A Flood of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “Mrs. Escalante, this is Gretchen Gottsacker,” Katiann said. “She speaks German . . . and Spanish.”

  Gretchen noted the amusement in Katiann’s voice. Her statement silenced the older woman, who looked momentarily embarrassed. From some of the things she had said to the child, Gretchen wasn’t surprised.

  “Forgive me. It’s just that I’ve been looking all over for this child. She was supposed to be in her room. Her papa will be home soon and expect her to be there for supper.”

  “I understand.” Gretchen gave Katiann a wave. “It was nice to meet you, Katiann. You’ll have to come see me sometime at the Harvey House. That’s where I’m staying and working for the next few weeks.”

  “I’ll come see you soon,” the child promised.

  Gretchen chuckled as she made her way back to the Harvey House. “No doubt you will.”

  Chapter Two

  Katiann was true to her word. She not only came to see Gretchen the next day, but every day after that. Gretchen found her company charming. Katiann said what she thought and asked what she wanted to know. There were no barriers between them. Katiann was simply . . . Katiann.

  After a week of working and gaining a better understanding of the staff, Gretchen felt almost at home. Fred Harvey had a rule about his many lunchrooms and restaurants being identical in service whether in Topeka, Kansas, or Winslow, Arizona. San Marcial was no exception. The silver service gleamed, and the floors were clean enough to eat off of—at least for a full minute after they were scoured and polished.

  But the summer days were hot. Unbearably so. Another town along the Rio Grande might be a veritable oasis, but not San Marcial. Here, it was said that the only things that grew well were sin and horned toads, and the latter weren’t doing so well thanks to their encounters with trains.

  Gretchen could bear the heat no longer. As a child she had often gone swimming in the river, and she intended to repeat that pleasure, since it was her day off. She’d heard many of the girls talk about swimming in the river at a particular location just west of the city where there was more privacy, and she wanted to give it a try. She had learned to swim in the river when she was very young. Her father had begun her lessons, and she’d followed the examples of others after he was gone. Most of the time she had been content to sit in the water at the edge of the river and dream of a happy future.

  Katiann had caught wind of Gretchen’s plans and, with Mrs. Escalante’s permission, had come to join her. She even brought cookies, compliments of her nanny.

  “Mrs. Escalante makes really good cookies. She calls them hojarascos. It means ‘crumbled up leaves’ or something like that. But they don’t really have leaves in them. They’re amazingly good. I didn’t know if you’d ever had them.”

  “I have, and I’m very fond of them,” Gretchen admitted.

  They reached the river and set up a little camp under the cottonwood trees, where they put their extra things. Gretchen, grateful for the loan of a bathing suit from one of the Harvey Girls, began stripping off her clothes. It had to be at least one hundred degrees, even in the shade.

  Katiann wore nothing but a loose Mexican dress. She pulled it over her head to reveal her own suit. It was charming, resembling a smaller version of the suit Gretchen wore. Sleeveless, the top was like a shortened dress that fell to just above her knees. Beneath that were bloomers that tied at the knee. It was made from several different colors of material and suited Katiann’s rambunctious personality. On the other hand, Gretchen’s suit was a simple navy color. The bloomers worn beneath the sleeveless top were straight-legged and cut just above the knee.

  “Do you use a swimming hat?” Katiann asked as Gretchen opened her large bag.

  “No, I just keep my hair pinned up and worry about it later.”

  “I thought maybe you were looking for your hat. What are you doing?”

  Gretchen smiled. “I’m putting my clothes away so they don’t get wet or filled with bugs.” She put her things inside the bag along with her shoes, then pulled the drawstrings. Then she found a branch to hang the bag from. “I grew up here, remember? I know all about scorpions and spiders and snakes. I don’t want any of them trying on my clothes.”

  Katiann giggled. “If they try on my dress, I’ll just shake them out. Besides, I use my dress to sit on when I’m done swimming.” And with that, she hurried into the water and splashed handfuls back at Gretchen. “It feels wonderfully cool.”

  Gretchen joined her, remembering when she’d come here with her grandmother or other friends. San Marcial—like many riverside towns—had a complicated relationship with the Rio Grande, which was known as “the Nile of the Southwest” because of its propensity to overflow its banks when the rains came. Yet the many times she had swum here as a child were some of the happiest memories Gretchen had.

  As they enjoyed the water, several other people arrived to join them. Katiann had to speak with each person as if she were the town’s welcoming committee. Everyone seemed to know her. One woman with several children even handed Katiann a bottle of soda.

  The hot sun beat down on Gretchen’s fair skin, reminding her that if she wasn’t careful, she’d be burnt to a crisp. Oma had always had Gretchen soak in a soda bath after getting sunburned and afterward had smeared her arms with the gooey contents of snapped aloe vera leaves. She wondered if anyone in town had a plant or two to share. She thought of her friend Nellie. She hadn’t had time yet to look her up. She would make that a priority and use the aloe vera as an excuse. They had once been so close, but over the years they had communicated less and less.

  After a while, Gretchen made her way back to the sparse gathering of cottonwoods. She spread a towel on the ground and leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, grateful for the shade. Katiann continued to splash and play with her friends. It was clear this was nothing new to her.

  Dozing off, Gretchen thought about the last time she’d been in San Marcial. It had been ten years ago. The funeral services for her grandmother had been the day before, and Gretchen was left with the responsibility of packing up the final bits of their life together. It wasn’t like they’d had much. Oma earned what little money they had by doing laundry for the railroad men. Gretchen could still see the clotheslines out behind their little adobe house. There were four lines and always, rain or shine, they hung with rows of work shirts, denim overalls, and a variety of undergarments and socks. When Gretchen wasn’t in school, she was helping her grandmother. The workmen were always generous when paying for their clothes and often brought additional treats as well. Gretchen remembered them fondly.

  A scream split the air, and Gretchen awoke with a start. She straightened and looked for Katiann just as the girl screamed again. A man had lifted her out of the water and was preparing to throw her back into the river.

  Gretchen jumped to her feet. “Stop that! Unhand that child!” She raced to Katiann’s defense, but it was too late. The man had already tossed her into the water.

  Katiann quickly resurfaced, and once Gretchen was sure she was all right, she turned to rebuke the man. “Just who do you think you are?”

  But then their eyes met, and Gretchen knew exactly who he was.

  Dirk Martinez was stunned when a shapely blond woman demanded he unhand his own child. He made sure Katiann was safely back to the surface of the water before turning to see who the woman was. Her familiar blue eyes bore into him for only a moment before her expression changed from anger to shock.

  “Gretchen.” His voice was barely a whisper. Here was the woman he had left behind ten years ago. The woman he had come back hoping to find. The only woman he had ever loved.

  She shook her head and gazed at Katiann, then reluctantly turned back to Dirk. “She’s yours?”

  He nodded, still not certain he could speak. Gretchen was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. The emergency that had forced him to leave town without telling her had turned into a life-changing decision. A part of him had always regret
ted that choice, while another told him he would have regretted it more if he hadn’t followed through.

  Gretchen said nothing. Katiann joined them, all smiles. “Daddy, this is Gretchen. She’s my friend, and she works at the Harvey House. Gretchen, this is my daddy. His name is Dirk.”

  Dirk could see the same confusion on Gretchen’s face that he felt. He’d thought he’d lost her forever. Thought he’d never see her again. “You’ve moved back?”

  She turned, walked back to the grove of cottonwoods, and began collecting her things. It was clear she wasn’t happy about the encounter.

  Katiann, bless her, went to Gretchen and took her hand. “What’s wrong, Gretchen? Why are you leaving? Don’t you want to swim some more? Are you sick?”

  Gretchen took a bag down from the tree. “I’m fine. I have things to do.” She opened the bag and pulled out shoes and clothes.

  Before Dirk could think of something to say, she was dressed. He could hardly believe that after all this time, she was here. For years he had looked for her without any luck, even writing to her old friends, but no one knew where she had gone.

  Katiann looked at her father. “Gretchen is so much fun. I think she should come eat supper at our house. She always eats at the Harvey House, but I told her sometime she could come eat with us.”

  “That would be fine,” Dirk murmured.

  Gretchen slipped into her shoes and straightened, her bag in her hand. “I have to go, Katiann. I’ll see you later.” She walked toward the Harvey House without another word.

  “Daddy, you look sad. Are you sad?”

  Dirk sighed and hoisted Katiann onto his shoulder. “I’m not sad. I’m just thinking.”

  “About Gretchen?” she asked innocently.

  He nodded. “Yes. About Gretchen.”

  “I think she’s pretty. Don’t you?”

  Dirk wasn’t sure how much to say. He wanted to explain to Katiann that they had once been close—but if he did, his daughter would just want to know why that was no longer the case.

  “Daddy?” She leaned down to put her face beside his. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

  “I think she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Gretchen’s heart was nearly pounding out of her chest by the time she made it to her second-floor bedroom at the Harvey House. She quickly cleaned up and dressed, then turned on a fan and sat down in front of it.

  Dirk Martinez in the flesh.

  She had believed she’d never see him again. When he’d left her all those years ago, he’d gone without a word of explanation. Just disappeared. The next thing she’d heard was that he had married some woman in Kansas City. Not even a week after she’d been certain he was about to propose to her.

  She let the memory of their last evening surface. All these years she had kept it carefully stuffed down in the deepest well of her mind. But now it was once again at the front of her thoughts, perfectly preserved—still able to wound.

  “You are the most beautiful woman here,” Dirk had told her as he held her in his arms. “The most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Gretchen had basked in the warmth of his attention that chilly night. He had just walked her and Oma back from evening church services. Oma had gone into the house, but Dirk and Gretchen lingered under the starlight.

  She was just eighteen, hardly more than a girl. Dirk was twenty-five and already held an impressive management position with the Santa Fe Railway. His Hispanic father and American mother gave him dark eyes and an exotic presence that caused most women to take a second look. He was also fluent in Spanish, which helped with his job amid the heavily Mexican population.

  They were in love—at least she’d thought they were. She knew she was. And she had been so certain of his feelings for her that she anticipated his proposal any day.

  “I have to go,” he told her. His face was lit by the warm glow of lamplight from the house. “But tomorrow I want to see you again. I want to take you to supper and then, well . . .” He grinned. “I want to discuss something very important.”

  Gretchen felt as if she might faint. The anticipation of what he wanted to say was almost more than she could stand. She’d had other fellas ask her to marry them, but none that she had ever wanted to say yes to. Until now.

  Before he left, Dirk kissed her. It was a gentle, almost chaste kiss, but it held the promise of so much more. Gretchen had started to put her arms around his neck, but Dirk pulled away and took hold of them instead. He kissed each hand, then let her go.

  “Tomorrow,” he whispered and then disappeared into the night.

  She never saw him again. Not until today.

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “Why did you have to come back now, Dirk? Why?”

  Chapter Three

  With the train rush gone, the Harvey House girls still found plenty to do. There were railroad men and townsfolk to feed, as well as tables to set and other jobs to be tended. Gretchen had her hands full making sure the girls stayed on task, but her biggest job had been avoiding Dirk. She didn’t know how to deal with him. Her heart told her that she was still very much in love with him, while her mind reminded her that ten years had passed between them without a word of explanation.

  “Why, Miss Katiann, what are you doing here?” one of the local cowboys asked as the child made her way to one of the counter seats.

  “I came to see Gretchen. How are you?” She arranged her cotton dress.

  “Oh, you know, busy. Hot and busy.”

  Katiann nodded and leaned her elbows on the polished mahogany counter, then put her chin in her hands. “Where’s Bubba D.? You guys are always together.”

  “Had to see to a pool game.”

  “He’s pretty good.”

  Felix laughed. “He’s the best, and you know it.”

  Gretchen decided to interrupt. “Katiann, what brings you to the Harvey House?”

  The girl turned to her with a heartwarming smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.” She turned to Felix. “Do you know Felix? He has horses that swim.”

  Gretchen smiled at the cowboy. “Don’t most horses swim?”

  “Sure, but his like to swim. They swim all the time in the river. He’s got a couple that are so strong, they can swim against the current.”

  Felix nodded. “It’s true.”

  It had been nearly a week, and Gretchen had known she wouldn’t be able to avoid Katiann forever. Thankfully, Gretchen only had to be in San Marcial for another week or two. “Well, I think that’s wonderful, but you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

  Katiann cocked her head to one side as her eyes narrowed. “I did answer. I said I hadn’t seen you in a long time. That’s why I’m here. I was worried you were sick. You left so fast when we were at the river, I figured you had a stomachache or something.”

  “I’m just fine, but I have a job to do and not a lot of free time.”

  Katiann shrugged. “Well, you don’t have to work at night. I asked my daddy, and he said you could come have supper with us.”

  Gretchen felt her cheeks warm. That was the trouble with having a fair complexion. Every moment of embarrassment was a public announcement. “I, ah, we’ll see.”

  The door flew open, and a tall skinny young man bounded inside. He had dark hair and piercing eyes that took in the entire room as if assessing for danger. “Felix, aren’t you done eating yet?”

  Katiann leaned forward. “That’s Bubba D. He works on the ranch with Felix, but he plays pool and makes more money slickerin’ the other fellas out of their wages.”

  “Now, Katiann,” Bubba D. began, “it ain’t slickerin’ when a fella is just playin’ better than everybody else. Ain’t my fault they can’t play as good as me.” He tousled her curls, then took a seat beside her and picked up the menu. “Guess I don’t have much time for lunch. Just pack me up five ham sandwiches. I’ll eat ’em on the ride back.”

  “Five sandwiches?” Gretchen asked, looking at the
skinny kid. “Are you sure that’s all you want?” She tried not to sound sarcastic. It was hard to believe this young man was going to eat five of Harvey’s big ham sandwiches. Why, the ham alone was sliced half an inch thick.

  Bubba D. grinned. “I’d get some pie too, but it’s too messy to take with me.”

  Katiann nodded. “Bubba D. eats a lot.”

  “Yep, and then I work it right back off. You ever try breakin’ horses, Katiann? It’s hard work.” He pulled a bottle of soda from his back pocket.

  The child shrugged and looked at Gretchen. “All the boys work hard around here. J.B. says if a fella sits for more than a minute and isn’t workin’, the devil himself will show up to find him a job.”

  Gretchen smiled. She remembered some of the old men in town imparting similar proverbs when she was Katiann’s age. Some things never changed.

  She got Bubba D.’s sandwiches for him while he finished off his soda. He and Felix paid, then headed out just as a group of men entered. They wore business suits and looked like railroad officials. The last man to come through the door was Dirk.

  “Daddy!” Gretchen moved away from the counter as Katiann jumped from the stool. She ran to her father but waved to one of the other men. “Hey, Mr. West.”

  Gretchen recognized the San Marcial railroad superintendent, B.A. West, but the other men were strangers. That wasn’t unusual. Men were always coming to visit from offices elsewhere. The men took a seat in the dining room, and Gretchen breathed a sigh of relief when Molly, one of the other Harvey Girls, jumped into action, taking drink orders.

  Gretchen finished her duties at the counter and hoped to slip away, but it wasn’t to be. Molly came toward her, looking concerned. “Those men are from Kansas City. There’s some sort of inspection and audit going on. Can you help me?”

  “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

  “Would you go take their orders while I get the drinks? I’ll serve them, but they’re in a hurry.”