"What's up, you don't like champagne?"
Elizabet took a sip to prove that she did. "No, no it's not that, I'm just not looking forward to…"
Tom put his hand onto of hers. "You want me to talk to him? I mean it might come across better man to man."
Elizabet shook her head. "No, I can't let you do that. This is my decision, I'll tell him myself. But-"
"But what, he'll be fine about it-"
"I don't know—you have to remember we've been in correspondence for six weeks now. I just walk up and say thanks, but no thanks. It just doesn't feel right."
Elizabet watched Tom get from his seat and come around to her side of the table. Taking her chin in his hand, he looked into her eyes. "Neither does marrying the wrong man out of obligation. Better to break his heart now, than a year, maybe two down the line." Leaning in he kissed her softly on the lips. "And there's no way I'm letting you do that. I know you're a good woman, Elizabet. That's one of the things I like about you. But sometimes you've got to think of your own happiness." Picking up his glass he took a sip and continued. "Put it this way, it's not like you both knew each other that well. I know you swapped letters, but can you really trust everything that you read. Heck, for all you know this guy could be a weirdo or just plain lying to you."
Picking up her glass, Elizabet took a drink and thought over what he'd said. She knew she'd been a little loose with truth on her end and never mentioned Charles and the problems he'd caused her. Maybe John had done the same, maybe he wouldn't be the exact person she was expecting.
"Come on, you hear stories like that all the time. A guy writes to a girl promising that he's wealthy, six feet tall and owns his own teeth-"
Elizabet giggled. "Teeth?"
"Well, you know what I mean. Next thing you know, that girl ends up with a broke miner who's as fat as a hog and gummy as a baby."
"So you know many mail order brides?"
"Well no, but I guess it could happen. Take my brother for example, he's supposed to be marrying one in the next couple of days. For all he knows she might look nothing like the photograph she sent him."
"Your brothers marrying a mail order bride too?"
Sitting back in his seat Tom took his glass and laughed. "What are the odds of that, both of us marrying a mail order bride?"
"So when is she due to come in?"
"I don't know, the next few weeks I think. In fact, that's why I'm going to San Francisco, he asked me to be his best man. That and I'm getting back into the family business. Guess I can't play the traveling hobo any longer."
"So you're not a traveling hobo?"
Tom laughed. "No, I'm not a hobo. But I guess you figured that out by now."
"Expensive wine gave it away."
Tom swore. "Always does. Guess I just can't hide the fact that I like the good life."
Wrapping her arm around his, Elizabet nestled in closer to him. "So you must be close then, you and your brother. If you're traveling all the way from New York to be there for him."
Tom shook his head. "Suppose so. But then I owe John a lot. He kept my father off my back when I said I wasn't interested in the family business. Can't really turn around and say no now. That and my mother swore that she'd cut me out of the family will if I didn't show my face. Families, huh."
Fearing the worst, but hoping she was wrong, Elizabet lifted her head and turned to face him, "You said John."
"Yes, my brother's John, so?"
"That's the name of man I'm marrying."
Tom took another drink from his glass and smiled. "And what? You think you're marrying my brother."
What's your family business?"
"Railroad. My late father got involved in the early days and did well for himself. He passed away a year ago-"
"That's what John said he did."
Tom smiled at this. "So his name's John and he works for the rail road. I bet you could throw a stone in San Francisco and hit anyone called John who works for the rail road." Laughing to himself, Tom patted her on the back of the hand. "And anyway, you're not his bride, he told me she was coming in a few weeks' time. That's why he wanted me home now. To help out while he sorted out the wedding."
"But-"
Putting down his glass and reaching into his pocket, Tom took out his wallet. "Look I've a picture of him here. Anyone would think you'd changed your mind about me." Opening a pocket of it, he took out a folded photo and opened it. "See. You happy now-"
"Oh my God that's him."
Tom took the photo away. "You're a card, you really are. Had me going there for a moment. Very funny." Taking his glass and finishing it off he turned. "Come on, jokes up, you got me."
Elizabet said nothing and stared at him in silence.
"You're not joking?"
She shook her head.
"But you can't be, you aren't due in San Francisco for weeks yet."
Elizabet bit her lip. "I'm sorry Tom, something came up and I had to leave New York as soon as possible. I had thought of going on an earlier sailing, but then the train came up and-"
Tom stared into the distance. "Sweet Jesus. What are the odds…?”
Elizabet took her hand away from his. "I can't do this to you and your brother, Tom. The last thing I want is for either of you-"
"We can work this out. There's no way I can stand back and let you marry him. Elizabet, I love you."
"I'm sorry, Tom. Please, I'd like to go back to my room." Wiping away the tears that had started to fall, she didn't wait for a response and pushed passed him. Feeling a hand take hold of hers she shook it free.
"No, Tom, please let me go."
"But…"
Running down the aisle, Elizabet didn't listen to anything more he said. Pushing aside a couple coming the other way she was relieved to get to her room before he did. Closing the door and putting on the bolt, Elizabet leaned against it. Hearing Tom argue his case she put her hands to her ears and tried to drown him out. Hearing his promise that he'd be back, she felt a sense of relief as the other side of the door went quiet. Leaving the door and sitting on her bed, she knew one thing for certain, she wasn't going to become part of a love triangle. No one could win in that situation. The last thing she wanted was to see Tom and his brother at odds over her. Elizabet knew there was only one thing she could do, she had to get away from it all. How, she didn't know yet.
Chapter 16
Tom looked out the window and watched the outskirts of San Francisco go by. Taking out his pocket watch he looked it over and knew they'd be in the station in the next ten minutes. Sitting in view of Elizabet's door, he looked up and saw it still remain firmly closed. Wondering if she'd had as rough a night as he had, he stifled a yawn and felt his bladder protest once more. Looking to the door, he didn't think a quick run to the toilet now would make any difference. Once he got back he'd resume his place outside her door and wait for her to open up. Then he'd make her see sense. Walking to the toilet, he replayed the conversation he'd had in his head all night. Going through the scenario over and over again, he pictured both he and Elizabet arguing their case to John, and John agreeing to it. How could he not? Elizabet clearly didn't love him so what was the point in going through with a sham of a marriage? He deserved to know the truth now and not later. His mother might be another case however. Having left on bad terms, Tom hoped she wouldn't use this as added ammunition against him. Feeling the train slow and come to a stop, he looked out a nearby window for a cause.
"It's another train."
Tom turned to see a porter coming his way. "Train?"
Joining him at the window he pointed ahead of them. "It always happens if the line ahead is busy. Shouldn't be too long—maybe ten minutes. Once they've moved on, we'll be in the station then."
Thanking the man and happy that he'd even more time to get to the toilet, Tom left as quickly as he could and got back to the conversation in his head.
Leaving the toilet and feeling the train under way again, Tom tapped lightly
on Elizabet's door. Hearing no response he knocked once more.
"Elizabet, it's Tom. Will you open up? I've got an idea, let's talk."
Tapping a little stronger he waited and heard nothing on the other side. Putting his ear to the door and expecting to hear something, he found the silence baffling. "Elizabet, are you alright in there?" Left only with his imagination for an answer, he found it give him the worst possible image. "Oh, Jesus no." Thinking that she'd taken her life, he shook the handle for all it was worth and then pounded on the door. "Elizabet!"
"SIR!"
Tom turned and found the porter he'd been talking to earlier. "Sir, I'll have to ask you to stop."
Ignoring the command Tom held out his hand, "Quick give me a key, we need to open it up. I'm afraid she's done something stupid."
"I'll have to make sure first," the porter said and walked to Elizabet's door. Tapping on it he waited for an answer. "Miss, we'll be arriving in the station soon, do you need any help?"
Hearing nothing he turned to Tom.
"Come on, quickly, open it, open it."
Tom watched as the man pulled a bundle of keys from his pocket and stopped when he had the right one. Taking it out and putting it in the lock, Tom gave him just enough time to open it. Charging past and expecting to find the worst, he found nothing instead. Looking around the room he found it completely empty. Getting to her wardrobe he opened it and found it bare. Confused, Tom dropped to his knees and found the space under her bed the same. "I don't understand."
"You're sure there was someone in here, sir?"
Getting to his feet, Tom surveyed the room and mumbled to himself, "She must have gotten out when I'd gone to the toilet." Leaving the room as quickly as he entered, he frantically searched the train. Calling out her name he stopped each passenger he met on the way and gave her description. Coming up with nothing, he threw his arms up in desperation and wondered how she'd avoided him. There was only one hope he thought, he'd catch her coming off the train. Once on the platform he'd get to her before she had a chance to escape. Confident that his idea would work, he raced to the front of the train once more. Pushing his way to the head of the queue, he got there just as the train started its approach into the station.
Standing on the platform, Tom stood to his full height and surveyed the passengers disembarking. Calling out Elizabet's name he ignored the passers-by who stared at him. Watching the crowd thin out and the last stragglers make their way off the train, he turned and wondered how she'd got by him. It didn't make sense, he'd searched the train and everyone that had gotten off. How could a woman laden down with bags just disappear like that?
"Elizabet!"
"She's long gone."
Tom turned to find the old man that he and Elizabet had met the day before. "You know where she is?"
"You must be a terrible kisser the way she ran off with her bags."
Tom held him by the shoulders. "Where is she I need to find her?"
"She got off the train when it stopped-"
Tom looked past him and then back to him, "Where, in the station?"
"No. She got off about twenty minutes ago that time we were stopped. I looked out the window and saw her running across the rail tracks with her bags—I'm sorry son, but she's gone. Now if you don't mind."
"Huh? Oh I'm so sorry," Tom said, letting go of the man's coat and getting out of his path. "Thank you, for telling me."
Smiling in return the man stopped and turned. "Been married forty years and still don't understand women. But that one, she seemed like a keeper. If I was you, I wouldn't stop looking until I found her." Leaving it at that, he tipped his hat and walked away.
Seeing a wooden trolley nearby, Tom sat on it and looked in the direction they'd came. Wondering if it was worth his while going back to where they'd stopped, he didn't think he'd be able to compete with her twenty minute head-start. By now she could be in a taxi and headed to any part of the city. Looking to the ground and lost in a world of despair, he felt a strong hand slap him on the back.
"Hey little brother."
Tom looked up and found John look him over.
John said, "This is the part where you say, 'Hi John. Yes, it's good to see you too.' I think that's how you'd say hello to a brother you hadn't seen in two years." Slapping him playfully on the shoulder, he added. "Why the long face? You think you'd found a gold mine and lost it all in a card game."
"You could say that," Tom mumbled.
Taking a seat beside him he asked, "And what was all the shouting about? Were you calling out a woman's name-?"
"Elizabet."
"Yeah, that was it. Elizabet. Funny that, that's the same name as the woman I'm marrying," John said and slapped him on the thigh. "Small world."
"Too small," Tom mumbled and walked away.
"Hey, where are you going to sourpuss?"
Tom turned and stopped. "To a bar, to drink my brains out—oh and by the way, you can wipe that smile off you face. After you hear what I've got to say you'll be joining me.”
Chapter 17
"Two of your finest whiskeys please," Tom said to the bar tender and made his way to a nearby table. Sitting in silence, he watched John join him with a quizzical look on his face.
"What's going on, Tom?"
Tom held his hand up for silence and waited until the two whiskeys were brought over. Taking the first one off the table and downing it in one go, he called for two more. Slapping John's hand away he downed the second one as well. "Yours are in the next round."
"OK. I take it these whiskeys aren't for celebration then. What's going on, Tom? Are you drowning your sorrow?"
"You could say that," Tom said and took a whiskey from the next round. Throwing it back he added. "That and trying to find the right words."
"Well, keep it up and you wouldn't be able to find them. That's three whiskeys you've had-"
"Two more," Tom gestured to the barman.
John held up his hand to cancel the order. "He'd had enough." Turning back to Tom he said. "Whatever is going on, Tom, I'm not carrying you out of here, you hear me?"
"Can I ask you a question?" Tom asked feeling the first of the whiskeys do its job. "What if you fell in love with-?"
"So this is about a woman," John laughed and picked up the last full glass at the table. Saluting his brother he added, "So my little brother's in love—what happened, she ran off?"
Tom ignored the remark, "What if you met the most amazing woman and fell in love with her. I mean a woman like you've never met before. Beautiful, witty, courageous-"
"Sounds like a keeper."
Tom slumped back in his seat. "That's what the old guy said."
"So, what happened?"
"She's due to marry someone else."
John took a drink from his glass. Putting it down, he said. "So she's not married yet?"
"No."
"Well then, there's no harm done then is there. I'd go after her. I take it, she feels the same way?"
Tom picked up a shot glass and rolled it around in his hand. Looking at it as if he'd never seen one before, he said. "That's why she ran away, she didn't want to see me or the other guy get hurt. She didn't want to come between us."
"So you know this guy she's marrying?"
Tom nodded his head.
"Someone I know?"
Tom nodded and waited for the penny to drop.
"No. That's impossible she's not due to come in for another few weeks-"
"She got the train instead…"
Tom watched as John said nothing and gestured to the barman. "Bring over the bottle."
"You have to understand, I didn't know until yesterday," Tom pleaded. "We got talking and then she realized that I was your brother."
Taking the bottle, John said nothing and filled a pair of glasses. Lifting one he downed it and then refilled it.
"You know if I'd known, I'd have stayed a mile away from her, I'm sorry, John."
"So after all this time, you've discover
ed what love is really like. The playboy has finally had his heart broken-"
"John-"
John interrupted him. "Now you know how much Laura meant to me. You laughed at the time and said I was too young getting tied down. But I knew right from the moment I met her, I knew I couldn't look at another woman again. Those three years of marriage were the happiest time of my life—but the lord above needed her more than I did. Thankfully he left me with a small part of her." Holding out his shot glass, he waited for Tom to join him. "To Laura."
"Laura," Tom saluted. "I'll stand back, John, I'll-"
"I thought finding a mail order bride would be good for me and little Amy. Someone to take care of us both. Maybe I could fall in love with this woman. But I can't stand in the way of love, Tom, Laura would never forgive me if I did. Exchanging letters for a few weeks—it's never going to compare to what I had with her. Maybe I'll find someone, maybe I won't. Better one of us happy than two of us miserable. I've still got my little woman at home-"
"So you're saying-"
"I won't stand in your way Tom."
"But mother, she'll…"
John smiled. "I'll talk to her. She can't complain, there'll still be a wedding to go to. It just won't be mine. That's if you're thinking of marrying-"
Tom leapt from his seat and held onto the table for a second to steady himself, "I've got to find her."
"I don't think you're not in a fit state to go looking for anyone," John laughed. Standing up, he pushed his brother back into his seat. Looking at the grinning face across from him, John put the top back on their bottle and called for black coffee. Smiling to Tom, he added, "I suppose you'll be looking for a best man now."
"Would you?"
"Not everyday a man sees his bride marry someone else," John said. "I suppose I better. Now all we have to do is find her. That is if you haven't put her off marriage for life."
Chapter 18
Elizabet held the piece of paper in her hand and read through it a second time. Looking nothing like the previous addresses she'd called on, it felt like Alice was on a downward spiral. Knowing very little of what had happened since she'd come to San Francisco, it had been one of Alice's co-worker's that had given her the details. Wondering what lay inside, Elizabet hoped that it was better than its outside appearance. Feeling a little uncomfortable and wondering what to do next, a group of young men made up her mind for her. Walking toward her and giving her a wolf whistle, she decided that going inside had to be safer than remaining on the street. Pushing the front door open, Elizabet found the first impression as bad as she'd thought. Hit with a smell that made her almost gag, she held her breath and put her hand to her face. Walking toward the stairs it wasn't long before she found the source of the smell, someone had been using the hallway as a toilet. Side stepping the mess and hoping that the worst was over, she thought better of touching the stair's handrail or anything else as she climbed.
Mail Order Bride: Love On The Line: A Mail Order Brides Western Romance Page 6