Victoria took the much-welcomed mail and smiled. “Thank you so much.”
The man muttered something incoherent and shuffled down the hall to continue his deliveries. Victoria didn’t mind that he wasn’t the type to make small talk. She was too excited about the letters in her hands. Mail rarely came to them with all their moving around, and glancing down to read the script, she felt her heart skip a beat at the unmistakable handwriting of her mother.
Hurrying to the table, Victoria put the other letter down and opened her mother’s missive with great delight. It had been over a year since she’d had any word from anyone back east.
Dearest Victoria,
Lest we seem remiss in our communications, I must apologize and tell you of our circumstances. We returned to America in February, only to find that Baltimore had become a city of great unrest. The war has escalated to a point that gave your father great fear for the safety of his children and thus has hastened our return home.
Our solicitor, Mr. Marcum, passed away some weeks ago, and in his passing, a great deal was left undone. I suppose this war is to blame for much of it, but in spite of this, there have come several issues to my attention that I felt should be shared with you.
The most important is that Brenton and Jordana have taken it upon their shoulders to leave New York and journey west with Kiernan’s sister Caitlan.
Victoria gasped. Kiernan’s sister was in America! But when had this happened and why hadn’t anyone notified them? Victoria thought of the letters she’d sent to the solicitor and realized quickly that the man had probably been too ill to forward word of their ever-changing location to Kiernan’s family in Ireland. She quickly read on.
We haven’t a fixed location on where Brenton and Jordana are at the present. Apparently they are working on some photography project of Brenton’s, or so the correspondence he’s forwarded would imply. Your father is even now trying to get information regarding their precise whereabouts. We’ve had no word of York or Virginia and feel rather hard-pressed as we pray for our scattered family.
The rest of the letter was mostly news about their time abroad and how much Carolina missed Victoria. She also expressed her worries about the war and concluded the letter by giving Victoria a new address for them in New York City. It seemed that her mother and father both felt New York would be safer than remaining in Baltimore or Washington.
Victoria reread the letter twice before settling back to consider the contents. Caitlan was somewhere in America, making her way to California. In fact, her own brother and sister were accompanying her. How wonderful it would be to see Brenton and Jordana again! They had both been children when Victoria had headed west, and now they would be grown.
Then a worrisome thought came to mind. How long had they been making the journey? When had they started, and by what means were they making their way west? The letter said nothing of this.
Her first reaction had been to give Kiernan the news of his sister’s arrival in America, but with these thoughts spinning through her head, Victoria began to wonder if that would be foolish. He already had so much to worry about, and if she told him that Caitlan and Brenton and Jordana were somewhere en route to California—well, he might insist on going out to meet them. And even if he didn’t, Victoria knew there would be no living with him until he knew they were safely in his care.
She folded the letter and put it in her pocket. Perhaps it would be better to say nothing. She picked up the other envelope and began to open it. The only writing on the outside was a feminine penning of her own name.
Victoria,
Please meet me for lunch at the Tea Room on J street. Eleven-thirty.
Anna
What fun! Victoria thought. It was so like Anna to do something like this to boost her spirits. She glanced at the clock and was startled to see that it was already eleven o’clock. She would have to hurry to get ready in order to meet Anna on time.
She took Anna’s invitation and the letter from her mother and tucked both inside the quilt pieces and put them back into the trunk. Kiernan would never think to go snooping there, so the news about Caitlan would be safe for a time. She wondered how she could possibly keep the issue from her husband until Caitlan’s arrival, but then she thought of the fact that he would no doubt be joining Charlie Crocker up at Donner Pass for most of the spring and summer. That should give the trio more than enough time to make their way to California, she surmised.
Dressing in her favorite lavender afternoon dress, Victoria struggled to get the last few buttons done up. It was always nice to dress when Kiernan was present in order to have him help her, but she knew he wasn’t due home until later that day and would have to make do herself. Finally accomplishing the task, Victoria carefully styled her hair and pinned a net around the bulk of it. Feeling quite smart, she pulled on white gloves, again a discard of Anna Judah, and took up her small purse. She hadn’t been treated to luncheon out since the last time Anna had gotten the idea for them to share the afternoon in fashionable splendor. No doubt they would walk to one of the parks and enjoy the fine spring day after dining on delicacies from the Tea Room.
Victoria hurried down the stairs, then forced herself to calm. There was no sense in making a spectacle of herself. She felt a surge of excitement, however. A day out, a wonderful letter from home—it was all enough to help spring her from her depressed state. She would simply forget about the concerns of the day and enjoy herself. There would be plenty of time to take up her miseries when the evening came.
The Tea Room had been designed as a fashionable gathering place for ladies of society. Victoria felt quite honored when the maitre d’ appeared and led her to a small, secluded table. A fine Irish linen cloth graced the top, and at the center of this was a small bouquet of carnations and lilies of the valley. Victoria allowed the man to seat her and waited in awe for Anna to appear.
The establishment had several rooms, most with only a few tables per area in order to give the diners a feeling of privacy and leisure. Victoria immediately relaxed and remembered with fondness a place she and her mother had loved to frequent in Baltimore. They had gone shopping for her bridal trousseau and paused in the midst of their mounting purchases to enjoy lunch together. These were the memories Victoria faced with bittersweetness, for they both bolstered her soul and discouraged her heart all at the same time.
“I wasn’t sure you would come.”
The masculine voice caused Victoria to start. She looked up to find Christopher Thorndike standing over her table.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, forcing herself to sound unconcerned by his presence.
Thorndike grinned conspiratorially and took the seat opposite her at the small table. “I suppose some explanation is in order,” he said, his dark eyes piercing her facade of control.
“I’m afraid you can’t stay here,” Victoria began. “I’m meeting a friend.”
“Yes, I know. Anna Judah.”
He said the words so matter-of-factly that Victoria instantly knew she was in trouble. “You sent the invitation.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied, leaning forward. “I inquired around and learned you and Mrs. Judah were friends. I knew you would not have come to meet me under any other circumstance.”
“And Anna is not coming?” Victoria already knew the answer.
“No.”
He seemed to challenge her with his expression. Victoria knew in that moment she should get up and leave. She realized, too, that Thorndike expected her to make one move or another—to either accept his scandalous behavior or snub him and leave, as was her right.
His expression softened. “Please don’t be angry with me. I couldn’t help myself.”
Victoria felt her armor slip away. “No?” she said, her voice almost a squeak.
He reached across and caught hold of her gloved hand. “I so thoroughly enjoyed your company on the night of the party. You are so different from other women, and I knew I had to see you again. And h
ere you are, more lovely than ever.”
Victoria warmed under his scrutiny. There was something almost mesmerizing about the man, and Victoria found rational thought leave her. “I’m . . . I’m . . . not sure—”
“Not sure of what?” Thorndike interjected the question as though this were nothing more than a passing hello.
“I’m married,” she finally managed to say.
He chuckled softly, causing the hair on the back of her neck to prickle. “Yes, I’m well aware of your Irish-tempered husband. Quite the bully, eh?”
Victoria shook her head, trying to force herself to look away. “He’s not.”
“He didn’t seem to care at all what you wanted the night of the dance. Why, people at the party were appalled that he should so callously drag you from the room.”
Victoria felt her face grow hot. Her breathing quickened, and for a moment she actually thought she might be sick. “I should go,” she murmured.
“Nonsense. We are in a public establishment, and no one can fault you for having tea with a friend.”
“But you are hardly a friend, Mr. Thorndike.”
He frowned and looked almost hurt by this statement. “I thought us to be at least that.”
Victoria fought against her emotions. She reminded herself of Kiernan’s anger over the flowers, but as soon as this thought came to mind, she also remembered that he had apologized. He had told her there was nothing wrong in her behavior. It wasn’t the same as saying that it had been acceptable for Thorndike to send the flowers, but it assuaged her guilt for the words she uttered next.
“I suppose we can be friendly acquaintances.”
He tightened his hold, and only then did Victoria realize that he still held her hand. “Perhaps we can be infinitely more.”
“No, that wouldn’t be proper,” Victoria replied, pulling her hand away from his. “Mr. Thorndike, my husband does not approve of your attention toward me.”
“No doubt,” the man replied and leaned back in his chair. “I show him up.”
“What?”
“I make him see where he fails to meet your need.”
Victoria knew Kiernan already felt inadequate. Perhaps that was the reason for his anger at Thorndike’s actions. It wasn’t that she had done anything improper—at least, not by western society. But Thorndike made Kiernan feel remiss in having spent the evening sequestered away with his railroad cronies. Victoria suddenly felt a weight of guilt removed from her shoulders. If Kiernan felt guilty for having left her to her own devices, then why should that be her problem?
“Victoria,” Thorndike said her name softly—seductively—foregoing any pretense at formality. “I didn’t come here to discuss your husband. I merely wanted to see you again. I enjoy talking with a woman of intelligence, and I find your interest in the railroad to be fascinating. Please agree to stay to lunch with me. I promise nothing improper will happen.”
Victoria realized she was being foolish. They were in a public place, albeit a rather secluded one. But it wouldn’t be long before other diners gathered in their little alcove.
“All right,” she found herself replying. “Just this once.”
He smiled, his dark eyes gleaming. “Just this once.”
Nearly two hours later, Victoria was amazed to find that the time had slipped away so quickly. She was also surprised by the fact that no one else had come to join them in their room. The two other tables had remained conspicuously empty.
Thorndike had asked her a million questions. Furthermore, he’d openly and honestly listened to her answers. Victoria found herself confiding things in him that she would never have thought to share with another man. She told him of her homesickness, of longing to see Washington and Baltimore and her family. She shared her worries about the Civil War and how dreadful it was to think that she had family on both sides of the issue. Thorndike had been sympathetic and reassuring, explaining to her the details of several battles and how unlikely it would be that any of these would cause harm to her beloved cities or loved ones. She thought perhaps he had simplified things a bit too much, treating her as though she were too precious to be burdened with the truth. But she almost preferred that to knowing the details that frightened her so much. Kiernan, who rarely shared any conversation with her these days unless it pertained to the railroad, was always quite forthright with his opinions. He never seemed overly worried that his comments might cause her grief, whereas Thorndike seemed to care greatly.
She refrained from allowing him to escort her home, reminding him that to be seen together would imply something other than the truth. She left him standing by the table, a warm, deliciously pleasant smile upon his face and an intriguing gleam in his eye.
“Until we meet again,” he whispered and kissed her hand.
Victoria shook her head. “That mustn’t happen, Mr. Thorndike. For reasons of which we are both very much aware.”
She exited the Tea Room and breathed deeply of the afternoon air. What had she done? She felt her breath come in quick gasps as she considered how her actions would be perceived by anyone who had witnessed her that day in the restaurant. Why did she have to feel so confused? How was it that this man could disarm all of her convictions with a single glance?
She picked up her pace and was determined to go see Anna. She had to have someone else’s perspective on this, and Anna would be the only one to understand. But upon arriving at the Judah home, Victoria was met at the door by an obviously pregnant Li.
“Mistress gone. She be back plenty soon,” the tiny almond-eyed girl told her.
“Please tell her I called,” Victoria instructed, then turned quickly for home.
I don’t understand my feelings, Victoria told herself. I don’t know what to do. I love my husband, but everything seems so wrong. Christopher makes me feel cared about. He listens to me. He opens his heart and soul to me.
She pressed her hands to her forehead and tried to force out the disturbing thoughts.
“I love you, Kiernan,” she whispered, grateful no one was nearby to hear her talking to herself. For some reason it did nothing to ease her sense of panic. Something was happening to her—something out of her control.
28
Brenton struggled to harness the two draft horses to the wagon. He had no one to blame but himself for the fact that his life had so completely turned upside down. It had started with the collodion photograph he’d sent to Vanderbilt. Billy had been so impressed by the quality of the picture that he insisted Brenton make all the photographs from this process. Brenton had tried to explain that in order to travel and maintain a supply of collodion processing equipment and chemicals, he would have to purchase a wagon and additional supplies, but Billy didn’t care. He simply ordered Brenton to buy whatever he needed and to draw on the draft of funds he would wire to one of the Kansas City banks.
Brenton knew he should be glad for the opportunity, but instead he worried about what all it involved. He now would have to care for horses and a wagon, not to mention keeping the proper supplies on hand. It also changed their lifestyle. Before, Billy had very graciously moved them from place to place aboard steam packers or trains, and always they had stayed in comfortable hotels or, at the least, proper boardinghouses. But now they would travel much slower, and Billy wanted detailed photographs of all the Missouri River towns.
In a discussion between Jordana and Caitlan, the decision had been made to purchase equipment that would allow the trio to remain on the road. The girls would help drive the wagon, but an additional horse would be purchased, and they would each alternate riding ahead of the slower team in order to check out the lay of the land and ensure that the path was clearly accessible to the wagon. Jordana thought it great fun to learn how to handle the larger geldings. The horses were thicker and more sturdy than the riding horses she had enjoyed as a girl. They were bigger, too, than the carriage horses she was used to seeing in and around the towns they visited. Caitlan, who’d had more experience than either Jord
ana or Brenton, easily showed them how to go about harnessing the team and hitching them to the wagon. She was undaunted by the size of the horses—undaunted, too, by the change in their travel plans.
Brenton admired her for her abilities. She never seemed to mind when he needed her help on one matter or another. In fact, she had taken quite an interest in his photography and was rapidly becoming an asset to him in that area as well.
The horse shifted, momentarily setting Brenton off balance as he tried to secure the lines. Putting his shoulder against the chestnut gelding, Brenton pushed with all his might until the animal was inclined to shift back in line with his partner.
Jordana laughed. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s harnessing whom.”
Brenton completed the task and pushed up his glasses with a grin. “Next time you can do the job.”
“I’m getting pretty good at it,” Jordana countered. “It might take me a while, but I’d get the job down.”
“Yes, but by then the war would be over and the railroad built and Billy would have no need of us to be out here in the American wilderness.”
“I’d hardly be callin’ Kansas City a wilderness,” Caitlan said, coming from behind the wagon. “Look, I’ve loaded the rest of those supplies. Will ya be needin’ anything else stored back there?”
Brenton shook his head. “No, I think that’s the last of it. Did you ladies get everything you need for the trip? Warm clothing? Blankets?”
“I have everything,” Jordana replied.
“Aye, I’m thinkin’ we’re as ready to head out as we could possibly be,” Caitlan answered.
“Well, then, I need to make my way to the bank,” Brenton said, dusting off his pants and donning his jacket. “I need to get our traveling funds and see if Billy has left any additional instructions. I’ll leave you ladies to stay with the wagon. I shouldn’t be long.” He mounted the saddle horse, then looked down at the two women who were his dearest friends in the world. “Now, you’re absolutely sure I can’t get you anything while I’m away?”
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