Threads of Love

by Andrea Boeshaar

  But the one kind of reminded Jake of Emily somehow.

  Lord, I imagine I see that girl everywhere!

  Trying to shake Emily from his thoughts wasn’t easy, and yet he knew he couldn’t completely let his guard down. After all, a man never could tell whom he might run into on the train.

  Relief washed over Emily. She adjusted her hat then peeked over the top of the seat in time to see Jake disappear into the flexible gangway, adjoining this car and the dining car. For whatever reason, she hadn’t considered the fact that Jake might want to eat.

  “Too close for comfort, Iris.”

  “We are within our rights. We can ride this train if we want to. We paid for our tickets.” She removed the hat pin and next her hat. “I don’t care if Jake sees me.” Her blonde curls seemed to dance with defiance.

  “Then you’re saying you don’t want to go any farther than St. Paul?” Emily shook her head, imagining the consequences. “Jake just might throw us in jail until Poppa comes for us.”

  “He wouldn’t dare.”

  “Let’s not tempt him.”

  Iris considered her a moment before donning her hat and repin-ning it. “Oh, all right.”

  Emily dropped her gaze back into her book. About an hour later Iris tapped her ankle with the toe of her boot, signaling Jake’s return. Emily held her breath and watched beneath the brim of her hat as Jake passed.

  She exhaled.

  “Is it safe now?” Iris’s voice rose above the din of the car.

  Several rows up, Jake hesitated.

  Emily pushed her foot into Iris’s.

  Jake kept on walking.

  When he’d left the car, Emily lifted her gaze. “Your destiny almost found us out.”

  Iris merely grinned. “There is a greater force that will see us all the way to Fallon, Em. God has it all planned. I just have a feeling . . . ”

  “We’re headed for the Pacific Ocean, remember? Not Fallon.” Although Emily couldn’t say she’d mind if Jake asked them to visit a real, western ranch.

  “Oh, right. Pacific Ocean.”

  Emily breathed a sigh then asked God once again to protect them and see them through on their journey west.

  At six forty-five the train pulled into Union Station in St. Paul, Minnesota. It was ever-so-much larger than the depots in Manitowoc or even Milwaukee. Constructed in brick, the building stood several stories high, and the throng of passengers bustling through the station amazed Emily. Fortunately several attendants were most helpful. They purchased their tickets, opting for the regular passenger car rather than paying ten dollars more for a sleeper. As there were almost three hours to kill before their train left, they checked their valises, wired their families, and then found a small eating establishment nearby that served up a tasty and filling supper. Emily knew that at any given time Jake might spot them, although she didn’t see him in the eatery.

  As they strolled back to the station in twilight, Iris halted on the street corner. “Look at the grand clock, Em, built into the base of the train depot’s steeple. I wonder who winds it each night.”

  Emily smiled. “It’s most likely electric, wouldn’t you think? And we have remarkable structures in Manitowoc too.”

  “Yes, but this is St. Paul. We’re actually here in St. Paul!” Arms spread, she looked at the sky and twirled around in a circle.

  “One of the many things I love about you is your enthusiasm, Iris.” She hooked her arm around Iris’s.

  But as they crossed the street, Emily wondered if her father would be any less furious after receiving the telegram, stating she was safe. In the missive she’d left in his postal box, she’d promised to send messages along the way so her parents would know of their whereabouts and wouldn’t worry.

  Back inside the station they sat down and waited for the boarding to begin. By the accumulating crowd, Emily guessed there would scarcely be an extra seat. Men and women, and scores of children, waited for the conductor’s call. Emily wondered if they were homesteaders, going west to find their fortunes, like Andy Anderson did.

  Finally the boarding call came, and Emily and Iris stepped into the queue. This train was considerably shorter than the one they’d taken from Manitowoc. Several freight cars, one Pullman, a dining car, a club car, complete with a ladies’ parlor, men’s parlor, and the observation deck. Only ten cars in all.

  Stepping onto the train, Emily scanned the car. No golden-blond head or one covered by a Stetson. She led Iris to a seat near the back so that they’d have easier access to the dining car without traipsing past rows and rows of people.

  They sat down, and moments later two unkempt men sat in the seats opposite them.

  “Evenin’, ladies.” A toothless grin. The man removed his hat, revealing stringy, rusty-colored hair. “I’m Hank Batson and this here’s my brother Ulysses.”

  Ulysses removed his hat. Locks of dirty-brown hair fell over his high forehead. “Hello, ladies.”

  His murky gaze gave Emily a measure of discomfort, and she merely smiled guardedly. Even Iris didn’t speak, but gave a polite nod.

  “Hope you don’t mind our company. Looks like the train’s going to be filled up.”

  “This is a public car. People sit where they must.” Iris quickly pulled her book from the decorative bag she’d carried onto the train. It, like Emily’s tote, contained a couple of books, a knitting project, and her reticule.

  And their money.

  Up until now, Emily hadn’t sensed any danger. But unease prickled along the back of her neck. She wished more than ever that she’d catch sight of Jake.

  “I think these two are kinda uppity, Hank.” The stony-eyed Batson brother appraised Emily in an unseemly manner.

  Then Jake walked by without seeing them. Hope welled inside of Emily. If they needed help, Jake wouldn’t be far away.

  She nudged Iris, who gazed up from behind the pages of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening.

  “How’s the story?” Perhaps if she changed the subject the gaping men seated across from them would grow bored and seek out the club car.

  Iris slapped down the book. “This is one of the most tragic stories I’ve ever read. I cannot figure out what all the literary raves have been about. Florence Cooper at the library insisted that if I want to be an independent female I must read it.” Iris wagged her head, sending the blonde ringlets around her face swinging. “But I can’t understand why. This female character leaves her perfectly nice husband and children to go on a self-searching journey, which leads her to drown herself in the end.”

  “How tragic indeed.”

  “If only her self-exploration could have led to a relationship with Christ instead.”

  Emily agreed.

  “One must look up to see the truth. Poor Edna Pontillier’s awakening came in the form of allowing herself to be swallowed up by the ocean.”

  “Poppa wouldn’t call drowning oneself an awakening, and he ought to know. He sailed the world.”

  “Precisely.” Iris dropped her book back into her bag. “I’ll talk to Florence about not recommending this novel to others, especially women in a fragile state of mind.”

  Emily thought of Jake’s mother. She’d killed herself, or so they said. Mr. Ollie believed something else called her to up to the bluff, although he’d been up there himself and returned none the wiser. Could Jake’s mother have been struggling with some sort of emotional illness, like the character in Iris’s book? Poppa made mention once that Mrs. Margaret Edgerton hadn’t been able to cope with the death of her husband.

  Such sadness. Emily’s heart went out to Jake. Just as swiftly guilt nipped at her as she watched Iris remove her knitting and place it in her lap. Iris believed Jake was her destiny, not Emily’s. What would happen if she discovered Emily prayed otherwise? To find love but lose one’s best, most dearest friend . . . talk about tragic!

  Emily sent a furtive glance across the way and felt the tension in her body abate. Sweet success. Their unwanted traveling compa
nions wouldn’t bother them for a while. The two men had fallen asleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  RESTLESSNESS CREPT OVER Jake, and for the life of him, he couldn’t get comfortable. Luck hadn’t been on his side tonight, that’s for sure. He’d done some walking, thinking, and praying this evening, and then his dinner was late when he finally got around to eating. Altogether he’d nearly missed the train out of St. Paul. To further his disappointment, he’d tried to purchase a ticket in the sleeper car, but it was full, and he hadn’t arrived early enough to claim his usual seat at one of the car’s ends, so he could keep an eye on passengers. He felt like that proverbial sitting duck in this location. Well, maybe he’d walk over to the dining car and buy a cup of coffee. Didn’t seem he’d get much sleep tonight anyhow.

  Standing, Jake made his way down the narrow aisle toward the diner. Two men caught his eye. If they weren’t trouble, he didn’t know who was. He glanced across at the two sleeping ladies sitting across from them and—

  Emily!

  Jake stopped, staring, wondering if his mind played tricks on him. But, no, he’d recognize Em’s sweet, round face and red-brown hair anywhere. She looked so peaceful as she slept, angelic even. His gaze slid to her companion. Iris. He should have known.

  The scruffy men in the adjacent seats held their heads together, whispering in obvious conspiracy, and Jake glimpsed the ladies’ reticules in their book bags. He moved forward and then leaned on the side of the one man’s chair.

  He looked up, his gray eyes wide with surprise.

  “If you touch those purses or harm even a single hair on these ladies’ heads, you’ll deal with me. Understand?”

  The guy closest to Jake gave a nod, but tiny lines around the other man’s eyes went taut.

  “How dare you insinuate we’d do such things, sir. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Yet. You haven’t done anything . . . yet.” He shifted, appraising the two. He’d bet they only owned the clothes on their backs. He rubbed his jaw. Maybe some town sheriff purchased train tickets west just to get rid of them. Happened frequently. “I appreciate the fact you haven’t acted on any temptations. How ’bout taking a walk to the club car?” He reached into his pocket and fished out two quarters. “Or get yourselves some coffee at the diner. Both cars are open all night.”

  The men accepted the money. Jake softened and pulled his billfold from his jacket’s inner breast pocket. He gave the men each a dollar. “Have a meal or two while you’re at it. Looks like it’s been a while, eh?”

  “Yes sir, it has at that.” The men exchanged glances. “Thanks, pal.”

  “When you return, find yourselves different seats. I happen to know there’s two up front.”

  Jake moved aside to let the men rise and file out of their seats. He pointed the two toward the dining and club cars. As they passed, Jake got a whiff of their unwashed bodies and grimaced. Obviously it had been a while since they’d bathed as well as eaten.

  Emily coughed and her eyes fluttered open. She sucked in a startled breath until recognition set into her sleepy gaze. “Jake!” A sheepish smile played across her pink lips.

  Shrugging out of his jacket, he sat down. As good as it was to see Em again, questions plagued him. “What are you doing on this train?”

  “Oh . . . ” She wiggled up to a straighter sitting position. “Iris and I . . . well, we decided on an adventure.” Her gaze briefly touched on her friend before returning to Jake. Again her lovely smile.

  “Your parents know about this?” He felt certain they didn’t.

  “They do now. I left them a detailed note and sent a wire from St. Paul.”

  Why this train? Why now? “Where you two headed?”

  “The Pacific Ocean.” Emily laughed softly, maybe even nervously. “Iris got this idea in her head to ride this railroad to the end of the line, see the ocean, and come back. We’ll have something to tell our students in the fall, plus we’ll have proved ourselves capable women in our families’ eyes.”

  “If your father doesn’t kill you first.” He should have known the nutty scheme had been Iris’s. He leaned forward and clasped his hands over his knees. “Emily, you don’t always have to follow Iris’s lead on things. Trains going west aren’t always safe.” He whispered so as not to disturb other sleeping passengers. “There are robberies, train accidents. In fact, just recently a bridge collapsed, killing most of the folks on board. And those men, sitting across from you . . . ”

  “What about them?” A frown creased her brow.

  “I’m pretty sure they were about to steal yours and Iris’s purses. I was on my way to the dining car and happened to catch those wayfarers before they snatched your money.”

  “We’ll be more careful.” She lifted her purse from out of the carryall bag and put its long strap around her neck.

  “Careful? That’s not good enough. Are you prepared to encounter the likes of Butch Cassidy and his gang or the wanted outlaw Kid Curry?”

  Emily didn’t look a bit deterred. “Mr. Ollie never had a problem.”

  Jake sat back. He couldn’t argue. Granddad always made it safely to Fallon and back. Considering the determined tilt to her chin, he tried not to grin. One other thing was for sure, Emily Sundberg didn’t scare easily.

  “As for Poppa, I’m of legal age, Jake. I’ve proved my independence financially. He needs to respect me and stop interfering in my life at every turn.”

  She gave him a pointed stare, and Jake knew she referenced her father’s warning the other day. So this was revenge.

  He rubbed his hand along the side of his scratchy jaw and gazed at the shuttered window, closed for the night. Suddenly the image of Em eavesdropping on Andy Anderson’s conversation with the elder Mrs. Sundberg flashed through his mind. Andy. On his way to Idaho. So that’s what this trip was really about. Chasing after Andy.

  Jealousy, ripe and green, pumped through his arteries and thudded against his temples. What a fool he’d been, considering life-changing options just so he could return to Manitowoc. To Emily.

  Except she loved Andy. Didn’t that beat all . . . the man had been more than rude to her. Couldn’t she understand that he didn’t have the slightest interest in her?

  Jake couldn’t sit here anymore. He couldn’t stand to look at her pretty blue eyes. It hurt too much.

  Without a word he stood and made his way to the diner.

  What just happened?

  Emily watched Jake stand and leave the passenger car. The door closed behind him, and he disappeared into the gangway. She turned back around in her seat. He seemed furious—no, something else. Something beyond description. She’d seen the emotion glint in his dark gaze but couldn’t be sure what it had been. Did he think she lied? The Pacific Coast really was their point of destination, unless they garnered an invitation to Jake’s ranch, which didn’t look promising at the moment.

  The train’s rhythmical sway caused Emily’s eyes to feel heavy again. Then she spied Jake’s jacket on one of the seats across the way and hoped those scruffy men wouldn’t return . . . and Jake would.

  She checked on Iris, sleeping soundly. Emily grinned. Iris could sleep through cannon fire, not that either she or Emily had ever heard cannon fire. But if it exploded around them in the middle of the night, Iris would sleep through it!

  Easing back, Emily closed her eyes and saw an image of Jake with that emotion in his gaze. Had she wounded him somehow? Maybe he was just irked. She’d known all along that he’d side with Poppa. But perhaps he felt responsible for Iris and her, and that didn’t sit well with him. Well, he needn’t worry. She mustered her resolve. They wouldn’t trouble him.

  Emily awoke to find Iris shaking her shoulder. She’d dozed off again. Sunlight streamed through the windows across the aisle, and for that reason, many passengers didn’t open their wooden shutters.

  “I’m famished. Let’s go fix ourselves up in the ladies’ parlor and then head for the dining car.”

  Emily bobbed out
a reply and yawned. Her stomach gnawed at her. Breakfast sounded good. She walked down the narrow aisle, through the noisy flexible gangway, and had to actually pass through the dining car to first make use of the ladies’ parlor and toilet. The men’s parlor, she’d heard, was nearer to the club car.

  The train jostled and swayed them as she and Iris waited their turn in the dressing room. Emily felt the rumble of the wheels on steel rails beneath her feet.

  “Jake saw us last night.”

  Surprise rounded Iris’s eyes. “When did that happen?”

  “In the wee hours of this morning, while you were sleeping.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t think he was very pleased to see us.”

  Iris seemed to tuck the information into the folds of her mind before she shrugged. “Just like your brothers, Emily. Remember how aggravated they’d become years ago when we’d follow them around and do whatever they were doing?”

  Emily remembered.

  “I think Jake is behaving a bit like your brothers.”

  “But why would he?”

  “Because we didn’t ask him first.” She gave a decisive nod of her head. “It’s just as Granny says. Men like to feel that they’re in control.”

  Emily wondered, although the statement certainly rang true in the Sundberg household. How Momma and Besta put up with it, she’d never know.

  At last their turn came, and in a box-size room, she and Iris managed to straighten their many petticoats and repin their hair and hats. In the mirror on the wall, Emily glimpsed the dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. The few hours she had slept had been fitful ones. She’d been distrustful of the men seated across from them and then Jake had awakened her. The way he stalked off had been disconcerting, and Emily kept dreaming about it until Iris woke her up.

  She’d also dreamed of outlaws stealing their money.

  “Iris, let’s hide our funds in our bodices and not keep it in our purses, lest we’re robbed.” She wouldn’t scare Iris with the details.