Time After Time

by Elizabeth Boyce

  St. Louis, November 1855

  St. Louis surprised Ginger, with its tall buildings and busy streets. The town had witnessed a rapid expansion during the first half of the 1800s, and was no longer considered just a frontier town, but rather a bustling scene of commerce. She enjoyed the bumpy ride of the omnibus streetcar over the cobblestone road that stretched from the National Hotel to the bustling waterfront, where steamboats were lined up and waiting for patrons, or to be loaded with goods.

  Basil told her the town was going to add rails on the city streets for horse-drawn carts to replace the omnibuses, which would result in a smoother ride; he was considering investing some of the bank’s money into the venture. If horse-drawn carts on tracks were to be the future, she was glad she was able to take at least one ride on the omnibus before it faded into history.

  Immediately after agreeing to the trip, she had begun a countdown of the days, then the hours and minutes before their departure from New York. When she was alone in her room at home, she fantasized about running into Joseph and falling into his welcoming embrace. She again shed some tears as she acknowledged the life she would never have. She would never be as happy as Elizabeth, and now Quentin, and the dream of having children of her own faded the moment Joseph had fled New York.

  She longed to walk on the sidewalks of St. Louis, knowing Joseph had trod on those same boards many times. Even with her trepidations of ever being able to set things to right with Basil, she couldn’t quell her mounting excitement as their departure date neared.

  Charles Gray was right. She was far too spirited to sit in her lonely office at the bank, watching life pass by her window, feeling sorry for herself and refusing to partake in any new experiences. Traveling would be an excellent way to fill the voids in her life. She’d roam this vast country and then the world, speaking to women in every station of life about women’s rights, expanding hers and Amelia Bloomer’s cause. It might be a male-dominated world at present, but that would not always be the case, she was certain. Maybe she’d go to England next, and see Elizabeth after she had her baby. Ginger could not wait to see what experiences life would throw at her next. She had been walking in a fog since Joseph galloped out of her life in July. But she now had a renewed outlook and was once again ready to grab life by the horns.

  Standing on the platform — even sandwiched between her father and Basil, with Charles Gray in front of them — Ginger was still jostled as hundreds of patrons jockeyed for positions on the train cars, trying to get out of the persistent rain. This was the first time the train would go the entire distance from St. Louis to Jefferson City, and Ginger found herself caught up in the gaiety and frivolity of the crowd. She had been giddy with anticipation about this trip since talking to Mr. Gray, and it was at last here.

  Ginger turned her focus back to the festivities taking place on the railroad platform.

  “Well, it may have taken four and a half years to lay this 125 miles of track from St. Louis to Jefferson City, but at last, we can celebrate!” St. Louis’s mayor Washington King announced to the milling crowd.

  Six hundred invited guests jostled for space on the platform and hundreds of other spectators spilled onto the street below. As the heavy downpour continued, the guests began to board the train and slowly filled the fourteen railcars. Even the rain could not dampen their spirits, as everyone caught the festive nature of this milestone event.

  Ginger finally boarded and took a seat on the train, grateful to be out of the rain at last. She deposited her parasol under the seat and smoothed the green-and-brown-striped silk of her skirt. Her many layers of starched petticoats held the wet fabric away from her body. She shook her shawl, removing most of the moisture, and then wrapped the heavy green velvet more closely around her shoulders. Even though it was wet, it provided her some much-needed warmth.

  “At least it’s raining, not snowing,” Basil joked as he settled in next to Ginger. “This time of year in St. Louis, it could easily be the heavy white stuff, and at the rate it’s falling, it would amount to a couple of feet. Then none of us would be going anywhere.”

  “True enough, Basil,” his father replied. “The cowcatcher on the front of the engine can clear the track somewhat, but it would be no match for two or three feet of snow. We’ll count among our blessings the fact this is just rain.”

  “Thank you, Papa, for allowing me to come along for this party. I’m having so much fun,” Ginger chimed in.

  George reached for his daughter’s hand. “After what you’ve been through the past couple of months, my sweet girl, I wanted to give you a good memory to remember 1855 by.”

  “Well, you’ve most certainly done it. This is a train ride I’ll never forget.”

  Ginger watched as her father and Charles Gray took their seats directly across from Ginger and Basil. Then the train with its fourteen cars pulled away from the depot slowly. Ginger glanced out the window at the crowd, which had gathered, despite the weather, to cheer them on their way. She searched the group for the one face that haunted her nightly dreams, but to no avail. She had purposely not asked Basil about Joseph, knowing it would widen the chasm between them. Sighing softly, she bundled up her thoughts of Joseph and put them away, attempting to join in the revelry of the crowd.

  The atmosphere inside the train did not match the gloomy, heavy weather outside. People laughed, cheered, and sipped the drinks served to them. A small band had boarded the train, filling the air with lively music and adding to the festivities. The crowd began to sing along to the familiar strains of Stephen Foster’s latest tune, “Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming.”

  Basil managed to snag four drinks from the tray of a waiter making his way slowly through the clogged car. He handed flutes of champagne to Ginger, his father, and Mr. Gray, and then raised his own glass in a toast. “Here’s to those of us who were smart enough to invest in the railroad and to be invited along on this inaugural ride.”

  Many of those around them cheered and raised their glasses along with Basil. He laughed as most of the car joined in the toast with celebratory champagne. Soon, the mood in the car became even livelier, as the drinks kept flowing. The volume of the crowd grew louder as the drinks lessened restraint. More voices joined the chorus of the songs, although most seemed unaware of the melody they were supposed to be following.

  The train slowed or stopped at each little town along the way, to the delight of the locals who had gathered along the route to witness this historic event, which was certain to be talked about for years. Basil pointed out several landmarks on the way as they slowly rolled west of St. Louis.

  “I’ve never seen so much open space,” Ginger marveled. “New York, or for that matter, the entire East Coast, is so crowded. Why don’t more people move here and buy up some of this land?”

  “Most of what you’re looking at is land the Indians have claim to. The government is systematically forcing them onto reservations so we can civilize the West, but it’ll take time.”

  “Ah, of course, the uncivilized Indians ... ” She trailed off and glanced at Basil.

  “To answer your unspoken question, no, I have not seen Joseph since my return. During the morning at the cabin in the Hamptons, I asked him never to talk to me again, and he’s honored my request. I hear his father has been awarded the contract to supply horses to the city when the new trolley cars start up, so I know they’re doing well. But Joseph has stayed clear of town, or at least the part I inhabit. For all I know, he may have gone to Canada to join his grandfather and his younger brother.”

  “Do you miss him? After all, you two were best friends.”

  “I do miss him. We had some grand times together. And I own up to my part in the debacle in New York. But, despite everything, I can’t forgive him for toying with your affections.”

  “You make it sound like I had no part in what transpired. We weren’t just playing
with each other, Basil. I fell deeply in love with him.”

  “But now that you know what his heritage is, surely you’ve come to your senses?”

  Ginger sighed as she patted her brother’s hand. “And here I was thinking you had matured since the summer. You’re still a very small-minded man, Basil. For the sake of our family, let’s just agree to disagree on the matter of Joseph’s suitability. Unless you’ve changed your mind, I don’t want to talk about him.”

  When Basil didn’t reply, Ginger said, “All right then, let’s put Joseph aside for now. I want to know what would have happened if Annie Schemerhorn had never come up with the idea of a Cotillion and I never would have suffered through the torturous season. You know I was on my way here to help you with the bank. Would you have let me take my rightful place, or would you have continued to be so narrow-minded about a woman working outside the home?”

  Basil shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “Ginger, I know you’re very talented at picking companies to support, and you’ve helped the bank’s bottom line tremendously. But, still and all, Father has indulged you, giving you an office at the bank and allowing you to leave the house every day and work alongside him. He even wrote and told me he offered to install you as an officer in the bank. I advised him not to be so foolish, and to recant his offer. Such disgraceful behavior is not to be tolerated in a woman of your station. So, although I would have welcomed a visit from you, I would not have allowed you an office space. It’s my bank, after all.”

  Ginger glared at him. “Do you remember what you said when you heard about your actress Rachel’s death? You said you had been a self-centered ass all summer. I think the time of year had nothing to do with it. You’re still a self-centered ass!”

  “Let’s not fight today, okay? I will never embrace women’s rights, as you and Amelia Bloomer refer to them. And, I know as long as you think you and Joseph might end up together, there’s no hope for us getting along on that score — we are on totally opposite sides. I regret ever bringing him into our lives. I may be an ass, but you’re a fool if you think you could ever fit into Joseph’s life here. It’s best you forget him and move along.”

  Ginger sighed as she turned her gaze back to the scenery. Her eyes filled with unexpected tears, making the rainy countryside even harder to see. She knew Basil was right. He was an ass, and she was a fool.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After several hours, the train reached the town of Hermann, seventy-eight miles west of St. Louis. The train stopped while another railcar was connected to it, bringing the total to fifteen. Basil muttered something about wanting to watch the cars be coupled together, left his seat, and wavered down the aisle.

  A company of uniformed soldiers and an additional group of musicians joined in the fun of the ride, filling up the final car. Strains of Johann Strauss’s “Radetzky March” filled the air as the band played patriotic tunes in honor of the troops. The commanding officers of the regiment moved through each car, introducing themselves. More champagne was poured and the festive atmosphere expanded. All the while, rain drenched the surrounding countryside, as the torrential downpour continued.

  One of the officers, Lieutenant David Whitman, stopped at the car containing the Fitzpatrick family and Charles Gray. He had been told Mr. Gray was one of the primary backers of the Pacific Railroad and special consideration should be given him. But, in truth, he wanted to talk to the fetching young lady who sat by herself a few feet away. He straightened his spine even more than his regular military stance as he strode down the aisle of the railroad car.

  “May I join you?” Lt. Whitman asked, hoping for a nod or some gesture from Ginger.

  When she smiled up at him, he introduced himself and dropped into Basil’s empty seat. He removed his hat and his dark brown hair curled onto his forehead. His deep blue eyes sparkled as he took in Ginger’s comely shape.

  “So, do you have some holdings with the railroad as well, Miss Fitzpatrick?”

  Ginger’s glance moved over the fine uniform the tall man was wearing before she replied, “I am a huge supporter of the railroads, yes. I hold some stock in them, and I have been advising Mr. Gray with his portfolio. I think railroads are the key to settling the vast American West.”

  David Whitman’s expression revealed his surprise. He had expected a refined East Coast lady, but her intelligence regarding the westward expansion of America was unexpected and welcomed. He grinned at her and made himself comfortable in the seat. He was going to enjoy this ride after all.

  “I agree with you. But, until we get the Indian population under control, we won’t be able to claim the land as ours. They are fighting us mightily.”

  Ginger bristled. “And why wouldn’t they? This is their land, after all. How can we Europeans just waltz in here and run them off? I’d fight you, too, if I were an Indian!”

  David released a small, frustrated sigh. Trying to explain the Indians to an Easterner was like trying to advance the cause of slavery to a Northerner.

  “Believe me, if there was any way Indians and whites could coexist, we would be more than willing to try it. But the Indians feel they can roam over any land and slaughter or steal any livestock they come upon. Nor do they like it when land gets fenced in — they don’t understand the concept of fences. They think all the land should be free to roam. You can see the problems their attitude would cause for a family trying to scratch out a living in this hard country.”

  “I do understand the point of view of the families who come west trying to forge a new life for themselves, and I applaud their spirit. But I also can comprehend the Indians’ side of things — they have lived here for centuries. Unfortunately, that’s my problem in many arenas. I can see both sides of the coin.”

  David smiled at the small, yet determined woman. “Well, we don’t have to solve all the problems of the world in one day. Why don’t you tell me about your life back East? I haven’t been there in years, and I long for news of home.”

  “What part of the East Coast do you hail from?”

  “I’m from Savannah, Georgia, and I do miss it.”

  “Ah, yes, the South.”

  David studied his seatmate. “Have you spent time in the South, Miss Fitzpatrick?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I’ve never been farther south than Washington, but I’ve read about the southern lifestyle. Do you think you’ll return to the East when your commission expires, or will you settle out here?”

  “Good question. I suppose the answer will depend on whether I could find a wife while I’m still on the frontier. I may be forced to go back East, for truly fine, upstanding women are a rate commodity in the West.” His gaze appraised her again and he smiled. “Now, tell me everything that’s been going on in the civilized part of the country.”

  Ginger returned his gaze, letting her eyes wander over his face. With a twinkle in her eyes, she asked, “Have you ever heard of Amelia Bloomer?”

  • • •

  George Fitzpatrick watched Ginger and David, who were deep in conversation. Then he shifted his gaze to Charles. He had a grin on his face.

  “It looks like our plan is working,” George said. “I haven’t seen Ginger this animated in months.”

  “Yes, she does seem to be enjoying this train ride. Having a dashing young soldier hanging on her every word is an added bonus. I’m so glad she decided to come with us.”

  “Yes, it was the right thing to do. She’s been nearly beside herself with excitement since we began planning this trip. She tried to hide her enthusiasm, but I know her too well.”

  “Letting me convince her to come was the right call,” Charles said. “You do know how to handle the women in your life.”

  “Well, Ginger is a lot like her mother, and I’ve had twenty-five years of experience learning Charlotte’s habits. With all the daughters in our family, I
’ve been forced to learn how to get along with women. We Fitzpatrick men are outnumbered, aren’t we, Basil?”

  Basil studied the older gentlemen. “Yes, we are, Father. I wish I had your adroitness and could figure out how to get back into Ginger’s good graces like you’ve done. It seems she’s going to be angry with me for the rest of our lives.”

  “Give her some time. I’m confident you’ll work things out, sooner or later. But you have to understand her thinking, if you’re ever going to come to a resolution. A woman’s place in this country is changing, whether we men like it or not. Some women still enjoy being cared for and coddled by men, but Ginger isn’t one of them. I marvel every day at the way her mind works, and she’s been a vital reason why our bank is so successful. She needs a strong man beside her, to keep up with her and make her truly happy. And there was no man this past season who fit the bill.” He turned to the man seated next to him. “Sorry, Charles, I know your son was one of the men she spent time with.”

  “Quite all right, George. I know Quentin is not a strong man — not yet, anyway. But with Jane Livingstone telling him what to do, he will have to develop a spine, just to keep her from rolling over him.”

  George laughed softly as he lit his pipe. “Yes, I expect he will.”

  Basil pulled a couple of cheroots out of his jacket pocket, and offered one to Mr. Gray. The men sat quietly in the car with the rain sloshing outside, enjoying their tobacco as they watched the countryside roll by slowly.

  After several minutes, Basil asked, “It’s a shame, is it not, that the railroad provided dashing young officers for the ladies, but no dance hall girls for us gentlemen?”

  Charles and George grinned in agreement. “Maybe they just expect the men to marvel at the mechanical construction of this machine,” Charles replied. “Would you two care to join me up toward the front of the train so we can look at it firsthand?”

  “You and Basil go on ahead,” George said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Ginger and her young man. Charlotte would have my head if she thought I left our daughter without a chaperone for even a minute of this adventure.”