Where the Heart Is Romance Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

  They hurried to Elizabeth’s car, and a conductor helped her board. “I can never thank you enough, Mr. Harcourt,” she said, smiling down at him.

  “I needed to get back, too.” He tipped his hat and ran to the rear of the train. He saw a familiar face as he got closer to the parlor car. Mary! His heart skipped, and he ran faster. The train had started moving when he jumped on the step and into the car. Laughing in triumph he wrapped her in a big hug and gaily swung her around.

  All his concentration had been to get back to her, and he’d done it! He lowered her to the floor and gazed into her eyes. She, too, was smiling, and there was something else. The sadness that flickered sometimes in her eyes was gone.

  Chapter 9

  Wyoming

  March 23, 1874

  J. is back! He stayed in Cheyenne City to help Elizabeth. Yesterday I got to visit the J. engine, escorted by a very nice man. I was lonely and didn’t realize how much I’d miss J. I couldn’t get him out of my thoughts all day, and when I thought I was thoroughly distracted, he was there at the edge of my mind, ready to snap back in.

  I was almost resigned to meeting my father without him. Then he arrived, just as the train was leaving. He was so happy he hugged me, as if he really cared. I’m ashamed of how I reacted. Like coming home, like a child who has received a present she’s been waiting for all year. I can’t explain, except that “overjoyed” barely describes my elation that he’d returned to me. My reaction shocked me so much I had to go to my chamber and close myself off for the rest of the evening and think.

  I’m beginning to like him too much. I thought our relationship would be barely friends, but I found out yesterday being with him is almost a need, and that scares me. Nothing can come of any feelings I have for him or any he’d have for me because I’m going to return to the East Coast, and he lives on the West Coast. To keep my heart safe, I must stay away from him. Leaving as quickly as I can after I greet my father is imperative.

  Last night I decided to enjoy the awesome scenery. I saw canyons thousands of feet deep, so narrow that a river could barely make its way through by shrinking and twisting and leaping in a silver line. The tracks seemed to be hung on the side of the canyon wall, and we crept along a narrow shelf, viewing the strange, shadowed world by starlight. In the morning we’ll be in Utah.

  Mary put the pen down and flexed her fingers. There was so much to see and record. The sun was now fully risen. They were near a field of boulders, pale yellow, red, and brown that rose massive and solid amid others that were piled and strewn in a majestic, wild confusion.

  On the other side of the curtain she heard the swish of a page turning, probably Jesse reading his Bible. She kept her curtain closed and reached for her own Bible. She read another chapter in Proverbs, savoring each verse as she gazed out, watching the canyon walls close them in under a blue belt of sky. She was awed by the majesty of God who’d fashioned the spectacular scene yet saw into her heart and cared enough to comfort and help her.

  She dressed and patted her hair into a subdued control with combs holding it up. With one last glance at the mirror, she opened the curtain.

  Seated in the easy chair, Jesse looked up at her. His long legs stretched out before him, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped. “Good morning.” The warmth of that devastating smile echoed in his voice.

  How was she going to go on without him? Leaning against the wall for a moment, she tried to gather strength. “Good morning,” she answered and stepped into the room. According to schedule, they’d be in San Francisco tomorrow. She must keep Jesse at a distance until then. She stood awkwardly in the room, trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

  “Mary.”

  The way he said her name was soothing, like a prayer, yet sent a ripple of awareness that drew her to his gaze.

  His dark eyes studied her. “I must apologize for taking liberties with you yesterday.”

  She pulled her gaze away to hide her confusion.

  “I don’t apologize for the joy I felt at seeing you leaning out of the train when I arrived. I don’t apologize for the affection that drove me to action.”

  He paused, and she couldn’t resist another glimpse of his dear face.

  His eyes were gentle, calm as they looked back at her. “But I owe you an apology for hugging you and twirling you around. It was wrong, and I hope you forgive me.”

  Mary shrugged, glancing at the bookshelf behind him.

  “Forgiven?”

  “Yes, of course.” She said it over her shoulder, not trusting herself to look into his dark eyes, full of emotions that drew her like tacks to a magnet. That hug was a turning point in their relationship. She reveled in the feel of being in his arms, of being cherished and almost loved. She’d never forget it. Never. Frightened of where her thoughts were taking her, she reminded herself that keeping a distance between them was the only way to remain unscathed and have her heart in one piece as she returned to Massachusetts.

  When she finished freshening up, the coachman came in to tidy up their parlor. “Echo City and Ogden coming up,” he said, picking up towels from the water closet and throwing them on the heap near the door. “Breakfast in Promontory. Union Pacific, last stop.” He gave them a toothy smile and left with the bundle under his arm.

  Jesse grinned. “A man of few words.”

  “He said all that needed to be said,” agreed Mary. She grabbed the sofa back as the train lurched around a sharp corner. The canyon’s arms were gone, and they had come out on a broad plain. She approached the window, with Jesse behind her. The sight of the jagged snow-topped mountains took her breath away. Jesse standing so close didn’t help.

  He pointed to a hillside threaded with green where streams ran down into the plain. “I’d like to meet some of those folks in the houses on the hill. What is life like up there, I wonder.”

  Mary imagined charming woods, picnics beneath shaded trees, a family, children playing.

  “See the cows. They probably supply milk for their neighbors.” Jesse’s attention shifted to her. “You’re going to be a teacher, aren’t you? Do you wonder who teaches the children in those houses?” His soft gaze melted her again.

  She steeled herself against his charm. His eyes were normal eyes, nothing special. Forcing herself to settle down, she said, “That’s right. I have a position in Boston when I return.”

  “Mary, before we meet your father, there’s more I need to tell you.” His eyes narrowed warily, as if expecting her to refuse the subject.

  She moved away from him—it was safer—and sat on the sofa. “It’s all right. I’ve talked with God about this, and… well, it’s all right to talk.”

  Jesse stood behind the chair. “He’s a good man, your father. I told you how in prison camp he took me under his care and treated me like his son.”

  Mary sighed. “I knew him as a little girl knows her father. I saw the “daddy” side of him.”

  “He still loves you; he always did,” said Jesse. He came around the chair and sat, leaning his forearms on his knees. He looked at her with pain in his eyes. “When we were released and went back to your home, I thought the pain would break him. We asked around, but no one knew anything about what had happened to you.”

  The thought of her father returning to such a bleak scene was almost more than Mary could bear, and she shuddered inwardly. Oh, God, all I thought of was myself and how I’d been stranded. I’m so ashamed of my selfishness. Forgive me!

  After a pause, Jesse continued, his voice filled with anguish. “He was so distraught I led him to a home we’d seen a mile or so before and got us a room. He walked in a daze and seemed overcome by defeat.”

  Mary sighed, her heart heavy with pain.

  Jesse knelt before her and covered her hands with his. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you must know.”

  His warm hands comforted her, and she nodded mutely. “I know. But it’s hard to hear.”

  “I pray
ed with him that night, and after a long time and much weeping, we put everything in God’s hands. Neither one of us had a home to go back to, so we joined forces and headed west. Many people from the South had to start all over again.”

  “All the way to the West Coast?” Mary wondered if they just struck out for the farthest place away from the tragedy as they could.

  “There were no opportunities in the South. A man in your father’s regiment had relocated near Eureka, California. That’s where we went. He straightened out their financial books, and I worked at logging. Soon your father became a partner, and—”

  The coachman came through the parlor car calling, “Promontory. Breakfast. End of the line.”

  “I’ll tell you more later about how we found you.” His face radiated strength and peace. “Meanwhile, we’ve got to have our bags ready because we change trains here.”

  Welcoming the interruption in the tale of her father and Jesse’s sad journey west, she thought of what he said about having no family to return to. She imagined Jesse as young, lost, and lonely, just as she had been. God had provided a family for each of them.

  She longed to comfort him, then realized that perhaps her desire to comfort him wasn’t all that innocent. She took a deep breath. Keeping him at a distance was going to be tricky since she wanted to learn more of her father. She’d just have to keep her emotions in check and concentrate on her father’s story. That shouldn’t be too difficult.

  Promontory, neither a city nor a camp, was merely a few ramshackle buildings and tents on the alkali dust beneath the scorching sun. The exodus of passengers from the Union Pacific to the Central Pacific trains was accomplished quickly and with little fuss.

  Mary and Jesse found themselves in a small, enclosed, double-seated room with thinly padded, dark blue bench seats. They stowed their belongings in the overhead cupboards and went out in search of their breakfast.

  Seated at a table with two other passengers, conversation was scant. She couldn’t stop thinking of the changes that had come over her in the last two days. The old resentments were gone, swept clean out of her soul. When a familiar, bitter thought beckoned, it was as if an intruder had knocked on the door of her heart. She could let it in or turn it away and keep the peace that had filled her that night. Never before had anything that wonderful happened to her.

  Jesse watched Mary carefully after they left the restaurant and boarded the train again. He was glad she had agreed to let him talk of her father, but she was withdrawn. As though she were with him but not really there. She even seemed to be avoiding him. He searched his memory for anything that he could have said or done to offend her but could think of nothing.

  As they began passing the Great Salt Lake, people rushed to the windows to see it. The view went on for hours, so they tired of it after a few minutes. After awhile there were only glimpses of its deep blue waters and snow-topped mountains through breaks in the hills. Mary was back to putting her nose in her book.

  “What are you reading?”

  Mary pulled her book closer. “Geography. I’m trying to catch up for when I teach it next fall.”

  A sadness stirred inside Jesse, missing her already. “You’ve experienced a lot of geography already, and there’s a lot more to come. And you’re going to love California!”

  “That’s what Eugenia said—that I’d see some geography firsthand.” She looked at him oddly. “But there’s nothing but desert out there. It looks like a dreary waste that stretches on and on forever.”

  “Some things go on forever but not the desert. And if you were on the ground, you’d see little plants and animals eking out a life amid the sandy dunes. It’s not a wasteland at all.”

  She shot him an unconvinced glance and went back to her book.

  In the late afternoon they walked to the back platform. They had climbed higher, and the desert bloomed with sagebrush and bunchgrass. Various tints of dusty green and yellow plants glowed in the cool promise of evening. Jessie edged closer to Mary. If only she’d come north with him. He could show her so much love and adventure.

  Chapter 10

  March 24, 1874

  I can’t get over the change! Last night we were in the desert, and now we’re in the midst of a beautiful forest in the Sierras. We’re probably in California already! I am a little nervous and excited about seeing my father again. I dreamed of him last night, a good dream. We were walking together in an old European castle looking over the walls to the water swirling below.

  So, although I’m ready to meet him, I’m filled with sadness because when I come back to Boston I won’t ever see Jesse again. I’ll never forget him. I love him, but we will always live on opposite sides of the continent. I hurt to think of it. I’m through writing….

  Mary picked up her guidebook and turned to the California page. They had passed through a forest of dark green pines, firs, and spruces with yellow moss on their trunks and were headed down the western slopes. According to the book, they would pass through sixteen tunnels and twenty miles of snowsheds.

  Needing to compose herself, she sat on the edge of her bed and opened her Bible. Psalm 148 spoke eloquently for the splendor of the view outside. An eagle soared up over the treetops in a breathless display of the joy of flight.

  After a few minutes, she opened the curtains. Jesse’s Bible was closed and on the table beside his chair. His dark hair tumbled over his forehead as he looked down, meditating. She thought she should memorize every little thing about him so she’d have something for the cold, lonely days ahead.

  “Good morning,” she said, pulling the curtains back. “Look at that view!” He came by her side as the train moved onto a bridge. It was as if they were in flight over a valley at least two thousand feet below.

  “Lovely,” said Jesse, looking intently into her eyes. She felt a blush creep up her neck. In a husky voice he said, “On the other side is a view of the mountain, straight up to its snowy summit.” They stood in silent companionship, awed by the majestic scenery.

  “Wait here. I have something for you. I think it’s time.” He went to his valise and pulled something small from an inside pocket.

  He approached, his gaze locked with hers. “We found this in the ashes…. Your father told me that if I found you, and if you’d come to him, I was to give it to you.” He held out a scorched square of blue silk with a ribbon attached.

  Mary felt the color drain from her face and her mouth go dry. “Oh,” she said in a small voice. He set the silk on her open palm, then gently dropped a coin on it. She gasped as memories flooded her. It was a coin, minted in 1855, the year she was born. It was her special coin—a gift from her father, sewn into the blue silk pocket by her mother. One of the two ribbons used to tie it around her neck was gone, the other, burned to a stub. “I don’t understand! I cried and cried when it was lost. How…?”

  “Your father said it was a miracle. He thought the Lord preserved it to give him hope.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes as they went through the darkness of a snowshed. “I have been so unfair to him.” In a hoarse whisper she added, “May God forgive me.”

  Jesse put his arm around her, and she leaned into his embrace. “He has forgiven you, Mary. You know that, don’t you?”

  She shuddered a deep sigh. “I know. But I don’t deserve it.”

  “No one does.” They stood close, Mary clutching silk and the coin. She gulped hard, trying to release the pain of so many years of bitter anger knotted in her throat.

  At a knock on the door they sprang apart. Elizabeth and the coachman were in the hallway when they opened the door. The coachman had a worried frown on his face, while Elizabeth looked relieved. “Mary. Mr. Harcourt.” A grimace briefly contorted her lovely face.

  Mary stepped forward and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  Elizabeth glanced at the coachman. “I’m just fine. I—”

  The coachman shook his head. “She needs a doctor.” He walked away muttering.

/>   Jesse took Elizabeth’s other arm. “Come in.” Elizabeth entered and sank onto the seat. A sheen of perspiration moistened her forehead.

  Jesse took her pulse. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, eyeing her closely.

  She bit her lower lip like a naughty child before answering. “Just a pain or two.”

  Jesse glanced at Mary, then knelt beside Elizabeth. “Pains in your back, circling your body?”

  Elizabeth gave him an apologetic look. “Something like that.” She insisted she was fine and would make it to Oakland without giving birth.

  Jesse shook his head. “You can’t stop nature, Mrs. Jamison.” He stood and left to see if there was a doctor on the train.

  Mary slipped the coin and silk into her pocket. She glanced at Elizabeth and felt a moment of panic, wishing Jesse would return.

  The coachman knocked and stuck his head inside. “Breakfast in a snowshed this morning, miss,” he said to Mary, ignoring Elizabeth.

  Jesse returned with a tall blond woman carrying a black bag. “Miss Sherwood and Mrs. Jamison, meet Dr. Louise Morgan; Dr. Morgan is on her way to Petaluma to start her practice.”

  As he and Mary left the chamber, they entered a snowshed, which branched off in a vee and widened like a mine tunnel. The train stopped in front of a little house, its door wide open and a breakfast bell ringing. Beside it were fields of snow, and the forest was close behind. Jesse held Mary’s elbow as they walked to the dining room over icy rock.

  “You don’t seem worried about Elizabeth having her baby.” They entered the cozy room and were seated. “Does your medical knowledge tell you it’s not going to happen soon?”

  “Everything happens in its time, Mary. You just take whatever comes along, do the best you can, and trust that things will work out for good. And they usually do.”

  “But bad things happen! Horrid things you never expect. They don’t always work out for the best.” Like your family being scattered or meeting a wonderful man you can’t be with.