by Holly Bush
Jennifer has written me that you have married a man from Texas that you have never met! I could not be more shocked if you told me you had shredded Mother’s Belgian tablecloths. But more than my surprise, I am so glad for you and praying that this man will be kind. I am hoping that when you are away from Mother and from Boston, you will find a reason for happiness, even if this person that you have married is not everything or even anything like what you imagined.
For years I’d been afraid of you and Mother and of what everyone thought of me. And while I was no longer afraid, I harbored resentment towards you and Mother after bringing Jillian here with me. Jake convinced me that the only person I was hurting was myself by making myself miserable. I implore you, whether you find yourself angry, or afraid, or sad, or grieving, give into happiness. Give yourself a chance to be happy. Our money, our situation, our homes – none of it will matter in the end. I am certain that the only thing that will matter is if we have loved and found joy in that love.
I have never liked you particularly, Jolene, and I doubt if you liked me much either. I found you manipulative and cruel, and I’m sure you found me embarrassing and weak. But that does not mean I don’t care about you. Our history brought pain to both of us, I believe. You are my sister. You are also a woman grown and independent. Make your own decisions as to how your time on this earth will be spent.
Julia
Post Script ~ Jennifer has relayed that Mother was particularly angry that you have done this. God forgive me, but that gave me some sweet satisfaction.
Jolene let herself smile at her sister’s remarks. How very much the letter sounded like Julia. The door to her private car opened, and she looked up.
“I believe you’ll want to be changing Mrs. Crenshaw,” Alice said when she came through the door. “The Dallas station is only a few hours away.”
“Yes,” Jolene said. “Lay out my blue traveling suit, Alice. I am leaving off the mourning clothes. Convention be damned. I suppose you’d best begin calling me Mrs. Shelby.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
Max shaved and dressed with care. His boots had been polished and his Stetson brushed clean. He left his collarless shirt open at the neck and carried his suede jacket. It was still a fairly cool March morning and by afternoon it’d be plenty warm, but he planned on wearing his jacket and adding a little formality to this meeting. Truth be told, he was near sick on the stomach. He couldn’t eat the breakfast that had been placed in front of him and just sipped on some coffee. This marriage had always seemed far away, both in time and distance. Now it was here, and if he was honest with himself, he’d admit he was leery, wary, oh hell, he was terrified of what it would be like to meet his wife. His wife!
He wasn’t looking forward to the two-hour ride from town either, but he was guessing his new bride would be expecting something fancier than a saddle to ride home on. Pete had waxed the carriage till it shone, and by the time he’d hitched the horses and said it was ready for Max to take, there was a crowd gathered outside the barns. It seems everyone wanted to see him off. Melinda begged to come along until Maria pulled her away with promises of treats from the kitchen.
Max had gotten to town early, did some shopping for Melinda and stopped by a few of the ladies’ stores before heading to the station. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, but he thought a few gifts for his bride and her maid might be in order. He was sitting in the shade of the train station porch reading a Beadle’s Dime Novel when the depot manager came out and walked to the tracks. He stared east and turned to Max.
“Train’s coming.”
Max stood, pulled on his jacket and watched the train approach from far in the distance. This was the beginning of the rest of his life.
* * *
Alice stood near the window, peering out at the city as the train slowed in its approach. Jolene sat at the edge of the settee, back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She was alternately excited and terrified as her journey wound down to its last miles. Her luggage and trunks were stacked near the door to her train car.
“Are you looking forward to this change, Alice?” Jolene said suddenly.
Her maid turned in some surprise, surely because she had never asked Alice her feelings or opinion, except on one notable occasion.
“I am, Mrs. Shelby. Thank you for asking,” she said.
Jolene drew a breath through her nose and closed her eyes as the train lurched to a stop. She was here. She waited patiently while Alice directed porters with the handling of their luggage. Fifteen minutes later, Alice came back into her traveling car.
“Mrs. Shelby? Everything is unloaded. Are you ready to depart?” she said. “May I get your parasol for you, ma’am. It is quite stifling outside.”
Jolene stood, looped the satin ribbon of the parasol that Alice had given her over her hand with her reticule and stepped on to the small metal platform between the cars. The conductor reached a hand up to her to guide her down the three steps.
* * *
Max walked slowly to where a woman, dressed in black, was directing several porters stacking multiple trunks and luggage. It was a detail he’d not thought of. He turned to the depot manager who was watching the porters himself.
“Can you get word to the Shaw Brothers to get over here with one of their wagons?”
The manager nodded and hurried to his depot, and Max turned back. Apparently finished, four porters stood behind rows and stacks of luggage and trunks, staring up at the train. The woman dressed in black was waiting, and the conductor stood to the side of the metal steps between the cars. He lifted his hand up and at the top of those three steps appeared a tall, slender woman. She was dressed from head to toe in the palest blue, starting with the tilted, wide-brimmed hat, to her jacket trimmed in black roping to her bustled skirts. She extended a foot shod in a pale blue satin slipper and accepted the conductor’s outstretched hand.
At first glance, she was stunning and sophisticated and sure of herself. And he was certain she was his wife. He walked to her and held out his hand.
“Mrs. Jolene Shelby?”
She turned her head slowly. “Mr. Maximillian Shelby?”
He bowed his head and touched his hat. “At your service, ma’am.”
She put a gloved hand in his, and he was immediately aware of her. He could smell a musky rose scent and felt the pressure of her hand in his as she came down the last two steps.
“Welcome to Dallas. There will be a wagon coming for your trunks in just a moment. Can I get you and your maid out of the sun and under the depot porch until he arrives?”
She turned her head to where he was gesturing. “Thank you,” she said and hooked her arm through his. Max led her to the seat he’d vacated. She lowered herself to the edge of the plank bench and folded her hands in her lap.
“How was your trip?”
“Exhausting, but my train car was comfortable. We laid over for a few days at the Memphis Hotel for a much needed break,” she said.
“I’m glad that you have arrived safely.”
Jonas Shaw pulled a wagon up to the platform and hopped out. “Hey, Max. Heard you needed some hauling.”
The men shook hands and Max turned. “This is my wife, Jonas, just arrived from Boston.”
Jonas pulled his hat from his head and nodded, wide-eyed. “Pleasure, ma’am.”
“She and her maid have some trunks and what-not that need to come out to the Hacienda. Can you get it all there today?”
Jonas turned and looked at the stack still sitting on the platform. “I can. I’ll have to get a bigger wagon and some helpers. I think we can have it all there by evening.”
“I’ll have the station manager watch it till you get back. Thank you, Jonas.” Max turned to his wife. “Are you ready to head to the Hacienda?”
“Would it be possible for me to have a glass of water?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Max said. “I don’t imagine you’re accustomed to this heat. Let me take y
ou across the street to the Windsor Hotel. I believe the lobby there is cooled.”
Max found the depot manager, handed him a coin, and told him he was to stand beside the luggage and trunks until Jonas Shaw returned. Max held his hand out to his wife. She stood and took his arm and nodded to the stoic maid standing behind him. He guided her across the street to the Windsor Hotel and inside. The grand hotel’s lobby was blessedly cool.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked.
“No. I have not. I wasn’t fond of the diner car’s offering.”
“We could have something in the dining room here. The food is always very good,” he said.
“Something light would suit me. Yes. Thank you,” she said. “Let me make arrangements for Alice.”
“She can eat with us,” Max said.
“I doubt that would be any more comfortable for Alice than it would for you or me.” She walked to her maid, spoke to her, and turned back to Max.
Every head in the room turned as they wound their way through the dining rooms. He caught a glimpse of her profile in the gilded mirrors on the walls. Had he not known better, he would have thought she was royalty. She removed her gloves, ordered, and faced him.
“Tell me about Dallas, Mr. Shelby. It is larger than I imagined,” she said.
“No need to be so formal, do you think?” he asked with a smile. “I’m just Max.”
“I suppose that it would be odd in our daily dealings with each other to continue with mister and mistress. You may call me Jolene. Tell me about Dallas, Maximillian?”
Max smiled and gave her a brief history of his adopted city. He looked at his watch and then at Jolene. “Are you feeling better? I think we’d best be going. We want to be home by dark.”
“Yes. I am ready,” she said.
The ride home in the carriage was done in near quiet. He made some attempts to converse, but Jolene had little reply to make, and the maid in the back seat said nothing unless he asked her a direct question. He pulled into the Hacienda courtyard with its shady trees and brick driveway. Nearly everyone in his employ was standing outside the main entrance. They were all waiting to meet his bride.
Pete took the reins, and Max stepped down and came around to help Jolene from the carriage. She looked at the Hacienda from side to side and up to the second floor balconies with their red adobe trim and planters filled with spring flowers and cactus. She slowly looked from one end of the staff to the other. “Who is the head housekeeper, Maximillian?” she asked.
“I would say that is Maria, but I’ve never called her the housekeeper,” he said. “But she runs things and all the inside staff.”
“I’d like to meet her now, if I may,” she said.
“Yes,” Max hurried to say, “Yes, of course. And I want you to meet the ranch manager, Zebidiah Moran.” Max motioned. “Zeb, Maria.”
Maria hurried forward. “Welcome, Mrs. Shelby! We are so glad you are here!”
“Thank you, Maria. Would please see that a hot bath is made ready for myself and my maid?” Jolene turned. “Mr. Moran. I’m sure we’ll have time to become more acquainted in the next few days.” She looked at Max. “I’d like to be shown my rooms now, if you please.”
Jolene took his arm, and he took her inside. Melinda was waiting for them in the two story, open air entrance way. Her hair was braided in a neat plait, and she had on one of her few dresses, with stockings and high top shoes.
“Hello,” Melinda said. “You must be my new mother.”
Jolene slowly turned and looked at Max. “I was to understand that your daughter was in need of help with her come-out. That she was of that age.”
Max shook his head. “No. Melinda is twelve. Melinda, this is . . . what do you think she should call you?”
“Melinda,” Jolene said. “It is a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Jolene. We will make some time to get to know each other, but I have been traveling for quite some time and am looking forward to a bath and a rest.”
Jolene swept by Melinda and the grand table at the center of the foyer with a swish of her skirts. She turned back. “Maximillian? My rooms?”
Chapter Six
“Good morning, Mrs. Shelby.”
Jolene rolled over and stared at the draped white fabric lying across the canopy frame above her. For a moment, she hadn’t the foggiest notion of where she was at. And then it all came back. She was at the Hacienda, her new home. She looked at Alice standing beside her bed.
“I don’t imagine there is any tea, is there?”
“I’m not sure, but I am on my way to the kitchens, ma’am. I wanted to let you know where I was going.”
Jolene sat up and stretched. “I suppose it will take us sometime to acquaint ourselves with our new surroundings. Where are your rooms, Alice? Were they comfortable?”
“Through that door,” Alice said and pointed, “is a dressing area. The other door in that room leads to my rooms. They are extremely comfortable, and I thank you so much for the sitting area attached to my sleeping room. And the bath last night as well.”
“If you felt anything like I did when we finally arrived, which I think you must have, it was welcome,” Jolene said as she stood and slipped her arms through the sleeves of her lightest weight dressing gown that Alice held. “Have my trunks arrived?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will begin putting your things in order once you are ready for the day. I found the things you’ll be needing immediately and have laid them out.”
Jolene slipped her foot into satin slippers. “Didn’t you have a sitting area at Landonmore?” she asked as her maid opened the door to leave.
Alice shook her head. “I shared a sleeping room with Millie, one of the downstairs maids. I should be back shortly, ma’am.”
Jolene wandered her new boudoir. The fixtures and furniture were expensive and well-made, and if not her first preference in style, she would admit that the pale charcoal colors and pinks made a pleasing room. The floor was tiled in wide, intricately carved stone covered in thick white carpets. She opened floor length wooden shutters and found a small private porch. The view from there was admittedly gorgeous as she gazed out onto manicured patios outlined by a brilliant blue sky and low hills. It was a stunning dichotomy from Landonmore.
Jolene stretched out on a silk-covered chaise near her balcony with the breeze blowing through the open shutters. So, Melinda Shelby, her step-daughter, she thought with a shudder, was not soon to be married and out of her life. She was a child. This was a complication she hadn’t expected and which her investigation did not reveal nor had she asked that particular. She fully understood that part of her agreement with Maximillian was that she usher the daughter into society and plan events as they were required. She had no issues with that and was looking forward to organizing such things as long as the girl understood the value of her tutelage. But a very young girl was not in her plans nor did she want her to be. Certainly no one expected her to be a mother?
“Come in,” Jolene said to the knock on the door, hoping Alice had returned with tea.
“Hello,” Melinda Shelby said as she poked her head in the room. “May I come in?”
“I’m not dressed, haven’t had my tea yet,” Jolene said. “I will see you later in the day.”
“You have on the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen,” Melinda replied. “Is it soft?”
Jolene looked down at herself. Her dressing gown, a pale yellow satin, had hundreds of tiny pink rosettes sewn onto the collar and cuffs. It was not her most expensive or luxurious, but it was a favorite. “It is soft,” she said. “It is a special fabric . . .” Jolene looked up when she realized the girl had made her way across the room.
Melinda drew her hand the length of Jolene’s forearm over and again. She stroked the fabric and touched the flowers at the end of the sleeve. “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she whispered and looked at Jolene out from under her brows.
Jolene stared at the girl. No one, no one dared touch he
r. It was not done. Not by Turner the last years or ever outside of the marriage bed, and certainly not by an employee. Jennifer had always tried. Leaned forward to kiss her or hold her hand, but she never fully did as Jolene’s look inevitably scared her away. A touch from her mother, always in view of others, was mostly a prelude to a set-down.
But this girl, child, was not backing away. She was leaning against the chaise and Jolene’s leg where it was draped over the side. She was warm, and smelled of outside, and some scent she could not identify. “What is that fruity smell?” Jolene asked.
Melinda levered herself up on the chaise on both knees and put her head directly under Jolene’s nose. “It is my hair. Maria washes it with something that has fruit in it.”
Jolene sniffed. She had no choice really. “Very nice.”
Melinda turned and sat down on the chaise beside Jolene. “Do you want to see my horse? Her name is Daisy.”
The door opened and Alice came through carrying a tray. “Here we are, ma’am. Oh,” she said as she looked up and saw Melinda sitting beside Jolene.
The girl jumped up and moved a vase from a table near the shutters. “Sit it here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alice said and hurried to the table with her tray.
“I’m not ma’am,” Melinda said with a huge smile. “I’m Melinda. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Alice curtsied awkwardly and turned to the tea tray. “I’m sorry it took me so long, ma’am. They insisted I eat something before coming up. They wanted to send this tray with someone else, but I told them that you would not care for that. I am sorry for the delay.”
“That is fine, Alice,” Jolene said and accepted a cup of tea.
“Did Maria make you the chilaquiles?” Melinda asked Alice.
Alice nodded with a quick glance to Jolene.
“That is my favorite!” Melinda said.
“Well, Alice?” Jolene asked. “Was it good? What of the kitchens here?”