Nadine Trades Her Partner

by Linda Hubalek

  “Oh, yes. If you’d like to hang your coat here on the rack, you’re more than welcome. We’ve had a very cold snap, haven’t we?”

  Nadine pulled off her winter gloves, stuck them into the pocket of her coat, and shrugged out of it. She hung it on the tall wooden coat rack Mrs. Smith had pointed out and then smoothed the sides of her skirt with her damp hands out of nervousness.

  “Please come into the living room, and I’ll call my daughter,” Mrs. Smith suggested as she walked out of the room.

  Nadine stared at the young woman who walked back into the room with her mother. She was the spitting image of Wesley. There was no denying the two of them were relatives.

  “Hello, may I help you?”

  “Miss Lucy Smith?” Nadine asked while holding out her hand to make a connection.

  “Yes, I am. And you are...?” Lucy asked.

  “Miss Nadine Paulson from Clear Creek, Kansas,” Nadine said, then bit her lower lip, wondering how in the world she was going to tell the woman she had a brother.

  “Please have a seat, Miss Paulson, and tell me why you’re here,” Lucy started before she gestured for Nadine to sit on the settee before sitting down herself beside Nadine.

  “Clear Creek, Kansas?” a man asked as he walked into the living room beside Mrs. Smith.

  “Yes, sir,” Nadine answered, realizing this was probably Mr. Smith, who wrote back to Wesley, telling him to never contact Lucy.

  “And where’s Clear Creek?” a younger man followed behind the couple and walked to stand behind Lucy and the settee.

  “Forgive my nosy brother, Chet, and my father, Arthur Smith,” Lucy waved at the two men. “Please proceed.”

  “Clear Creek is in central Kansas, near Ellsworth, if you know about old cow towns. My family owns the Paulson Hotel in town, and I’m here about one of our employees.”

  “And I wrote back clearing up that matter, Miss Paulson,” Mr. Smith said in a tone that meant she was not to say anything else.

  “Whatever are you talking about, Arthur? And why are you so rude to Lucy’s guest?” Mrs. Smith stared at her husband.

  Nadine closed her eyes a moment to think. It was very possible that Lucy didn’t know about her past, but then maybe her adopted parents didn’t either.

  Nadine pulled her satchel onto her lap and took out Ann’s journal and a photograph. Then she turned to address Lucy.

  “I came to tell you about your brother, Miles Wesley, Jr.,” Nadine stated, ignoring the upsetting looks Mr. Smith was sending her.

  “I don’t have another brother, Miss Paulson,” Lucy shrugged her shoulder.

  Nadine watched as Lucy’s parents glanced at the other with alarm.

  She opened Ann’s journal to the page showing Wesley’s adoption date and turned the journal to show Lucy the entry.

  “The Children’s Aid Society brought many children from New York City to Kansas. On March 12, 1873, Miles Wesley, Jr, son of the late Miles and Lucinda Wesley, was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Preston, rural Shawnee County, Kansas.

  Nadine turned to the next page she had marked. Mrs. Smith was holding her breath, and Mr. Smith was scowling, but neither stopped Nadine.

  “See this entry? ‘November 11, 1873. Lucy Wesley. Daughter of the late Miles and Lucinda Wesley.’ But the names of the people who adopted Lucy aren’t legible, but the town they lived in, Kansas City, Kansas, is clear.”

  “That’s my birthday,” Lucy slowly said before looking up at her mother.

  “We didn’t know your real birthdate, dear, so we celebrate the day you came into our lives.”

  Nadine shut her eyes, embarrassed that she was the one to confirm they didn’t know Lucy’s real birthdate. She’d love to slip out the door, but she was here for Wesley’s sake.

  “We celebrate the day Lucy became our daughter, and that’s the date it will always be,” Mr. Smith stated before he turned toward Nadine.

  “And how, Miss Paulson, do we know you’re telling us the truth about this man?”

  “Please look at this portrait as I give you more information,” Nadine said as she pulled out the photograph she had in her satchel and handed it to Lucy.

  “Why that’s Toad Billings,” Chet said in surprise as he looked over Lucy’s shoulder. “I know all these fellows. We were in the army together at Fort Riley.”

  “Did you say, Toad ?” Mr. Smith asked as he and his wife crowded up to study the photograph.

  “This group all had nicknames since the time they came together on an orphan train to Kansas,” Chet said as he looked up at Nadine before studying the men again.

  “There’s Toad or Tobin Billings. Possum or Peter Gehring, brothers Barton, Gordon, and Squires Miller were known as Badger, Gopher, Squirrel...and Weasel, or Wesley Preston.”

  Lucy gasped. “He looks just like me! Is that Miles Wesley?”

  “I bet it is. The group has stuck together since their trip on the orphan train, growing up in the same area and enlisting in the army at the same time. A fine group of men. Are they still in? I left the service about a year ago,” Chet commented.

  “They left the army late summer after their five years of service was up. They all settled in Clear Creek. Peter Gehring, or Possum as you called him, married my sister, Avalee. This portrait of the six men was taken recently at a wedding reception.”

  “Is Miles, or I should say, Wesley, married?” Lucy asked.

  “No, but the other five men are.”

  “How did you get this journal?” Mrs. Smith asked.

  “Earlier this fall, two agents and three orphans from the society happened to be on the train when it had an accident near Clear Creek. One agent was killed, and the other agent, Miss Ann Beasley, suffered two broken arms. She is convalescing in an apartment in the back of Peter Gehring’s barbershop building.

  “This is Miss Beasley’s journal of the children she’s placed over the years. She remembered Tobin Billing’s red hair and nickname and realized she had placed the boys on one of her first trips west. Then Wesley asked about you, Lucy, and she found your name.”

  “If the name was smeared, how did he find me?” Lucy asked.

  “Wesley wrote letters to people who had adopted children the same day.”

  “Papa, how did you find out someone was looking for me then?” Lucy asked.

  “The Rutter’s had received a letter and passed it on to me. I assumed it was a hoax or trying to get money out of us, so I wrote back to Mr. Preston to not contact us again,” Mr. Smith explained. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I was just trying to protect you. We didn’t know you had a biological brother.”

  “I can’t believe it . A brother I didn’t know about. And to think you knew him, Chet,” Lucy got the words out before her face started to crumble with emotion.

  Nadine stood up and moved out of the way when Mrs. Smith moved in to sit down and hug her daughter as Lucy sobbed. Mr. Smith and Chet put their hands on Lucy’s shoulders to comfort her also.

  It was a bit embarrassing to watch the family absorb the news, but at the same time, Nadine was relieved to find out Lucy had apparently had a good life with her adopted family.

  Nadine wandered around the room to look at photos on the wall and mantel to give the family time to themselves.

  There were several large portraits of Chet and Lucy at different stages in their lives. The oldest photo of Lucy was probably about the age she was adopted and when Wesley would have last seen her.

  “Well, now I feel like I’ve gained a son looking at Wesley’s face,” Mrs. Smith commented, and so Nadine went back to join the group.

  “Did Wesley have a good childhood too?” the woman asked, smiling now after the shock of the news had worn off.

  “Wesley was adopted by an elderly farming couple, but from what he’s told me, it wasn’t a loving household, nor did he have any siblings. When the couple died, they left the farm to his nephew instead of Wesley, which has further soured his feelings toward them.”

  “I’m so
rry to hear that. I’m guessing it was the same situation for the group of orphans Lucy was in. Some had good lives, and others haven’t, sad to say,” Mr. Smith said.

  “I’m happy to say I was very lucky when my parents adopted me,” Lucy said as she squeezed her mother’s shoulder. “I just wish Wesley could have been adopted with me at the same time.”

  “Me too, dear, but we could go meet him and welcome him to our family,” Mrs. Smith said as she looked up to her husband for his approval.

  “Yes, I owe the young man an apology. We should travel to Clear Creek as soon as possible. Chet, shall we see if the staff can handle the hotel without us for a few days?”

  Things were happening faster than Nadine could keep up with. She just found Lucy and her family, and now they were planning a trip to Clear Creek to meet him?

  “Nadine, we own and manage the Smith Hotel near here,” Chet explained to Nadine before turning back to Mr. Smith. “I think we could go anytime you want to.”

  “But would that be inconvenient to show up on Thanksgiving?” Lucy asked.

  “Not at all. Clear Creek has a community meal that day at the hotel, and you’re now invited to attend. I’m sure my parents will be happy for you to stay at the hotel and will give Wesley time off for you to be together,” Lucy said with confidence.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see my brother! Thank you, Papa and Mama, for wanting to meet him too,” Lucy was beaming now with excitement.

  “I only feel comfortable about it since Chet knew the man. There would have been more correspondence if it was not the case,” Mr. Smith told his daughter.

  “I look forward to seeing old friends again too. I’m glad you brought that photograph along, Miss Paulson,” Chet nodded to her.

  Everything aligned for Wesley to meet his sister. Now Nadine hoped he’d forgive her for going behind his back and traveling to Kansas City to meet Lucy first.

  Chapter 12

  The smell of the roasting turkeys wafted through the hotel this morning as they baked in the kitchen’s ovens. He noted at breakfast that one table in the dining room already held an assortment of pies, baked and delivered by women in the community. He’d be sure to find out which pie came from Millie Wilerson and try to get a piece from it. Mrs. Wilerson was known as the best dessert maker in town.

  Nadine, on the other hand, was known as the worst pie baker, at least among his friends. She made apple pies and brought them for their group suppers when the men first arrived in town and met the six women. Because Nadine grew up in the hotel, she’d never had to bake or cook meals as the family always ate in the dining room or hotel kitchen. Bless her heart for trying to contribute to their group meals, though. Tobin always sprinkled more sugar on his piece of pie and claimed it was edible. No way Wesley could get past the burnt pie crust, though.

  “Wesley Preston! It’s good to see you again!”

  Wesley looked up from the check-in desk, realizing he’d been daydreaming and not paying attention to a group walking in the hotel door.

  “Chet Smith!” Wesley said in surprise as he walked around the desk to greet his old army friend. They shook hands, clapping each other on their backs at the same time.

  “Welcome to Clear Creek, Chet. What are you doing in town on Thanksgiving, of all days?”

  “We were invited,” his friend grinned as he waved his arm to the rest of his party. An older couple and a young woman were still bundled up from their cold walk from the depot.

  “Invited? By who? I didn’t realize you knew anyone in town,” Wesley asked as the older man cleared his throat, causing Chet to look to him.

  “I’d like you to meet my parents Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Smith, and my sister, Lucy,” Chet introduced his group to Wesley.

  Wesley shook Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s hands but paused to stare at the young woman.

  “You look so much like... Do I know you, Miss Smith?” Wesley asked, perplexed at his reaction to the woman.

  “My name was Lucy Wesley before I was adopted by this wonderful couple,” the woman said as she stared at him.

  Her words confused Wesley, but the face reminded him of a long-ago image.

  “Lucy ? As in my little sister? How in the world —” Wesley stuttered as the young woman held out her arms to greet him.

  “Lucy! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wesley hoarsely whispered to his little sister as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He felt her tears dampen the left shoulder of his shirt as they clung together. It had been so long, but that was now past them.

  “Welcome to the Paulson Hotel, Mr. and Mrs. Smith and family. Your rooms are ready,” Wesley heard Ethan greet the guests. How did Ethan know they were coming to the hotel and needed rooms?

  Wesley pulled back, looking at the people in the lobby surrounding him now.

  Besides Ethan and Helen standing at the check-in counter, Cecilia and Phoebe stood nearby on the first step of the stairway. Their grins told Wesley they knew about the Smith’s visit.

  “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my employers, Ethan and Helen Paulson and the youngest of their eight daughters, Cecilia and Phoebe.”

  Wesley proudly watched as the group shook hands and made pleasantries.

  “Okay, girls. Spill the beans. How did you find Lucy and her family and invite them for Thanksgiving?”

  Both girls clamped their mouths tight and looked up toward the ceiling.

  “Actually, it was Miss Nadine Paulson who visited and invited us,” Mr. Smith answered his question. “I’m sorry I wrote back telling you not to contact me again. But Miss Paulson had proof with an agent’s journal and a photo that you were telling the truth.”

  “What photo?” Wesley asked, not figuring out how any photograph would help convince this man he was Lucy’s brother.

  “Nadine had a photo of you and your five friends taken at a wedding reception. I recognized Toad first, of course,” Chet chuckled. “I can’t wait to see everyone again. Miss Paulson said they’d all be at the community Thanksgiving dinner today.”

  “And how did Nadine find out where you lived, although I’m mighty glad she did?” Wesley couldn’t figure out how Nadine figured out the Smith’s had adopted Lucy.

  “You can ask Nadine about it later, Wesley,” Helen told him. “Please visit with your guests, and we’ll see you all at the noon dinner.”

  With that suggestion, Wesley showed his sister and her family upstairs to their rooms. He’d corner Nadine later.

  ***

  “Wesley, I’m sorry I don’t remember you, but I’m glad you remembered me,” Lucy said as they ate their Thanksgiving meal.

  “He talked about wanting to find you for years, Miss Lucy,” Tobin answered as he cut up the turkey slice on his son, Tommy’s plate. “He always wanted to find you.”

  Last night Wesley had set up a room full of tables pushed together to make long rows of seating to accommodate the crowd of people enjoying the community meal. Turkeys had been baked in the hotel kitchen and in the Clancy Café’s kitchen for the meal. Then other people brought mashed potatoes, vegetables, bread, and of course, pies.

  Helen had passed around a list at church last Sunday to get a rough count of how many people would be attending and what they would bring. The woman was organized, and that trait had passed down to her daughters, who were all helping with today’s event, whether it was to keep everyone’s coffee cup full or refilling the gravy boats.

  Wesley tuned out the conversation around him. Tobin, Molly, and their boys sitting across from himself, Lucy, and Chet. Their other friends were on either side of them, all enjoying catching up with Chet and discussing their time together in the army.

  He watched a smiling Nadine as she talked to people around the tables on the opposite side of the room. Oh, she’d visited with Chet, Lucy, and her parents, but she’d been avoided speaking to him directly. Wesley would wait to talk to her this evening, somewhere in the hotel where they could talk in private. And where would that be without a littl
e sister eavesdropping on them? His apartment behind locked doors.

  “I like how this community does things together. What’re their plans for Christmas?” Chet asked, and Wesley turned his attention back to those visiting around them.

  “My wife would be one to answer that, but Avalee’s busying playing hostess with her family,” Gordon said as he tracked her movement across the room. Avalee had sat with them to eat but then left as soon as she saw something in the room that needed her attention.

  “Christmas is a wonderful time in town,” Amelia Miller chimed in. “The season starts off with the school children’s Christmas program, held here in the hotel to accommodate the whole community. Of course, refreshments are served afterward.”

  “We always came in from the ranch to attend church service on Christmas eve,” Molly added as she wiped Tim’s chin. “Afterwards, we’ve usually stayed in town overnight with Uncle Adam and Aunt Millie and opened gifts with our cousins in the morning.”

  “All ten of you in their small house?” Tobin asked. “How’d you managed that?”

  “My parents and grandparents slept in our cousin’s bedrooms, and all us kids slept downstairs together on a pile of quilts and pillows,” Molly shrugged.

  “When’s the last Christmas you did that?” Tobin asked.

  Maggie laughed, where she sat a few seats down from her sister. “Last year,” Maggie answered Tobin. “Shall we show up at Aunt Millie’s again with our five children in tow, Molly?”

  “I think Aunt Millie would prefer we start a new tradition this year instead of bringing our husbands and children along,” Maisie, the youngest sister, added to the conversation.

  Wesley felt Lucy’s hand on his arm and looked over to her.

  “What were your Christmases like with the Preston’s?” Lucy asked softly to keep the conversation between them.

  “Chores. The Preston’s usually went to church, but I stayed home to tend to the livestock,” Wesley quietly answered back.

  “I hope you’ve had good holidays with the Smith’s,” Wesley quickly said so Lucy wouldn’t feel sorry for him.

  “I have wonderful memories from each Christmas. Besides presents, I received a new glass or tin ornament each year to hang on our Christmas tree. When I marry and have my own house, I’ll hang those ornaments on my first Christmas tree.”