anything else.”
Her shoulders visibly relaxed, and Wallace smiled. He’d said something that touched her heart, at least.
“Mr. Dupree, I’m honored that you think so highly of me. And I think . . . I think I just might be persuaded to give this a try. As a friendship. Until we have a chance to get to know each other better, that is. And we should both have the option of stepping away if it’s not what we’d hoped.”
Wallace nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “I agree to all your terms, Miss Hampton.”
She held up a hand. “There is one more term. My friends call me Caroline.”
“And mine call me Wallace. Now, as much as I would like to stay, I have exactly five minutes to get back to the train. Allow me to carry the basket to the hotel steps, and then I’ll need to be on my way.”
They gathered everything together and walked toward the hotel. Wallace couldn’t help the way his heart seemed to grow lighter and lighter with each step. She’d said yes. She’d actually said yes.
“I’m on shift the remainder of the week, but I have Saturday off. May I call that evening?” he asked as he set the basket on the hotel steps.
“Of course. I’d like that,” she replied. “And now you’d better hurry. The train can’t leave without you.”
“You’re right. Thank you, Caroline. I’ll see you on Saturday.” Wallace gave a slight wave as he sprinted toward the train, reaching it just as the passengers began to file out of the hotel. Just in time.
Chapter Seven
Caroline’s hands shook as she gathered up the basket and carried it inside the hotel. What had she just agreed to? Wasn’t she happy as she was, unattached and independent? Allowing Mr. Dupree to court her would take away some of that independence. Is that what she wanted?
On the other hand, saying he could visit wasn’t an agreement of marriage. If it didn’t go well, she could simply tell him that she’d changed her mind. He’d just said that either one of them could step away.
She set the basket down on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. The girls were busily washing dishes and cleaning up after the meal service, and she noticed that they’d put Emma in charge of the silverware. Washing the silverware was the task that went on forever. It was nearly as bad as ironing.
“How are you faring?” Caroline asked, coming to Emma’s side and grabbing a dishtowel. She could help dry—she felt she owed it to the staff, as she hadn’t helped with the meal at all.
“I believe it’s going well. Sarah has been teaching me how to dish up the food, and I seem to keep up all right.” Emma gave a tentative smile. “Thank you for taking me on, Miss Hampton. Things at home were becoming unpleasant.”
“Every young woman here has a similar story,” Caroline told her. “You’re among those who will understand you.”
She dried the silverware as Emma rinsed it, and before much longer, the kitchen was clean.
“Is it just me, or was today exceptionally busy?” Harriet asked, untying her apron and tossing it into the laundry pile in the corner.
“It was busy,” Sarah replied. “Miss Hampton, I think we need to make more servings than we are. Toward the end of this meal, I was scrabbling to put together whatever I could find.”
“I’m sure it was delicious. You’re a good cook, Sarah.” Caroline patted the girl’s shoulder. “How many additional meals do you think we should make?”
“Ten should work.”
“All right. That’s what we’ll plan to do.” Caroline glanced around, missing Elizabeth. Things just wouldn’t be right until they were all together again. “Has Elizabeth come down to give you any updates on her mother?”
“No, she hasn’t come down at all,” Harriet said. “I took up a tray, though, and she promised to eat. I’m worried she’ll wear herself out, fretting over her mother like she is. And as far as I could tell while I was up there, Agatha is still the same.”
“I’ll go check on them both,” Caroline promised.
“Caroline, before you go, could I see you for a moment?” Harriet asked, coming to her side.
“Of course. A private talk?”
“Yes, please.”
“All right. Let’s step out into the parlor.”
Caroline led the way through the lobby and into the parlor, and they both took seats. She noticed that Harriet seemed a little nervous. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. In fact, something’s very right. But right now doesn’t seem like the right time, but there isn’t another time.”
Caroline sat back and regarded the girl. “May I have the translation of what you just said, please?”
Harriet smiled and looked a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . well, I’m going to ask Elizabeth if I can borrow Rose’s cradle. After Rose has grown out of it, of course.”
“What?” Caroline sat bolt upright in her chair. “Harriet? Oh, I’m so happy for you!”
“I’m trying not to let it interfere with my work,” Harriet rushed on. “I really don’t want to make things more difficult, especially with Agatha’s situation. But you need to know in case things do become more difficult, and then I’ll need some time off, and . . . well, I just thought you should know.”
“I’m very glad you told me,” Caroline said. “Have you told the other girls?”
“Not yet, but I think Rachel suspects. I wasn’t feeling very well this morning.”
“Please keep me updated on how you’re feeling. I’m sure Tom’s very pleased.”
“It’s been all I can do to keep him from telling everyone in town.” Harriet laughed. “He’ll be a wonderful father.”
“I agree. He will.”
“Well, I don’t mean to keep you. I just wanted to let you know.” Harriet stood. “And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to add to your burdens right now.”
“Your news is hardly a burden. We’ll make it work.”
“Thank you, Caroline. I really appreciate it.”
Caroline didn’t stand up right away after Harriet left the room. She closed her eyes, trying to make her brain stop spinning. Harriet’s good news certainly did lighten her mood and help balance out her feelings of confusion where Mr. Dupree—Wallace—was concerned. But Agatha . . . She stood and climbed the stairs. She needed to check on her friend.
***
“I wish I had anything new to tell you,” Dr. Wayment said. “Her condition is the same as it was yesterday, which is the same as it was the day before. The longer she remains unresponsive, the fewer her chances of waking up.”
“I understand, Doctor,” Elizabeth said. Rose had woken up and was fussing, so Elizabeth put the baby up over her shoulder so she could look around. “I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
“Believe me, I wish I could do more.”
Elizabeth watched as he packed his supplies in his bag. “What do you hear from Jeanette? We haven’t gotten a letter in a while.”
Dr. Wayment smiled. “She’s doing quite well. Her studies are sometimes difficult, but she and the other nurses study together, and I can tell by the things she says that she’s a quick student. Of course, I knew she would be—she had a natural gift before she was ever trained. The best part of it all is that she still loves me. Who would have thought it possible?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I would. The two of you have a special bond—you’re meant to be together.”
“Well, I’ve never put much stock in destiny or fate or whatever you might call it, but I do believe you’re right on that account.” Dr. Wayment closed up the top of his bag and picked it up. “I’ll be by again tonight.” Then he paused, looking at Rose. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not.” Elizabeth passed the baby over to the doctor, who set down his bag and took the infant with skilled hands.
“Hello there, young lady,” he said, speaking softly. “I’ve never seen you so fussy. Is something wrong?”
She gave him one somber l
ook and then began to wail again.
“She woke up several times in the night,” Elizabeth said. “That’s also unusual for her.”
“Well, now, let’s take a little look, shall we?” Dr. Wayment laid the baby on the bed and felt her abdomen, then flexed and extended her limbs. He ran his fingers along her skull, ending up along her jaw. “And now for the grand reveal,” he said.
“The reveal?”
“Yes. The detective’s announcement at the end of the story, when he tells everyone who committed the crime. Step closer, Mama, and I will reveal the culprit in this case.”
Rose obligingly opened her mouth and let out another wail. “See those little bumps? Your daughter is teething. Her jaw’s a little swollen, which was the telltale clue.”
“Teeth? She’s getting teeth?” Elizabeth looked at her daughter incredulously. “But I just had her. She can’t possibly be getting teeth.”
“How time flies. Isn’t she nearly five months?”
Elizabeth counted in her mind. “Yes, you’re right. My goodness. I hadn’t realized.”
Dr. Wayment laughed. “You’ve been quite busy, what with your move, new job, remarriage, and so forth. You’re allowed to be a little confused about the passage of time.”
Elizabeth was still staring at her baby. “Five months. Thank you, Doctor. My mother would have realized what was troubling Rose—she was so good at knowing these types of things.”
“And so will you be once you’ve had a little more experience at them. First-time mothers really shouldn’t compare themselves to women who’ve had several children. Give yourself time.”
After the doctor left, Elizabeth picked up her baby, noticing for the first time how much heavier she’d become. How time was flying, indeed. “Our baby’s growing up, Mother,” she said to the still form on the bed.
Chapter Eight
Caroline smoothed down the front of her blue dress, then checked her hair one more time in the small mirror that hung on the wall of her room. She didn’t know why she was so nervous—she was just expecting a visit from a friend. That was all. And it was nice to have an excuse to change out of the dark dress she’d worn for work that day and put on something with a little more color to it.
She closed her door behind her and went downstairs to the parlor. Wallace hadn’t given an exact time, so she thought it would be best if she were ready early. She had a book to finish, and she could work on her embroidery while she waited. But her brain wouldn’t focus on either, and she found herself watching the clock impatiently.
After what seemed like forever, but was only about half an hour, Wallace entered the hotel and paused in the parlor doorway. He wore a suit rather than his conductor’s uniform, and Caroline had to admit that he looked rather nice in it. She stood and crossed the floor, holding out her hand to welcome him.
“You look like a summer’s day, Caroline,” he said by way of greeting.
For some reason, this flustered her even more. “Please come in and make yourself comfortable.”
They both sat, and then neither spoke. Caroline tried to come up with something interesting to say, but her mind wouldn’t settle on anything. Finally, Wallace broke the silence.
“You’re the sister of Mr. Brody’s mother. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. We were close, even though she was quite a bit older than me. We always lived near each other, even after she married, so I had a hand in raising Adam from his infancy.”
“And his parents have both passed?”
“Yes. Rather recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Silence fell again. This was not going at all how Caroline had hoped. Rather, it was exactly as she’d feared. They had nothing in common, and they would bore each other to tears on their very first evening together. Well, better to learn it now and save themselves the time and effort of trying to make it work.
“How long have you been with the railroad, Wallace?” She supposed it was her turn to introduce a subject.
“I started the winter after Regina passed. I was an engineer at first, and then I was given the opportunity to become a conductor.”
“You mentioned Regina before. She had an illness, you said?”
“Tuberculosis.”
Caroline nodded. “Tuberculosis does take many before their time. I’m sure you’ll recall the passenger who came through a few months ago with the disease.”
“Indeed I do. That was a frightening time for you, wasn’t it?”
“It was. And then Jeanette contracted it after caring for him, and we were afraid for her life as well. It’s a terrible thing. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. It was a harsh blow, but now she lives on as a pleasant memory for me to pull out and visit on long nights. In the meantime, I enjoy my work quite a bit.”
“Just what is it that you enjoy about the railroad?” The awkwardness was beginning to retreat, and Caroline was infinitely grateful. Another five minutes of that, and she would have had to run from the room or scream—possibly both.
“I recall that you don’t like it at all,” he said with a chuckle.
“And you are right. So tell me what appeal it holds for you.”
Wallace leaned forward a little, looking more comfortable than he had since he arrived. “Imagine having the ability to go anywhere you want, almost anytime you want, and to see anything you want to see. The railroad is making this possible, and more so as they build new lines. It’s amazing. The invention of steam locomotion harnessed in such a way as to bless the lives of men, women, and children every day, and I get to be part of it.”
A sparkle had come into his eyes as he spoke, and she liked it. It hinted at a passion that lay beneath his calm exterior.
“I don’t deny that the concept of the railroad is amazing, and for those who want to travel long distances, it’s certainly a blessing. But what if I don’t want to travel long distances? What if I’m content to stay where I am? Certainly I don’t need to be convinced of the greatness of the railroad if I never have any intention of relocating again as long as I live.”
Wallace looked surprised. “Do you mean to tell me that you would stay in Topeka and never set one toe outside it until the day you die? Come now, you can’t be serious. A woman with fire in her veins such as you have? You couldn’t possibly want to wall yourself off like that. What about new discoveries, new friends to be made, new places to explore? You are far too curious to turn a blind eye to all the possibilities that exist out there for you.”
“There are possibilities, of course. But I’ve been other places—I was raised in New York, where everything is possible. Now I’m content to stay here and let the world come to me, which it does every day when the train comes through. I’ve met people from both coasts and from the north and the south. They’re taking full advantage the railroad, and I’m blessed with their company without having to get on the train myself.”
“I’ll turn your question around and ask you—just what is it that you don’t enjoy about the railroad, Caroline?”
She laughed and settled back against the seat cushions. Now they were having a real conversation. “I already told you about the dirt and the noise.”
“Both understandable. I don’t care for them myself. What else?”
“I think . . .” She paused. She wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. “I think it’s the sensation that it’s never going to end, that you’re going to be on that train forever. I lose all sense of time when I’m on a train.”
Wallace looked at her curiously. “You run your life by the clock.”
“I do indeed. There are chores to be done by certain times, and if I go off schedule, we won’t be ready for the meal service.”
“But you’ve been that way much longer than just your short time here in Kansas—this is a life-long trait.”
Caroline was startled at this. “How could you know that?”
“You speak like it’s part of your very bei
ng. And the very small fact that you didn’t start running the hotel until recently—after your long train ride. So simple deductive reasoning tells me that you’ve always been fond of clocks and schedules and routines.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “You’ve figured me out. Yes, I’m a stickler for routine, and I always have been. I’m sure I drove my poor mother mad. It gives me a sense of direction, of purpose. And I dislike feeling as though I’m wasting time.”
Wallace regarded her. “My life is run by the clock as well—and schedules, and routines. From the moment I step on the train until the moment my shift ends, every minute must be accounted for. But do you know what I’ve found?”
Caroline shook her head.
“I’ve found that when I can waste time, I greatly enjoy it.”
She laughed. “You enjoy wasting time? That feels so . . . sacrilegious to me in a way. Time is a gift and should never be wasted.”
He lifted a finger. “Ah, but that all depends on how you’re wasting it. Have you ever spent an afternoon watching the clouds, for instance?”
“No, I can’t say as that I have.”
“Then you’re missing out.” He leaned forward again, the sparkle back in his eyes. “One of the finest afternoons I ever spent was out in the middle of a field. I had taken a sandwich, my book of Walt Whitman, and a bottle of water, and I watched the clouds and read poetry for hours.”
“Walt Whitman, and not the classics? Are you a transcendentalist, Mr. Dupree? That would certainly be something interesting to discuss.”
They bantered back and forth for the better part of an hour, and Caroline had to admit, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Wallace matched her point for point, and he never expected her to give him any quarter either. When the clock in the corner struck nine, he startled.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was getting so late. You see, every so often, it’s nice to stop thinking about what time it is.”
“Maybe you’re right about that. I’ll have to consider it.” Caroline tilted her head to the side and smiled. “This has been a very pleasant evening. At first, I wasn’t so sure, but I think it shaped up rather nicely.”
The Whisper of Morning (Kansas Crossroads Book 6) Page 5