in. Conner began, “We were getting pebbles to play with.”

  “And then it started raining down on us,” his brother finished.

  “Pebbles,” Jack asked.

  “For marbles. We had to leave ours behind.”

  When Jack frowned at her, Alice squirmed at his disapproval. “They weren’t the boys’ marbles, but everyone’s. Community property teaches them sharing.”

  His face not softening, he nodded. “I see. Good thing I’m prepared.” He turned to the children. “The bottom drawer in the girls’ bedroom is for you all. Actually, the whole dresser is for your use, Charlotte’s, too.”

  All three looked to Alice first before she smiled. “Go and see what he has for you.” They hurried off and she went to where Jack stood by the stove. “Since we’re here until the storm lets up, why don’t we eat and talk about how your home visits with the agent went? I have a
feeling I need to know more.”

  “Um, sure.” He handed her a plate from the shelf. “Only, I don’t suppose you’re going to like everything you hear.”

  Alice dished up her breakfast. “I imagine I won’t, judging by what you’ve said so far.” She sat in the chair he pulled out for her and waited to eat until he settled in, too. He didn’t look at her as he dug into his food. Their coffee now cold, she stood, the chair scraping on the wooden floor. Jack glanced up, readying to stand as well. “No, I’ll refresh our drinks.” She did so, adding, “I seem to remember Mr. Donovan saying you and your wife had a perfect home for children and a healthy, wholesome atmosphere.” Alice sat, waiting until he’d swallowed before asking him, “Did he happen to know this firsthand, or at only your say-so?”

  “A little bit of both.” Jack put his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers. “Harry and I go way back. He’s been out here for dinner a couple of times.”

  “Hm.” Dinner with him and his missus. Alice took a drink of coffee, but the bitter taste was in her mind, not on her tongue. She asked, “But nothing within the past year or so?”

  “We’ve been busy.”

  “I see.” She cut into the second egg. The food was perfect. Alice glanced at him while she chewed. He also ate, his expression distant. She supposed a marriage unraveling kept a couple too busy to have guests. “Had he ever met Mrs. Dryden?”

  “Sure. Several times.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “She went to town with me nearly every trip.”

  She didn’t want to ask, especially since the answer might keep him from being allowed to adopt, but needed to know for sure. “He’s aware Mrs. Dryden has returned home?”

  Jack glanced at the bedroom door before responding. “No. No one except us knows what happened.” He stared down at his plate. “It’s not something a man brags about.”

  Her heart ached for him and she couldn’t imagine the lonely days he’d spent between her leaving and their arriving. Alice resisted taking his hand in hers, settling for replying, “I expect not. “

  Pausing for a moment, he said, “I should have known she’d leave long before she did. Now that I know what happened, the signs were all there.”

  “Oh?”

  “Keeping most of her clothes in her trunk. Packing things away for just in case. Journaling. Lots and lots of journaling.” He shook his head. “After all the times we argued, she’d threaten to go back home.” Jack stared at his callused hands. “People say things they don’t mean when they’re angry. At least, I do. I thought she was the same way.”

  She clasped her hands in her lap. If Jack were any one of the children she’d helped care for back home, Alice would hug him and say everything would work out fine. The idea of holding him in such a way left her embarrassed. Clearing her throat to dispel the sudden longing for him, she smiled. “Things happen for a reason. Have you sent Mrs. Dryden a letter or telegraph, asking her to come home?”

  “Telegraph, yes.” He stood, taking their plates and cutlery. “Ellie has been very clear. She’s not coming back.”

  Alice stared at him. He didn’t look at her. Dumbfounded over how he’d not told her upfront about asking his wife to return home, she numbly asked, “Are you sure she said those exact words?”

  Chapter Eight

  Jack didn’t answer her for a moment, staring out at the weather with a squint. Alice wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I suppose I’m being too forward, and I’m sorry.” She picked up their empty dishes, adding them to the pail. “Your thoughts are none of my business.”

  “All I know is what she replied.” He turned to face her and stopped, his gaze settling beyond where she stood. “She’s done with everything out here, doesn’t want any of us…”

  When he trailed off, she followed where he stared and saw the children in the doorway. Each child’s expression full of disappointment broke her heart. Charlotte stared down at the rag doll in her hands while Conner wound and unwound a yo-yo’s string. Carter crossed his arms and scowled. She couldn’t bear it if they started crying. Alice smiled. “That’s too bad, because you are all the best family. We’ll merely determine a solution that’s best for everyone without her.”

  Alice regretted not turning on her heel and getting back on the train the instant she didn’t see Mr. Dryden waiting for them. She should have known they were all rolling toward an emotional tar pit in going home with him. Now, everyone was counting on the adoption, including her. “Now, then, no more negativity. If the storm lets up this afternoon, we might go into town and talk with Mr.…?” She looked to Jack for the agent’s name.

  “Donovan.”

  She nodded, now remembering. “Donovan, and get everything sorted out.”

  “Won’t you let us stay,” Charlotte asked while coming over and leaning on Alice. “Mr. Dryden is alone, and we don’t need a mother.”

  Carter stepped forward. “She’s right. You know we’ll do fine without one. We can all stay and help Pa on our farm.”

  Jack strode over and scooped up the boy as if he were a five-pound sack of flour. “First of all, if I’m going to be your pa, you have to know there’s no sassing a lady like Miss Alice allowed. Drydens have manners.” He smiled at the other two children. “And since she does need convincing, all of us must be on our best behavior so she’ll let you three stay on as my family.”

  He let Conner slide to the floor and took the dish bucket from Alice. “Grab your coats and we’ll do some chores, so she’ll see how well we work together. We won’t give her a chance to say no.”

  Faster than she’d ever been able to motivate them, the children ran back into the bedroom. The toys thudded on the wood floor and the three rushed to the coat rack. Carter finished first, grabbed the bucket from Jack, and yelled, “I win!” as he ran out of the door.

  “Be careful!” Alice hollered after them as they disappeared. She went to the door for herself and peered out. Carter must have handed off the dishes because Charlotte carried them while both boys ran and skidded along the frozen ground. The sleet had left a hard, grainy film on grass and dirt alike. She shivered and closed the door. They’d all be frozen by the time they returned.

  She fastened the latch and went to the stove. Alice only found embers when peeking inside, so she piled fresh wood on the fire. In the daylight, she noticed a layer of dust not visible in the twilight or even early morning sun. She grabbed one of the boy’s unused napkins and began dusting shelves and windowsills. The windows themselves could use cleaning, but she didn’t know for sure where Jack kept the vinegar or if he even had any. “Surely he does,” she muttered while dusting breakfast crumbs from the table into her hand.

  Alice went into Charlotte’s and her bedroom. The toys strewn everywhere didn’t surprise her. She smiled and put the marbles left on the bed back into their cloth pouch. Charlotte’s doll went back into the drawer with the yo-yo and carved wooden horse. She traced her fingertips along the animal’s back, wondering if Jack had made or bought the toy. Placing it in the bottom dresser, she closed the drawer before dusting the top.

  The bed rails were as smooth as the dresser’s surface, and didn’t snag the napkin. She wiped the front windowsill first. At the back window, she watched as the children went into the distant chicken coop and heard Jack’s heavier feet when he stomped onto the back porch. She wiped down the sill in a hurry before entering the main room as he did. His face ruddy from the cold, Alice smiled at him and said, “That didn’t take long.”

  “Not with the four of us working.” He held out the pail full of water and dishes. “Trade me this for the water bucket? I’ll stay here to keep from tracking in the ice.”

  “Certainly.” Alice reached out for the handle, her bare hand brushing his chilled fingertips. “Oh,” she murmured before setting down the dishes, “you’re freezing.” She took his hand in both of hers. “Did you forget your gloves?”

  “I didn’t want to get them wet.”

  “You don’t wash dishes outs
ide, do you?” she asked while rubbing some feeling back into his frozen skin. “I’ve added fuel to the stove, so we can heat the water and wash them properly.” She let go of him and beckoned for his other hand. “Maybe you should wear your gloves on this next trip and tell the children to put on theirs as well.” She rubbed his skin as she would her own after a time in the bitter chill. “Goodness, did you wash your hands outside, too?”

  “Not intentionally.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to tell the boys when they’re older about how to get a pretty girl to hold their hand.”

  Alice gasped and let go of him, her face hot in the already-warm room. “Oh! Well, you were cold and I, um… never mind.” She clasped her finders in front of her, uncertain how to gracefully apologize. “I should have treated you like the adult you are and I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be.” Jack put on his gloves and went for the water bucket. “I didn’t know how numb I was until you warmed me up just now.”

  She nodded, the heat in her cheeks still burning. “I’m glad.” Alice picked up the dish bucket. “I’ll take care of these.” She turned to the stove and set the pail on top to heat. His steps sounded across the common room and away from her.

  When the door shut, she peeked behind her and her shoulders slumped. What had she been thinking, caressing the man’s hands as she had? Alice shook her head. She hadn’t been thinking at all, just concerned at how pale his fingertips were. Anyone would have done the same. She scooped up the dust cloth and went to the last room, Jack’s bedroom, to clean.

  Alice paused at the doorway. The bed was made but barely, and even from where she stood, an obvious layer of dust covered the flat surfaces. She bit her lip. Accidental hand-holding was one thing but invading someone’s privacy was another. A bedroom in a public place like a hotel or the orphanage was easy. She knew the rules for those situations. Walking into the sleeping area of a man in his own home seemed far too intimate for an adoption agent to enter. The back door opening again startled her and she dropped the cloth with a little yelp.