by Ann Shorey
The two women exchanged a look.
“Do you think he heard us about the pie?” Cassie whispered.
“I doubt it. Can’t think why he’d come in here now, though. We generally don’t see much of him until the breakfast rush is over.”
Cassie knew why. He was checking up on her. Another mistake and she’d surely lose her job.
12
Jacob sat at the table in his office reviewing ledger totals. In the background, subdued murmurs of conversation filtered through the dining room wall. He seldom came to the restaurant on Sundays, but today was the last day of May. His report and accompanying bank draft would be posted first thing tomorrow. Mr. Byrne could take his modern ideas and line a birdcage with them.
“Mr. West?” The cook’s voice brought him back to the moment. “I brought you a bite to eat.” Mrs. Fielder set a sandwich and a piece of pie on the table.
He swiveled in his chair. “You made pie? Ginger cake is what I wrote on the menu board.” Then he recognized how ungrateful he sounded. “Sorry. I mean, thank you.”
She responded with a grin. “Try the pie and tell me what you think.”
Mrs. Fielder had a heavy hand with pastry. To please her, he cut off a bite and popped it in his mouth, not expecting much.
Juicy chunks of apple surrounded by sweet cinnamon-flavored sauce swept over his tongue. Flaky crust crumbled as he chewed. He stared at the cook. “This is the best pie you’ve ever made.” He forked a larger bite.
“Miss Haddon baked this yesterday. She’s been practicing. I didn’t tell her I planned to give you some.”
He dropped the fork to the plate. “She’s been practicing?”
“The poor girl was heartsick at the way her pies turned out. She’s afraid you’ll dismiss her.” Mrs. Fielder folded her arms over her chest. “So she’s been making little pies, day after day, until she got the feel of it. I thought it was time you knew.”
Afraid she’d be dismissed? No wonder Miss Haddon found a reason to leave the room whenever he visited the kitchen. “That happened a couple of weeks ago. You don’t mean she’s been worrying about her job ever since?”
“Well, why wouldn’t she? She’s right proud of renting that little cabin. Without what you pay her, where would they go?”
He leaned back in his chair and studied Mrs. Fielder’s flushed face. “What do you think I should do?”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?”
After she left, he stared at his half-eaten slice of pie. Admiration for Miss Haddon’s persistence glowed within him. He’d never met anyone quite like her.
He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering whether he dared to get to know her better.
Late Monday afternoon, Cassie stood at a worktable rolling out a small circle of piecrust to fit over the filling in a seven-inch pie plate. She glanced at Jenny.
“I’ll slip this in the oven with the biscuits at suppertime. If it turns out well—”
“Of course it’ll turn out well. For the past week every pie has been perfect. When are you going to tell Mr. West?” Her tone held a challenge.
“I don’t think he cares. He said for you to do the baking.”
Their employer appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. “You don’t think I care about what?”
Cassie startled, then tossed a clean towel over the unbaked pie. “Um, whether we have biscuits or cornbread tonight?” She noticed that the round pan showed beneath the towel, and bunched a corner to disguise the shape.
A grin creased his face. He stepped over to the worktable. “So, what’s under there? Biscuits or cornbread?”
She shot an alarmed glance at Jenny, who met her gaze with a smile and an encouraging nod. “Tell him,” she mouthed.
Cassie hung her head. “No, sir, it’s an apple pie.” She flipped the towel aside. “If you’re worried about the expense, please take it out of my pay.”
“I won’t do anything of the kind. I was much too hasty the other day, and I’m sorry. Mrs. Fielder brought me a sample last night. It was perfect. Would you consider making pies for our customers—please?”
“Oh, yes, I will!” She wanted to shout for joy, but instead cast him a shy smile. “Th . . . thank you for giving me another chance.”
She looked into his dark brown eyes and saw more than an employer. The warmth in his gaze brought a flush to her cheeks.
The sky glowed brilliant orange as Cassie left the restaurant that evening. When she reached the corner of High Street, she glanced west in time to see a halo of light reflected on the horizon following the descent of the sun behind the hills. How appropriate—the heavens were celebrating with her.
Assuming customers liked her pies as much as Mr. West did, she hoped her job at the restaurant would be secure. For the first time in her life, she’d be accepted as a competent, productive person. She hugged her arms around her middle. Best of all, she’d earned Mr. West’s admiration. If she kept a journal, she’d put a star beside today.
Her steps light, she crossed the street and followed the gravel path that led to her cabin behind Mr. Slocum’s house. Flowers hung like tassels on his lilac bush. Reaching up, she broke off a cluster and brought it to her nose, savoring the fruity-sweet fragrance. As soon as she entered the cabin, she’d put the sprig in water to celebrate this day.
Mother greeted her at the door. She wore her wrapper with a towel draped over her shoulders, her long hair hanging loose over her back. The earthy smell of henna filled the air.
Another good sign. Mother was taking an interest in her appearance again.
“I thought you’d never get here. I have the best news!” Mother clutched her hand and tugged her into the room. “A letter came from the railroad today. Rand is in Calusa. We can go there as soon as we get tickets.”
The lilac bloom fell from her fingers. Jacob had apologized, given her another chance, and then promised so much more with his eyes. Her heart fluttered when she pictured the look he’d given her. Now her mother wanted to leave?
“Just think. You won’t have to work for that grocer anymore. I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Mother clasped her hands. “Rand will take care of us. Our future will be secure.”
Glancing inside the bedroom, Cassie noticed the open trunk, and a plain blue blanket covering their bed. Not the thistle quilt. “You’ve started packing already?” She stepped into the room. The quilt was folded inside the trunk, along with their extra linens.
“Of course I have. The train for Calusa departs around nine in the morning. I checked.” Mother followed her to the doorway. “You can pack everything but your traveling clothes tonight, then go to the restaurant tomorrow and tell that Mr. West we’re leaving.”
Cassie teetered on decision’s ledge. Her thoughts spun. She’d vowed to honor her mother, but she was content here. More than content, happy.
Drawing a deep breath, she squeezed her hand over the cold metal clasp on the trunk’s domed lid. Her mother hadn’t been this animated since they left St. Louis.
Cassie released her grip on the clasp. Steps dragging, she crossed to the pegs where her two better dresses hung. Setting the plaid taffeta aside for the journey, she laid her rose chintz over the bed and folded the yards of fabric into a rectangle compact enough to fit inside the trunk’s maw. The process brought an uncomfortable reminder of the night they’d packed to leave St. Louis.
Then, she’d had no skills. Now, leaving meant a return to living under an uncle’s roof and abandoning all she’d accomplished. Blinking back tears, she mentally erased the star she’d planned to put next to today in her imaginary journal.
13
Cassie drew a steadying breath and surveyed the main room of her cabin. The cups and plates she’d purchased rested on a shelf next to several glass tumblers. Gingham curtains framed the windows with bright blue checks. A single lamp glowed in the center of the table, its light illuminating the lilac sprig lying on the floor next to one of the chairs.
> She brushed past her mother and filled one of the tumblers, then seized the purple bloom and thrust it into the water.
“I can’t do it. I’m not leaving.”
Mother narrowed her eyes. “Of course you are.”
“No.”
“What’s happened to you? I’ve spent more than a month looking for my brother, and now that I’ve found him you stand in my way.” Her mother sank onto the edge of the bed.
The straw tick rustled when Cassie sat next to her. She laid a gentle hand over her mother’s. “I didn’t say you couldn’t go. I said I’m not going.”
“It’s the same thing. You know I don’t have money for a ticket.”
“I’ll buy your ticket.” Her stomach lurched at the thought of depleting her funds with the rent due soon, but she stiffened her resolve. “I’m glad you found Uncle Rand. Nevertheless, I’m content here in Noble Springs, and here’s where I want to stay.”
“Do you expect me to make that trip alone? I could be robbed, or worse.”
Robbed of what? Cassie wanted to ask, but didn’t. She blew out a lengthy sigh. “All right. I’ll accompany you to Calusa. But as soon as you’re settled with Uncle Rand, I’m coming back home.”
Home. The word was a balm to her soul. For the first time since the war, she’d found a place that felt like home. Here’s where she’d stay.
Then the thought of purchasing two train tickets—one for a round-trip—intruded. Plus she’d earn no salary for several days. And as if things weren’t bad enough, tomorrow she’d have to go to Mr. West and tell him her plans.
On Tuesday morning, Cassie entered West & Riley’s kitchen with hesitant steps. Her green plaid traveling dress swished when she crossed the floor to Jenny’s side.
The cook’s eyes rounded. She placed the bowl of eggs she held on a worktable and surveyed Cassie’s attire. “You’re fancy today. What if you spill something on that pretty dress?”
“I’m not staying.” Tears stung her eyelids. “I’m so sorry to leave you with all the work. Mother found her brother, finally. We’re taking the train to Calusa in a couple of hours.”
“Oh no!” Jenny grabbed Cassie’s hand and led her to a chair. “You can’t just up and leave.” She dabbed her eyes with a corner of her apron. “Never mind about the work. I’ll miss you. You’ve made the days here a pleasure.”
“Please don’t cry. I plan to return as soon as Mother is settled.”
“Good for you! I knew you had spirit.” A frown etched her forehead. “You’ll need it when you talk to Mr. West. He’s not going to be pleased.”
“I know. Is he here?”
“In the grocery.”
Cassie gazed at the pie plates stacked in front of her and swallowed disappointment. Her dream would have to wait a few days.
“I’d better go see him before I lose my courage.” She squeezed Jenny’s hand, then rose and marched toward the grocery.
Mr. West’s welcoming smile faded the moment he noticed her dress. “Miss Haddon? You look lov—very nice, but that’s a strange choice for a workday.”
“I’m sorry.” She bit her lip. “I’m not dressed for work today. Mother found her brother—in Calusa—and we’re taking the train there in a couple of hours. I promised I’d accompany her.” She knew her words ran together. Pausing, she willed herself to slow down. “I know I shouldn’t be asking for more favors, but she’s my mother, and I owe her honor.”
A perplexed expression crossed his face. “You owe her? How can you leave when I—when we need you here? Seems like you’ve already done more for your mother than could be expected. Now you’re going to run off to Calusa.”
As his voice lowered, her heartbeat increased. She wished she could say she’d changed her mind, just to see a smile reappear on his face.
“Only for a few days. As soon as she’s settled I’ll come right back.”
He shook his head. “We’ll see. With respect, you seem to be tied to her apron strings more than most.”
“I hoped you’d understand. How could I say no?”
“You’re the only one who can answer that. Have a safe journey, Miss Haddon.” He turned away from her and began stacking tins of condensed milk on a shelf.
She glared at his back and then flounced out of the store, telling herself she’d enjoy every moment out of his unreasonable presence.
Cassie waited next to her mother at the ticket window inside the train depot. Through the open door, she watched Elijah heft their trunk onto a baggage cart. For Mother to ask for his help in the midst of office hours took more nerve than she’d ever have believed her mother possessed. There seemed to be no stopping her once she had Uncle Rand in her sights.
“Calusa’s the end of the line, ladies.” The ticket agent’s voice drew her attention back inside the depot. “If you want to go farther west, you’ll have to take the stage.”
Mother smiled at him. “Calusa’s the end of my search. We’re not going any farther.”
He grunted and handed them their tickets. “You ought to get there around four this afternoon, depending on how many folks get on and off at the stops. You can board any time now.”
“Thank you.” Cassie swept the tickets into her handbag and hurried out to Elijah.
“I can’t thank you enough for fetching our trunk for us.” She hoped he could see the apology in her eyes. “I had no idea Mother had imposed on you to such a degree.”
“Took only a few minutes. I know you’ll be happy to see her settled.” He glanced toward a passenger car where a conductor assisted her mother up the steps, then turned his attention back to Cassie. “Rosemary’s sorry she couldn’t come to see you off, but she’s staying close to home these days.” He grinned. “Doctor’s orders.”
Another reason to be glad she’d found the little cabin. As soon as she and Mother left Elijah and Rosemary’s home, they’d converted their spare room to a nursery. Elijah’s mother’s rocking chair waited in one corner, and pink, blue, and yellow ruffles adorned the cradle. Any day now Rosemary would hold her infant in her arms.
The train whistle blew. Steam whooshed from beneath the engine. Cassie held out her hand and Elijah clasped it between his. “Hurry back.”
“Indeed I will.” She dashed for the passenger car.
When she stepped through the entrance, Mother stood and waved to her from a seat halfway down the length of the crowded car. Making her way along the center aisle, Cassie took note of their fellow travelers. Families with small children, older couples, and several cigar-smoking men who leered at her. Salesmen, she guessed. She quickened her pace.
Slipping onto the wooden seat next to her mother, she noticed a dignified-looking gentleman across the aisle. His black suit and black cravat suggested preacher. He nodded at her when he caught her gaze, then turned his attention back to a book he held in his lap as the train jerked into motion.
Coal smoke twisted through half-open windows, adding a sulfurous tinge to the effluvium from the salesmen’s cigars. She coughed and held a handkerchief to her nose.
In contrast, her mother relaxed against the seat back, smiling. “Just think. In a few hours I’ll see my brother. I was beginning to despair.”
Cassie lowered the handkerchief. “Do you know where to meet him?”
“Not exactly. Mr. Dunkle—the man who wrote to me—said Rand was employed as a grader on the line. He did say the workmen’s housing was close to the tracks. He also said Calusa is a new town, built because of the railroad. So it shouldn’t be hard to locate my brother there.”
Eyebrows raised, Cassie stared at her mother, wishing she’d asked her question earlier. She’d been so focused on what she’d say to Mr. West that she’d forgotten how vague Mother could be with details.
The train clickity-clacked around a bend and rolled west. A grove of oak trees blocked her view of the track ahead.
Dust devils blew along deserted streets. Instead of a station house, the town’s only identification was a square sign readi
ng CALUSA next to a telegrapher’s shack. From her vantage point on the train’s platform, Cassie counted eight frame buildings and several shanties across the broad street. Telegraph wires overhead hummed in the wind.
A man jumped from the baggage car and dropped their trunk on the dusty boards, then glanced around, apparently seeking waiting passengers. Seeing none, he hopped back through the open doors. Steam shot from beneath the wheels as the engineer guided the train along the track to the wye junction, then backed the cars to the turning point. Once he had clearance, the engine rolled east along the turn, taking the train toward Noble Springs.
Cassie looked up and down the platform for someone to assist them with their trunk. By the time they’d reached Calusa, all other passengers save the gentleman across the aisle had disembarked at various towns along the way.
Mother clapped her hand over her hat. “Let’s get out of this wind before we’re blown away.” She pointed at a square building facing them across the street. A sign painted over the doorway read RESTAURANT, but no light shone through the dingy windows. “We’ll ask inside where the workers are housed.”
“We can’t just leave our trunk here.” Cassie cast a dubious glance at the weathered structure.
“Pardon me, ladies. Is someone coming to meet you?” The man in preacher’s garb stopped next to them and dropped his valise at his feet.
“I’m here to join my brother. He isn’t expecting me, but I imagine the proprietor of the restaurant will tell me where he is,” Mother replied in a dismissive tone, then turned away and took Cassie’s arm. “Excuse us, please.”
Cassie glanced between their trunk and the stranger. With no depot and no stationmaster, she had to trust someone. He looked safe enough. Ignoring her mother’s frown, she tugged her arm free.
“Do you know who might look after our trunk until we find my uncle? I hesitate to leave it sitting here.”
“I’d be pleased to offer my services.” He swept off his hat, revealing sparse white hair circling the crown of his head. “Reverend Alfred Greeley,” he said in a voice that Cassie felt sure would carry to the rear of a crowded sanctuary. “And may I know your names?”