Wild Turkey: A Historical Virginia Romance (The Whiskey Series Book 3)

by Beth Bennett

  The train departing for Charlottesville arrived in the station the next morning. Aboard was one, Mrs. Harriet Holland. She was traveling back to her home near the Daniels family from her niece’s in Atlanta. Jackson recognized her formidable walk immediately. He hurried to take her bags as Olivia dragged behind.

  “How do you do, Mrs. Holland?”

  “Jackson, how do you do?”

  “Mrs. Holland, this is Olivia Overton. She shall be your traveling companion for the rest of your trip. I am very thankful for your help in this matter.”

  Olivia peeked around Jackson’s shoulder. Harriet Holland cleared her throat. “Step around here, girl, and let me get a good look at you.” Mrs. Holland was dressed in black from head to foot. She even carried a black parasol. Her bright, sharp, brown eyes peered out of a face lined with deep wrinkles. The gray hair atop her head was pulled into a bun and sat below a jaunty black hat, finished with lace and black feathers. Of medium build, she moved quickly for one who looked so old.

  “Stand up straight, young lady, and receive the respect due a farm girl from the south. I myself was born on a farm below the Mason Dixson. Sturdy and strong, you have a double advantage. You’re from the loveliest valley God ever created. Never met an addled pated farm girl from the south yet. Met plenty of that ilk from the city, however.” Olivia’s eyes grew wide at Harriet Holland’s pronouncements. “Just look at her Jackson, a beauty to boot. Thank God in heaven she has been delivered into my hands. Your mother told me what has brought her to the present circumstances. After such behavior from you, I don’t doubt the child is near exhaustion.”

  Olivia put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Harriet Holland was nothing like she’d expected. She already had an ally. The porter brought Mrs. Holland’s luggage and Jackson was loaded down. He followed behind the two ladies as Mrs. Holland directed Olivia to take her arm. She used a cane with the other hand. “Now the Daniels are a fine family, Olivia, but that Jackson, he always was too stubborn for his own good…” Mrs. Holland continued to wax eloquent about Jackson’s many youthful misdeeds. Olivia looked behind and watched as he tried to keep up while loaded down with the burden of four trunks. She caught his eye and stuck her tongue out at him.

  The baggage was checked, tea was had, the ladies refreshed. Finally, the two farm girls from the south were loaded onto the Chesapeake and Ohio bound for Charlottesville. Jackson stood on the depot platform and watched as Olivia hung out the window. Mrs. Holland had given her a handkerchief and she waved it with all her might. Over the roar of the steam engine as a puff of smoke engulfed her, Jackson heard the words. "Thanks fer everthing, Yaaannnnkeeee.” The train gave a start, Olivia disappeared inside and Jackson breathed a sigh of relief.

  Chapter 9

  Olivia had never felt such joy! Mrs. Holland was the most wonderful person she had ever met. She told her everything she wanted to know. And right now what she wanted more than anything, was to know more about Jackson.

  “Has Jackson Daniels always been so uppity?”

  “My dear girl, he wrote the book on it. I do not think I have ever seen such a brash young man. It stands to reason, however, he is from a family of fine standing with strong finances. He has had many advantages. Add to that, the fact that he is as handsome as Apollo and there you have it. What else could you expect?”

  Olivia was beside herself with laughter. “He tries real hard though.”

  “He tries too hard. He is much too strict for a young man of twenty-six. His father was just like him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  So, Jackson Daniels was twenty-six. She had wondered how old he was. She had been sure he must be thirty-five. He was far too uppity for his age. Mrs. Holland was completely right about him on every count. Olivia looked at the spread laid out before them. They were sitting in the dining car at a table covered with a real linen tablecloth. Small biscuits were placed on a plate beside some strawberry jam. There was tea, coffee, and all manner of good things to choose from. Olivia took a big bite from a slice of apple laid out upon a cheese plate.

  “This is almost as good as the apples I raise.” She thoughtfully chewed as Mrs. Holland buttered a biscuit.

  “What type of apples were on your farm, Olivia?”

  “Oh we had Red Delicious and Granny Smith. I myself am partial to the Golden Delicious though. They sure are good eatin apples. Make a bad pie though. They turn to mush when you cook em.”

  “You are correct, my girl. Granny Smith makes the best pie apples, nice and firm and tart. Perfect with the right amount of sugar. I grew up on a farm in Georgia. My father raised rice and peaches. Come to think of it, I haven’t had a good peach in ages. What a shame I couldn’t have traveled home when the peaches were ripe.”

  Olivia and Mrs. Holland talked together for hours. They compared notes on how to make the best pie crust, what was the best way to prepare cornbread and the fact that you simply had to eat black-eyed peas for New Year’s or you would have bad luck the rest of the year. They retired to their assigned seats. The time passed quickly and before Olivia knew it, the train was nearing Charlottesville.

  “Come here, Olivia, I want you to see something.” Olivia moved to sit beside the window as Mrs. Holland indicated.

  The train wound around a curve bringing into view an enormous white house. The portico on the front was breath-taking. It sat in glorious display against the undulating Blue Ridge. Olivia pressed her nose against the window to get a better look.

  “Who in tarnation lives there! Why it must be the president’s house or something.”

  “Correct again, my dear. That is Monticello, the home of our third president, Thomas Jefferson.”

  Olivia simply couldn’t believe it. “Why…why…I know’d he was from Charlottesville, I’ve heard about Monticello. Why he wrote the Declaration of Independence. Never in all my life did I ever think to really see it!”

  Harriet smiled at her enthusiasm. “I am very pleased you know of it. Tis a rare treat. Perhaps you will be able to visit someday. I have been there and it is a very amazing place. You have much to look forward to. Much. Virginia has a rare beauty all its own and has birthed many an outstanding man including more than one president. But, New York has a charm all its own as well. I look forward to taking you to see some of my favorite sites. You’ll do very well there, I think.”

  Olivia and Mrs. Holland’s Chesapeake and Ohio train car pulled into the station in downtown Charlottesville. The train whistle blew and puffs of smoke billowed back from the engine. People waited along the platform to greet the train’s arrival.

  “Are we going to spend the night in a fancy hotel?” Olivia questioned.

  “Oh no, my dear. No, no. You and I shall ride in style from here on out.”

  “In style?”

  “Yes, we shall board the train to Richmond on a Pullman sleeping car. From there, our car will be connected along the lines until we find ourselves pulling into New York City tomorrow evening. You are in for quite a treat.”

  It boggled the imagination. Tomorrow evening! She was sure it would take a week to travel so far. Olivia had never heard of a Pullman car and could not even guess what a sleeping car would be like. She followed Mrs. Holland as they received their luggage. A porter helped them leave the baggage where it would be loaded onto the train headed for the state capital of Richmond.

  Charlottesville looked a lot like Staunton. It was nestled in the rolling hills of the Blue Ridge and Olivia simply couldn’t get enough of the town. There were so many things to look at. The ladies with their fancy feathered hats, Grocery and Dry Goods stores filled with mysterious merchandise. More ready made things than Olivia thought possible. She was fast realizing that people in the wide world did not live anything like her little mountain community. At the same time, she was absolutely exhausted from the trip and gave a wide yawn.

  Mrs. Holland waited until she was finished. “Good heavens, Olivia, I believe I just saw all the way down to your stomach.
Cover your mouth when you yawn. Like this.” Mrs. Holland opened her mouth in a dainty yawn and covered it with her glove tipped fingers. “That’s much more attractive don’t you think?” Olivia nodded, taking note of every word. “Now, we shall enjoy a nice dinner before boarding the train. I’m sure you’re quite tired, my dear. I know I am. Travel is exhausting. Thank goodness we’re not traversing the state on horseback. I don’t think I could bear it.”

  They enjoyed a nice dinner in the closest hotel. Olivia was glad when it was finally time to board the train. She could think of nothing better than curling up for a nice sleep. On their way toward the depot, a gang of ruffians came up behind them. They were little more than boys but Olivia was sure they were up to no good. They walked too close and began to shout out insults and cat calls. The smallest of the group reached out a hand and snatched Mrs. Holland’s reticule. Her surprised yelp alerted Olivia to the danger.

  The group took off running but the boy who had snatched the purse fell behind. Olivia hitched up her skirts and took off right behind him at a break-neck speed. Mrs. Holland began to frantically call for the police but Olivia had already tackled the miscreant. She sat upon him while he kicked, her small hands holding him firmly by the shoulders. The purse lay beside them.

  Mrs. Holland with police in tow, ran toward them. “Get him, Officer! Get the thief!”

  “Here, here, miss, we’ve got em.” One policeman tried to help Olivia off the ruffian and the other dragged the boy up by the collar. Mrs. Holland was handed her reticule.

  “Are you all right, miss?” a policeman inquired.

  Olivia’s hair was falling from her braid and a small tear was made to her sleeve. “I’m perfectly fine,” she announced. “I’ve had more fight from a catfish than that little pipsqueak.”

  “Just the same, miss, it’s dangerous for a young lady to attack a miscreant all alone.”

  “Tweren’t nothing,” she proudly proclaimed. “I ain’t one to abide no non-sense like that.”

  Mrs. Holland reached over and whacked the boy on the head with her cane. “Take him away.”

  The police dragged the boy away and Olivia inquired as to Mrs. Holland’s health. She raised her hand in assurance. After straightening her hat, she took Olivia by the hand and they walked the rest of the way arm in arm.

  “I have never been so glad to board a train in all my life. You, my dear, are amazing. Only one day into our journey and you have already proven to be a heroine of the highest order.” Olivia stood tall and straight as Mrs. Holland’s praise washed over her. When she stepped aboard the Pullman train, it was with a greatly increased sense of self-worth.

  The inside of the Pullman looked like a fairyland. It was a place fit for a queen and prepared just for her! Black horsehair seats, red upholstered chairs, rich carpets, gas chandeliers, ornate carving and fine, oiled, wood work.

  “Good lands, Mrs. Holland, this train looks like something made for the Queen of Sheba.”

  There were seats aplenty on one side of the car with beds laid out along the other. Fresh clean linen and warm soft blankets sang out an invitation for a good night’s rest. Linen table cloths covered the tables set between chairs. They would be sharing their car with several other ladies, but it was anything but crowded. This one train car was bigger than Olivia’s entire cabin back home.

  She turned in early and Mrs. Holland sat up to read by the light of a gas chandelier. She looked over at the small figure curled under the covers. Her long braids fanned out across the pillow. Olivia Overton, I like you. Mrs. Holland felt a sudden surge of protection. She thought of Olivia’s brash, brave, personality, yet underneath, was a naïve young girl. Olivia had learned hard lessons about life in the Blue Ridge, but New York would teach her life lessons of a different sort. They would come by way of educated, smooth tongued men and fine dressed ladies dripping with money and indulgent papas. I shall have to watch out for you until you learn to out maneuver them, she thought. I’m afraid they may be far worse than any adversary you’ve ever faced, little mountain girl. Readying herself for bed, Harriet put away her book and turned down the light.

  Chapter 10

  Olivia awoke to the whistle of the engine. Mrs. Holland was already up and about. Tea and biscuits were sitting nearby and Olivia hurriedly dressed. She was very relieved that the Pullman car they were traveling in was for ladies only.

  “You’re in for a big day, Olivia, a very big day. We are getting ready to travel through some of the biggest cities in the United States. You slept through Richmond, however, the nation’s capital will be coming up in another hour.”

  “What!” Olivia squealed. “I don’t know why in the world Jackson Daniels didn’t tell me about all this.”

  “Humph,” replied Mrs. Holland. “I am not surprised. He means well, but men are nearly all the same. Caught up in business, too busy to talk.”

  The train rolled through Washington City and Olivia thought she would swoon. She could see the U.S. Capitol building from her window. The dome, still unfinished, was covered with scaffolding. Even in its unfinished state, it was most impressive.

  After lunch, the porter called out that they were passing through Philadelphia. Olivia couldn’t see much besides city streets but it was still exciting. They were just finishing dinner when the big steam engine rolled into Grand Central Station. The building towered above the train like a huge behemoth. Hundreds of people moved back and forth on the platform as train after train pulled into the station. The echo of voices sounded off the ceiling and the deep whistle of steam engines rose above the din.

  “Olivia, you can close your mouth, dear, it’s drooping open.”

  Olivia quickly followed on Mrs. Holland’s heels. If she got separated, she would never find her way out. What a mass of people. She held tightly to Harriet’s arm.

  “It’s overwhelming, I know, dear. You’re walking through the largest train station in the world. I probably should have warned you a little more.”

  It was more than overwhelming. It was frightening. Porters called over one another. People raced to catch trains, couples greeted one another, and Olivia was fascinated. Harriet directed the porter to follow with their baggage on a wheeled cart.

  She hurried Olivia along. “Come, dear, we’ll hire one of New York’s hansom cabs to take us to the Daniels residence. I live just a few houses down from there. I’ll have our driver deliver my things once we arrive.”

  Olivia simply nodded as she continued to stare agog at all the goings on around her. Grand Central Depot was made of brick and masonry. Fancy adornments topped every window and the building was four stories tall! Great towers stood on either end with another in the middle. Olivia looked on as a small train car with a man standing on the back rolled by on tracks just in front of the station.

  “That’s a trolley car, Mrs. Holland. I saw one in a picture once!”

  Mrs. Holland smiled. “That, my dear, is indeed a trolley car. They run all over the city. You just hop right on, pay your fare, and go anywhere the car goes. You shouldn’t attempt those until you know the city a bit better, and never alone of course.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t want to ride one of them things.” Olivia and Mrs. Holland waited beside their luggage while the porter went to hail down a cab. Numerous shops surrounded the station. There was a restaurant, an oyster house and one purveying wines, liquors and cigars. The Hansom cabs were lined all along the way, many painted white with fancy decoration. All were covered to keep passengers safe from the elements. Everywhere Olivia looked there was pavement. Paved sidewalks, paved roadways even pavement between the train tracks. Not a blade of grass anywhere.

  The cab pulled up and Olivia began to load the trunks. “No, no, dear, leave that to the porter,” Directed Mrs. Holland. Olivia complied and climbed up into the cab to sit beside her elderly friend. “You seem rather quiet, Olivia. I expect it’s the long trip in addition to the hub bub of New York.” She patted Olivia’s hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll g
et used to it.”

  Olivia didn’t see how she would ever get used to such a place. Why she hardly even knew the names of things. There were people everywhere. More people than Olivia imagined lived in the whole world.

  The Hanson cab jerked forward and began to pull them through the city streets. Six, even seven story buildings lined the thoroughfare. Cabs, jitneys, wagons, covered and open, clattered over the cobblestone streets. Draft horses, mules, finely matched teams and single horses with riders mixed in the crowd. She tried to count how many went by but decided to stop at one hundred. No one back home would believe any of this.

  Shop after shop lined the way with every kind of merchandise you could imagine and some you couldn’t. Fish markets, produce markets, tailors and milliners. It seemed to Olivia that if it existed anywhere, you must be able to find it in New York.

  The cab turned a corner and a lovely street of row houses came into view. Each one with the same roofline, the same type of porch, but each uniquely different as well. Some were beige, other a ruddy brick red. All were many stories tall and only three rooms wide. Olivia wasn’t sure if these were houses or places of business.

  Mrs. Holland was busy trying to freshen up with a small compact mirror and a bit of rouge. “We’re nearly there, dear. The Daniels and I live on the same block. These houses are called Brownstones because of the color of the brick used to build them. They look rather plain from the outside but I can assure you, this is one of the finest addresses in all New York. Wait until you get inside.”

  Olivia swallowed hard. After all she had already seen, she couldn’t even imagine what awaited her. They departed the cab and faced the front of the building. Olivia looked up as she slowly took the brownstone steps. Mrs. Holland pulled on the massive door knocker. The heavy oak door opened smoothly. A dapper gentleman with white hair greeted them. “Mrs. Holland,” he said. Taking a bow. Behind him stood a chubby middle aged woman with white pinafore and matching cap. Her greeting was a bit more cheerful.