She took in a breath and rewarded him with a beaming smile. “Do you really mean it? You’ll allow me to join you?” “Yes, I mean it.”
“When will we leave?” She cast a worried look in the direction of the sickroom. “The sooner the better.”
At that moment, R.C.’s plans changed. “Be ready tomorrow at dawn.”
Chapter 4
At the appointed time, the coupe carriage started toward Dallas. Once they left the Houston vicinity, the road became bumpy and unpredictable. Sharing enclosed space with Fern while R.C. drove them perched in front, Gabriella forced herself to be cheerful despite the high emotion and anticipation the trip meant for her. With eagerness, she peered out the window. “Aren’t we blessed that the Lord gave us such good weather for our trip? Why, I hardly need my morning coat.”
Fern shrugged. “I wish it were spring, so we could see blue-bonnets in the fields.”
“Maybe we can make the trip again then.” Gabriella smiled to display more enthusiasm than she felt by the suggestion. The landscape was more brown than green this time of year. “Are you always this cheerful?” “I try to look on the bright side, yes.” Fern turned and knocked on the window to get R.C.’s attention. “I’m bored! When will we stop to eat?”
“You just ate,” R.C. snapped. “I’m hungry.” Fern crossed her arms. “You can’t be hungry. You aren’t doing a thing but sitting there.”
Gabriella didn’t want to say it aloud, but she had to agree. They weren’t exerting themselves to sit, even though they bumped along over roads that in some places were little more than old trails.
Fern pouted and looked out the window.
“Maybe we can play a game to keep us from being so bored.” Gabriella looked outside for inspiration. “Perhaps we can see who can spot the most different breeds of birds. Or we can look for one in particular. Maybe a mockingbird. Or we can listen for their calls and songs.”
Fern snorted. “That doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
“I have a backgammon game packed in my trunk. I’ll bring it out tomorrow so we can play.”
“I’m not sure I know how to play backgammon.”
“I can teach you. Father and I used to play all the time.”
“Why did you waste all your time playing games with your father?” Fern gave her a quizzical look. “You’re lovely. Too lovely to sit around the house with an old man.”
Gabriella wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt complimented by Fern’s observation. And knowing Fern’s reputation for bluntness, she knew Fern spoke the truth as she saw it. On the other hand, she didn’t like that Fern said she wasted time with her father, and the unflattering reference to her father’s age. “I don’t feel that any time spent with my father was ever wasted.”
“Well, aren’t you the self-righteous one.”
She flinched. Perhaps her snappish attitude with Fern did seem self-righteous. “I’m sorry if I sounded arrogant, but I meant what I said. I treasure the times I spent with Father.”
“Even if he’s known to be rather vexing?”
The coupe came to a halt, and R.C. disembarked to help the women exit the coach.
Gabriella noted that the rough-hewn way station promised no luxury, but no doubt R.C. did well to locate accommodations of any description along this road.
Fern sniffed. “I wish we could show you better hospitality than this sorry ride, Gabriella. Not to mention, what type of food will a questionable place like this have?”
“No matter what it is, you’ll eat it and like it.” Seeming to regret snapping at his sister, R.C. softened his tone. “This way station is the only place we can stop for a prepared meal in this region.”
“That can’t be right,” Fern argued.
R.C. stopped her cold. “I have an appointment to keep between here and there.”
The roadside shanty was as promising on the inside as it had been on the outside. Dressed in a stylish traveling suit, Gabriella looked out of place amid the ruffians, as did Fern, though to a lesser degree. Gabriella couldn’t help but notice that several men looked her way. Fewer surveyed Fern with such interest.
R.C. took Gabriella’s arm and escorted her to a table, keeping Fern close all the while. “Sorry this is a bit rough.” When he whispered in her ear, she noticed his breath felt warm, inviting.
“That’s quite all right. I’m not on this trip to be treated like a queen.”
A bulky man with a missing front tooth interjected, “You sure look like a queen, all dressed up like that.” His tone mocked her.
“Now you listen here.” R.C. narrowed his dark eyes and leaned into the man’s face. Gabriella could only imagine the stench of breath R.C. had to endure. “We are only here to have a meal. We’re not looking for trouble, and I’ll thank you to keep your observations about this fine lady to yourself.”
“What about the other one?” The new inquiry came from a short, bearded fellow. “Can we talk about her?”
R.C.’s glare deepened. “I’ll thank you to keep your opinion about my sister to yourself as well.”
“Yer sister? How’s about that? You’ll thank us or what?” An ominous glint entered his eyes.
R.C. looked him in the face without flinching. “As I said, we are not here to cause you trouble. We’re just weary travelers, looking for a quick meal, after which we’ll be on our way.”
Though R.C. made no threat, his stance and manner told everyone in the room that he meant business. Gabriella couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be a man threatened by another man, but she knew she wouldn’t want to tangle with R.C. at that moment. She didn’t know when she’d ever felt more proud of him.
The men made no more trouble, and as R.C. promised, their party didn’t dawdle over their meal. Gabriella noticed that R.C.’s demeanor seemed as relaxed as if he were in his own dining room. Fern didn’t indicate nervousness, either. Gabriella tried not to seem too jumpy.
She held on to R.C.’s arm for dear life as they departed. As soon as they were out of earshot of the bullies, she felt free to speak. “You were brave to face that man like that.”
“Brave, nothing. We have just as much right to be there as anyone else. Besides, I promised your father I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. And I won’t.”
Gabriella couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. But why? Did she really hope she had touched R.C. in some way, beyond being a responsibility to her father? Was she merely a paying passenger?
Sitting in her seat, she sighed in spite of herself.
“Tired?” Fern asked.
“A little, maybe.”
“Maybe later we can play that game you suggested. You know, the one where we watch for birds. I didn’t realize before you got me started on looking for birds how fun it could be to spot a red cardinal.”
“Not to mention the woodpecker. Wasn’t he gorgeous?”
“He was. Maybe I’ll invest in a pair of binoculars for the future.”
“Perhaps the two of us can go bird-watching sometime.”
Fern smiled, giving Gabriella hope that maybe a friendship between them could develop.
After a long afternoon of travel, filled in part with bird sightings and waiting for R.C. to meet with a businessman, they stopped for the night at a town with a small hotel. These accommodations looked more friendly than any other they’d seen but not much more friendly. Eating a tender piece of beef and sweet potatoes, plus rolls with preserves, they could relax and look forward to what they hoped would be a restful evening. The table that the party of three shared gave them enough room that they could engage in some conversation.
“I’m sure your father will be grateful when you find your grandfather.” Fern slid her fork into a slice of pecan pie.
Gabriella pictured the grandfather she remembered. “I’m looking forward to seeing him. I miss him terribly.”
“How can you? He left when you were a little girl.”
“I know. But I have the Christmas tree
ornaments he carved for me. And a beautiful dollhouse. You’ll have to come over and see it.”
“I’ve never seen the dollhouse, but you’d like the ornaments, Fern,” R.C. noted between bites of his own slice of pecan pie. “They’re all fine examples of expert wood carving. I can see why Gabriella’s aunt said he makes a living from his artwork.”
“Finding him will be only part of the excitement of being in Dallas.” Fern looked beyond their table, skyward, as if dreaming.
“What’s so exciting about Dallas?” Gabriella couldn’t resist asking.
Fern nearly dropped her fork. “Haven’t you heard? Terrible outlaws ride through Dallas all the time.”
R.C. set down his napkin in an abrupt manner. “Fern, must you vex Gabriella?”
“I’m not vexed.” Gabriella had been so intent on finding her grandfather that she hadn’t considered there could be more danger than what they had encountered at lunch. Besides, she was with R.C., and he’d made it clear he’d protect her. “Uh, outlaws?”
Fern became animated. “Yes. They are quite desperate. Did you know Belle Starr was arrested for robbing a bank while she was dressed as a man?”
“Belle Starr? Who’s she?”
Fern gasped. “You don’t know who Belle Starr is? Why, she’s only one of the most notorious outlaws around Dallas.”
“Now, Fern, not everyone is as fascinated by the darker side of life as you are. Besides, you’re scaring Gabriella. We don’t want her to think she’s not safe with us.” R.C.’s eyes spoke a mixture of concern and protection.
“I think the idea of outlaws swarming all over Dallas is terribly exciting.” Fern grinned.
“Terribly exciting until you get shot.” R.C. snorted. “Now enough of this talk. We all need to turn in for the night. Fern and Gabriella, I have arranged for the two of you to share a room. I hope that suits.”
“Really? I was hoping for some privacy.” Fern looked to the ceiling and back. “Leave it to my cheap brother to try to save a few dimes any way he can.”
Gabriella felt disappointed that the prospect of sharing a room with her was so distasteful to Fern. “I don’t mind paying for my own room, and if necessary, half of yours as well.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Gabriella,” R.C. admonished.
“What has gotten into you, Fern? Have you forgotten every trace of manners you learned?”
“But—”
“No buts.” A thought seemed to cross R.C.’s mind. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to share a room, Gabriella.”
“I—I don’t mind. Why, I was looking forward to it.” Gabriella patted Fern’s hand. “We can get to know one another better, Fern. But really, if need be I can sleep on my own.”
“No, it’s settled. You’ll room together.”
Gabriella was sorry to see the meal end, since it meant that R.C. would separate from them. The innkeeper showed the women to a modest room. Twin iron beds had clean sheets but the mattresses sported indentations from previous patrons.
“Looks as though George Washington slept here.”
Glad to hear Fern joke, Gabriella played along. “Maybe even Saint Paul.”
The women snickered, a good sign that the night would pass if not in complete comfort, at least in developing friendship.
Not ready to sleep despite the long trip, Gabriella sat on the unclaimed bed. “I’m sorry R.C. made us stay together since you’d rather be alone. I’ll try to convince him to make other arrangements for the duration of the trip.”
“No, that’s all right. I don’t suppose I should have complained.” Unpacking her night shift, Fern’s tone indicated she still wasn’t happy. “I’m amazed by you, Gabriella.”
“Amazed? Why?”
“It’s been a terrible day, but you’ve never said a word of complaint.”
“Complaining won’t make things better. It might even make things seem worse.”
“I suppose that’s the best attitude to take. How can you maintain such a kind disposition, especially with your father being known for his hard personality?”
That hurt. “His hard personality?”
“Why, yes. Everyone knows him as crotchety and difficult.”
Perhaps Father’s reputation was deserved, but why did Fern feel compelled to share the news of everyone’s negative opinion with Gabriella? After all, she was his daughter.
Obviously unaware that she had made any blunder, Fern slipped on her night shift. “At least you are nothing like him. Perhaps you are like your mother.”
“I—I don’t remember Mother. I wish I did. At least you remember your mother.”
“Yes. She was a plain woman. R.C. inherited Papa’s fine physique and handsome face, but I got Mama’s face and form, I’m sorry to say.”
Gabriella couldn’t deny that Fern would never win a contest to be a model in the Montgomery Ward catalog, but she looked for something positive to say. “I wouldn’t be sorry. You are blessed with thick hair and a clear complexion. Not every girl can say that.”
“Really?” Fern regarded her image in the mirror over the basin. Her nose boasted plenty of length, and her irises seemed so colorless they melted into the rest of her sallow face. “I suppose you have a point.” A glimmer of a smile crossed her lips then faded. “R.C. says I’ll die a spinster because of my plain looks and my way of speaking my mind.”
As for Fern’s blunt speech, Gabriella didn’t want to emphasize how much she agreed with R.C. “I know you don’t mean any harm.”
“No, I don’t.” Her eyes didn’t meet Gabriella’s. “I didn’t say anything to offend you, did I?”
“Well, you were a bit rough on my father just now.”
“Oh.” Fern shrugged. “It’s no secret. You mean to say you didn’t know his reputation?”
“I don’t suppose it comes as a complete surprise, but you might have exercised more sensitivity. He is on his deathbed, you know.” Verbalizing the unwelcome thought gave Gabriella the impulse to do something with her hands. She searched for the pins that held her hair in place so she could brush and then braid it.
“Maybe R.C. is right. Maybe I will die a spinster. I don’t want that. I want my own home and family. I don’t want to live with my brother the rest of my life.”
“Isn’t he kind to you?”
“Yes, even though he’s cheap.”
Gabriella chuckled. “I think he’s aware of your opinion.”
“If he’d be more free with his money, I’d be happier.”
“Would you? I don’t think so. I think you were right the first time. You want your own home and family. And I surmise you’d like the same for him.” Rising, she found the purse where she kept her boar bristle brush. “Doesn’t he want a home and family, too? A home where his sister isn’t his hostess?”
“With the right wife, yes. Someone with a nice disposition. And that brings me back to my question. How do you keep such a nice disposition about yourself? You have a depressing life. Your father is old and sick—dying, even. Your mother is dead. Your grandfather has disappeared, and you may go all this way with us only to discover he’s dead, too. You have no husband. How do you stay cheerful?”
“I was more cheerful until you told me how terrible my life is.” Gabriella looked to the ceiling and back in an exaggerated manner to show Fern she joked.
“I’m sorry. But it’s true.”
“I try not to look at my life as one long rain shower. I look to the Lord as the source of my joy. Each day I pray for His strength, and then I rededicate my life to Him.” Gabriella took the brush to her hair and made a mental note to thank the Lord that their carriage had been enclosed. Otherwise, the dirt and dust from the road would have been impossible to remove.
“I love the Lord, too, but R.C. still thinks I’ll be a spinster.”
“The Lord hasn’t promised me a husband. I’m far from perfect as a maiden, and I’ll be a far-from-perfect wife. But I’ll do my best. Remembering the One I really serve helps me to b
e my best.”
“Maybe I should do the same. But I don’t want to be one of the sugarcoated Christians that puts on an act when everything is terrible. I see the world as it is.”
“Fern, I don’t think there’s much danger of you ever being too sugary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean no harm. I only mean that you shouldn’t lose your honesty. Just be more cautious in the way you express yourself. Jesus’ commandment that we are to love our neighbor means we must consider others’ feelings when we speak or act. That’s all.”
“I’ll never get it right.”
“Neither will I. But we can practice with each other. This trip will give us plenty of chances.” Gabriella tugged on her hair to set it into a braid.
Fern grimaced. “That’s for certain. We’ll have more than enough reason to complain. If only R.C.’s meetings along the way hadn’t precluded us from taking the train.”
The next day, R.C. looked in wonder at the two women who joined him for the next leg of the trip. His sister seemed more relaxed than usual, less combative. He’d been so engrossed in his business meetings the previous day that he hadn’t noticed how Gabriella’s hair dazzled when the sun picked up the lighter strands in her lush mane. She’d curled all her hair up in one of those complicated styles the women liked of late. The same sun that played with feminine hair proved unforgiving to their skin, too. He’d noticed many a member of the fairer sex who looked beautiful in candlelight were trapped into revealing pock marks and blemishes when harsh sunlight beckoned. Not Gabriella. He imagined he could run his fingers over her cheek without encountering the first dip or bump.
“What’s the holdup, R.C.?” Fern placed her hands on her hips.
“Holdup?”
“You’re standing there like you’ve got all day.” “Oh, I’m sorry. Just daydreaming.” “That’s not like you.”
Caught, he searched for another excuse. “That’s what a successful journey will do for a man. Now if my contact in Dallas goes just as well, I’ll be whistling all the way home.”
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