Eliza stood. “But I haven’t the time for shopping.” She strode toward the door. Perhaps Uncle Henry had finished writing his letters. If not, she would find something to keep her busy in his study until Cecilia gave up this idea of going shopping. “There is so much here that needs my attention. I—”
“Nonsense. Go and put your corset on. Make yourself presentable. We must leave as soon as possible.”
Eliza held the door for her aunt to enter the store.
Cecilia made a beeline for the new bolts of fabric at the back. She pulled a rich blue silk from the shelf. “Oh, but this is lovely.”
Eliza’s lips parted. It had exquisite white flowers running its length in wide stripes. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch the fabric. Was it as smooth as it appeared?
“Well?” Cecilia lifted the bolt. “I know you have an opinion. You always do.”
Eliza shrugged. “I still think my pink dress will do.”
One delicate brow lifted on her aunt’s face. She set the blue silk on the table beside her and turned her back to Eliza before pulling two more bolts from the shelf.
Eliza ran her fingers over the silky blue fabric. Heavenly.
After some vocal debate with herself, Cecilia settled on the rich blue silk for Eliza and a rosy pink silk for herself. She was giving the final orders to Henry’s clerk when the door opened, revealing Mrs. Swenson.
Eliza sidled toward a shelf large enough to hide behind.
Mrs. Swenson’s gaze met hers.
Too late.
The large woman bustled across the store.
“Mrs. Davidson, Miss Brooks. What a delightful surprise.” She beamed at them as Eliza’s muscles twitched to flee. How was she going to keep the woman from mentioning Eliza’s departure? Cecilia was sure to ask about Mrs. Swenson’s trip, and of course the kind woman would express her pleasure in having Eliza’s company for part of the journey. Oh, this was a disaster!
“Surprise, indeed.” Cecilia’s eyes twinkled. “You know exactly why we’re here. But why are you?”
Mrs. Swenson chortled. “I never could resist new fabrics, ball or no. And have you picked yours out already?” She eyed the bolts of pink and blue that the clerk was setting at the back for delivery to the Davidsons’ home.
“We have.” Cecilia clasped her hands together. “But tell me, how are your plans…”
The door opened again.
Three members of the Ladies’ Protection and Relief Society hurried toward them. Mrs. Prichard was the shortest among them. The small corner of the store holding the fabric display began to fill as the women, having dispensed with their greetings, focused on the task at hand.
Mrs. Prichard maneuvered herself between Eliza and Cecilia and inspected a pale blue bolt resembling the fabric of Eliza’s previous gown. “I do hope the ladies will take particular care with their ensembles for this event. It’s so important to The Society. It would be a shame if we did not place our best foot forward. After all, what do we ladies have if not our reputation?”
Eliza peered over Mrs. Prichard’s head at Cecilia. Not a hint of irritation showed in her aunt’s serene expression. How does she do that? Eliza forced herself to sound as relaxed as her aunt appeared. “Since we have completed our purchases, shouldn’t we go and give these ladies more room to do their shopping?”
Cecilia clasped her hands together. “It might be best.”
Pale morning sunlight spilled across the writing desk as Eliza’s pen moved across the page.
Dear Uncle Henry,
By the time you read this letter, I will be aboard the Virginia on my way to San Diego. Please do not worry...
No, she couldn’t write that. Of course he would worry.
Balling up her third sheet of paper, Eliza sighed and leaned back in her chair. What should she write? Perhaps she should start with her gratitude for his kindness and generosity.
She leaned forward.
Dear Uncle Henry,
I cannot begin to thank you for the kindness and generosity you have shown me these past three years. I know that I have not always been the easiest person to live with. I am sorry for any embarrassment or…
What good was it to apologize for hurting him when her plans would feel like a betrayal?
She crumpled the paper and tossed it with the others in the bin.
What choice had he left her? He would not consent to her travel, and she could not remain one day longer without knowing what had become of Pa.
She pulled another sheet from the stack and began again.
Several drafts later, the clock chimed the advancing hour. Her hand jerked, leaving an ugly smear on the page. She blew it dry, wrote one final sentence, and signed her name. It would have to do.
The Virginia would depart in little more than two hours. If she didn’t pack now, she would not make it to the wharf in time.
She dragged the carpetbag from its hiding place beneath her bed and pried it open. In its confines she placed the practical garments she’d had made to suit her work around the house. The fancy dresses and impractical shoes Cecilia had forced on her remained in the closet. After adding a sturdy pair of boots, two of her favorite books, and a few sundries, her bag was bulging. Last, she retrieved Mama’s cherished Bible and Pa’s letters. She hesitated, clutching the leather Bible in one hand, the crumpled letters in the other. I’ll find him, Ma. After adding them to the bag, she pressed down on the contents and squeezed the closure shut. There. All packed. She checked the clock. Thirty minutes had passed.
She lifted her bag and peeked into the hallway. Empty. She crept down the stairs, peering around each corner as she went.
Cecilia’s voice floated into the hallway from the drawing room, where she was giving Amelia instructions.
The kitchen was vacant. Eliza dashed to the corner and withdrew the last three bottles of wine from their crate. The packing straw was removed next. She crammed her bag into the now-empty container. The sides of the bag scraped against the rough wood, snagging the fabric. She cringed. At least there was room on top. Grabbing handfuls of the straw, Eliza filled the box until her bag was concealed. She moved the wine to a shelf in the corner. Please, let no one notice them.
She paced back to the crate.
Amelia trundled into the kitchen.
“Oh!” Eliza jumped.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doin’ in here?” Amelia glanced at the sink where a handful of dishes awaited cleansing. “I’ve just come to do those.” She dashed toward the sink. “The misses had extra instructions for me this mornin’.”
“Of course.”
Amelia began scrubbing a pot, her back to Eliza.
Eliza wiped bits of straw from her damp palms. “Do you know where Frank is?”
“Out back feedin’ the horses.”
“Thank you.”
Eliza hurried out.
Frank was in the yard, brushing a horse. “Good morning, Frank.”
“Mornin’, Miz Brooks.” He paused his strokes. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to take me to the wharf.”
He wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. “Just you?”
“Yes.” Eliza fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. She hated lying to Frank. “Mr. Davidson planned to give the last of our wine to Captain Swenson and his wife as a farewell gift. But he’s gone off without it this morning, and the Virginia departs in an hour.” She held her breath.
“I’d be happy to deliver the wine for you, Miz Brooks. No need to rush yourself.”
Eliza’s hands tightened on the folds of her skirt. “Mrs. Swenson has been ill these last few days and I haven’t had a chance to say farewell. When I saw the wine, I realized this was my chance to do so.”
“That don’t give us much time.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She wrung her hands. “We’d better hurry.”
Frank set down the brush and headed for the carriage house.
Eliza returned inside for
the crate.
Amelia still scrubbed at the sink. “Did you find him, miss?”
“Yes, thank you.”
As Eliza lifted the crate and turned toward the door, Cecilia entered the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
Taking a deep breath, Eliza stepped to the side. Please don’t let her notice the bottles. “Uncle Henry’s forgotten this.” She shifted the crate. “He meant to give it to Captain Swenson this morning. I’ve asked Frank to take me to the wharf before the ship sails so that I might deliver it for him.”
“Well, I don’t see why Frank cannot deliver it himself, but so long as you are going to town, I’ll come along. We’ll stop in and visit Mrs. Woods after we drop off the gift.” She turned toward the hall. “I’ll only be a moment.”
“But the ship…” Her protest fell on her aunt’s departing back.
Eliza scooted to the end of the bench as the carriage pulled to a stop by the wharf.
Cecilia laid a staying hand on hers.
“What’s truly in the crate, Eliza?”
Eliza froze. Squawking seagulls and calling sailors filled the moment it took for her to respond. “What do you mean?”
“I saw the wine on the shelf in the kitchen. You aren’t as clever as you think.” Cecilia watched Frank lift the crate from the wagon. “What are you hiding?”
Eliza’s mind whirled with a myriad of excuses. None would do. What did it matter? She’d be gone in a matter of minutes. Why not tell the truth?
“I’m leaving.”
Cecilia drew back. “Leaving?”
“For San Diego. I’m going to find Pa.”
Cecilia’s nostrils flared. “But you can’t go! Not without an escort. Not without your Uncle. Think of the scandal!”
“I have arranged for Mrs. Swenson to be my escort and the captain has assured me I will be safe aboard his ship.”
“Mrs. Swenson? But she never said.” Blond tendrils blew into Cecilia’s face, and she twisted her head, dislodging them. “She is going to Massachusetts, not to San Diego.”
“True. I will disembark in San Diego and she will continue on.”
“But who will be with you in San Diego?”
“I’ll have Pa, of course.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t even know that your father is still in San Diego.”
“He’s there. And I will find him.”
“No. This is not acceptable. Don’t you understand what this sort of scandal will do to your Uncle’s reputation? If you go now…” Cecilia studied Eliza. “Are you determined to do this? To travel on your own?”
Eliza gave a firm nod.
Cecilia pressed her lips together. “Then you must never come back.”
“Wh-What?”
“If you do this, you must promise never to return. If you do, you will cause even greater damage to your uncle’s reputation than with your departure. Is that any way to show your gratitude for everything we’ve done for you?”
Eliza had no burning desire to return to this pretentious, mud-splattered town, yet she would miss her uncle. And it would pain him never to see her again. Yet there was truth in what her aunt said. Eliza’s actions would cause scandal—something her uncle’s business could ill afford right now.
“Promise me.” Cecilia seized Eliza’s wrist. “The moment your foot hits that wharf, there is no turning back. I will have your word.”
Eliza swallowed. She could turn back—wait for her uncle to escort her. No. She’d already waited too long. If Pa was sick or injured... She had to find him. Now. “I promise, I will never return. You have my word.” Please let Uncle Henry forgive me.
Cecilia released her. “Good. Thank you.”
Frank assisted Eliza from the wagon. His lips pursed and he shook his head. Grimacing, she pulled the letter from her pocket. “I wrote a letter—” She held it out to Frank, but Cecilia snatched it from her hand.
“I’ll take that.”
“It’s for Uncle Henry.”
Cecilia’s lips curled upward. “Of course, and I’ll see that he gets it. Run along now. You don’t want to miss your ship.” Cecilia flicked her fingers in a shooing motion.
Eliza’s shoulders drooped as she stepped from the wagon. Frank bent over the crate at his feet and brushed the straw aside. He handed the carpetbag to her.
“Thank you, Frank.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before pulling away.
Tears glistened in the man’s eyes. “You take care, Miss Brooks.” He climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Safe journey!” Cecilia waved.
Carpetbag in hand, Eliza straightened her shoulders and started down the wharf. Behind her, Frank clicked to the horses. She turned back. As the wagon pulled away, her letter fluttered from Cecilia’s hand. Eliza rushed to capture the missive. A breeze carried it beyond the planks of the wharf and dropped it onto the dark waves below.
The paper floated for a few seconds, then sank from sight.
Chapter 6
Daniel stood on the deck of the Virginia and looked over the city where he’d spent the past four and a half years. The most miserable, exhilarating, tedious, and rewarding years of his life. In all likelihood, he would never see the place again. Would he miss it? His gaze skimmed past the tangle of masts to the lines of streets and buildings beyond. Not likely. He didn’t harbor the bitter animosity of those who’d lost their fortunes and good health in this bustling, mud-clogged boomtown. And yet, neither did the place evoke a sense of home or belonging for him the way it did for those like the Davidsons, who’d set down firm roots and spent their days working to improve their burgeoning city in every way possible.
Daniel shook his head. Home must still be the place he’d left in Massachusetts, where his family and his fiancée would welcome him with open arms.
He pulled his mother’s latest letter from his pocket and reread it. His father’s health had improved. His elder brother, Benjamin, had taken on more responsibilities in the family carpentry business. Mother was excited about Benjamin’s plans to build his own home on the family land but declined to go into detail. She wrote that Benjamin wished to share them in his own letter.
Rubbing his jaw, he reread the words. He’d never received a letter from his brother.
He continued down the page. As with her last two letters, his mother did not mention Alice except to write that she was still away on the trip she’d taken with Richard to visit a mutual acquaintance. Richard was the youngest and least settled of Alice’s three elder brothers. Daniel didn’t think they were close, yet Richard and Alice had been gone for months. Might this trip explain Alice’s silence? No. Alice could have mailed a letter from anywhere she might have gone. Unlike in California, every town on the east coast enjoyed mail service.
He skimmed his mother’s letter again. No matter how many times he read it, he found no answer to the questions that plagued him. Pride had kept him from mentioning to his mother the cessation of Alice’s communication. Yet, if something had changed—if Alice had given any indication of a change in her affection for him—his mother would have told him. Wouldn’t she?
“Look where you’re goin’!” A man was being jostled in the frenzied activity on the wharves.
Along the wide platform, passengers of every class scurried to and fro. Hired draymen weaved their horses and carts around bags of mail and piles of luggage in a hurry to unload their cargo, collect their payment, and return to carry another load. Hoping for a fare, cabmen swooped in on passengers disembarking the ferries. Stores built on pilings along either side were doing a brisk business. A stench of rotting fish mixed with salty sea air drifted to him from the boats off Fisherman’s Wharf.
The crew of the Virginia loaded crate after crate of cargo into the ship’s hold. Despite their brisk pace, there was still a mountain of items to be loaded. How could they be ready to leave port at noon, as scheduled?
As the crew continued their strenuous work, a swish of blue
skirts near the gangway caught Daniel’s attention. A lady in a blue bonnet attempted to board, but a swaggering youth stepped into her path, blocking her way. The lout! Daniel stepped toward the gangway opening, then stopped. Captain Swenson himself was hurrying toward the woman. With a sweep of his arm, the captain brushed the offender aside. He relieved the lady of her large carpetbag and waved for her to precede him.
With one foot on the narrow board leading to the top deck, the lady paused to stare up at the ship. Daniel’s breath caught.
Miss Brooks!
Daniel searched the wharf for the Davidsons but found no sign of them—no sign of anyone who gave the appearance of accompanying Eliza. He frowned. A woman traveling alone was vulnerable to all kinds of evil. What were the Davidsons thinking to permit Eliza to take such a risk?
As Eliza stepped aboard the Virginia, Daniel walked toward her. He must convince her to delay her journey until such time as the Davidsons or some other appropriate chaperone might accompany her.
Eliza stepped aboard the Virginia and turned to face the captain who boarded after her. “Thank you for your assistance, Captain Swenson. That man was discourteously persistent.”
“My pleasure, Miss Brooks. I’m sorry you had to deal with such a fellow at all.”
She scanned the top deck for the captain’s wife. Instead of the kind woman, she spotted Mr. Clarke striding in their direction, glowering. Eliza pretended not to see him and continued her search of the deck. Mrs. Swenson was not in sight.
She turned back to the captain. “Is Mrs. Swenson below?”
“I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs. Swenson has been delayed, but if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your cabin where you may wait, safe from any further unwanted attentions.” He offered her his arm, and she accepted it. She restrained herself from peeking at Mr. Clarke as the captain led her to a steep set of stairs that led below deck.
Eliza followed Captain Swenson through an elegant dining saloon to a narrow corridor.
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 6