Her eyes danced. “I’m so happy. I’m in seventh heaven.”
“Congratulations! Where’s Jack? I want to congratulate him.”
“He’s talking to Pa.”
“I don’t think he’s going to be happy.” But Hugh was relieved. He did not have to confront Archie after all. What he needed to do was straighten everything out with Winifred. Maybell took it from him. “I’ve got to see Winifred.”
“Winifred?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, I love her. She left the square dance without me being able to explain things.”
“You love Winifred?”
“Uh-huh. I do. I have ever since the moment I bumped into her on the train.”
Maybell giggled. “You bumped into her?”
“That’s right. It’s a long story. Right now, though, I’ve got to hurry over to her place. But before I do that, I need to change into decent clothes.”
“I guess, but you will tell me more about how you bumped into her, won’t you?” The corner of her lips drew up into a broad smile.
“I will.” He raced to the bunkhouse, poured the liquid into the basin and washed his face and upper body. Grasping a nearby cloth, he dried himself before putting on his suit.
Mounting his horse, Hugh slapped the reins, and the steed moved forward. He gulped several times, hoping he was not too late. He would be building a house this spring. And it better include a thin woman with strawberry-blond hair.
Finally, the town came into view. He traveled through it and rode by the stream where he had pressed his mouth on Winifred’s sweet, rosy lips. His heartbeat quickened. Within minutes, he pulled into Boyers’ homestead. The roaming geese greeted him with a chorus of honking. He stopped the horse at the hitching post, dismounted, and wrapped the reins around it.
He bounded up the porch steps and knocked. As he waited for someone to answer, he swayed back and forth and back and forth. His head throbbed. Several minutes later, Mr. Crowley swung open the door.
Face pale, the butler said, “Come on in. I suppose you’re here to see Miss Winifred. I’ll tell Opal you’re here.”
His brow furrowed. Tell Opal? Why was he getting her? He scanned the familiar entryway with its grandfather clock and the coat and hat stands. His heartbeat pummeled in his ears.
A baby’s cry echoed from the Boyers’ upstairs bedroom. Alex’s voice drifted down the stairs. “We’ll go see him together.”
What? A series of sharp pains pierced Hugh’s stomach. Something was wrong. Badly wrong. Alex and Opal approached. She carried the baby in her arms. Opal’s eyes misty, she stood there a second before she spoke.
“We’re the bearer of bad news. Winifred left for Charles City this morning. I’m sorry.” She glanced at her husband. “I know there had to be some sort of misunderstanding –”
Alex interjected, “But Winifred wouldn’t listen. Her mind was made up.”
Hugh’s body trembled. He stared at them, mouth open and unable to speak. His brain attempted to process the information. “She’s not here?”
“No, Hugh,” replied Alex.
“I wanted to tell her Maybell and Jack got married last night. I’m too late.”
“This is awful. Just awful.” Opal shrieked, her face turning gray. The baby cried. Opal rocked her daughter to calm her.
Hugh nodded. His heart tore in two. How would he cope with this heartache? He just could not imagine life without her. He had to do something but what?
***
Hugh pulled inside the barn and jumped down from his horse. Archie approached.
“Hand me those reins, and I’ll lead the horse into the stable.”
“You sure?” Hugh asked.
Archie nodded. “Maybell is making supper. You go on and eat, and I’ll feed the animals.” He studied his attire. “You’re all dressed up in that suit and all. There’s no use you getting dirty.” Glancing down at his dirty overalls, Archie laughed and continued, “I’m already dirty, so go before I change my mind. Tell Maybell I’ll be in shortly.”
Hugh was glad his boss wanted to feed the horses because he was anxious to tell his brother what happened. As he entered the dining room, Maybell was setting the table. She looked over at him.
“Hugh, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
His brother stepped into the room, carrying in mashed potatoes and coleslaw. He placed them on the table. “You do. What happened?”
“She’s gone,” Hugh muttered, his voice breaking.
“Gone?” Jack pressed.
“Where?” chimed in Maybell.
“Back to Virginia,” Hugh said, forcing the words out. “She left this morning.”
“So soon?” Maybell shook her head as she placed a cup beside a dinner plate.
Hugh nodded.
“Oh no! Hugh, that’s awful,” she replied.
“I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry,” Jack added in a low voice.
“I know.” Hugh plopped down in a dining-room chair, his mind still numb from the news. Silence filled the room until Maybell cleared her throat.
“Maybe you could write her a letter. I’m sure my friend, Ada, could get the address from Opal. They visit from time to time.”
His mouth quivered. “I could, but will she even open it, knowing it’s from me?”
With a sigh, she left then brought in a platter of fried chicken. The smell of it floated through the room.
“Archie should be here in a minute. He wanted to feed the horses before coming in.”
“That’s fine. It’ll stay hot for a while.” She turned her gaze to her husband. “Do you have any ideas?”
Jack gave Hugh a sheepish smile. “Maybe. What if I send her a letter to explain everything? She might believe me.”
“I don’t know if she’ll ever want to see me again, and quite frankly, I can’t blame her.” Hugh swallowed the lump in his throat. “I hid the deal with Archie from her. She’s got a right to be furious.”
Jack smiled. “You won’t know if you don’t try. If she loves you, like I think she does, I bet she’ll return once she knows the full story.”
Maybell’s eyes sparkled. “I bet so, too. I know I would if you wrote a letter on Jack’s behalf.”
“Right. And I could buy her a train ticket to go along with the letter,” Jack interjected.
“You’d do that for me?” Hugh said in surprise.
“Of course, I would. You’ve been there for me my entire life, stepping in and doing things for me when I needed you. It’s about time I did something for you.”
Maybell folded her arms and gazed lovingly at her husband. “We can buy the ticket and send it off with the letter when we’re in town Monday.”
“It’s a glimmer of a chance, but what do I have to lose?” Hugh asked.
“Good. Then it’s settled,” Jack replied. He patted his brother on his back and went into the kitchen to bring in the apple dumplings. Maybell finished setting the table.
Hugh was dumbfounded with gratitude at their efforts. His brow furrowed, but how did Jack get that kind of money? Then he remembered his brother telling him about selling his grandfather’s gold watch and his mother’s ring so they could pay off Archie’s debt. However, Archie refused to accept it.
Archie entered the room. Maybell strode to her father, took his coat from him, then stepped into the parlor to hang it. She returned and faced her pa. “I made your favorite tonight, Pa. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes.” She smiled.
“It smells great,” Archie said then gave his daughter a gentle hug. The two whispered some words before he went to his seat.
Hugh smiled. Thank God! They have repaired their differences. At least, one problem was resolved.
Archie took a seat at the head of the table. He cleared his throat. “I’ll say grace.” All bowed their heads. “Bless this food and bless my daughter and my new son-in-law. May their love be strong and lasting as was mine and Kitty’s.”
Archie grasped the plate of c
hicken and passed it to his left. Hugh stared at the fried bird. But instead of wanting to devour it as he normally would, his stomach repudiated it. Not wishing to offend his sister-in-law, he took a bite and forced it down his throat. With lots of effort, he swallowed bits of the chicken and potatoes.
Wanting rest and a chance to be alone, he excused himself from the table. While he stepped to the bunkhouse, he thought about Winifred. Could she forgive him? He did not know, but one thing he did know was how much he appreciated his brother’s gesture. It meant a lot.
***
Winifred sat in her seat after days of travel. Next to her sat a loathsome character with uncombed hair. His foul body odor filled the air. She shifted her head to the train window to give her nostrils a break.
The barren prairie land gave way to a few clusters of trees as the train chugged closer to her homeland. If things were different, she would be anxious to see Virginia’s dogwood trees but things were not. She sniffled into her lace handkerchief, wishing she had brought a more substantial cloth. These dainty handkerchiefs could not hold all the tears she shed.
She wondered how Hugh was doing. Oh, why do I care? However, she knew why. She still loved him even after he had betrayed her affections. Bitterness entered her being, wishing him a wretched life. She swallowed hard. How awful of her to think that way.
Shaking her head in disgust, she grasped the little black Bible on her lap and flipped its gold-edged pages to Ephesians 4:31-32. “Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” Yes, Lord, please forgive me for these thoughts. Instead, I must thank You for exposing this man’s falsehoods. She shrugged. Nothing is more damaging than a person you can’t trust.
She turned her gaze to the rows in front of her. That little boy, with hair parted in the middle, stood beside his mother and faced those behind him. He peeped over at her and smiled. She returned his smile. At least, there were some pleasantries on this trip. In Lincoln, she did not see a lot of that hairstyle, but in Virginia, it had been quite popular.
Her thoughts went to Hugh and her first encounter with him on the train – his bumping into her. She hadn’t liked him from the start and perhaps her first reaction was the right one. Her family would meet her. It would be good to see Papa and her brothers, but she cringed at meeting up with her beau. Opal was right about him being self-centered. Duty, though, called, and she must honor her father’s commitment.
Chapter Seventeen
Three Weeks Later
Hugh’s hands trembled as he snapped the reins to urge the horses forward. He adjusted his frame onto the buckboard plank, although nothing would provide him comfort until he knew Winifred had returned. Jack had sent the train ticket, but he had not heard back from her. His brother and Maybell offered to come with him to the depot. However, he wanted to meet her by himself. After all, there was little guarantee she would return but hope, as they say, springs eternal.
Flapping the straps, he prompted the animals into a gallop. He was not in a hurry but wanted to get there early. He could not take the chance of missing her. What would she do if he did not show up? He gulped … go back to Virginia, of course.
No rows of hay lay in the fields like the last time since all were stacked in barns to store for winter. Inhaling the nippy air, he guided the draft horses down the straightaway, which led toward the train station, located near that enchanting lake by the Boyers. He smiled, spurring his mind into a trance-like state as he remembered her soft body pressed against his. The horses jerked. Hugh stared at the curve in front of them. He steered the animals, but it was too late. The wagon swayed, wobbled, tilted to lean on its right side.
Heart in his throat, he worried about the damage. How long would it take to fix this or could it be repaired? What if I get there late or I don’t make it at all? She would think my affections were not sincere. The pit in his abdomen tightened. He gasped. Of course, he did not know if she would arrive, but what would she do if he did not show up? The horses pawed their hoofs into the ground. Against his desires to see what happened, he had to tend to the horses first. After all, he did not want the steeds to bolt or he would be left stranded.
“Easy. Easy,” Hugh said in a low voice. He got down and stood beside the horses. “Steady,” he muttered as he stroked their white manes.
The steed on the right neighed. He patted his warm back. Several seconds later, the animal quieted. Feeling the steeds were calm enough, Hugh headed for the back of the wagon.
The wheel rested in the soil a couple of feet from the cart. Shaking his head, he reached for it and placed it against the back of the wagon. Checking for breakage, Hugh ran his palm around the rim. He exhaled a deep breath. At least, this was intact. He gripped and ran his fingers over each spoke. He smiled. No breakage there either. That’s good. His gaze returned to the vacant spindle. Where were the bearings and wooden hub? If he could find those, he could continue on his way. He rose to his feet. It could not be far. He strode to his right. Nothing. He stepped to his left. Not here either.
Minutes ticked away. He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. He only had twenty minutes before the train arrived. His heart thundered. It could not have been thrown to the buckboard’s front. It had to be in the rear. Inching his way backwards, he combed the premises. Again nothing. He took another look at his watch. Five minutes passed. Hugh got on his knees. It had to be somewhere around here. He ran his fingers in the dirt. The horses snorted. They were not going to be still much longer. He stood up then took a step forward, his foot hitting something. Leaning over, he picked up the hub and bearings. Thank God. He exhaled a long breath.
He grabbed the wheel and brought it close to the empty spindle. Pressing his body against the wagon, he lifted the cart up slightly and positioned the wheel onto the rod. Once in place, he secured it with the bearings and hub. Satisfied, Hugh jumped up onto the buckboard plank then urged the horses forward. The wheels spun. Sneaking a look at his watch, his gut churned. Now he was down to ten minutes. It would be difficult to make it, and he sure could not overwork the animals after this incident. Hugh winced. He could not lose her. He just couldn’t.
He traveled at a pace as fast as possible. The chilly air circled around him. He rubbed his hands on his woolen suit to keep them warm. Oh Winifred, please return to me. The town came into view. Just a few more minutes, and he would be there. The train whistle blew.
His heart sank.
The train screeched to a stop. Shouts of glee and laughter filled the area. Hugh parked the wagon, tied the steeds to the hitching post and raced toward the depot. Approaching the station, he saw a little boy, who wore a black cap with matching knickers, dart toward a stately woman, dressed in a light-green shirtwaist with ruffled skirt. Twirling the child in the air, she giggled. The child’s father followed and embraced them both. This is what he envisioned for his future. He gulped. That is, if Winifred had returned.
Hugh stared at the deserted baggage cart by the station. Her trunk was not there. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Searching the area, he paced the station’s boardwalk planks. He could not give up hope. Shaking his head, he hurried toward the train cars. He would open each door just to make sure something had not delayed her. He ran along the tracks and opened the door of a passenger car and stepped inside. He stared at the vacant passenger seats. “Winifred. Winifred, are you in here?” Silence.
He scooted to the next car and squeaked open the heavy metal door. Hugh called out for her once more. His stomach twisted into knots. He could not lose her. She had to come back. Continuing the search, he opened car door after car door until he came to the last one. Doom filled his being, but he would not give up. He would not. He gazed into the deserted car. Nothing. Nothing. He shook his head. She did not return. The knowledge hit him like an Indian arrow striking a heart. He gasped. Slowly he t
ook a backward step off the car. His foot hit leather. What now? Dreading to turn around to face the conductor, who would not approve of him meddling with private property, Hugh gulped. He scanned the individual’s countenance from those sweet lips to those lovely freckles. Relieved, he laughed. “Am I bumping into you again?”
Winifred giggled. “Yes, because it’s what you do best.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been searching all over for you.”
“Why, I’ve been looking for you.”
“Your trunk?”
“I paid a man to put it on your wagon.”
“You’re a sly one, Miss Winifred.” He grinned then guided her to a secluded tree-lined area. Standing behind the group of trees, he bent down and caressed those luscious lips. She fit well inside his arms. He kissed her again and again.
“I can’t breathe,” she said.
“I mean to do that to you. I want to continue to take your breath away.” He encircled his arms around hers and brought her closer to him. As he did so, her hat fell to the ground.
“You knocked my hat off,” she jested.
“I don’t care,” he whispered in her ear. He nibbled at her earlobe before releasing her. He reached down and picked up the hat. “Why, that’s the blue one I bought you. I thought you would have gotten rid of it by now.”
“Not on your life. It’s too expensive to throw away.” She winked at him “Besides someone spellbinding gave it to me.”
“Spellbinding? Hey.” He laughed and studied her curls, which flowed around the sides of her face. She cocked her head to him, projecting her aristocratic nose and lighting up her blue eyes. He could not resist so he nuzzled his mouth against her silky hair, moved to kiss the tip of her nose and landed it on her quivering lips. She melted in his arms. His heart thundered. He released her a second.
A cool breeze circled around them. A flock of geese flew overhead and honked. She shook. “Oh no, there they go again.”
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