Into the Evermore (The Gentrys of Paradise Book 1)

by Holly Bush

  “No. I’m not, am I? My father hid our silver money here. Those stupid, horrible thieves never even looked for it.”

  Beau turned back to where she pointed and examined the wood. It would have never been found unless someone knew where to look. But he hesitated to open it here, on a road where bandits lurked with nightfall not far, a young woman in his protection.

  “I was thinking we should try and get the wagon back to town for you. It is yours, after all. You could sell it, and there are some boxes in the back that I imagine you will want to keep,” he said.

  “Yes. I was thinking the same thing but did not want to trouble you. They stole our horses, I imagine.”

  It was then he noticed four equine legs standing beside the wagon. “Nellie must have pulled loose where I tied her.”

  “No. That is not your horse,” she said and scrambled out from under the wagon. “It is Bristol! She must have gotten away.”

  Beau watched her nuzzle the horse and heard a neigh in return. “She doesn’t look worse for the wear. Must have found some grasses to chew on.”

  Eleanor buried her face in the horse’s mane. Home, this horse and these belongings are what’s left of home. She would hang on to what remained of her past life, she must to maintain her sanity, but she would move forward in new directions. There was nothing gained by looking back, and her misery would never give life to her family again. She must honor them by remembering and living up to the ideals they held dear. She would look to the future and determine how she would continue on.

  Mr. Gentry was watching her. “She will get the wagon to Winchester for us. We’ll team her with Nellie and tie the mule to the back.”

  He took them directly to the stables and told the men working there that both horses and the mule should be brushed and fed, with an extra portion to the rescued horse. He moved the wagon to the area that the stable owner showed them.

  “I’ve got a problem with that buckboard,” Gentry said to the men. “I’d like to borrow a tool or two and fix it.”

  “We’ll take care of it for you, mister,” a young man said. “We worked on this one last week.”

  Gentry shook his head. “No. I prefer to do the work myself. If I could just borrow a chisel and hammer, I’d be much obliged.”

  The young man shrugged and pointed to a wooden box on the floor. “Hep yourself.”

  Eleanor waited as Mr. Gentry crawled under the wagon and came out a few moments later. He handed her a small, heavy metal box. She took it and put it in her valise that she found in the back of the wagon. It had been emptied, all her belongings dumped and rifled through, much of its contents on the floor of the wagon until she sorted her things and shook out her skirts and dresses.

  “Is there a boardinghouse in this town?” he asked her as they left the stable.

  “One that I know of. We stayed there while we were here in Winchester. The owner is a member of the church I visited.” She looked up at him. “I’d prefer not to stay there.”

  “A hotel for you then? I will pay for your room,” he said.

  “I would appreciate that, as I would like to open this box in privacy, but I will pay you back as soon as it is open.”

  “There is no need for that.”

  “Yes, there is. You have a deed to be transferred and a dream to fulfill, Mr. Gentry. I will not burrow into your savings.”

  “I don’t usually stay in a hotel. Too fancy and fine for the likes of me, but I do like to sleep in a real bed when I get the chance and I don’t like the idea of you staying alone. I’ll get a room near yours unless you think me presumptuous.”

  “I could hardly think you presumptuous. You’ve saved my life twice over.”

  She thanked him for his escort after he’d checked them in with the attendant in the lobby and paid for two rooms. She closed the hotel room door behind her and threw the bolt. She pulled the necklace that held her cross and a small key from around her neck, and inserted the key into the metal box. The mechanism turned soundlessly, and she lifted the lid. There were several gold coins and many more silver ones. She slowly opened a folded note.

  Dear Wife or Daughter,

  If you are reading this letter then you are in possession of the savings I’ve accumulated, much of which came from your mother’s dowry when I married her before coming from England, as a minister’s salary is not large nor is it regular. Whatever the circumstances are that you have opened this, remember to love the Lord and please him in all you do. I am ever so proud of all of you dear girls.

  In Christ,

  Father

  Eleanor gave in then, alone and on her own, letting her falling tears turn into sobs. She would not dwell in this dark place for long but she was desperate for the release now. She cried until her eyes closed and she slept. She awoke later and knew that it would not do for her to continue on with sadness for even a short period of time, as she was on her own with decisions to make and without the luxury of idleness to consider her circumstances. She must determine how she would go on, what kind of employment she might secure, if she should attempt a trip by herself to Philadelphia to her aunt and pray that she was still in this world when she arrived, or if there was another path open to her. Unbidden, Mr. Gentry’s face appeared before her eyes.

  A note slid under her door.

  Miss Eleanor. Eating at a restaurant near the hotel if you would care to join me.

  Eleanor brushed out her hair, braided it, and pinned the braids around her head in a coronet. She put on her best outfit, a dark red plaid skirt with a white blouse and a short dark red jacket. She was happy to put on petticoats and clean drawers and stockings. She felt civilized and worthy of society. She felt like the young woman she was back in Allentown, ready to make the next step in her life, ready for her own story to unfold, past the danger and violence of the last week or more.

  She opened the door after hearing a knock and Mr. Gentry’s voice. He’d shaved his heavy beard and had his long hair cut. He was wearing a clean collarless shirt and a jacket. He looked handsome and masculine and a decade younger.

  “Mr. Gentry,” she said and smiled.

  “Miss Eleanor.”

  Chapter 3

  Beau realized at that moment Eleanor McManus was the woman he’d been dreaming of. All the solitary times, making his way from Canada, through foothills and over mountains, sometimes not seeing anyone for days, he’d dreamt of a woman. A woman who would comfort him and be his partner. A woman to love. Eleanor was that woman. The filmy image in his dream that woke him sweating with a roaring need to satisfy himself was real and alive and in front of him. She took his breath away.

  “What shall I do with the box, Mr. Gentry?”

  It was then he realized she was holding it in her hands. “I’ve put my deed and other documents in the hotel safe, but perhaps you would prefer I carried it for you.”

  “I would.” She sat the box on the bed and turned, handing him a coin. “But first I want to pay you for this room.”

  “This is a twenty-dollar silver piece, Miss Eleanor. The room was only three-quarters of a dollar.”

  She stepped close and wrapped her hands around his and looked up into his eyes. “You must take it. How could I ever repay your bravery and kindness and steady companionship? Your toil over my family’s graves? Your defense of me to a man not worthy to speak to you? You have been everything true, right, and gentlemanly. Please take it. You will be able to clear your uncle’s deed.”

  Beau held her hands loosely and bowed his head. He was about to do the sort of thing that his mother scolded him for all those years ago. Speaking before thinking. Not considering consequences. But neither of those things were entirely true, if at all. He had considered the consequences as much as any man could. He’d thought about it for days if he was truthful with himself.

  “There is something else you could do for me, Miss Eleanor. It is something far more precious, though, than a piece of silver,” he said as he looked at her. She was staring up
at him with wide green luminous eyes above rosy cheeks sprinkled with freckles, her hair in a shining crown. “Will you . . . will you marry me?”

  She hesitated and licked her lips.

  “I will do everything I can to see to your comfort. I will build you a home, and see that you are safe, warm, dry, and never hungry. I know it is quick and our meeting was less than ideal. I will give you as much time as you need to consider this. You have been through grave changes in a short period and I don’t want you to be forced because you may feel obliged, even though there is no reason to.”

  “I corresponded with William for two years, and I knew nothing of his character, or the absence of it. Your character has been tested and tried from the day of our meeting. I will not change my mind. Yes, Mr. Gentry. I’d be honored to be your wife.”

  Beau inhaled sharply, feeling the elation of victory course through him, pounding in his ears and making his heart beat wildly in his chest. This was why men, the good ones, from centuries past and most likely in the distant future, too, laid down their lives for their womenfolk. His claim on her, and her willingness to accept him, felt like the triumph conquerors must have experienced when they laid waste to an army or stepped on a new land, as if they were kings of all they could see. He smiled crookedly at her.

  “Are you ready for your meal, Miss Eleanor?”

  Her face had gone bright red and she was blinking furiously. One tear trickled down her cheek. Beau’s success wilted under the thought that a marriage to him would make this woman unhappy. He palmed her cheek and rubbed away her tear with his thumb.

  “You needn’t marry me, Miss Eleanor. I will see you situated somehow, somewhere safe and without worry, and be on my way. I will take you to Philadelphia to your aunt. Don’t cry. I’ll not impose on you any longer.”

  “No, no.” She covered his hand with hers. “I am not crying because I am sad, Mr. Gentry.”

  She looked up at him then and dropped her eyes to his mouth. She licked her lips and leaned up to softly touch her lips to his cheek. He held completely still, perhaps from shock that this sheltered woman had kissed him or maybe that he didn’t want the kiss to end. He could smell a lilac soap on her skin and see the gold flecks in her green eyes.

  “Why are you crying then?” he whispered.

  “Because my life has been turned upside down, and you have righted it. I have been dreaming that you might ask me this. I believe, even with all of the terrible things that have recently happened, I have been very blessed.”

  “My granny used to say some of the very best things in life are outcomes of the very worst things.”

  He escorted her to a restaurant a few doors away from the hotel, and Eleanor forced herself to stand tall, nod to others out on the street, and act with all the decorum and dignity her mother had taught her. In all likelihood, Winchester would be the town she would shop in, form friendships in, and attend church in, and she had no intention of allowing the townsfolk to shape an opinion about her that she did not deserve. She would soon be Mrs. Beauregard Gentry, and he, and the family they formed, would be respected in this town, if she had any say about it. The family they formed! Oh dear!

  Even though she knew the general mechanics, her mother had promised her a more detailed and intimate description of the marriage bed before her and William’s wedding. She had never thought that her mother would not be with her when she married, though. There were moments, many of them actually, when the last days seemed like a dream that she would awake from and her family would be with her and not cold in their graves. But it wasn’t to be. She would never wake up and find a different outcome. Mother and Father and Emily and Ruth would still be dead if she lived to be one hundred years old. She looked up at Mr. Gentry.

  “I am missing my parents. That is why I began to cry earlier. I wish you had known them and that they could have known you.”

  “You have much to be tender over, Miss Eleanor, but I do not wish to be one of the things that causes your grief.”

  “You are not. You are not at all.”

  They were seated across from each other in the busy room and ordered their food from a young woman.

  “I would like to hear about your family in Louisiana, Mr. Gentry. You left home with an uncle, I believe you said.”

  “I am one of nine, although I am not sure where the hell my sisters and brothers are. My ma died when I was ten or so, and my pa was fond of his moonshine and didn’t last much longer. Us kids were scattered to the wind when he died. Some went out to the Texas territories. I went to live with my Uncle Chester and Auntie Dorthea, although I’m not sure I was blood-related to either of them. I loved them, though, and they loved me. Aunt Dorthea was a teacher, and I am in her debt that I can read and cipher and know some histories.”

  “So you have no one?”

  He shook his head. “Not after Uncle Chester died.”

  Eleanor reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’m very sorry.”

  “Tell me about your aunt in Philadelphia.”

  “There is little to say. I met her once when I was young, perhaps eight or nine years old. She is a spinster lady without family, and we lived far away from her. I remember hearing my mother say she was very angry when Father and Mother moved to Allentown shortly after I was born, to a new church. I believe they corresponded, but she was not known to me and Father never read her letters to us. I thought about going to her when I was unsure of my future, but Mother said her last letter was written by a neighbor because she was very ill. I wondered if I would get myself to Philadelphia and find that she had passed on. That won’t be necessary now. I will have to write her and tell her of my upcoming marriage.”

  “I’m determined to make my mark, Miss Eleanor. You should know that. I won’t be poor, or beholden to strangers, and I have done my adventuring. I want to claim my uncle’s land. I want to pass on a stable, prosperous piece of property to sons and daughters,” he said and looked at her steadily. “You may assure your aunt of that.”

  “I cannot think of a more satisfying plan than the one you have just spoken of. Have you decided what you will do with your land? Will you farm?”

  “Our land,” he said. “When we’re married, your name will be on the deed as well. I’m hoping that we’ll be able to ride out soon and see for ourselves what this land is good for.”

  Her face had colored at the mention of sons and daughters, and the word marriage, invoked intimacies that were beyond her knowing. There were never conversations or discussions about procreation in her mother and father’s household. She had never attended a birthing, which her mother did with some regularity. It was not done. Young Christian women in her church, her community, her family were chaste in thought and deed. How ridiculous, considering her present situation. There was nothing to guide her, other than her own instincts and the goodwill of her future husband. Perhaps that would be enough to lead her on the mysterious path of womanhood.

  But one momentous thing had occurred. She was to be a landowner with him. She was to be a partner to him. She looked up at him and felt the strangest stirrings below her waist. His looks, the way fine hairs dusted his hands and peeked out from the top button of his shirt, the clean smell of him, and how his jacket lay tautly over broad shoulders appealed to her. And not just appealed. That was far too tame a word. His lips and the way his dark eyes looked at her for a second longer than was polite had a pull beyond mere appearances. There was some magnetism between them she could not identify.

  “It will be very exciting to see the land, our land, and begin to imagine what we can make of it,” she said.

  “It will be.” He smiled at her.

  Perhaps she was being foolish, or shortsighted, or wistful for the family roots she’d been accustomed to all of her life, she wasn’t sure. But she was compelled, though, to say what she’d been thinking since very shortly after he’d asked her to marry him.

  “I believe we should be married quite soon, if you’re agreeable.
Tomorrow or the next day.”

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob and waited while he chewed and swallowed and took a drink of water. “I figured we’d want to take our time, seeing that you have relatives to mourn.”

  “No, Mr. Gentry. If we are to raise a family in this town, I intend to do so with no rumors or shadows cast on us. We cannot travel back and forth to our property, or spend all of our time together unless we are married. Our time at the cabin was an extraordinary circumstance, I believe, and you were the perfect gentleman. But now we are both safe from harm, and I have made a commitment to you, as it seems you have to me. In any case, two more weeks will not be enough to get to know each other in any significant way. If we are to be committed to each other, forge dreams and plans together, then I say we begin from the beginning.”

  “Miss Eleanor, won’t you please call me Beau or Beauregard?” he said and took her hand. “I would have married you yesterday and all the yesterdays before that, if I’d known you then. But you are adrift. Perhaps when this is behind you a few more weeks, you will meet someone you’d rather marry or find something you would rather do altogether. I have said I will release you from your promise if so, and I meant it.”

  “I am as sure of this as I’ve ever been of anything in my life.”

  Beau did not see any misapprehension or doubt in her looks. In fact, he saw resolve, certainty, and practicality. “Then tomorrow it is.”

  She smiled at him then and applied herself to her meal. She took his breath away with her beauty and forthright nature. She would be everything he’d hoped to find in a wife, a partner.

  As they walked back to the hotel, he stopped them when there were no others around them and turned her to face him. “I do think it would be best if we waited until we had our cabin habitable before we . . . before we seal the marriage. I have no intentions of being together as man and wife on a small bed in a rented hotel room.”