by Sky Winters
Isabelle expected to hear nothing more and was surprised when a carriage drew up at the farm with a special delivery for Miss Adams. Her father was out working and the children at school and she quickly opened the expensive looking envelope.
It was from the solicitors of a Mr Edward Calhoun. Their client was interested in marrying Miss Adams and the date has been set in his diary for the 25th February- St Valentine’s Day although the solicitor, a Mr. R Streatham pointed out that this was not a romantic consideration, merely a business one. She was to contact Mr. Streatham by return post to confirm the arrangements. All monies necessary for the journey would be authorised. As this was to be treated as a business transaction the solicitors would draw up a contract for her to sign. She would be given an allowance of $100 per month and in return she would be expected to play hostess at the ranch of Mr. Calhoun and to grace his table. There was no talk of love; it was purely a business transaction- without emotion.
A photograph was enclosed in the envelope. It was a full length portrait of Mr Calhoun. He was dressed in a long black coat and wore knee high boots and a large cowboy style hat. He had thick, mutton chop whiskers and stared out at the camera rather severely under thick and bushy eyebrows.
It was not an unpleasant face; she had seen a lot worse but it was not a face that she could genuinely love.
It was such a strange offer of marriage that she had to read it over and over again before she could take it all in. What type of man treated marriage the same as business? Obviously one that was cold and heartless. Isabelle shivered despite the heat from the fire. Could she really marry a man like that?
Still, $100 per month could not be dismissed. She would be a wealthy woman and the girls could have as many new dresses as they could wear. She could pay for repairs to the farm house too, buy some new furniture and fittings and even pay for a farm hand to help her father and hire someone to look after the cooking and cleaning. There was no decision to be made; it was the only way to secure her families future.
It was hard to tell the girls. At first they all cried, except the sensible Rebecca who thought it a sensible idea, but eventually they all came around to Isabelle’s way of thinking; especially when she promised each one an ‘Aladdin’s Cave’ of delights.
All the arrangements were soon made. A sum of money was advanced from the solicitor’s office, enough to arrange her travel and ensure that someone could be temporarily hired to look after the household duties in her absence. Once settled she would be able to sort out the arrangements on a more permanent basis.
Mary had been sad at the thought of losing her friend and blamed herself for bringing up the idea. Isabelle had always been adamant that she would only marry for love and she was now agreeing to marry a man she had never met and who was more than twice her age. Yet when she saw the determination on her friends face and listened to her plans for the farm and her sister’s future, she soon warmed to the idea and gave Isabelle two of her dresses for the journey. It was too bad that she would miss Mary’s wedding but the two girls promised to meet up as soon as they were both settled and respectable married women.
The day for her to leave soon arrived. The arrangements had been made just in time for her to arrive in California by the 25th February for the wedding. It was a hurried affair and the solicitor insisted that the ceremony must take place on that date. The journey itself would take two days. Her father agreed to drive her in the buggy to the station at Rawlins, and from there she would take the Overlander train out west to California and her future.
Isabelle could feel her lip start to tremble as her five sisters lined up at the gate to wave her goodbye. She had managed to remain strong until this moment, but now, seeing them sad at her departure almost broke her heart. Each of the girls had made a leaving gift for their sister; Jo had embroidered a handkerchief with the initials IC, in readiness for her marriage, Rachael a bookmark, Sarah had made her a card that all of them had signed and Hannah had picked her a posy of wild flowers. Even little Louisa had painted a colourful picture of their farm; a reminder for Isabelle when she was far from home.
It was this final, simple present that caused her heart to spill over and soon all of the girls were crying and hugging each other as their father waited silently in the cart.
Joseph Adams hadn’t said much to his daughter about her plans. He had listened in silence whilst she had told him of her decision and then he had nodded. Whether he agreed or not she could not tell; she had ceased to communicate with her father 5 years ago.
They travelled the two miles to the station in silence. It was only when the horse slowed to a halt and she turned to her father to say goodbye, which she noticed that he was crying; slow, steady tears trickling down his face.
Kissing him gently on the cheek she took his hand in hers.
“It will be alright father, I promise you. Soon we will have enough money to turn the farm around, you’ll see, the girls too, we will all benefit.”
Joseph held the small hand tightly within his own as he turned to look at his daughter.
“You are just like your mother Isabelle; beautiful and kind. I don’t know how I would have coped these last 5 years without you. I have been a bad father to you all and now you make this sacrifice for your family. Are you sure? There must be some other way?”
Isabelle shook her head. It was too late to change her mind and she was determined to make this work.
“It won’t be so bad father. I will have plenty of my own time and you and the girls must visit. Anyhow; $100 a month is hardly a sacrifice. I will soon be a real lady with my own carriage no doubt and perhaps even a servant or two”
She tried to laugh but her voice betrayed her inner struggle and it trembled as she spoke. Isabelle was close to tears and hugged her father quickly before she could change her mind.
Her heart lurched as she stood outside the station and watched her father drive off into the distance. The time had come and she could not waiver now. Picking up her bag she waved for the porter to help carry her large trunk through to the platform.
The waiting area was busy but an older man stood up to let her sit. The train would be busy but she didn’t need to worry. She had reserved a first class sleeping carriage at the insistence of Mr Calhoun. He wanted his ‘goods’ to arrive in tip top condition. It had seemed such a waste of money but the solicitor had insisted. The difference in price could have bought all of the girls a new pair of shoes; but she would soon have enough of her own money for that.
Isabelle had managed to save some money by not buying any new clothes for the journey, allowing her to leave $25 back home. Mary’s old dresses were almost new and Mr Calhoun would never know.
The only extravagance she had allowed herself was the purchase of a new hat. It was jaunty green colour to match her dress and had been a rash purchase under the influence of Mary.
It sat awkwardly at an angle on top of her head and she suddenly longed for her comfortable old cap and apron back home. But that was behind her now and she was about to step into a new world.
At last the train steamed into sight and she was glad to be starting the journey. She felt a little uneasy stepping into the First Class Pullman carriage with the well heeled men and women but she supposed that she would have to get used to it. The seats were wide and upholstered in a rich red and golden plush material on which she first sat tentatively watching miles of countryside fly passed the window before she felt comfortable enough to sit back and relax. Isabelle was amazed by the opulence of the carriage. She had only travelled third class before and had memories of sitting for hours in an uncomfortable wooden seat. There was a separate carriage for dining, smoking, a parlour and even a library on board. In the evening a porter would come and fold down the overhead bunk and a velvet curtain would be drawn across for privacy. She wished the girls could see her and would write to tell them of her adventures as soon as she reached California.
There were 5 men and 4 ladies sat in her carriage. No
ne of them had spoken to her since she had boarded. Isabelle had thought that she looked quite the lady in her almost new dress and hat but next to these grand ladies she looked nothing more than a country bumpkin, and felt they were looking down their noses at her. The men buried theirs in broadsheets whilst the women either read magazines or books and one lady had started to sew.
Isabelle had not packed any distractions for the journey and wished she had bought a magazine or borrowed one of Rachael’s books. The seat was comfortable and the carriage warm and she shut her eyes, feeling the rhythm of the wheels beneath her on the track below and before very long she was fast asleep.
As the train lurched to a halt she opened her eyes. It had been mid morning when they set off and now the late afternoon sun was well ahead of them to the west. She must have been asleep for several hours and rubbed her eyes as she looked outside. They had stopped at a station and several people were boarding. The carriage door on her left hand side opened and a young man stepped inside. He was a good looking youth with dark auburn hair and a small moustache. His eyes flitted quickly around the carriage, looking for a spare seat and seeing the one next to Isabelle unoccupied he stepped forward and gave a small bow.
“Excuse me Miss, is this seat taken?”
She found herself smiling immediately at the pleasant face before her and shook her head. He was the first person to speak to her since she had boarded and it was almost a relief to have someone acknowledge her existence.
As he took of his hat, a mop of unruly golden curls flopped across his brow and he settled into the seat beside her. Isabelle had never seen anyone like him in her life.
She could see the other passengers look him up and down before looking away in disdain. Although quite respectable, his clothes were slightly shabby and she noticed a patch on his jacket. Isabelle liked him immediately.
“Allow me to introduce myself; James McArthur at your service Ma’m. Now are you sure I am not intruding?”
Isabelle smiled whilst finding her voice. She was taken aback by his freshness and beauty and felt a sudden shyness.
“I’m going all the way to California so I’m afraid you will have to put up with me for your entire journey.”
One of the older women in the carriage seated across the aisle looked up at the sound of voices; she had been disturbed from her reading and cleared her throat in warning.
“Oh dear.”
James now spoke in a stage whisper.
“I seem to have disturbed the natives!”
Isabelle tried to stifle a giggle as the old dear shot her a piercing look over a pair of horn rimmed spectacles before returning to her reading.
The ice had been well and truly broken and within half an hour Isabelle had received a potted history of his life. He was the only child of Henry and Hilda and they had kept a hardware and grocery store in Jackson.
Business had been good and his childhood had been a very happy one and he had wanted for nothing. Growing up he had shown an aptitude for his studies and his teachers encouraged him to go to college. His father had died whilst he was in his final year and the debts had been many. James had returned home to help his ailing mother and had worked hard at building the business back up, repaying the outstanding debts and loans and looking after his mother until she too had died 6 months ago.
Deciding that he needed adventure James had resolved to sell up and sink all of his money in a gold mining claim out west in Northern California. His only possessions amounted to the clothes on his back, a small holdall and a one way ticket to famine or fortune.
A he spoke to her of his plans, his face became animated and his green eyes glowed with the spirit of adventure. She had only just met him yet she could feel her heart beating quickly in her chest.
Whilst they were busy talking a train guard entered the carriage. The old lady from across the aisle called him over and as he bent towards her she whispered something quietly in his ear. When she had finished he glanced over at the young couple and nodded before standing up straight and walking over to them.
His manner was brusque and short.
“Could I see your tickets please?”
Isabelle fished in her purse and pulled out the First Class ticket and presented it to the man. Looking slightly embarrassed with some of his ego partly deflated he passed it back with a quick nod of his head and waited for the young man.
“I’m afraid this is a second class ticket Sir, and this is a First Class compartment; I’m afraid that you will have to move”
His voice was controlled with only a hint of sarcasm; he obviously enjoyed this part of the job.
James shrugged his shoulders and started to put on his jacket. He winked knowingly at her.
“Worth a try I suppose.”
Isabelle’s spirits sank; it had been such a relief to find an amiable companion for her journey and now he must leave. The old dear opposite had stopped her reading and was looking over at them; a smug smile spreading on her lips.
She had to think fast.
“How much is the difference between a first and second ticket?”
The sound of her own voice startled the girl and the color rose to her cheeks as all eyes turned to her.
The train guard was caught off balance and it took a moment or two for him to respond. He looked around cautiously towards the old lady before speaking.
“Well, the cost of a First Class ticket is $136 and a Second Class one $120, now come along Sir, I will escort you to the correct carriage.”
Isabelle thought quickly and needed no hesitation. She had $30 in her purse for meals and any incidentals.
“I would like to cover the additional cost to change the gentleman’s ticket to First Class, if you please?”
Her face reddened at the sudden boldness and the train guard looked taken aback and started twisting at his collar
“Well Miss, I’m not sure about all this. It’s all highly irregular”
James smiled down at her; a look of puzzlement on his face.
“If I pay you the $16 difference in the price of the tickets then surely there is nothing more to be said?”
The guard stood red faced, hardly knowing what to say but opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air.
“That is settled then”
James opened his mouth to protest but she had already opened her bag and handed the guard a $20 note. There was nothing more to say.
Finally the new ticket was handed over and the guard left quickly; the evil eye of the old lady hurrying him on his way. She was not best pleased and once he had gone her attention turned to the young couple; a sour look upon her face.
“Can I be of any assistance Ma’m”
James gave a short bow and smiled and she quickly returned back to her reading.
Isabelle was trembling inside. She had never been so bold in her life and started to realise the power that a few bank notes could wield.
“That was really kind, although you really shouldn’t have. I’m afraid I will never be able to pay you back- not unless I strike lucky?”
She smiled, suddenly shy.
“You were magnificent; the way you handled that guard. I’m glad you are on my side”
He smiled back, his eyes shining and full of admiration for her.
“I’m so sorry but I have been so rude, I have told you all about me but know nothing about you, except your name”
Isabelle paused; for some reason she did not want to tell him about the cause for her journey; the arranged marriage to a man she had never met.
“I’m going out West to visit an old Aunt, nothing more than that.”
A little white lie wouldn’t hurt, besides when the journey was over she would never see him again.
The thought made her heart ache.
For the next few hours they travelled together in an easy silence. After half an hour James had fallen to sleep, his head lolled back onto the seat.
Isabelle watched his steady breathing.
With his smooth skin and golden hair he looked like an angel. As the sky grew dark outside the window she felt the evening chill start to descend and a wistful sadness crept over her; if only circumstances had been different.
She was hungry, but waited until he woke before suggesting that they eat. The dining car was quite full but they managed to be seated. A white gloved waiter handed over menus and waited for the drink order.
Isabelle had never tried any alcohol other than a sip of her father’s beer as a young girl and she hadn’t liked that. She scanned the menu quickly not knowing what to choose.
“I think Champagne for the lady”
James proceeded to order a pint of Moet & Chandon White Seal.
As the waiter whisked away to fetch the bottle, James leaned over the table.
“Don’t worry. I can pay for it. I must confess I told you a small white lie. I do happen to have $5 on my person”
Isabelle opened her mouth to object.
“Ah, ah. You must allow me to treat you to this. It is the least I can do after all your generosity. Now have you ever tasted champagne?”
She confessed she had not and when the bottle arrived the waiter poured them both a glass of the pale sparkling wine, James lifted his glass in a toast.
“To your old aunt-may she live for many long and happy years”
Isabelle raised her glass to his.
“To your gold mining claim; may you find riches and happiness?”
Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the carriage as she sipped on the glass. The bubbles popped on her tongue and she immediately felt light headed and giggled; all thoughts of the future pushed away from her mind. She would enjoy the moment; that was all.
They ate a hearty dinner of soup, roast beef and ice cream. The meals were priced at $1 each and Isabelle did not have to worry about the money.
