The Letter (Carter Sisters Series Book 4)

by Morgan Dawson

  She smiles, letting out a breath when she finds it.

  “Will you be able to manage now?” I ask her.

  “Yes. What about you?”

  I give her a reassuring smile, though I’m not so sure. “I hope so. I’ll write to you when I’m settled.”

  She furrows her eyebrows, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so glad we got the chance to meet, Lydia. Have fun on your journey.”

  I smile, my chin resting on her shoulder. Her red hair poofs out in front of me. “I’m glad I met you too, Abigale.”

  She grins, waving to me as she picks up her skirts and pushes her way toward the carriage, and the man with the purple feathers on his top hat.

  I sigh, realizing I’m on my own now. I decide to first find a spot away from the crowd, to think of a plan.

  Eventually I find a bench where there aren’t very many people. I sit down, setting my bags beside me and look around.

  The city is so much different than home. I knew it would be, but I never truly imagined it.

  There aren’t as many people walking around as there were in the train station when we got off, though, still way more than in Riverbend. There are a lot more horses pulling wagons around too. And the buildings are bigger it seems. I look up to the clock tower. It’s lovely and the first one I’ve ever seen.

  I look down at my dress and think of my sisters. How I wish they could see this. It’s almost beautiful in a way.

  It feels like my whole body is shaking as I stand up, my bags in hand and wait until an older woman bustles past.

  “Excuse me ma’am?” I struggle to get the words out, feeling nervous.

  She turns to face me.

  “Do you…do you…sorry. I was meaning to say that I… No, sorry. It’s just I was wondering…”

  She scowls. “Sorry. I don’t have the time to wait around.”

  I watch as she continues to hurry down the sidewalk.

  Trying not to feel too upset with myself I wait till a man walks past. “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and begin to say the words I’ve rehearsed to myself many times on the train. “I’m looking for Anna Harris. Do you know her?”

  He hesitates for a few seconds. “Sorry, but I don’t know who you speak of.”

  “Okay. Thank you anyway.”

  He nods once before continuing on.

  “Ma’am?”

  The next woman, probably around Freida’s age turns to face me.

  “Do you know Anna Harris?”

  “No, sorry.” She continues walking.

  This is not going as well as I was hoping it would.

  Not wanting to give up yet. I keep asking several people as they walk by, but so far no one knows her.

  I decide to sit back down on the bench for a bit, to regain my courage.

  I feel terrified right now. Why did I ever think this would be easy?

  Taking a deep breath, I stand up. I will not give up. I must do what my ma wanted me to.

  Chapter 9

  It’s been several hours, and I realize the sun is beginning to go down. I look to the clock. Six-thirty.

  Not good at all.

  I’ve asked what seems to have been thousands of people. Though, I know it can’t have been that many. And no one knows of her.

  Maybe Anna Harris is dead. Or moved away years ago. Why did I never even consider this before?

  I sit down on the bench again, covering my face with my hands, letting out a frustrated sigh.

  Moving my hands, I look up at the sky. I wonder if my family is looking up at the sky right now. I doubt it, but I wonder what they’re actually doing. They probably think I’m safe by now, though, they won’t know until I get that letter sent. But at this rate, I don’t think there will be a letter to send.

  An old man walks past, and I quickly shout. “Sir?”

  “What?” he grumbles.

  “Do you know someone named Anna Harris?”

  He snorts. “No.”

  I watch as he walks away.

  I feel tears threatening, but I blink them away. I must not cry. I must not let this break me now. I’ve come all this way.

  I’ve come all this way and imagine the disappointment when I have to buy my train ticket back home. Then tell everyone I didn’t have the ability to complete the journey.

  I must keep searching. I decide maybe I should walk a little farther and try to find some people farther away from the train station. Perhaps they’ll know.

  And so, I pick up my skirts, grab my bags and begin walking down the now darkening streets in hope of finding my way.

  I ask people as I walk, I ask people when I find another bench. And no one knows her. Perhaps my ma was delirious when she wrote the letter. Perhaps there is no Anna Harris.

  It’s been awhile since I moved from my original spot. I’ve asked many more people, but now not many walk past my spot on the bench.

  It’s dark out now, and the stars twinkle above me. Though, they don’t seem so bright as usual. And there aren’t as many as I normally see on the farm. At home.

  If I were home right now, I would be inside. Probably around the fire. Safe. With my family.

  But now I’m out on the streets of Northwood. One of the largest cities I know. Although the lights from buildings shine out onto the streets, it’s dark out, and only a few people walk past.

  And I’m hungry. I only had a few biscuits this morning with gravy, thinking I would be with whoever this Anna Harris is by now.

  I should’ve gone and got something from the bakery I suppose, but I haven’t a clue where to look for that. And I don’t want to get too far from the train station.

  I’m lost, alone, tired, hungry, and absolutely terrified.

  Not caring who sees me, I begin to feel my shoulders shake as I release the tears I’ve been holding in for a while.

  I was foolish to think this would be easy. Absolutely foolish.

  * * *

  There’s hardly anyone walking past anymore. The night air has begun to settle in and my hands are getting cold.

  I lift my head up quickly as shouting sounds from around the corner of the building I’m sitting in front of.

  “Who do you think you, er? You pay me my money.” An angry man’s voice slurs the words.

  “I already told you. I ain’t got none.” Another man shouts.

  The first time I hear it, I flinch. It sounds like someone was punched. Then a scream and laughter from the other man. Cruel, angry laughter.

  I look toward the direction of the two men and see the blond man for the first time as he’s shoved out from behind the building. The other man steps in front of him, still laughing.

  He pushes the man again and he falls onto the ground, shouting out some foul words.

  I nearly want to faint.

  “I’ll get the money to you. I promise. Please.” The blond man is trying to sit up but struggling.

  “Yer better. I’ll find ya if you don’t.” The man shouts.

  For the first time I notice the bottle in the man’s hand. Of course. They’re from the saloon.

  The fair-haired man jumps up and runs off down the dark street, and I watch the other man watch after him.

  He’s large, probably double the size of me. His hair a stringy brown.

  He turns and to my horror, his eyes meet mine. “What do you think yer lookin’ at?”

  I shake my head frantically. “I’m sorry. I…”

  He takes a stumbling step toward me, and I grab my bags and go to stand.

  “Where you think yer goin’? Got some money for a poor man like me?” He stumbles forward again.

  I pick up my skirts and begin to run away from the man, struggling to carry the weight of my bag.

  “Hey. Get back ‘ere!” he shouts from behind me, and I hear his footsteps gaining on me.

  I’ve never been much of a runner.

  Why did I ever decide to come here? I feel the tears running down my
face, and I fumble on the grip of my bag.

  “Get back ‘ere!” he shouts again.

  I try to run faster, but I can’t. I feel the skirt of my dress get caught underneath me, and before I can stop myself, I fall straight onto the hard, stone ground.

  I hit my chin on the ground, and it instantly hurts, jarring my teeth. I scream, not caring how loud I am. Not caring who sees me. Besides, there’s no one around but this drunk man.

  I scream and cry as the man gets closer.

  I look at my bag that fell on the ground beside me. So much fun I thought I would have. Oh, how I was wrong.

  Then a shout sounds from behind the man.

  But I don’t care anymore. Probably another one of his friends coming too.

  “Stop it at once!” The voice shouts.

  I turn my head to look up at a young man who’s run in front of the brute of a man chasing me.

  “And who do you think you are?” the brute shouts, stumbling a little.

  “Just leave the woman alone. Go back to the saloon.”

  The man cackles. “I ain’t got no money to buy anything there. So why should I?”

  “Here.” The young man’s hands are trembling as he shoves his hand into his pocket. “Is this enough?”

  I watch the young man hand the other man some money. He looks down at it and sighs.

  “Good enough. But if that pretty lady don’t be more careful, she’s going to have a lot of trouble,” the man grumbles, stomping off the way he came.

  I’m still crying as my rescuer turns to me.

  And I feel myself trembling.

  He crouches down in front of me, and my eyes meet his. “Ma’am? Are you all right?”

  I feel another tear slip down my cheek. “I…I’m not so sure.”

  “I know. Here.” His hand extends, and I take it as he helps me up.

  My whole body shakes as he moves to grab my bags.

  “C’mon,” he says, motioning for me to follow him. He’s got my bags in his hand, and I reluctantly trail behind him.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Away from here before that man changes his mind. I’m afraid I won’t be able to fight him off.”

  I shudder and look to him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We walk in silence down the dark street, until he turns toward a small house where I follow him inside.

  There’s a small fire going at the far end of the room. And a small wooden table sits right in the entrance.

  He shuts the door behind him, and I realize I’ve just walked into a stranger’s house. But perhaps this is better than being on the streets.

  Chapter 10

  I’m sitting at the table now, my hands covering my face as the man sits down across from me.

  He clears his throat. “Why were you out there?”

  I wipe my tears off my face and my eyes meet his. I take a minute to see who he is. It was so dark out there, I couldn’t even see what he looked like. His hair is light brown and cut short. His eyes are a dark brown.

  “I came from the train station.”

  He furrows his eyebrows. “So you don’t live here?”

  “No, I’m from Nebraska.” I feel tears threaten at the thought of home.

  “But why were you sitting on that bench?”

  I realize he must’ve seen the whole thing. I feel my chin begin to tremble but I close my eyes, forcing myself to stay composed. “I was sent here by my ma. She told me to ask around for someone named Anna Harris. I got off the train and…”

  I trail off, thinking of when I got off the train. Nervous but with some hope.

  I continue, “When I got off the train today around noon, I asked so many people and no one knew her. I don’t know why I came here. I was foolish. Then it got dark, and I didn’t know where to go.”

  I can’t stop the tears from falling.

  “It’s okay,” he says softly.

  I smile faintly. “Actually it’s funny you say that, because it’s really not okay.”

  “What’s your name?” He smiles at me.

  “Lydia.” My eyes meet his, but I quickly look away.

  “I’m Oliver Hayes. And I’m going to help you. You’re safe now.”

  I wipe my eyes and laugh lightly. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

  “It’s all right. It seems like you’ve been through a lot. Can you tell me exactly what’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath and for some reason confide in this Oliver Hayes. Maybe only because of the fact he saved me earlier. Or maybe I just need someone to listen. I begin to explain how my ma had passed away years ago, and now I’m on this ridiculous journey that she’s sent me on. I show him the letter. And I tell him about my journey here.

  I finish my story and close my eyes.

  He takes a long, deep breath. “I see. So you never knew the woman your ma sent you to find?”

  “No. I think maybe my ma was feverish or something when she wrote the letter. Maybe Anna Harris isn’t real. And maybe I’ve traveled all this way for nothing.”

  He says nothing for a few seconds. “When did you eat last?”

  “This morning.”

  Oliver winces and stands up. He opens a cupboard and quickly pulls out a loaf of bread. My stomach turns over itself.

  He cuts a slice and hands it to me.

  It’s homemade for sure. I take a bite, and it’s deliciously soft in my mouth. I’ve barely eaten a thing. Once I’ve finished I look up to him. “Did you make this?”

  He laughs, setting the bread and knife in front of me. “Heavens no. My sisters did. They’re sleeping right now. You can have another one if you like.”

  My hand shaking, I pick up the knife and cut another slice.

  “So, Lydia. What are you going to do?”

  I look down at the table. “I have no clue. I think tomorrow I will go to the train station and—”

  He cuts me off. “So you’re just going to go home?”

  I laugh lightly. “Well I don’t really see any other option.”

  “You’re not even going to see for sure if Anna is here?”

  “Well—”

  “I’ll help you. I’m sure she does live here. I mean Northwood is so large, you can’t expect everyone to know her.” Oliver smiles.

  “I suppose.”

  “For now, I think you need to rest. It must’ve been a long, tiresome journey for you.”

  I nod, standing up.

  “I’ll wake my sister Ophelia. She can help you get settled in their room.”

  I stop him. “No. I hate to intrude. If you could perhaps direct me to the nearest place I could pay for a room.”

  “It’s late. There are many people out there far worse than the people in your small town. I don’t think you want to go out there. Especially in this area of town.”

  I shudder, and he motions for me to follow him. He opens a door into a dark room. I don’t enter but I hear him wake his sister.

  “What?” I hear who I assume is Ophelia, moan.

  “I need you to help this girl I found on the streets. She’s not from here and got into a problem tonight.”

  I hear her whisper in a strained voice, “You’re just going to let some girl—”

  He stops her. “Yes. Because she needs help, and if it were you in her position I would hope someone would do the same for you.”

  She says nothing, and he comes over to the door. “Ophelia will help you. We’ll sort this out in the morning. Just try to get some rest.”

  I watch as he walks down the hall back into the main room. I hesitantly take a step into the room and see two beds with a sleeping girl in one. The other bed is where Ophelia sits.

  “Come on then,” she whispers, standing to move and shut the door behind me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ophelia gives me a sad smile. “It’s okay. But my brother doesn’t like to share things with me. Who are you?”

  “I’m Lydia.
I’m from a farm in Nebraska. And I came here to complete something my ma who passed away wanted me to do. I was told to find someone, but no one could help me. I was on a bench when a drunk man saw me, and I ran, but fell. Then your brother stepped in and got the man away.”

  She smiles. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m Ophelia.”

  I nod, and she points to the bed I assume she was sleeping in before.

  “You can sleep there. I’ll crawl in with my sister.” Ophelia turns and walks to where the other bed is.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed and stare at the wall in front of me. My eyes feel like they’re unable to cry anymore. What a start to this journey. But I hope that with the help of these people I don’t know, I can find Anna Harris and begin the things my ma sent me to do.

  I lie down and pull the cover up over me. My hands are cold as I rub them together quietly.

  Oh, Hazel. I say to myself. I wish you were here with me.

  And with that quick thought, I close my heavy eyes and soon feel myself falling into a world of darkness.

  Chapter 11

  I wake up and the room is filled with light. I roll over to see if Hazel’s still asleep.

  As soon as I do, everything comes back to me. The fact that I’m not at home, got chased by a drunk man, and cried in front of some stranger. And am now lying in their house.

  The absurdity of it all almost makes me laugh. Almost.

  I sit up and rub my eyes. I actually had a pretty good sleep, but now I need to figure out what to do next.

  Located on a small wooden table by the other bed is a mirror. I go over and tuck the pieces of hair that fell out of the simple updo I’ve had in for what seems like forever.

  Feeling nervous, I walk toward the door and press my ear against it to listen for someone out there.

  I hear a young girl’s voice. “I feel so bad for her. I hope we can help her find who she’s looking for.”

  “Yes, but she said she’s worried that when her mother wrote the letter she was feverish and didn’t know what she was talking about,” Oliver’s voice replies.

  I decide to just go out and face whatever embarrassment I will feel. I turn the door handle and push the door out. They stop talking, and I make my way out.