Westward the Dream

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Westward the Dream Page 12

by Judith Pella; Tracie Peterson


  But in the morning, Jordana had no better idea of what to do for Caitlan than she had had in the middle of the night. Dressing for morning devotions, Jordana bit her lip and pondered the problem with grave concern.

  A loud knocking on the door startled both girls. Jordana and Caitlan exchanged looks of sheer panic before Jordana motioned Caitlan to get under the bed.

  Opening the door, Jordana beamed an innocent smile at one of her classmates. “Good morning, Sylvia.”

  “Good morning, Jordana. Mistress Deighton has sent me to collect you. She says you are to come straightaway to her office.”

  Jordana felt the blood drain from her head. Somehow, the headmistress must have found out about Caitlan. No doubt she would severely punish Jordana for her indiscretion. Maybe even expel her.

  “I’ll be right there,” Jordana said, swallowing hard. She closed the door and whispered to her stowaway, “I don’t know if Mistress Deighton knows about you or not, but stay here and keep out of sight. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She finished tying back her hair and hurried downstairs.

  Bolstering her courage, Jordana lifted her hand to the headmistress’s door and knocked. The door opened, but instead of finding Mistress Deighton, Jordana was astonished by the sight of her brother.

  “Brenton!” she cried and ran across the room to throw herself into her brother’s arms. “Oh, Brenton, you are a godsend. I was so worried about you, and you only wrote the one time, and I thought I might never see you again.”

  Brenton laughed at her enthusiasm and set her away from him. “That might well have been true, but everything has changed. I’ll save that story for later. For now, you’ll be happy to know I’ve come back for good. I had a letter from Mother and Father, and they want us to stay as far from the war as possible. I knew you’d want to read it, so I brought it with me.”

  Jordana took the letter and tucked it into her pocket. “Brenton, you can’t know how pleased that makes me! And the timing of your return couldn’t be more perfect. I have a rather pressing problem to solve,” she said, suddenly remembering Caitlan.

  “Oh? I thought you were going to stay out of trouble while I was gone.”

  “I did,” she said with a coy grin. “But this isn’t really my problem. Well, it is, but . . .” She glanced around the room and pulled Brenton to the window. “Caitlan’s hiding in my room upstairs.”

  “What!”

  She put her hand to his mouth. “Shh. The headmistress will hear you.” She glanced around the room. “By the way, where is she?”

  “She went to get your records.”

  “Why?”

  “I told her we’d changed our minds about your being here this summer.”

  Jordana stared at him in wonder. “Truly? You’re going to let me out of here?”

  “Don’t make it sound like I’ve locked you in a prison.”

  “Well, that’s how it feels,” Jordana replied but quickly moved on. “Look, Caitlan’s in trouble. I’ll explain it all later, but for now we have to make a plan. We need to get her out of New York, so I thought maybe we could all go to Baltimore and—”

  “No, we can’t go there,” Brenton replied.

  “Why not?”

  “You wouldn’t believe what’s going on there just now. I think we’d be much better off to stick it out here.”

  “But Caitlan is being accused of stealing from the Vanderbilts. She didn’t do it, of course,” Jordana added quickly at the look of shock on Brenton’s face. “The old commodore was being too fresh with her, and apparently his watch came off and rolled under her bed.”

  “What was the commodore doing in her bedroom?”

  “You know what he was doing,” Jordana countered, continuing to glance around suspiciously. “Anyway, the housekeeper threatened to turn her over to the police, and the commodore will only help if Caitlan is more cooperative with him—the scoundrel! So she ran away, and now we have to help her get out of New York.”

  “I see what you mean,” Brenton said thoughtfully.

  “Since we can’t go back to Baltimore, maybe we should go to Oakbridge,” Jordana suggested.

  Brenton shook his head sadly. “That wouldn’t work either. No one is there, except the Union army. Many of the homes around the Potomac have been confiscated for the army’s use. Uncle York has joined the Confederate army, and his family has gone—I don’t know where. Probably to stay with relatives in the deep South. So have Aunt Virginia and the girls. I saw Nathan—in fact, he saved my life.”

  “What!”

  “I’ll explain it all to you later. Look, I’m not sure what we can do at present. Perhaps Mrs. Clairmont has space at the boardinghouse, though I gave up my own room when I left. I’ve gotten us rooms in a hotel temporarily. Caitlan could stay in your room until we figure out what to do and find more permanent lodgings.”

  “Do we have money?” Jordana asked.

  “Some. Why?”

  “Why don’t we take her to Kiernan? I mean, it’s summer and you are pulling me from school. You want to go west and photograph the country, and Caitlan must get out of New York and away from the commodore.”

  “We don’t have that much money at our disposal.”

  “Then why don’t we at least go as far as we can?”

  “It wouldn’t be reasonable. Mother and Father would never approve of it.”

  “They are very obviously not here,” Jordana countered. “Caitlan needs us, Brenton. We can’t let her down.”

  “I don’t intend to let her down. What about Meg? Maybe we could take Caitlan to their farm. The commodore would never dream of going there, and Caitlan would be safe until we could figure out what to do. In fact, if I know Meg’s father, he’d probably be open to hearing the whole story and still offer his protection.”

  “Yes,” Jordana nodded. “Yes, I didn’t think of that.” It was such a logical solution that Jordana realized more than ever how much she needed her brother. However, she was just a little disappointed that the adventure of a desperate flight from the city had been nixed. Trying to be more practical, she added, “Meg has extended an open invitation to me. I’ll send a message to her right away and let her know what has happened.”

  “Then the matter seems under control for the moment at least,” Brenton said with a smile. “It’s so good to see you again. I feel like I’ve been gone for years instead of just weeks.”

  Jordana chuckled joyfully. “Mother always said we were more like inseparable twins.”

  Brenton laughed, then sobered rather suddenly. “You know, we still have the matter of sneaking Caitlan out of your room. How do you propose we accomplish that?”

  Jordana shrugged. “She could go back out the way she came in, but I think she’d probably protest. I know—why don’t you keep the headmistress busy, and I’ll get her downstairs and outside? I’ll tell her to meet us in the garden by the big fountain. There’s plenty of places to hide out there, and I’m sure she’ll be just fine until we can get to her.”

  “All right. You go along, then, and I’ll keep the warden busy,” he teased with a smile that lit up his eyes.

  “What fun we shall have now that you’re home!” Jordana exclaimed. “Without you, I might have perished from boredom.”

  Brenton shook his head. “Never. You make excitement wherever you go. Father always said you were a one-woman circus, and now I know why.”

  Jordana smiled smugly and tilted her chin in the air. God had answered her prayers and suddenly everything seemed perfect. Her life was her own again and Brenton was back. Nothing bad could happen to them now.

  15

  “I think it’s terribly rude to make Caitlan pose as my maid,” Jordana protested to Brenton as she clung to the rail of the Staten Island ferry.

  “I don’t like it any better than you, but to do otherwise would arouse suspicion,” Brenton replied.

  “He’s right,” Meg affirmed. “My father will love hiding Caitlan out from my grandfather, but he will ne
ver accept her as an equal. No insult intended, Caitlan,” she added with an apologetic glance at the extra traveling companion.

  “None taken,” Caitlan said, then turned to Jordana. “Don’t be frettin’ about this, Jordana. Ya’ll see. ’Tis the best way we can be dealin’ with the matter.”

  Jordana frowned and Brenton watched her walk away from the group as if needing time to think it all through.

  “Meg, would you be so kind as to keep Caitlan company while I talk to my sister?”

  “Of course,” Meg said, smiling sweetly.

  Brenton nodded, gave a curt bow, and hurried off to join Jordana.

  “I hate the ferry ride,” Jordana said without turning around to acknowledge Brenton’s presence.

  “I know you do.”

  “It’s just so frustrating to have to stand about waiting.”

  “It’s better than swimming,” Brenton offered.

  “Marginally.”

  “Please don’t fret over Caitlan. We aren’t trying to demean her. It’s just that some folks refuse to see things as we do. Mamma taught us to be kind to all people—to not judge them by the way they talked or the color of their skin. But you have to know that our family was the exception. Remember how the different factions of Irish even fought amongst themselves?”

  Jordana nodded. “I remember. Kiernan said it was because they held different beliefs and interests, and some just fought for the sake of fighting.”

  “Right. Folks here in America are no different.”

  “It doesn’t mean we play along with it,” Jordana protested.

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t. However, this is a bad situation. We need to get Caitlan away from the false accusations. That’s what matters now.”

  The ferry docked and Brenton took hold of Jordana’s arm. “Come on. It’ll just be us playing parts. Caitlan understands.”

  Jordana turned and gazed toward the shore. “It’s not only that.”

  “What, then?”

  “I guess coming back here also forces me to think about G.W. Nothing seems fair or right, and G.W. figures into that as much as Caitlan. He hates me, Brenton. I asked Caitlan about him, but she couldn’t tell me anything. Apparently the commodore has whisked him away to some sanatorium to recover. They believe he has tuberculosis. He refused all my letters,” she said in a rather distant voice.

  “Your rejection wounded him deeply, but he’ll get over it.”

  Jordana gazed up to meet Brenton’s eyes. “But I didn’t reject him. Why must a man think that a rejection of marriage is always a rejection of the man himself?”

  “Because generally it is,” Brenton replied softly.

  “The loss of his friendship has left a hole in my heart. First he went away and then you . . .” Her words trailed off as she reached her gloved hand over to hold tightly to Brenton. “Please don’t leave me again. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Brenton smiled. “We’ll both go our way one day, and it will be good and right. But until then, I’ll take good care of you.”

  “I shall never go away from you,” Jordana protested.

  Brenton touched her nose with the tip of his finger. “You are such a goose. One day you will find the perfect man, and you will marry and settle down to a happy life.”

  “Not for a good long time,” Jordana replied. “I have no desire to marry anyone.”

  “What if I find a wonderful woman to marry—?”

  “And then you won’t need me anymore. We won’t have our wonderful talks, and you’ll move far away with her and raise a family and take your pictures.” She looked as though she might go into a full pout. “And I shall pretend to be ever so happy for you both, but inside I shall know that I’ve lost my best friend.”

  “Let us not put the cart before the horse,” Brenton teased. “I haven’t taken a wife yet.”

  They rejoined Meg and Caitlan and said very little until they arrived at the Vanderbilt farm. Billy Vanderbilt, Meg’s father, greeted them and, after hearing the entire story of Caitlan’s plight, laughed heartily, though sympathetically, and declared he might well have a solution.

  “But I don’t understand,” Billy Vanderbilt interjected. “Why are you so devoted to a servant girl? I mean, I thoroughly enjoy thwarting Father’s efforts to force the poor child into reprehensible behavior, but I hardly understand your part. Why should you be responsible for getting her to her brother in the West, and why should you have to go along with her?”

  His question was directed to Brenton, but before Brenton could answer, Jordana jumped up from her seat, nearly spilling a freshly served cup of tea.

  “Because her brother is married to our sister!” Everyone gasped in surprise at this declaration, but Jordana appeared unconcerned. “No one wants to be truthful about the matter for fear it might leave a bad taste in your mouth, but frankly, Mr. Vanderbilt, lying leaves a bad taste in mine. Caitlan is very nearly family, and I won’t have her relegated to the scullery so that upper society might refrain from discomfort.” She crossed her arms defiantly across her chest and stood her ground.

  Brenton and Meg stared dumfounded for several seconds before Billy began to roar with laughter. “Well said! This makes much more sense now. Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the first place?”

  Jordana took her seat and stared smugly at Brenton, who immediately felt he should be the spokesman for the matter. “We simply weren’t thinking clearly, Mr. Vanderbilt. Our concerns have overwhelmed us, and all I can do is beg your pardon.”

  “I pardon your lies, for although uncalled for, they were given for the best of intentions. However, I do not pardon my father’s snobbery, nor his lascivious behavior. My father would do well to remember his own humble roots.”

  “Beggin’ yar pardon, sir, but I found yar father’s servants to be far more difficult than hisself. So ya see, there are levels to be maintained no matter yar station,” Caitlan said shyly.

  Billy nodded. “Well, I think you are all admirable for your pursuits. I’m also quite eager to discuss a little business idea with you, Mr. Baldwin. You say you intend to take photographs of the American wilderness. Is this something you believe yourself to be talented at?”

  Brenton felt his cheeks grow hot. “My former employer said I am. All I truly know is that I love doing it.”

  Billy considered this for a moment. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse us, I believe I might be able to provide young Mr. Baldwin with a solution.”

  The girls looked at each other, then at Billy. They were obviously curious about what the men would discuss, and they were hesitant to be shooed away. They were three headstrong young women, yet they also knew when they had reached their limit, so in unison they rose and exited the room with the briefest of glances over their shoulders. Had the moment not been so intriguing to Brenton, he might have laughed out loud at the little train of maidens as they seemed to puff from the room.

  “You want to go west and photograph the countryside,” Billy said when he and Brenton were alone. He went to a secretary and opened a drawer, and pulling out a thick stack of bound papers, he held them aloft. “I have here the beginnings of a major investment scheme. My father believes me to be a simpleton and a dimwit, but in truth, he is the one whose vision is shortsighted. He feels comfortable with his New York empire. He has his railroad and his millions, and he believes the world trembles at his every word.

  “But I, on the other hand, see the potential of expanding this country. Sad though it may seem, this war might well be the best thing in the world for the growth of this nation.”

  “How can you say that?” Brenton could not hide his distaste at such a statement, especially after what he had experienced in the last month.

  “It’s a simple matter of economics. No,” Billy said, pausing to reconsider, “it is more than that. The war, however long it lasts, will end, and then people will seek to heal their wounds. This country will not be divided for long. It’s no different than an argumentative man and his wife. They are
bound to each other, and a separation is more costly than staying together. When the war ends, people will desire to get on with their lives. Moving west will appeal to their sense of adventure and their need to focus on something less destructive.”

  “But without sounding callous, because I am hardly without feeling when it comes to this war,” Brenton began, “where do I fit into your scheme?”

  Billy chuckled and brought the papers with him. “Mr. Baldwin, the potential is there to set the investment in place prior to the war’s ending. If you were to go west, under my financing, and take photographs on my behalf, even act as my land agent, I would have these to offer my potential investors. They would have a chance to survey the West and see the possibilities for themselves.”

  “To what end?”

  Billy pushed aside delicate china cups and saucers and plopped the papers down on the artfully carved table. “To the end that I could convince them that their world is much larger than they think, and in doing so, allow them to participate in the westward dream.”

  “So I would photograph the country, and you would convince men to invest their money and futures in the great American wilderness.”

  “If your pictures speak half the volume I see in your eyes, they should do just that. You would also become my eyes and ears west of the Mississippi. By relaying information to me from the West, and by my own ingenuity and supply of information in the East, I can assign you monies to purchase land for me with the hopes that such purchases will prove advantageous.”

  Brenton smiled. “And you would be willing to back my trip—to help me get Caitlan to California in the process?”

  Billy nodded. He smiled and leaned forward. “In fact, she may stay here until the arrangements are made for your journey. My wife can always use another hand with the household. Mr. Baldwin, I believe we can work together on this and benefit both dreams. What say you?”

  “I say this may well be the answer to prayer I’ve been seeking,” Brenton said with a smile. “And I know it will meet with Jordana’s approval.”

 

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