by Lily George
In a voice rough with emotion, Jack said, “Let’s get Laura and take her home.”
Chapter Four
Jack stood in the school’s parlor, his hat in his hands, distinctly ill at ease. This stuffy school always put him on his guard, for it was nothing like home and everything he was used to. He was also facing it alone, as Mrs. Erskine had requested to speak to Ada privately about Laura’s progress. In some ways, he was annoyed that he wasn’t receiving that information. After all, he was Laura’s father, but since Ada would be in charge of Laura’s education, it was likely for the best. Besides, it might be nice to meet with Laura alone and explain everything to her before she met Ada.
The parlor door opened, and a maid ushered Laura into the room.
Jack drew in his breath sharply. She looked more like her mother than ever, more so than when he had seen her at Christmas. Emily had been a regular china doll, with pale skin, golden-blond curls and wide blue eyes. Like her mother, Laura possessed all these features. Also, just like her mother, she wore a fixed expression of angry disapproval. Maybe that’s why she favored Emily so much at this moment. Why was his little girl upset?
“Father.” She stood in the doorway until the maid ushered her in. Then the door closed behind Laura, and they were alone in the room.
“Hey there, my chickadee,” he said heartily, reverting to his pet name for her. He came forward to gather her into a hug, but she put her cheek up, coolly awaiting a kiss. He paused, disconcerted. “How’s my sunshine gal? Don’t I get a hug?”
She drew away from him, gazing up with a grave expression on her face. “Mrs. Erskine told me you married someone.”
“Yes.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He’d expected to get the chance to squeeze her and then sit down with her talking excitedly as she always did, but she didn’t seem to be in a happy mood. “I went out and got my little girl a new mama. Now we can all live together as a family.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I have a mama. She’s in heaven.”
“Well, now.” He cleared his throat. This wasn’t going at all as he’d expected. “That’s true. Mrs. Ada is just going to take care of you so we can all live in Winchester Falls together.” A terrible pain stabbed him. “You do want to come live with me, don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “This is my home, you see, Father. I know where everything is. I know what to do. I like it here.”
He stared at his daughter, unsure he even understood what she was saying. “Your home is with me. This is just your school.”
“I don’t want to go.” She said it firmly and clearly, a mulish expression stealing over her face.
He had never seen her in such a temper before. After recent events, especially the bout with his father-in-law, he wasn’t about to stand for this. “You’re going.” He stated the truth firmly and flatly. “Is your trunk packed?”
“Yes, but I can unpack it.” She scowled at him, lowering her brows in the same way Emily used to when she was in a fighting mood.
“No, you can’t. I’ll make sure they go ahead and load it in the carriage.” He crossed the room and grasped the bellpull, preparing to give it a good hard yank.
“I am not going with her.” Laura stamped her foot. “She is not my mother.”
“What does that matter?” Jack was incredulous. Was he really going to have a fight with Laura after all he had done to make them a family? Did she have any idea what he had been through to make this happen? So many lives had been turned upside down just to bring them together again. “If your trunk is packed, then we’ll get going. I am sure Ada is done with Mrs. Erskine by now.”
“I’m not leaving here.” Laura folded her skinny arms across her chest and glared at him.
He looked at his daughter, still unsure if this was some sort of bad joke or a nightmare. She stood before him in her gray cotton uniform, with her long hair in a tangle of blond ringlets and her black tights bagging at the knees. Her black hair ribbon tilted crazily over one ear, giving her the look of someone who had been scuffling with an unseen enemy.
Laura had always been an easy child, his “little chickadee,” his “sunshine baby.” This new behavior was likely the result of life in a highfalutin boarding school and not enough time out on the prairie. The sooner he brought her home, the better. She would get over this sulk and go back to being the sweet-tempered child she had always been.
“Stop this nonsense and come on,” he ordered. If he gave in to this kind of behavior, she’d end up as spoiled and entitled as Emily.
“I. Will. Not.” She punctuated each word with a stamp of her foot.
Anger and helplessness boiled within Jack. He had no idea what to do. Unless he threw her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, kicking and screaming, there was no way to get her out of this parlor and down to the waiting carriage.
Without another word, he turned and left the room, slamming the parlor door behind him. A walk would cool him off. A walk would enable him to think. He’d been through plenty the past few days, living with a strange woman in his home and then meeting with Edmund St. Clair. A man had his limits.
As he dashed down the stairs, Ada and Mrs. Erskine stepped out of an office on the first floor. “Mr. Burnett,” Mrs. Erskine effused, holding out her hand. “How nice to see you again. I’m so sorry we will be bidding farewell to Laura. She has always been one of my favorites.”
“Well, you might be keeping her, after all,” he snapped. “Seems she likes it so much here that she doesn’t want to leave.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Erskine replied with a polite little laugh. “How nice to know our school is so beloved.”
Ada put her hand on his arm, her complexion draining of all color. “You look…rather upset.”
“Going for a walk,” he announced coldly. “Be back in a while. Then we will see if we’re taking her home or not.”
He slammed out of the front door and ran down the steps. The long, curving driveway gave him enough room to walk without having to worry about being knocked down by cars. He tugged on his hat and strode off, walking the same way he did at the ranch, with long and easy strides.
This was what came of allowing a St. Clair to dictate your child’s life. She had gone from being a sweet and simple child to a terror under their tutelage. How was he ever going to turn this around? If he could only get her home, where she would be immersed in prairie life again, she would learn to forget this nonsense. Hard work, clean living and no ridiculous nonsense—that’s what made a strong and sensible person.
He paused at the end of the driveway, before it joined the busy, bustling St. Louis thoroughfare. He was no part of the crowd. In fact, anyone looking upon the scene would recognize him as the piece that was out of place. Tilting his straw cowboy hat back, he gazed up at the blue sky. He wasn’t a praying man, so he couldn’t pray. He wasn’t a drinking man, so he couldn’t drink. There was nothing he could do but walk around until he had calmed himself down and pushed his emotions back so hard they would no longer interfere in his daily existence.
He tugged his hat down and turned the corner into the busy street. Milling around with dozens of other people would help calm him or at least put his trouble in perspective. He made his way past a woman with a baby carriage. Emily had owned a pram that looked almost exactly like that one. She would wheel Laura out into the garden in it when the wind wasn’t too strong, pulling the cover up for shade, draping her shawl over the top so that Laura wouldn’t get sunburned. Then, once their daughter was settled, she would turn to him and say, “You dragged me out here. My poor baby, she’s stifling in this heat. Take us home. I want to live in Charleston.” He would never forget the accusing glare in Emily’s eyes as she turned on him, her hands on her hips.
Our place is here. This is our home. He would try wheedling and cajoling, but it was no good. When he saw his efforts were being wasted, he would leave for hours, giving Emily the time she needed to cool her temper.
He paused at the street corner, unsure of what to do. Should he round the corner and keep walking or turn back and return to Mrs. Erskine’s? He hadn’t solved anything by walking away. His anger still boiled near the surface and, with it, an underlying despair.
A girl should be with her father.
She should never prefer boarding school to life on the prairie.
He had failed as a husband. Was he failing as a father, too?
*
Ada stared after Jack as he slammed the door of the school. A quick glance showed that, per his usual routine in times of stress, he was off taking a walk. What on earth had happened to cause him to grow so angry in such a short period of time?
She turned to Mrs. Erskine, a polite smile stretching across her face. “I’m sure he’s gone to see to the horses,” she said quietly, by way of trying to explain away this sudden mess.
The fact that it was a hired gig and would be amply cared for by the driver did not seem to escape Mrs. Erskine, who gave an equally well-mannered but strained smile. “Of course,” she replied with a gracious incline of her chin. “Now, Mrs. Burnett, as I was saying, Laura has been an excellent pupil. With proper study and application, she will do well in school, no matter where she is. You do have a school in Winchester Falls, do you not?”
Ada paused. Did they have a school? Well, they did not have a church. It was likely that there were some children in the area and that they needed a way to learn. Why hadn’t she asked Jack about that? More to the point, why hadn’t he told her? His plan was so simple: bring Laura home. He didn’t seem to have gotten beyond that initial goal.
“Yes.” If they didn’t have a school, she would tutor Laura until one could be established.
She followed Mrs. Erskine up the stairs into the second-floor parlor. The school was nice, not overly lavish, but with tasteful ornamentation. The doors to the parlor had been closed, and, through the lace curtains lining the leaded-glass panes, she could just discern the figure of a young girl.
Her new daughter.
Mrs. Erskine opened the door and ushered Ada in. “Laura, this is your new mother, Mrs. Burnett. Mrs. Burnett, may I present Laura Burnett.”
It was a ridiculously formal greeting, and somewhat out of place, too. It was really the kind of thing that should have been handled by Jack. Of course, he had gone to cool his anger.
“Hello, dear Laura,” she effused, coming forward. Her stepdaughter rose from her position on the settee. She was a slight, pretty child, her uniform almost too large for her frame. A strangely protective rush surged through Ada as she took Laura’s hand.
“Good afternoon,” Laura replied stiffly. Her handshake was cold, and she shook off Ada’s touch as quickly as was permissible.
“I’m sure you two have much to discuss,” Mrs. Erskine said from the doorway. “I shall see to having your trunk moved down to the carriage, Laura.”
The girl opened her mouth as if to protest, but Mrs. Erskine cast a frosty look her way. Laura shut her mouth with a snap and, after her school mistress had closed the door, flung herself back onto the settee.
“I wish your father had introduced us,” Ada began tentatively, after an awkward pause. “It might have been nicer if he had done the honors.”
Laura shrugged, her uniform sagging against her thin shoulders. “I doubt it.”
Ada recoiled as though she had been slapped. From the defiant tilt of her chin to her sullen tone of voice, Laura was making one thing abundantly clear: she was not happy to see Ada. A cold rush of nervousness gripped Ada. She had never thought of this as being a potential outcome of all of Jack’s planning. The main thought on everyone’s mind had been for Jack and Ada to marry and bring Laura home. No one had accounted for Laura disliking her father’s new bride.
What should she say to diffuse the tense atmosphere? Was there any way to make someone like you? She had endured having rotten tomatoes thrown at her during a suffrage rights parade. Women had jeered and mocked from the sidelines while men made catcalls and shouted rudely. Somehow, she would go through all of that a dozen times rather than have Laura stare at her so coolly.
She took a deep breath and, to cover the fact that she was still scrambling for a response, made an elaborate show of taking a seat on one of the velvet chairs nearby. There must be some common ground they could meet upon. After all, Laura was having her entire life uprooted. Rather like how Ada’s own world had tilted crazily, dumping her into Jack Burnett’s arms. Well, not his arms, per se. Even though his arms were quite nice and strong.
Ada gave herself a brisk mental shake. What on earth was happening to her?
“Laura,” she rushed on, because lingering in her own thoughts was proving to be no help at all. “I imagine it is difficult for you to have me here. After all, this is a great deal to take in at once.” A sudden thought piqued her curiosity. “How were you told that your father had married me?”
“Mrs. Erskine told me.” Laura’s voice still held a sulky note, and her eyes were fixed stubbornly on the floor.
“What did she say?”
“That I had a new mother, and now I must go home.” Laura punctuated the end of the sentence by digging the toe of her boot into the pile of the Oriental carpet on the floor.
“And what did your father say?” Ada watched her stepdaughter carefully.
“He said the same thing.” Laura’s toe stopped digging.
“Well, in some ways, what they say is true, but there is an important distinction we must make, from the very beginning,” Ada replied, straightening her spine and placing her hands in her lap. She must compose herself and make certain she said this well, for it could either help her with Laura or make it even harder for them to bring her home. “I married your father, it is true. But I have no desire to replace your mother. You see, I met with your grandfather just a little bit ago, and he told me about her. She seemed like a lovely person. From what I understand, you even look a lot like her. So you see, Emily Burnett was a special woman. She will always be your mother.”
Laura’s features softened. “You met Grandfather?”
Ada forced herself to give a gentle smile, for it had not been an easy meeting. But Laura didn’t need to know that. “Of course. After all, I had to get his blessing.”
“Grandfather knows I’m going back to Winchester Falls?” Laura sat forward on the settee, her eyebrows raised. “And he didn’t say no?”
That was the first indication she’d had that Laura was willing to return to Texas. It must be a good sign. Evidently, Laura loved her grandfather and took his judgment to heart. “Yes, he knows. He did seem concerned at first, for he wants what is best for you. But I convinced him that a life with your father is the best thing for you, for no school can replace a family.” As she spoke the words, her voice caught in her throat. Her own sisters were finishing out the term in a boarding school. Of course, that was what everyone in her family had grown accustomed to—not being particularly close.
Obviously, the Burnetts were both similar and different from the Westmores.
“I don’t think I want to go back to Texas,” Laura said, her voice quiet. “Grandfather hates Texas.”
“I’m new to Texas, myself.” Ada nodded. “I could see how it would take some getting used to, if you were accustomed to living someplace as civilized as Charleston. I’m from New York. I must say, the first time I stepped on the train platform in Texas, I nearly lost my hat.”
Laura laughed, and then just as suddenly as it had started, her laughter died away. Her expression grew ashamed, as though she were embarrassed for her outburst. “That must have been funny,” she said, her voice growing gloomy again.
/> “Indeed, it was not!” Ada tilted her chin haughtily in the air, putting her hand up to touch the brim of her ostrich-plumed chapeau. “This confection is far too grand to be tossed around on the prairie wind like a tumbleweed.”
For a moment, Laura stared at Ada, her eyes narrowed.
Was she going to laugh? For good measure, Ada rolled her eyes and touched the tip of one ostrich plume.
Laura smiled a genuine though tentative smile that made Ada’s heart grow warmer. Oh, good. Her playacting had been appreciated, and perhaps Laura had thawed just a trifle.
“I’ll write to your grandfather every week to let him know how you are coming along,” Ada went on, deciding against pressing on with the hat joke. It was better, while Laura was feeling friendlier, to delve further into moving back to Texas. “You can write to him, too. Then, later in the year, we have been invited to pay him a visit.”
Laura’s blue eyes lit up. “A visit to Evermore? Oh, I love it there. Would Father come, too?”
“We’ll see if we can convince him to leave his beloved Texas,” Ada replied, giving an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “You know how these cowboys are.” Better to play the tense situation between the Burnetts and the St. Clairs as a joke rather than tell Laura plainly that her father had no intention of ever visiting Charleston. She didn’t need to make Laura aware of any animosity among family members.
She rose and walked over to the curtained windows across the room, twitching the lace panels aside so she had a clearer view of the waiting carriage below. As she glanced down, a familiar figure came striding up the driveway, his hat tugged down on his head and his shoulders hunched.
“Your father is waiting for us.” She turned to face Laura, holding out her hand. “Shall we go down and join him at the carriage? I believe we still have time to make our evening train.”
Laura paused for a moment. In that time, Ada’s heart sank. How much more would she have to fight today to make this child rejoin her father?