by Lucy Evanson
The driver set the brake and jumped down from the box, heading to the back to help the conductor unload the bags. The curtains had been drawn against the bright morning sun, so it was impossible to say how many passengers were aboard, and as luck would have it, the conductor opened the door on the far side of the coach. His view blocked by the carriage itself, Bill could only see feet as the passengers stood there waiting for their luggage. It was impossible to say whose feet they were, of course, but he was willing to bet that the laced boots peeking out from beneath the blue dress belonged to Maddie. After a couple of minutes, the driver and conductor climbed back up to the seat, the driver snapped the reins, and the coach rolled forward, leaving a light cloud of dust behind.
There were three people standing there: a rotund man, dressed in an ill-fitting suit; a little girl, perhaps three years old and presumably the man’s daughter; and Maddie. Having looked at her photo so many times, Bill recognized her instantly, but it was one thing to see her in black-and-white and quite another to see her in the flesh.
She was like a dream made real. Bill realized then that her tintype—the photo that he’d seen so many times, the photo that he could have sketched from memory, he knew it so well—was a poor substitute for the real thing. It was like a leaf pressed between the pages of a book, allowing you to see the general idea, but falling far short of its colorful, vibrant cousin still attached to the tree. Bill had dreamed of taking her petite form into his arms, of trailing his fingers across that flawless skin, of feeling those full lips against his own. Seeing her so close—and now knowing that she was out of reach—was like a burning coal in his belly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Without thinking, he raised his hand and waved to her; Maddie tilted her head to the side and smiled at him oddly, as if she weren’t sure whether to respond or not. As it turned out, she didn’t have the chance. From down the street, there was a raucous cheer as Eastman and his crowd spilled out of the saloon and headed directly for the town hall.
Chapter 3
Maddie had often wondered, on the long trip out to Nebraska, how Lawrence would arrive to meet her. It had been a nice way to distract herself, first from the ceaseless clatter of the train, then from the jolts of the carriage rides that had taken them to the end of their journey. She could have imagined him there with a small number of relatives, all waiting and eager to take her and Tess into their family, where their worries would die away. Or she pictured him alone there at the station, flowers in hand and ready to receive her on bended knee. One thing she hadn’t imagined was that he’d greet her by leading a parade of unsteady drunks down the street, but as she watched the crowd approach her, it appeared that that was the avenue he’d chosen.
“What the hell’s all this?” Mr. Lewis muttered as he eyed the men heading towards them. Lewis had ridden with them since yesterday afternoon and seemed like a prudent, level-headed man—certainly one who wasn’t going to let himself be surrounded by this flood of rough-looking characters. Without another word, he grabbed his bag and made for the other side of the street, giving Eastman and his gang a wide berth as he walked away.
Maddie could feel Tess holding tight onto her leg, and she stepped slightly to the right to shield her daughter from the crowd.
“Madeline Harrison. Or, should I say, Madeline Eastman.”
“Not quite yet,” Maddie said. “But soon enough. You’re Lawrence, I’m assuming?” She hadn’t received a picture from him, but from his description, this seemed to be her fiancé. He had the thick, wavy black hair that she had read about, the piercing green eyes, the six-foot frame in a finely cut suit. He was quite a man to look at. If it hadn’t been for the seven or eight men who had settled in around them, she might have appreciated it even more.
“Mustache.”
Eastman’s brow furrowed as he craned his neck to the left, catching a glimpse of Tess before she ducked behind Maddie again. “Looks like you’ve got a little hanger-on there,” he said, stepping closer and extending his hand. “It’s good to finally see you here, Madeline.”
His grip was warm and pleasant, and when he smiled she noticed that he had the cutest dimples. They brought out her smile as well. “It’s good to be here,” she said. “And please, call me Maddie.”
“Mustache,” Tess repeated, poking her face out again.
“Yes, he does have a mustache, doesn’t he?” Maddie said.
The dimples disappeared as Eastman frowned. “I do apologize about this, Madeline,” he said. “There are a lot of urchins around, always begging in the streets and causing trouble.”
“I should explain—”
“Just one second,” Eastman said, stepping to the side and staring at Tess. “What are you doing here? Go on, now, scat!” he snapped, and Tess again hid her face in Maddie’s dress. “I know you must be exhausted after such a long trip,” he continued, his voice again softer. “How about we go get hitched, then we can get you home and into bed. I might even join you there.”
The men around him burst into laughter. One man at Eastman’s side, who was wearing a hat that looked like it had been sat on one too many times, threw his head back and crowed like a rooster at the joke. Maddie felt her face turn red. Oh, terrific, she thought. She was wearing her one good dress—the blue one—and her one good hat—the white one—which meant that she was most likely putting on a fine display. Now that I’m blushing, I probably match the flag now. How patriotic. “Lawrence, that’s not the kind of language I expect to hear from my fiancé,” she murmured. “Especially not in public.”
“Come on, I was just funning with you,” he said. “Just a little joke to break the ice.”
“It’s not appropriate in front of them, nor in front of my daughter.”
The commotion in the crowd died fast, only to be replaced by a lot of widened eyes and whispering.
The dimples faded from his face. “Your what?”
“My daughter.” Maddie reached behind and took Tess by the wrist, leading her out from behind. “This is Tess.”
For a long moment Eastman didn’t move, and only his rapid blinking gave away that he hadn’t become entirely frozen. The man in the squashed hat let out a whistle. “I told you there was something wrong with this girl,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Eastman’s eyes flashed wide in anger, and he whirled to face the other man. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but after a moment he must have realized that he had no reply. Instead, he stepped close and took Maddie by the upper arm, pulling her away from the crowd and into the shadow of the town hall. His grip was strong and painful.
“Just what kind of game are you trying to play with me?”
“I’m not playing any game,” she said. “I just—”
“You think you can show up here with a kid and I’ll take you in just like that? What kind of fool do you take me for?”
“Lawrence, let me explain,” she said. “I never said that I didn’t have Tess. I just never mentioned her.”
“I never would have proposed if I knew you had a child already! I never said I even wanted kids!”
“That’s not true,” Maddie protested. “You wrote that you wanted a family.”
“Well, maybe, but not right away—and sure as hell not with another man’s child!”
Maddie took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly, trying to gather her strength. This could all still work, she thought. I just need him to understand that I’m the same woman he came to know from my letters. The same woman he proposed to. I can do this.
She reached for him and clasped his hand. “Lawrence, I never lied to you. I never would have thought of doing such a thing. I just didn’t tell you everything because I wanted to explain things in person,” she said. “I knew that if I had the chance to talk to you face to face, I could make you understand why I did the things I did.”
His eyes narrowed further. “Why was that?”
“I can’t tell you how hard things have been for us th
ese last few years,” she said. “When I got your letters, I felt like I was some kind of prizewinner. I saw the chance for us to live a better life with a man who was so smart, so successful…I saw a chance to finally not have to fight to make it through each day, you know?”
Her gaze seemed to be too strong for him at that moment, for Eastman glanced away and studied the dirt as he kicked a pebble away. “Like I said, I was honest in everything I said to you,” Maddie continued. “Things are more complicated than they may have seemed at first, but that’s life, isn’t it? Life is pretty complicated sometimes too. So I guess…well, if you don’t want to marry me now, that’s a decision you’ll have to make on your own.”
The anger seemed to have finally drained from his face, and his eyes softened as he reached out and stroked her cheek. “You are a beautiful woman, I have to admit. Even more so than your picture,” he said quietly, and he let his gaze drop down, taking her in. The corners of his mouth pulled back as a slight smile appeared, and Maddie felt her pulse quicken. Well, a smile like that has to be a good sign, she thought.
Just as quickly as it had formed, however, his grin died away. “You’re beautiful,” he repeated. “But I won’t have you as my wife. You’re used goods.” Then he turned abruptly and strode away, not looking back even once. As he walked, he pulled her tintype out of his pocket and dropped it in the dirt.
Maddie reached for the wall to steady herself against the rough brick. His words had hit her like a hand across her cheek, and she felt nearly dizzy as she watched him go. The crowd of men parted for Eastman as he passed through, and although most of them seemed to have had their fill of a girl’s public humiliation, the man with the squashed hat called out to Maddie.
“I’m not gonna marry you neither, sweetheart, but you want to make believe? Should only take about fifteen minutes.”
“He’s pulling your leg, honey; it won’t take more than two minutes,” called another.
“Shut yer trap, Rogers!”
Some of the other men called out to her as well before the crowd dispersed entirely, but barely noticed. She hadn’t been paying attention and wouldn’t have wanted to hear what they said anyway.
“Mustache gone.”
She looked down at Tess, who smiled at her as if nothing had happened.
“Yes, honey,” she murmured. “The mustache man is gone.” And now we’re alone in Nebraska with nothing but an empty purse and some dust-covered traveling bags. Heck of a plan you came up with, Maddie.
Her daughter’s face began to blur as tears filled her eyes. So silly. Maddie hated crying; she had never had the time for such foolishness, but sometimes even she reached her limits. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes while a single thought swelled in her mind: whatever are we going to do now?
~
It had been a painful spectacle to watch, but Bill had been unable to take his eyes off Maddie while she’d been talking with Eastman. From across the road, pretending to inspect a wagon wheel, he hadn’t been able to catch everything that they had said. Nevertheless, the gist of it was clear enough: Maddie had a child, and that had soured the deal between her and Eastman.
The drunks had toddled away in Eastman’s wake, leaving Maddie and the girl all alone—well, as alone as they could be in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Maddie was obviously crying. She was trying to hold it in, but her shoulders shook with every sob, even if he couldn’t hear her cries. The girl—Tess, if he had heard correctly—was hugging Maddie’s leg with a grin, apparently unaware that they were now alone in a strange city, far from everything that they knew and without any visible means of support.
Hell of a way to start the day, Bill thought, and he glanced down the street, back towards the saloon. Eastman was long gone. Guess it’s not surprising. If I had to pick a man who’d bring a girl all the way out here and then leave her high and dry—and with a kid to boot—Eastman would be at the top of my list.
He looked back toward the town hall. Tess was still smiling. She was a cute girl, with a grin that filled her face and made her eyes scrunch up, and when she laid her face against her mother’s leg, it looked like there was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be. Bill couldn’t help but smile along with her. She hasn’t got a worry in the world, he thought. Yet.
She’d have more than enough worries soon enough. Winter wasn’t too far off, and with a mother who had apparently just lost their sole protector, even the happiest little girl would soon find plenty to cry about. Yep, they’re going to have a hard road ahead. He turned his gaze down and studied the scuff marks on his boots. Watching Maddie cry like that made him feel like he was spying on her, seeing something that she’d most likely prefer to keep private. Can’t blame her for being broken up, of course. A woman pulls up stakes, comes all the way out here and then finds out things aren’t going to work out like she planned? Gotta be real hard.
He’d never seen a mail-order bride in this situation, but he’d seen plenty of others in similar circumstances during his years in Nebraska. The Territory still attracted a lot of people who were looking for some kind of wilderness that they lacked in their lives. Some did well. Some did not. The lucky ones had family, or money, or both, to help them out. The ones who had none of that—like Maddie, he was guessing—turned out to be not so lucky.
More than once he’d heard about a woman who had come out to Nebraska with her family, and following her husband’s illness, or injury, or some other misfortune, the woman ended up working as one of Madame Leary’s girls. Bill shivered to think of the same thing happening to Maddie. The frontier was a hell of a place to be with neither kin nor cash.
Now that they don’t have anybody here for them, they haven’t got many choices, he thought. The way he figured it, they could either go back to New Hampshire or stay here, but neither one was going to be easy. He could already imagine them taking the long trip back home, returning to the place she’d hoped to escape, knowing that she had lost her chance for something better in her life. Tess would probably forget that she’d even been out here, but Maddie would remember, and that was the kind of memory that could eat away at a person’s spirit until they were full of nothing but spite and bitterness toward the world. He’d hate to see that happen to her. But the other option, staying here in Lancaster, would be just as hard, if not harder. He was at a loss, in fact, to think of how somebody could put down roots in a case like hers. Probably has no money. No job. No place to stay. Nobody here for them. Unless…unless they do have somebody here for them.
The thought jumped into his mind so quickly that he was already on his way across the street before he knew it. Tess watched him approach and stepped behind Maddie’s legs.
“No mustache,” she said.
Maddie glanced up, and Bill felt his heart flip inside his chest. She was surely not at her best; the powder on her cheeks was streaked, and her eyes were red and puffy, but he didn’t truly see any of that. Even after everything Eastman had said, she stood up tall and raised her chin, looking straight at him as if her public humiliation hadn’t affected her in the slightest. All he could see at that moment was a beauty that no tears could ever wash away, and a fire in her eyes that no tears could ever quench.
“Good morning, Maddie.”
She snorted. “Morning, maybe, but not so good.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s right,” he said. “Sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing what happened.”
“You and about half the town.”
“I guess that’s right too.” He cocked his head to the side and met eyes with Tess. “Hi there, honey,” he said, waving to her. Tess squealed and buried her face in Maddie’s dress again.
Maddie blotted her eyes quickly and cleared her throat. “Can I help you with something, mister?”
“Actually, I was wondering whether I could help you with something, Maddie.”
“No, thank you.” She turned and picked up her traveling bags, one in each hand. “We need to g
et going. And how do you know my name, by the way?”
“I’m Bill. Bill Parker.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Your name sounds familiar for some reason.”
“We, uh…we wrote to each other a little bit before you came out here.”
Maddie’s brow furrowed slightly. “Bill Parker,” she murmured, then her eyes went wide. “Bill Parker!”
“It’s good to see you in person,” he said. Whether she felt the same way was hard to say, given that her cheeks had quickly picked up a tinge of pink. Bill bent down and picked up the tintype from where Eastman had left it lying in the dirt, then brushed it off. “You’re even more beautiful in person than you are in your picture.”
Her cheeks glowed even brighter. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “That’s nice of you to say. I know it’s not true,” she added, blowing a wisp of hair out of her eyes, “but it’s nice to hear.” She let the bags drop to the ground. “Well, I suppose you know that we don’t have anywhere to go. No reason to pretend that we do.”
“Nope, not that I can think of.”
“Look, I should apologize for not letting you know about…well, you know.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You obviously had a lot to think about, a lot to plan.”
Her laugh was sharp and bitter. “Yeah, that plan worked out real well, didn’t it? I figured that a man who really wanted to marry me would understand about Tess. Guess I figured wrong.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“There’s no maybe about it. You saw how it turned out. I’d say there wasn’t much room for argument.”
Bill shrugged. “If you say so. But anyway, I was thinking that I could help you out.”
“‘As a matter of fact, you can. If you could point me in the direction of a rooming house, that would help a lot. Someplace not too expensive.”
“Well, there’s Paula Grady’s place down at the other end of the street,” he said. “It’s not cheap, but it’s the only one we have.”
