“Indeed.”
Lily sensed Fannie had been about to speak of Caleb, but had censored herself. She stood to replace the iodine in the cabinet, but that action served for naught because the question tumbled out, anyway. “How is he?”
Fannie did not pretend ignorance. “Caleb goes through the motions of work, Will says, but mainly keeps to himself. I’ve often seen him entering the library in the evening. No doubt you would like me to say he is fine, but that would be an untruth. The man is pining.” Fannie closed her notebook. “Perhaps you would prefer that he pine, since that offers strong proof of his affection for you.”
“I need no proof of that,” Lily whispered. “I know I am walking away from a wonderful man.”
“It is not for me to judge. You are my friend, and I trust you to know what is best for yourself.”
“Can one every really know that?”
“I know. Will is best for me.” Lily saw the concern for her that Fannie could not conceal. “One day, you, too, will know beyond any doubt what makes you happy.” She snapped the notebook open. “Now then, tell me about belladonna.”
For the next hour, they applied themselves to the lesson. When they finished, Lily patted her friend on the shoulder. “Good work. I feel so much better about leaving Father.”
“You worry about him.”
“I can’t help it. Ever since my brother and then Mama died, he has aged rapidly. I think he’s tired.”
“And grieving.”
“That, too. Leaving him and Rose for so long will be hard.”
“Try not to fret. I will write frequently, keeping you posted on things, including your father’s well-being.”
“Thank you, Fannie. I am blessed to have such a friend as you.”
Fannie leaned over and hugged her. “Let us vow always to be close.”
“I am counting on that,” Lily said, suddenly envisioning the miles and miles she would soon put between herself and everyone she loved. She would need all the courage she could muster.
* * *
With only two weeks left of his army service, Caleb found himself slowly transitioning out of involvement in strategic planning. At loose ends, he often found refuge in the library, but not even Moby Dick with its vivid descriptions of whaling could capture his attention. More often than not, he simply sat in a chair holding his open book, wishing for the hours and days to pass until he would no longer be tortured by proximity to Lily. Yet, paradoxically, the thought of being separated from her was devastating.
Just before taps one evening, the library door opened, and he was surprised to see Ezra Kellogg. “I thought I’d find you here,” the older man said.
Caleb remembered his last conversation with Ezra. How different he had felt on that occasion when he’d been given permission to court Lily. Now he couldn’t imagine what they could possibly have to discuss. “I enjoy the quiet.” Caleb pointed to a chair. “Please. Sit.”
Ezra had the grace not to mince words. “I am sorry that Lily’s decision has probably disappointed you.”
“Thank you.” Caleb didn’t trust himself to say anything further.
“You must be wondering why I’ve sought you out.”
Caleb shrugged.
The surgeon leaned forward in his chair, pinning Caleb with his piercing blue eyes. “I have a favor to ask, one that I have no expectation you will want to fulfill. Yet please hear me out.”
Caleb sat back and folded his hands. “I’m listening.”
“If I had any other recourse, I would not presume upon your good will. From young Creekmore, am I correct in understanding that your brother has asked you to go to St. Louis on ranch business?”
Caleb had an uneasy suspicion where this conversation was headed. “Yes.”
“Difficult as it might be, I am asking you to consider accompanying Lily on her trip there.”
Caleb felt blood suffusing his cheeks. He wanted to slam his fist on a table or stalk out of the room. How dare the man suggest such a thing!
Ezra held up his hand. “Before you say anything, just listen.”
Caleb waited. He figured silence was his most gentlemanly response.
“Lily has never traveled by herself. You and I both know the possible perils for a single woman in a stagecoach or on a riverboat. I am concerned for her safety. She is headstrong enough to think she can handle the exigencies of such a journey.”
Caleb closed his eyes against images of foul-mouthed frontiersmen and coarse, beefy sailors—all of whom would salivate over a beautiful young woman.
“I have no one else to ask. Lily is precious to me, and I’d like to believe to you, as well. There is no denying the awkwardness and, dare I say, the pain of such an arrangement.” The man took off his glasses and swiped at his eyes. “It is difficult enough to let her do this thing without also wondering each hour if she is safe.”
Caleb gritted his teeth. He couldn’t imagine a worse torture than spending days on end with a woman he loved who could not return that sentiment.
“If you care about her, as I know you do, surely you see the wisdom of traveling together.”
“I’m not sure I can make such arrangements at this late date.” The minute the words came out of his mouth, Caleb knew he’d capitulated.
“I have telegraphed the steamboat line to secure your passage. Your river voyage will be at my expense, sir.” He paused. “As for the stagecoach, perhaps the ranch can cover that cost. If you agree to help Lily, you might have to spend a few extra days here after you muster out.”
“When is she leaving?”
“August 20.” Caleb half listened as Ezra outlined the plans in more specific detail. Every fiber of his being cried, “No!” Why was he even contemplating such a masochistic endeavor?
Lily. The love of his life. That was why. “Against my better judgment but out of concern for your daughter, I will accompany her to the wharf in St. Louis.”
Ezra slumped in relief. “I, sir, will be forever in your debt.”
* * *
The morning before she was scheduled to leave, Lily sewed the final button on the jacket of her new traveling costume—a serviceable blue, matching her bonnet. Her trunk was packed, despite the fact Aunt Lavinia would probably cringe at her unfashionable wardrobe, and she had made a list of the items she would carry in her reticule. Snipping the final thread, she sat back, running her hands over the bodice of the jacket. How many days would she alternate between this and her only other travel ensemble? Now that her departure was imminent, she was filled with a cascade of emotions—excitement, anxiety, nostalgia, homesickness—and a number of questions. How difficult would it prove to be on her own? To leave her beloved father and sister? To say goodbye to her mother’s grave site? She swallowed threatening tears. To travel for three or more weeks with Caleb?
She stood, shook out the jacket and moved to the ironing board. The iron heating on the stove hissed when she tested it. Spreading the jacket on the board and bending to the task, she remonstrated with herself. She had formulated her dream, and with Aunt Lavinia’s help, she was on the verge of realizing it. Now was not the time for faintheartedness. Upset as she had been when her father gave her the news that Caleb would travel with her, she acknowledged grudgingly that his presence would help secure her safety until she reached St. Louis. However, it would not ensure a relaxed trip.
The day passed in a whirl of last-minute details. The Hurlburts were entertaining the family for her final dinner at Fort Larned. Before dressing for that occasion, she made a final visit to the cemetery. The setting sun cast burnished rays of light upon the grave, and the familiar cooing of doves produced a plaintive requiem. Lily stood, rapt, staring at the chiseled name on the stone. Mathilda. In a moment of clarity, she realized that no matter how far from this place life took her, her mother’s influence would accompany her. She placed a hand on top of the grave marker. “Mama, Papa told me all you ever wanted for me was to be happy. I intend to do that by taking full advan
tage of new opportunities. Thank you for your love and example.” Then, oddly, she found herself smiling, as if her mother had touched her in blessing.
The dinner party was a time of forced gaiety, involving the major and his wife, Fannie and Will, Ezra and Rose...and Caleb. As a result of the cavorting butterflies in her stomach, Lily picked at her food, knowing full well she would think of this sumptuous spread many times as she sampled the fare at stagecoach way stations. Adding to her nervousness were the veiled looks passing between Effie, Fannie and Rose and then redirected to her, as if she were a patient who required observation for an undetermined illness. No clairvoyant, she nevertheless knew exactly what they were thinking. How could she launch into this adventure and turn down a man as fine as Caleb? She had ultimately given up trying to explain. She was moving on to the “beat of a different drum,” as Mr. Thoreau had put it.
Before the party broke up, Effie pulled Lily aside and wrapped her in a motherly hug. “We will miss you more than you know,” she whispered. Then she pulled away, held Lily by the shoulders and added, “Whenever you find a man suitable as a husband, remember the importance of honesty.”
Lily nodded. “No secrets, right?”
“Open communication. Trust.”
Lily embraced the older woman again. “Thank you. I shall miss your counsel.”
“And I, your sunny, generous nature.”
Later, snuggled under the light sheet next to Rose, Lily realized she would probably never again share a bed with her sister. Starting the very next night, she would find herself alone for the first time in her life. Her new reality came crashing down and she moaned softly.
“Lily?” Rose turned to face her. “You can’t sleep, either?”
“No. So many thoughts are running through my mind.”
“I can’t believe the time is finally here.”
“Nor can I. Before, such a trip was a fantasy.”
“Papa and I will miss you so.”
“And I you.” Even on the eve of her trip, Lily found it difficult to imagine a life without her family.
“I’ve cried all the tears I have within me, but I want you to know that Papa and I will be fine. We will be praying for the fulfillment of your dreams.”
“When we meet again, Rose, I shall have so much to tell you.”
“I will count the days.” Rose laced her hand through Lily’s. “I love you, sister.”
“I love you, too.” Somehow in the silence, Lily managed to calm her racing heart and fall into a peaceful slumber, her fingers still entwined in Rose’s.
* * *
Caleb had been part of too many leave-takings to watch Lily bid farewell to her family. Instead, he busied himself loading their trunks on the stagecoach. Insofar as possible, he planned to keep his distance from her, staying just close enough to protect her from unwelcome attentions. Surveying the fellow passengers, he saw only one other woman, a toothless crone headed for Council Grove, and four men, from their Western dress, obviously veterans of the trail. He would need to keep his eye on them, particularly the one ogling the assembled women, spitting tobacco indiscriminately and turning the air blue with oaths.
The driver bawled out the order to leave. Lily threw herself into her father’s arms, her “Oh, Papa!” moistening every onlooker’s eyes, including, to his chagrin, his own. With the halfhearted effort of a jaunty salute, he hauled himself onto the top of the coach. If he could maintain this seat for the trip to Independence, he could avoid all but the most cursory conversation with Lily. The passengers began taking their seats, but Lily lingered until she was the last one to climb into the coach. Then, with the crack of the driver’s whip, the vehicle lumbered onto the trail, jostling passengers and careening from side to side as the horses picked up speed.
From his perch, Caleb watched the buildings of Fort Larned grow indistinct until the only landmark remaining was the towering flagpole with the colors flying in the stiff breeze. Unexpectedly he felt a lump rising in his throat with the reality that the painful first chapter of his adult life had closed. Too much conflict, too much blood, too much guilt. He had hoped to end his career with the promise of a new life with Lily. Now, somehow, he faced that next chapter even more alone than he had been when he had marched to war with his comrades from Jefferson City. He pulled the brim of his hat lower over his face, resigned to the long, challenging trip.
* * *
Lily had only thought she knew discomfort before. Miserable August heat, clouds of dust, mingled odors of unwashed bodies and the nausea-producing motion of the lurching coach caused her to pray constantly for deliverance even as she knew she faced more days on the trail. Alighting at night, she hoped for relief, but the inns along the way were primitive and the food so unappealing she could scarcely eat, even though she knew she must. It was only at meals that she saw Caleb, who hovered close by to spare her the conversation of trail-hardened men. Her fellow passengers were an odd lot—the old woman said nothing, one of the men hummed under his breath in a sleep-inducing monotone, two engaged in hotly contested card games and the fourth made her miserably uncomfortable by staring at her over the edge of the newspaper he pretended to read.
Arriving finally at an inn offering a bath, Lily could not wait to divest herself of her soiled clothing and cleanse away the grime of the trip. Afterward, she felt minimally refreshed and was pleased to find in her reticule a small vial of eau de cologne. Dabbing a drop behind each ear, she felt feminine for the first time since leaving home. She combed her newly washed hair into a chignon and went downstairs for a supper no better than the others along the route. For once, she beat Caleb to the table, but she was not without company. The unpleasant newspaper reader sidled up next to her and sat down. “How you doin’, purty lady?”
She inched away from him, not daring to look into his lascivious face. “Middling.”
“A lady such as yourself shouldn’t be on the trail all by her lonesome.” He bit into a hard biscuit and continued talking, spewing crumbs across the table. “Might need a man to escort you. I’d be just the fella. Wouldn’t let nobody hurt ya.”
Lily froze, her spoonful of beans halfway to her mouth. She’d heard another man talk like this once before. Ingratiating. Sly. Contemptible.
“Cat got yer tongue?” The man leaned forward and circled her neck with his rough hand, his foul breath hot on her face. “Yer not only sweet-smellin’, yer purty, too.”
Adams! Without even thinking, she sprang to her feet, spilling her meal across the table and onto the floor. “Stay away from me!” She ran for the door, only to be swooped into Caleb’s arms as he entered the tavern.
“Go to your room, Lily. Lock the door.” Caleb set her down and strode toward the offensive passenger. As she darted up the stairs, she heard scuffling and then Caleb’s commanding voice. “If you ever touch that woman again, even look at her, I will do to you what I have not hesitated to do to my enemies in battle. Are we clear?”
Lily could not make out the man’s answer, but she sank, trembling, onto the cornhusk mattress, grateful beyond words for Caleb’s intervention. Again. Whatever their current relationship, he was still her knight in shining armor.
A light rap sounded on the closed door. She moved cautiously and put her ear against the wood. “Lily? Are you all right?”
Relieved, she opened the door a crack. “I am fine, thanks to you. You seem to make a habit of saving me.”
Caleb stood with his hands behind his back, worry etched on his face. “I’m glad I was here. I have put that man on notice. Furthermore, he and I will be trading places. Tomorrow he will ride topside, and I will join you in the coach.”
Her heart gave a lilt before catapulting back down. She would be grateful for his protection, but having him by her side for the upcoming miles would pose challenges. She could not permit herself to get too comfortable with him or put too much reliance on his good will. “I shall welcome that change. He was a most disagreeable companion.”
“T
hat’s putting it charitably,” Caleb muttered. Then he seemed to draw himself up. “I bid you a good night.”
“It is already good. You have been a source of great help. Thank you.” She gazed up at him, at once wanting to prolong their conversation, but knowing she must end it. “Good night, Captain.”
He nodded, then turned to walk away, but not before she heard him correct her under his breath. “Caleb.”
* * *
The paddleboat Mary McDonald was a pleasant surprise to Lily, outfitted with the latest furnishings and amenities and carrying genteel passengers in the cabins near hers. The dining room sported crystal chandeliers, and the tables were covered with sparkling white linen and silver place settings. A string trio played in the background while the diners feasted on delicately prepared dishes, a far cry from the tasteless fare of her thirteen days on the trail. Still, the slow-moving boat, maneuvering the snags and shoals of the river with care, offered little relief from the heat. During the day she often sat on deck. She and Caleb had been seated at the same dinner table, so perforce, they were speaking often.
Three days before their docking in St. Louis, he sought her out on the deck. “May I sit?”
She waved vaguely at the vacant chair next to her. “Of course.”
He settled beside her and pulled a book from his pocket. “I found this volume in Independence and thought you might like it.”
He handed it to her. “Little Women?” She couldn’t hold back her smile. “I’ve read about Miss Alcott’s work.”
“It gives a different view of the War between the States. It is a touching story about a mother and her four daughters and the challenges that faced the families of soldiers.”
She cradled the novel to her chest. “I will begin posthaste in order to finish it before we dock.”
“No need. It is yours.” He studied the passing shoreline as if to avoid looking at her. “An appreciation for literature is one thing we have in common.”
She remembered fondly their discussions of poetry. “Thank you. I shall look forward to the story.”
Laura Abbot Page 18