“Surely you can see where he would be worried about you?” Claire suggested.
Magdalena stood and moved to the windows overlooking the street. “I understand his concern,” she agreed, “but I don’t appreciate his interference in my life. I’m a suffragette, Claire, and these protests are important in the fight for women to have equal rights and standing with men. We can’t let violence or anything stop us from the momentum we’re gaining. It’s incredulous that women in the West have more rights than women here in the East! Our education should be helping us move toward advancement—not further away from it.”
“Claire. Magdalena.” Sully Clarke’s voice surprised both women, and they turned toward the parlor door.
“Sully!” Claire exclaimed, moving toward her husband.
Sully cupped his wife’s chin gently with his hand, tilted her head up, and planted a sound, thorough kiss on her waiting lips.”
Magdalena whirled back toward the windows, feeling like she was intruding on an intimate moment. The longing that flickered briefly through her belly surprised her. She didn’t want a man in her life. She didn’t!
“Please, Sully, join us,” Claire suggested breathlessly.
“I really should be going—“ Magdalena protested.
“No. Don’t leave, Magdalena. Claire has missed you and I’m leaving shortly to go back to my meetings. I’ll let you two—get back to your conversation.” He kissed Claire’s cheek, looked at Magdalena with a nod, then left.
Was that disdain she saw in his eyes, Magdalena wondered? Her eyes narrowed. She’d liked Sully, and was happy for her friend, but he’d never been clear on where he stood with the suffragette movement. How much of their conversation had he overheard?
Claire joined Mags by the window, taking her hand and pulling her back toward the settee. “Let’s see what we can do about this—two heads are better than one, yes?”
Magdalena smiled gratefully. She always felt better when she had a chance to talk things through with Claire. Although both strong-willed and independent, Claire had a knack for problem-solving, and that was exactly what Magdalena needed.
* * *
“So it’s settled. I’ll write the Sisters today. Sister Eloise told me they needed teachers for the orphans and was planning sessions in three-month increments. You have your degree and you’d be perfect for this. It will get you away from your father—and who knows—maybe you’ll find the man of your dreams and fall in love.” Claire’s blue eyes sparkled.
Magdalena rolled her eyes at Claire. “I have no intention of falling in love—now—or ever, but I think your idea is a good one. Maybe father and I just need a bit of time apart for him to see that I can make a difference in my life and I don’t need a husband to do it. I like it. You’re a genius!”
“I’m certain Mary would be happy for you to stay with her, and there’s a spare room at her house. You would also be welcome to stay with us when we’re in town. It’s closer to the orphanage, and it would be wonderful for us to have more time together!” Claire clapped her hands with glee.
“I’m not sure a newly wed couple needs me around as a guest,” Magdalena countered, pink appearing on each of her cheeks, “but it would be wonderful to see you more frequently.”
Claire’s cheeks flushed. “Don’t be silly. We would love to have you stay with us. Now you just have to convince your father that this is a good idea. I should know within the week if the Sister’s agree, and then we’ll get you on the next train to Bareglen Creek.”
FOUR
Magdalena stepped off the train.
“Magdalena! Magdalena, over here!” Mary Trost, Claire’s sister, called to the stunning, tall, honey-brown haired woman.
Magdalena searched the small crowd gathered at the train station, a smile lightening the exhaustion on her face when her eyes connected with Mary’s. The wind gusted, lifting her skirt, and she dropped her bag, focused on settling her skirt. “Mary!” She waved and turned back to grab her bag.
“Raphael,” Mary spoke to a young, dark-haired boy at her side, “please go help Miss. Allen with her bags.”
“Yes, Mrs. Trost!” Raphael raced toward Magdalena, scurrying around people as though he were a draft horse navigating barrels.
“Raphael, slow down,” Mary yelled after him as he came to a screeching halt in front of Magdalena.
Magdalena’s eyes widened, “Well, hello! And who might you be?”
“Hi, Miss. Allen, I’m Raphael and I’m here to help you with your baggage.”
“I see, well, if you can get the brown trunk over by the porter, I can carry this one. Do you think you can manage that?” Before she could utter another word, he was racing toward the porter at a full-out run.
Magdalena turned and made her way toward Mary, who could barely contain her laughter.
“He only has one speed,” Mary chuckled as her arms stretched, enveloping Magdalena in a hug. “It is so good to see you, my friend.”
“You, too,” Magdalena’s warm brown eyes sparkled into Mary’s before turning to check on Raphael’s progress. “Do you think he can manage—,” Magdalena’s voice choked.
Mary’s eyes shifted in the direction of Magdalena’s focus and then back to her with eyebrows raised. “Looks like Raphael has some help,” a knowing smile spreading on her face as she watched pink creep from Magdalena’s neck to her cheeks, “from the good doctor.”
“Humph. I’m quite certain Raphael could have managed.”
The women watched Doctor Holloway help the young boy lift the medium-sized trunk, Raphael struggling with his end. “Maybe, but Raphael loves Doc Holloway, and any and all contact with a good role model is important for him.”
Magdalena’s eyes were curious as she looked at Mary, but she refrained from questions as Raphael and Lance Holloway reached Mary’s side.
“Miss. Allen,” Doc Holloway’s eyes connected with Magdalena’s brown eyes and roamed over her face before moving to Mary’s.
“Doctor,” Magdalena bristled, the pink in her cheeks deepening.
“Miss. Mary, where would you like this?”
“In my wagon, thanks, Doc, and thank you, Raphael.” The child beamed under her praise.
Mary turned to lead the way toward the wagon and Magdalena followed.
“What are you doing here, Doctor?” Mary asked, curious what had brought him to the station.
He finished loading the trunk with Raphael’s help and turned, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m meeting Lee Jamison. He has a two-week break and decided to spend it with—me.”
It was Mary’s turn to look surprised as she dragged her eyes away from the doctor’s. “Oh, how nice,” but her voice was less than enthusiastic.
“I’ll take that for you, Miss. Allen. What brings you to Bareglen Creek?” Lance Holloway turned his attention toward Magdalena, his eyes resting on the dark circles under her eyes. He reached for the bag in her hand, their fingers brushing, and Magdalena let go quickly, pulling her hand back as though his were hot coals.
“I’m here to teach at the orphanage—and thank you,” she managed before abruptly moving toward the seat at the front of the carriage.
“She’s just tired from her trip,” Mary offered as an excuse for her Magdalena’s abrupt response.
“Yes, I can see that.” His eyes watched Magdalena’s progress toward the front of the carriage, worry creasing his brow. “I’ll make sure Raphael gets back to the orphanage. Take Magdalena home. She needs rest.”
In true Doctor Holloway fashion, it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.
Mary bit her lip—hard. This was going to be a very interesting three months. “Thanks, Doc Holloway. I’ll do that.”
FIVE
“I’ve drawn you a bath, Magdalena,” Mary offered as she walked into the guest room of her small, modest farmhouse. She lifted her gaze to the bed and smiled. Magdalena was stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, and fast asleep.
Mary debated whether she should wake h
er to undress or simply leave her. She decided on the latter. It was mid-afternoon and a short nap might be just what Magdalena needed. If she slept beyond that, she would wake her for dinner. Grabbing a knit blanket from the rocking chair in the corner, she gently laid it over her sister’s friend, quietly closing the door behind her.
Mary walked into the farmyard, meeting her brother, Jim Hawarden, as he was making his way toward the house, raising her hand to stop him.
“Is Magdalena settled?” He asked.
“Yes, and Magdalena has fallen asleep,” Mary chuckled. “She’s completely exhausted from her trip, as we both can relate, so I’m letting her nap. Let’s get the chores done and then I’ll begin preparations for dinner.”
“Most of the chores are done, Mary. I started them early in anticipation of the fact that Magdalena would arrive today.” He paused, “I can finish them, why don’t you go inside and rest?” Mary was nothing if not determined and independent. After Mary’s husband’s death, Jim had come to Bareglen Creek to help her with the small farm she and Mike had started, and he’d yet to leave. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, but mostly she was grateful. There was no way she could manage it alone.
“It’s my farm, Jim. You don’t have to do the chores for me; in fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
He sighed. There was no point in continuing the argument they tended to repeat on at least a weekly—if not daily basis. “What else am I going to do?” He grinned mischievously. “We both know that if I make dinner, we’ll all go to bed starving,” he chuckled as Mary hit his arm, “and Doc Holloway said light chores will help me get stronger. You don’t want me to disobey the doctor do you?”
Mary’s eyes narrowed, and she knew her brother was manipulating the facts to get her to go back to the house and rest. Yes, Doc Holloway had told him that light chores would be good for him once he had recovered from a gunshot wound that had nearly killed him, and yes, she appreciated the help, but it didn’t change the fact that this was her farm and her responsibility.
“No, obviously I don’t want you to disobey Doc Holloway—he saved your life—“ she fought to keep the tears that jumped into her eyes at bay, “yet I believe what he said was that they wouldn’t hurt you.” She raised her eyebrow in challenge.
Jim laughed. “It's good for me, sis. I feel myself getting stronger, and at the sake of sounding like a parrot, this farm is too much for one—“ he paused, “person.”
“You were going to say it is too much for a woman, weren’t you?” Her eyes narrowed at him.
“Yes, I was,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re capable, but you know as well as I do that Doc has also told you not to overdo it.”
“He,” she emphasized by rolling her eyes, “tends to be overprotective.” Her eyes moved to the nearby corral where Colossal, the Texas longhorn was grazing, a faraway look in her eyes, but then turned back to Jim and sighed.
“All right. I’ll let you finish the remaining chores and I’ll get dinner preparations started, but don’t think this means that you can do this every day, Jim Hawarden.”
“No, Ma’am,” he grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
SIX
“Lee!” Lance Holloway greeted his long-time friend and former medical school classmate.
A wide grin split Lee Jamison’s face. He walked to the porter, picked up his bag, and strolled toward his friend. They shook hands and together left the station.
Lance’s office and home were less than five-hundred yards from the train station, and since Lee traveled light, there was no need to offer to help with the single bag he held in his hands.
“How’s Mary?” Lee asked.
Lance turned to his friend, his eyes assessing. “She’s good. She looks tired, but that’s par for the course with that farm of hers.” Lance paused. “She seems lighter, maybe happier since she’s returned from Claire and Sully’s wedding. Maybe that has to do with the fact that her sister will be a frequent visitor to Bareglen Creek, or maybe it has to do with the fact that her independent sister has finally found a man who can complete her…” Lance’s words trailed into silence then he added, “She knows you’re here.”
“She does? How?”
“Magdalena Allen arrived today, too. I offered to help with her baggage and Mary asked why I was at the train station.”
Lee whistled.
Lance gave him a sideways glance. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Lance—the sparks that flew between you and Magdalena at Sully and Claire’s wedding were obvious to everyone—except you and Magdalena.”
“Pot calling the kettle black?” Lance asked.
Lee scowled. “I—the situation with Mary is complicated.”
Lance chucked. “Okay, fair enough. So you’re aware of the dance that takes place between the two of you.”
“She’s still grieving her husband,” Lee observed.
“She was, Lee.” Lance paused as they reached the front porch of his house and office. Lee looked at him curiously. “Don’t get me wrong, I know Mary misses her husband and I know she loved him, but I think what’s causing her angst at this point is her feelings for you, and her guilt over that.”
Lee’s brow furrowed. “I have to admit I’ve thought of nothing but Mary since Sully and Claire’s wedding. She was so beautiful..."
“Is that why you’re here? You have two weeks off before beginning a new intensive at the university for a potentially history-making course, and you decide to spend it here in Bareglen? I know it’s not because you missed me.”
Lee chuckled. “There are a handful of people on this earth that I enjoy spending time with Lance, and you’re one of them,” he confirmed, then paused. “What about you? How long will Magdalena be here, and how do you feel about her being here?”
Lance huffed. “She’ll be helping at the orphanage for three months. Teaching,” he clarified, and then added, “she’s an enigma.” His voice trailed.
“She’s been hurt.”
“Why do you say that?” Lance’s eyes locked onto Lee’s.
“She has all the telltale signs. She’s defensive, closed… “
“She intrigues you,” Lance cocked his head at his friend.
“She’s a puzzle.” Lee corrected. “The more I explore the intricacies of human behavior and the human mind, the more intrigued I become with creating a benchmark—or consistent methodology for diagnosing and accurately defining underlying behavior patterns.”
“She intrigues you,” Lance stated again.
Lee laughed. “She does.” He paused, waiting for Lance to open the door to his house before continuing. “Magdalena has been hurt, Lance. I’m not sure by what, or who, but she’s hiding something behind her independence and refusal to let anyone get close to her. It’s going to take some time to get beyond that—to gain her trust.”
“I never thought I’d admit this, Lee, but I think you could be right. I’ll be patient. As patient as I need to be because there’s something about that woman that makes me feel like—like she’s meant for me.”
SEVEN
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Mary smiled as Magdalena entered the kitchen.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep, Mary. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Magdalena. We’ve all made that trip from Philadelphia to Bareglen Creek, and it’s exhausting even under the best of circumstances. I’m glad you could get some rest—you looked like you needed it.”
“Yes,” Magdalena chuckled, “I’m starting to feel human again. Where’s Jim?”
“Just finishing a few chores, and then he’ll be in for dinner.”
“It’s good you have him here to help.”
Mary sighed and looked at her hands. “Yes, it is good and I appreciate him, but he can’t put his life on hold simply because I lost Mike.”
“Mary,” Magdalena moved closer to Mary and took her hands in hers, “Jim loves being here. I overheard him at
Claire and Sully’s wedding telling your parents that Bareglen Creek is beginning to feel like home to him.”
"Wow, I’ll bet that went over big.”
Magdalena chucked and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well, your mother wasn’t happy to hear it, but your father seems to think Jim can manage business interests for him here.”
“How do you know all this?” Mary asked incredulously. “Why hasn’t Jim said anything about this to me?”
“Well, let’s see. I’m Claire—your sister’s—best friend, and it seems she overheard your father and Sully talking the other day. I think your father realizes that Philadelphia may not be the right location for all of his children, long-term, despite the fact that your mother will probably never give up that hope.”
Mary smiled. “My mother is nothing if not tenacious, but I know she loves us.”
“She does,” Magdalena agreed.
“Who loves who?” Jim asked as he walked through the front door. “Magdalena!”
Magdalena rushed to Jim’s side to give him a hug. He picked her up and whirled her around, only setting her on the floor when she squealed.
“Welcome to Bareglen Creek, it’s good to have you here.”
“It’s great to finally be here, Jim. How have you been? You’re recovering?”
“Nope. I’m fully recovered with an official sign off from Doc Holloway,” he confirmed with pride.
Mary chuckled at the grimace on Magdalena’s face at the mention of the handsome Doctor Lance Holloway, but knew better than to comment. “Jim, why don’t you get cleaned up, and then we’ll have dinner.”
“Thank God, I’m starving.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You’re abused, you are.” She shook her head.
“What can I do?” Magdalena asked.
“Dinner is almost ready. If you want to set that table that would be great.”
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