by Rue Allyn
Edith squared her shoulders and swallowed. Her friend hoped for an announcement that the marriage with Dutch would not be annulled. Eileen was destined to be disappointed. “I must leave with all possible speed for the Wyoming Territory.”
The stunned look on all four faces told the tale that no one had expected this news.
“Why?” Dutch didn’t shout.
His calm surprised Edith, and she replied directly to him.
“Because that’s Kiera’s last known location. Finding her is the reason that I came to San Francisco, and one of the reasons that I cannot remain married to you.”
“Finding your sister has no bearing on our marriage. Of course you must find her. I’ll go with you.” His voice was level, and his tone equitable.
Now three faces wore shocked expressions.
Edith noticed the whiteness around his knuckles where his fist clenched on his thigh. She admired his control.
“This is rather sudden,” concern tightened Marcus’s voice. “The firm is just getting back on its feet. We really can’t afford to have you leave, Dutch.”
“My wife needs to find her sister. You know how I feel about family, Marcus. How can I not go with Edith?”
“I understand, but you have a commitment to our business as well. Everything Eileen and I have is invested in the company. If it fails because you hare off to Wyoming, we’ll be penniless.”
“You’re asking me to choose you over Edith. Would you choose Eileen over me, if the roles were reversed?”
“You don’t have a wife and child.” Marcus’s objection was aggressive.
Dutch stiffened. “You don’t have a child.”
“Actually,” Eileen announced with proud volume. “We will.”
Edith leaned over to hug her friend. “That’s wonderful. When is the baby due?”
“I’m sorry to spoil your news, Eileen,” Dutch’s voice rose. “But I won’t have a wife or child if I can’t support Edith’s search for her sister.”
Edith cringed at the rising tempers.
“Enough!” The shout came from Trey. “There’s a simple solution to this problem that will at least buy some time.”
All eyes turned on him.
“Edith should hire Pinkertons to look for her sister. We have men in the area already. It shouldn’t take more than a week or two before she’s found.”
“Out of the question,” she refused. “Kiera’s wanted for murder here in San Francisco. Pinkertons be obligated to turn her over to the law.”
“Then I’ll contact Father Conroy tomorrow morning,” said Dutch, “and arrange for the church ceremony before we leave.”
Edith ground her teeth and wondered how she could love such a bullheaded man. “No, please don’t. I’ve wanted an annulment from the moment we agreed to marry.”
“Because of your sister. The ceremony will only delay us a bit.”
“I have other reasons.” She, sighed and her shoulders slumped.
“What are they?” His gaze narrowed, and his shoulders seemed to expand. Clearly he felt ready to counter all arguments.
She looked around the room. “I care about and trust all of you, but I’d prefer to discuss this in private. Perhaps we should take a turn in the garden.”
“That’s fine with me.” Dutch stood and held out his hand.
She stood too, placing her hand in his. “If you’ll excuse us.”
• • •
They wandered a path to the back of the garden where Dutch seated Edith in the shelter of a rose arbor. The moon cast light on her troubled expression. He wanted to kiss the worry away. Unable to resist he gave her a soft sweet kiss filled with all the longing he had. “No matter what you tell me, I will always love you.”
He believed he knew what she had to say. However, if he yielded to the urges that always rose at her mere presence, he’d never hear her, and they would never be able to remove her objections into the life they should live together. He took a small folding knife from his pocket and trimmed a partially furled bloom with several inches of stalk from the vine covering the arbor. He offered the rose to Edith. “Careful of the thorns.”
“Thank you.” He folded the knife and returned it to his pocket, then sat at her feet. “What do you need to say that can’t be said in front of our friends and my brother?”
Edith plucked at the half furled blossom and tore off a petal. “You deserve to know my reasons for insisting on the annulment.”
“Your trust makes me happy.”
“I’ve trusted my life to you since you rescued the kittens from that alleyway, but I haven’t had much opportunity to talk with you quietly like this. We’re usually too busy with, er, other activities.”
Dutch grinned. “I’m just as guilty as you then. I have a hard time keeping my hands off of you. Which is why I’m sitting over here and not over there. Believe me, it isn’t easy.”
A second petal followed the first to the ground. “What I have to say isn’t easy, either.”
“So let’s get it over with.”
He waited.
She ripped a third red disc from the rose.
“I can’t remain married because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? But last night … ”
Her lips turned in a brief, wan smile. “Not that. I’m afraid that maintaining our marriage would be for all the wrong reasons.”
Another petal drifted to the ground.
“I love you. You love me. There are no other reasons worth marrying for.”
“I agree, but I hurt you deeply by not telling you the complete truth.”
“We’ve talked about that. I understand why you acted as you did, and I know you never intended to hurt me. Though I still can’t fathom why you or any woman would take such a risk as you did bargaining with Cerise Duval.”
“I didn’t know how duplicitous she was before. I do now though. Duval duped me. I was so eager to have things my way that I made it easy for her to use me. I was desperate to find Kiera. I had traced her to Duval’s bordello. I thought if I was staying in the house, I might have opportunity to search for more information.”
He watched her rip off three more petals. He didn’t understand the problem. They’d been over this ground before, and he still wanted to be Edith’s husband. There had to be something else. That simple fact hurt. He could well imagine the possibilities, but he wanted Edith to say the words herself.
“It was the will that made you desperate enough to seek out Madame Duval.”
“That and the fact that Kiera would have no chance to choose her own destiny. I also knew that the three of us were stronger together. If we were to face down Grandfather and his attorneys and get that will changed, all of us needed to be present.”
“You’ve told me your grandfather was a cruel, insensitive man. However, a will like his is crazy, and by letting it guide your actions, you allow your grandfather to control your life.”
She told him again of her grandfather’s autocratic temperament and explained the clerk’s mistake. She told him about the years of living as the ward of a man as merciless as the Chinaman had been vicious. She reiterated that her grandfather was in a coma, making any change in the will impossible unless he recovered. She revealed her fear for her sisters and the loss of her own independence.
The rose petals wept to the ground until they formed a blood red pool around her feet. In her hands she held nothing but thorns.
“And you think any of that makes a difference to me?”
“No, what I think is that despite your willingness to forgive you will not be able to forget. You will always doubt my motives for remaining married to you, as I would always doubt your reasons for staying in this marriage with me. Those doubts would kill our love just as surely as your need to manage my life, and I cannot again live under the thumb of a man’s rule.”
“Even a man you love?”
“Especially a man I love. That love could be used against me at any time. The simple possibility m
akes my stomach churn.”
Dutch stood. He took the thorny stalk, broke it in two, ignoring the small agonies as the thorns pierced his skin and tossing the stalk away. Then he scooped the petals from the ground, giving them to Edith. “If you imagine that I would toy with your love to keep you under my thumb, then you don’t really understand love, Edith Trahern. You can think of those petals as the pieces of the heart that you’ve torn from my chest and crushed.” He turned and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
From the window of the bedroom they’d shared, Dutch sipped at a glass of whiskey and watched Edith leave. He understood her concern for her sisters. She loved them and wanted the best for them. Didn’t she care that he loved her too and only wanted what was best for her? Yet she turned a deaf ear.
Her sisters were more important than his love for her.
She was headed for the ferry that would take her to the Central Pacific Railroad passenger terminal the Oakland Mole. The first stop on the journey that would carry her away from him.
He watched her drop her carpet bags beside the dray wagon loaded with her trunk, shake hands with Marcus and Trey, then hug Eileen, Tsung, and Lijun in quick succession. Tsung moved back dabbing at her eyes with a corner of her apron. Edith stepped up onto the wagon seat, her posture stiff and straight.
Dutch couldn’t see her face, and he wondered, did she hurt as much as he did? With every moment that separated them, were the pieces of her shredded heart shriveling and turning to granite shards?
The driver tossed the bags into the bed of the buckboard then swung up beside her.
As he gathered the reins, she lifted her face, almost as if she were searching the upper windows of the house for something. Dutch knew she couldn’t see him. So what was she looking at?
He studied her expression. Even from this distance, her beautiful eyes filled his sight. They shone like the green bay waters under a noonday sun. But she didn’t smile. She gave a tiny wave, and her shoulders hitched. The sunlight struck a gleam, off of a single droplet of water trailing down her cheek.
Edith was crying?
The driver set the wagon in motion.
Edith was crying, and the heart Dutch thought he no longer had broke.
He watched the wagon roll away staring long after it disappeared out of sight before he dashed the drink in his hand against the firedogs and strode from the room shouting, “Tsung, I need my horse!”
• • •
Edith followed along the far side of the caboose, watching as her trunk was transferred from the ferry to the baggage car of the train waiting at the Oakland Mole. The huge long building served as the terminal for arriving and departing passengers. Just like the day she arrived in San Francisco, the crowds were horrific, pushing and shoving along the platforms on both sides of the waiting trains. Everyone seemed in a hurry.
Doggedly she kept her trunk in sight. She wanted to know where it was stored because she would check it at every stop, even though she wouldn’t open the locked chest again until she arrived at her destination. For the this journey she kept with her only two carpet bags containing the necessities.
She checked the timepiece that dangled from the chain around her neck and compared it with the large clock on the side of the station building. Ten more minutes before the train’s scheduled departure. Ten more minutes to wish Dutch might change his mind and come with her, or at least come to wish her farewell. Earlier, as she’d left the Smiley’s home, everyone — even a tearful and clinging Tsung — had come to wish her safe journey, except Dutch.
Trey had assured her that he would continue to keep in touch. Eileen and Marcus promised to make sure Dutch didn’t allow his temper to get the better of him. Edith had to admit that he wasn’t as volatile as when they first met; although he still got visibly angry. Tsung not only begged her not to leave but threatened to bring the entire Tsang clan to plead against Edith’s departure.
The door shut on the baggage car, but Edith remained staring. She didn’t see the car. Didn’t hear the crowd rushing around her or the conductors calling to board the train. What she heard was Dutch saying, “I’ll always love you.” What she saw was Dutch’s face the moment after they shared that last kiss. A gentle kiss of longing and regret, but a kiss of resignation. She’d known she would never see him again. She’d spoken her piece. He’d said his then turned and walked away. She still had the petals he’d given her in a sachet. She kept hoping as she left the house, all the way down the street, through the city and onto the ferry.
But he hadn’t come.
Transfixed, Edith slowly moved her gaze to the large terminal clock. She looked at it but didn’t see the hands ticking off the minutes. Instead she saw Dutch as he’d been that night at the bordello, an angry stranger handsome enough to charm the devil and as determined to have nothing to do with her as she was uncertain of what she wanted.
“Last call to board, ma’am,” said a voice beside her.
Lost in thought she nodded.
She’d only been uncertain until she kissed him. Yes, he’d sought to punish her by returning that first kiss, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Not for her. One touch of his lips and she’d wanted little more than to lose herself in his embrace. When all the deceptions had been swept away and she did finally share his passion, nothing could have prepared her for the pleasure and delight she found with him.
She wasn’t certain yet that she carried the child who would secure her inheritance, solve the problems for her sisters and many others. But if she was pregnant, she had to return to Boston to show the proof of that pregnancy. Didn’t she? Mustn’t she find Kiera before all else?
Steam hissed.
Somewhere in the background a whistle blared. Shaking her head, Edith closed her eyes. She was a fool. Dutch made his choice, and she made hers. Hope was worthless. Grandfather had taught her that.
Now because of stubborn stupidity she would never again feel her lover’s touch, never again fly star-soaked to the far reaches of heaven or lay quiet, loved and loving in his arms. And that was just plain wrong. Dutch was right. She was allowing Grandfather to control her actions.
Surely there were other ways — telegrams, photographs, witness statements — to get the will changed? If annulments could be handled through correspondence, so could contesting a will. Grandfather could be dead already, and she would have abandoned Dutch for nothing. Surely sending professionals like Pinkertons to search for Kiera was wiser than going herself. She had to delay her trip. At least long enough to for Dutch to be able to come with her. If he still would have her after the way she’d hurt him?
Gears ground into motion, and the train whistle blew.
Startled from her thoughts, Edith looked up. The train was leaving, and her trunk was still on board. That trunk held everything she owned and all of Kiera’s pictures.
“Wait!” She picked up her skirts and ran.
The train moved a bit faster.
Around her the crowd thinned.
“Stop. My trunk is on that train.”
Encumbered as she was with carpet bags and skirts, she’d never catch the thing, get anyone’s attention, or find a way to stop the train. Heartsick, she dropped her bags and let her skirts fall toward the ground, watching the coaches slip past.
• • •
Am I too late? Dutch strode off the ferry that he’d hoped Edith would be on. He’d galloped like a madman through the San Francisco streets to get to the wharf before the ferry departed. He’d left his horse with a boy and tossed a double eagle — all the money Dutch had with him — at the child with a shout to take the horse back to Smiley’s. Dutch could only pray the kid would do as asked. If he didn’t? Well there were other horses, but only one Edith. She was one of a kind and the only kind worth waiting for. Dutch would give up just about anything to be able to change how he and Edith parted.
But he hadn’t found her on the ferry. Now he was stranded in Oakland not knowing where to look for her. Why
hadn’t he taken a moment to ask Tsung which train Edith would be on? Why hadn’t he asked if other ferries had left for Oakland in the past hour? Why hadn’t he told Edith he would go with her in the first place? He was a fool, ten times an idiot, but he could change that, if he could find Edith, and if she would still have him.
He stared at the mass of people rushing about in all directions. The building was huge with long trains stretching nearly the full length. Here and there piles of baggage waited for porters to load the cases and trunks into baggage cars. How to find her?
Check the schedule.
He headed for the ticket counter where schedules lay in piles on a shelf. He grabbed one and went to stand in line. As he waited, he opened the folded paper and searched for a train that stopped in Wyoming. He found the price for the train, but no timetable. Dutch moved to stand in the line for ticket purchases. He didn’t want to buy a ticket, but surely the ticket clerk would be able to tell him when the Wyoming train would leave.
“All aboard,” called from three different directions.
He needed more information, now.
The man in front of him completed his purchase. Dutch stepped up to the window.
“When does the next train for Wyoming depart?”
“Conductor just gave the first call for ‘all aboard.’ Didn’t you hear him?”
Dutch ground his teeth. “I heard several calls. Which is the train for Wyoming?”
“That one right there.” The clerk tipped his head in the direction of the platforms.
“Left or right?” Dutch ground out, suppressing the urge to strangle the clerk.
“My left, your right.” The clerk busily stacked tickets and other papers not bothering to look at Dutch.
“First, second, or third train on my right?” Dutch’s patience was wearing thin.
“Look, I’ve already told you which train, and I’m busy. You buying a ticket or not?”
Dutch would have reached through the bars and choked the answer out of the clerk if he could. All the same he leaned in, going nose to nose with the fellow and snarling, “First, second, or third or do I have to get your boss down here?”