by Annie Boone
This was it.
“We’re here,” her father stated, and shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes strayed, looking around. It made Susannah wonder what he was thinking. The man had never left Boston. Fifty years old, and he had never stepped outside the city. But then, neither had she. Not yet, anyway.
Nodding, she bit her lip and looked at her parents. They’d never been apart for more than a night or two and had no experience at all with farewells. “The train will be here in an hour,” she said uselessly, as though none of them knew that.
Pointing towards the door, her mother nodded. “I think the ticket master will be right inside there. There should be a booth or a desk.” She sniffed three times. “He’ll stamp your ticket and give it back to you, because then you have to show it to the man on the train. What is he called again?”
Her husband looked at her blankly. “The conductor?”
Susannah thought that was the man who drove the train but her mother nodded hurriedly. “Yes, yes, that’s the one. The conductor, I’m sure of it. He will check your ticket. You must have it with you at all times.”
“Of course, Mother,” the words came out automatically, her mind already spinning a hundred miles a minute. Soon she would be leaving Boston for good. Had she done everything that she needed to, said farewell to everyone she wanted to see? Did she have her ticket? Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket, and she pulled it out.
Mother sniffed as her father cleared his throat. “Well, you had best be going. We’ll take our leave so you can… so you can get settled.” He paused for a moment, looking her up and down. Susannah felt a tickle at the back of her throat and an itch behind her eyes. Surely they had more time? “We don’t want you late,” he said. “So we’ll go ahead and go.” He turned to his wife.
The woman threw her bony arms around Susannah. “Don’t forget to wear your bonnet. And make him the pie, Susie, he’ll like that. Watch out for the outlaws, I hear they take to the trains and that could be dangerous. And you’ll go to church, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mother.” For a moment she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind. It was the closest her parents would get to expressing their love, and it was more than she had expected. Part of her wanted to collapse in her mother’s arms and go home with them. That little home with their round table and that old faded rug she was always tripping over.
With a shaky breath, she squeezed her mother tight before the woman stepped back beside her husband. Their eyes were misty with their hands hanging at their side, her mother holding onto that handkerchief wadded up and damp in her hand. Susannah looked at them, memorizing their faces.
“I guess I should go, then.” She picked her bag up again, reminded that it was rather heavy. Walking backwards, she bumped into the archway. “You’ll write, won’t you?” They waved and her mother nodded, even though the woman could hardly read.
The lump in Susannah’s throat only tightened as she watched them turn and walk away. Like any other day, not one where they were leaving their only daughter, their only child, to make her way in the world. On her own. She stepped inside the station, reminding herself this was what she wanted. They hadn’t pushed her to this, it had been her choice.
That didn’t change her shaking hands as she showed her ticket to the train master, and then took her seat. Resting the carpet bag in her lap, Susannah watched anxiously for the train and occasionally glanced over her shoulder as though her parents might come back for her. Nausea nearly overwhelmed her but that’s when the train arrived, and she forced herself to step on board.
“I can do this,” Susannah told herself firmly, and opened her bag to look for something to take her mind off her nervousness. Rifling through her belongings, soon the young woman found the small fold of letters. Smiling to herself, she thumbed through and found the most worn out one.
My Susannah,
I like the sound of that. Your letter brightened my day when it arrived. I was attempting to build the front door to my house, and put the nail in the wrong spot. You see, if you put it in wrong, you splinter the planks so they are spent and only good then for the fire. It was a nice cherry oak, and that was my last plank. I’m afraid the door will be mismatched now.
You asked about Rocky Ridge, and I can tell you it’s smaller than Boston even though I’ve never been to Boston to know that firsthand. Our little town is hidden there in the valley and receives a wide load of snow every winter. But when it blooms in springtime, it makes every day feel like Easter. Colorado Springs sits in a little further in the opposite direction, and is a much bigger town. Colorado is a nice change from Texas.
No, I didn’t grow up in Texas. In fact, I grew up far north in Maine and wanted to see the world as a young man. I drifted towards Mexico but remained in Texas to join the Ranger crew with whom I stayed for many years. Now, I can say that I’m looking to find something better. I hope it’s here, and I hope you want to settle into a town, too.
I ask for little, really. I want a woman who can cook and be happy here, someone to warm up and brighten this house I’m building. I’ll do my best to provide whatever you may need. I will never be rich in the way of the world, but I hope to gain wealth in the way of the land. Write again if what I’ve written doesn’t stop you.
Sincerely,
Lucas
That was the first letter that Lucas Jessup wrote to her, right after she’d answered his ad in The Matrimonial Times. He sounded nice, Susannah told herself again. Clever even, and perhaps wise. Leaning back in her seat, the young woman sighed and listened to the train tracks. Grudgingly she glanced out the window, and saw how fast they were going.
It nearly made her heart jump. Gracious! They really were flying!
Holding back a laugh, she covered her mouth to hide the big grin. Susannah felt her worries drop away for a minute, and realized that she truly was on an adventure after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Rocky Ridge, Colorado; 1882
Lucas healed up nicely as the young women learned how to create poultices and wrap bandages. Susannah was even certain her husband was beginning to enjoy the attention, especially since the girls were always asking him to tell stories about his Ranger adventures. He’d pull out that charming grin and start on something new.
“You’re supposed to be getting rest,” she’d interrupt.
“I will when I’m finished,” he assured her, so Susannah stayed close. But she liked the stories, too, for he told them well. A knack for story-telling and a pretty face, that one. Shaking her head, it made her wonder about the truth of these stories.
Soon Mary and Lorelai left, and there were tearful goodbyes after each wedding as one headed to Denver, the other to Laramie. With only two ladies left behind, Susannah concentrated her efforts on them. They required more time than expected, with Jane too worried about her clumsiness to concentrate, and Lydia always asking questions.
“They just scare me,” she mumbled while trying to fix her hair after retrieving four eggs from the chickens that morning. “I don’t know what it is, but those little beaks, they just…” the young woman shuddered and Susannah held back a smile.
Trying not to say anything, Susannah’s eyes drifted out to the pen with the chickens, knowing they should have had close to ten eggs. But she had watched, and seen the little animals scurrying after the young woman with a fervor. It had been more than difficult not laughing. Deciding to go easy on her, she decided to find the rest herself. “I’ll go give them a good talking to,” she promised her, winking at Jane who was busy kneading bread.
She couldn’t find her boots by the door, so she pulled on her husband’s which were too large but it had been done before. It wouldn’t take long, after all, with the pen being so much closer than the barn. Fixing her apron, she lifted the heavy boots one at a time and staggered to the pen.
The chickens clucked but she talked to them in a friendly voice, and carefully kept them out of her way. After tightening her apron, she re
trieved the last five eggs before returning to the house. It had only been an instant, five minutes at the most, but they already had a guest.
She heard his voice from the moment she stepped inside, already opening her mouth to say something. Glancing around, there was Jane in the hallway talking to the man, whoever it was, and Lydia in the kitchen.
Rather, it was Lydia hiding in the kitchen, plastered against a wall with her eyes squeezed shut. Susannah frowned, and hurriedly put the eggs away after taking off her husband’s boots, and went to the young woman. “Lydia? What’s wrong?”
“It’s him,” her eyes opened wide. “It’s him.”
“Him, who?”
The girl bit her lip and watched anxiously as Susannah shuffled through all the possibilities for who it could be. It’s not like anyone was chasing after the girl and there was nothing untoward about her past. Why the only one it could be was… patting her hair down, the woman hurried out to the hall where she found him.
Hands on her hips, she shook her head in disbelief. “Joshua Ralph! Why, I hardly recognize you. It’s very good to see you, indeed.” She allowed him to take her hand gently as he gave her a deep nod. He’d only been to the Jessup home once and that was when he was in town to attend their wedding. They hadn’t seen each other since. Occasionally he wrote to the Jessups, and she had always worried for him, especially after the passing of his wife.
He grinned sheepishly. “Why, thank you. And you only grow prettier, I do believe. My apologies for coming so soon, I know I wasn’t expected for another week, but I helped Mr. Wigs move his horses and the weather was so nice that he decided to move up the timeline before any late storms hit Utah.”
That made sense. Susannah glanced at Jane who had her hands clasped as she had clearly been trying to act as host. It made her smile and she gave the girl a solid nod for doing so well. But before anything else could be said, Lucas came down the stairs.
“I knew I heard your voice!” The men shook hands eagerly and she saw a lot going unsaid between them. So Susannah took Jane’s hand, and they gave their leave to the men who headed out onto the porch to catch up.
Immediately the women returned to the kitchen where Lydia was twisting her hair and biting her lip. She seemed more nervous than the night she had arrived, shaking in her boots even as she’d tried to remain bright and friendly.
“Where did he go?” She asked them. “What did he say? Did he not want me? What’s going to happen now?”
Susannah held up a hand. “What did I tell you about nerves, Lydia?”
A big gulp. “That nerves may come but it doesn’t mean that we should allow them to and make us do anything we wouldn’t normally do,” she muttered, resigned. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and dropped her arms to her sides. “He sounds nice, I think?”
Jane giggled between them, finally grinning broadly. “He is very nice! He called me sweet when I offered him something to eat,” she informed them.
Nodding, Susannah glanced around. “That was well done, Jane. Speaking of food, let’s finish up those eggs and get them on the table. And the bacon, too.” Jane headed off and she turned to the other girl still taking deep breaths. “Lydia, you are not bound to do anything you don’t want to, do you understand that? Life never goes according to plan. Sometimes things happen early, or they happen late, and sometimes they don’t happen at all. You adjust no matter what. Now we need to get busy. Finish the bread for Jane, would you?”
Chapter Nineteen
Hard work always clears the mind, Susannah told herself and watched Lydia run around to make herself busy. Sure enough, within minutes the crease in her forehead had disappeared and her shoulders were relaxed as she started singing along with Jane.
With the kitchen being cared for and the men talking, Susannah decided to return outside. Lucas had taken his boots, and without her boots around, she made the decision to pull off her stockings and head out barefoot.
Sticking to the path to avoid stickers and stones, the woman made her way to the barn to check on the animals. Lucas had risen late and she wasn’t certain the cows had all been milked. Saturdays had the tendency of being slow for the Jessups, and she didn’t mind that the chores happened late or in a different order.
It made her smile now to think that it would allow them to have some more fun in the afternoon since there was little else to do. Perhaps they’d even bake a cake. She’d have to ask the girls, but Susannah had a feeling they wouldn’t mind.
It was a pleasant stroll to the barn, and the smell of fresh hay was obvious as she stepped inside. Leaving a door open, she glanced around and went over to their three pigs. One was still young and small, and it grew noisy as she drew closer. The other two were large and lazy, lying down though she could see that they had been fed.
Fresh hay, full pigs, had Lucas done everything? Recounting the morning so far, Susannah wondered how he could have. She’d gotten up, dressed, braided her hair, and then walked out to the kitchen where Jane and Lydia had already been up. They’d started breakfast as Lydia was assigned to get the eggs… she shook her head.
After checking out everything just to be certain that her sweet husband hadn’t missed anything, which he hadn’t, Susannah headed back towards the house. Halfway down the trail, passing by her two Baily Sweet apple trees, she spotted the two men winding their way around the house. Lucas’ arm was in the air, pointing out landmarks and motioning to the barn.
They stopped when they got closer to her. “When these trees are bearing, we have a hard time keeping up. They’re practically too bountiful. We make preserves, pies, and whatever else Susannah can think of. We sell what we don’t use to the mercantile. And standing between them is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld.” The words slipped off his tongue smoothly. She raised her eyebrow and wondered if they were too smooth. Lucas gave her a cheeky smile as Joshua chuckled.
“It surely sounds like you’ve settled down nicely,” the man drawled, and scratched the scruff on his face. It looked like they must have gotten in early and he hadn’t even had the time to shave. He could smell better too, she suddenly realized. That sheepish smile of his told her that the man knew it, too.
The smile only grew on her face as she took her husband’s hand, thinking back to their wedding day. Joshua had looked the same then, though his clothes had been dustier. “I’d like to think so, yes,” she grinned. “When he’s not trying to do everything, anyways.” The man played innocent and raised his eyebrow. “Marriage is between two people. That means we take turns, and let each other—”
Lucas cut her off with a grin. “I think you’re the only wife in the world who complains when her husband does all the work.” Wrapping his arm around her, he kissed her softly on the top of her head. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
It just made Joshua smile, and she could see the thoughts in his eyes. He’d married while still with the Rangers, and he’d always had good things to say about his Elizabeth. But over three years ago, just after he had decided to leave that service for good, his wife had gone into early labor and neither she nor the babe had survived. He had waited nearly a year to write to them and tell them, and she knew it would have been hard.
What was it like, to truly be alone? Susannah realized she had never experienced that. Through the rough and tumble spots of her marriage, she had certainly felt the weight of the situation, but never had she been truly, thoroughly, alone.
But that’s why he was here. And her smile widened, thinking of Lydia. Of bright, cheerful Lydia with that big smile and her soft hair. They would be perfect together, and she’d known it from the moment they had both written. Even Lucas had agreed it could work. Now, she only needed to get the young woman to shake off her nerves.
How? To push them together, that could work, but Lydia was too good at getting flustered. Susannah shook her head. She’d figure it out. “Cake,” she announced, and the men looked at her. “I thought we’d make a cake today. Joshua, I’m assumi
ng you want to bathe and shave sometime today, and that you could return here for an early supper. What do you say?”
Lucas raised his eyebrow. “You can stay if you like, and we haven’t even finished the tour.” He gave his wife a questioning look on why the man couldn’t just stay and relax but she only shrugged.
The other man shook his head. “Oh no, she’s right. I’ll be needing to return to town. I know this isn’t what either of you could have expected, and I don’t want to intrude. I can even wait another week before—”
Susannah interrupted as she waved her hand. “Of course not. You’re returning this evening for supper, and we’re all having cake for dessert. There’s a chance someone might even pull out their fiddle.”
Lucas groaned, and it made her and Joshua laugh. “That would be torture for everyone, I think we can agree,” he shook his head in a grimace. “I haven’t picked that thing up in months. You probably play better than me.”
Susannah made a face. Though he had played a violin most of his life, it had come in last place as an adult. Once she had decided to ask him for lessons, but she had never realized how difficult it was to play and they were too impatient to continue them. Her smile grew at the two of them trying to catch each other off balance.
Odd man out, Joshua cleared his throat. “Four o’clock, then?”
“Four,” Lucas and Susannah chimed in together. She pulled away and looked up at Lucas with a grin. “But you two should finish the tour. And talk about that new horse we’ve been considering,” she added as an afterthought.
He raised an eyebrow. “Another one?”
Lucas nodded as she stepped away and headed towards the house. “Her horse took ill and… well, she hasn’t found a new one with an easy gait. And we’re thinking smaller, but one that can still climb the mountains. Remember how we…”