A Bride at Last

by Melissa Jagears

  He’d not stop looking for him until there were no more stones to overturn. So back to Salt Flatts they would go, see if the townsfolk had discovered anything helpful, and then decide where to go from there.

  But when he’d returned to the boardinghouse wanting to scramble back under the covers with Kate, she’d already packed their belongings and then convinced him to go to Raytown. She’d guessed he’d not spend the money to come to Missouri again just to look for his sister, so she wanted to do so before leaving.

  Raytown’s sheriff had known of one Jewel in town, a woman who’d once taught at the grade school. Evidently she’d come into his office many years ago, after an older student hadn’t been thrilled with her for punishing him for excessive tardiness and had given her a black eye in protest.

  The school’s superintendent had told them which church Jewel used to attend, and one of the deacons gave them an address. The man hadn’t given them much hope that she’d be the correct Jewel since he said she looked nothing like Silas.

  The coach stopped, and the driver hollered that they’d arrived.

  Silas kissed Kate’s forehead again. “Gotta get up.”

  She yawned and shook herself. “Maybe you were right. We should’ve slept in before we left.”

  “Too late now.” His chuckle came out more nervous than he’d anticipated. Looking out the window, the large house they’d stopped in front of easily dwarfed every building back in Salt Flatts. A wrap-around porch stretched across two sides of the two-story house, with a small third-story crow’s nest peeping up above the top gables. Balls scattered around the yard and a porch swing decorated with ribbon indicated children. What would it have been like to grow up in such a fine place? He’d wanted to find some relatives, but could he have much in common with people of such wealth?

  Getting out of the carriage first, he told the driver to wait, then helped a wobbly, bleary-eyed Kate out of the vehicle. He stood, blowing out his shaky breath, wishing he knew of something besides alcohol that could settle his overreacting heart.

  Kate grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. “Standing outside for hours won’t change what you’ll find.”

  Oh, but it had with Lucy—he’d missed asking for her forgiveness by about fifteen minutes. Not a regret he wanted to deal with again, so he shoved his feet forward. At the door, he knocked, and Kate tightened his tie as if making him presentable would determine whether or not his sister would accept him—if they’d found his sister.

  A woman old enough to be his mother opened the door, and he couldn’t find his voice. He’d only thought to find a sister, but what if they’d found his mother as well?

  The older woman looked between the two of them. “Are the Coopers expecting you?”

  Silas shook his head. He should’ve realized by the woman’s attire and the huge house that she was a servant of some kind. “I’m sorry to show up unexpected, but someone who knew I was looking for lost family members told me I had a sister named Jewel in Raytown. I was hoping to visit with Mrs. Cooper today to confirm or deny such a thing.”

  “Mrs. Cooper’s at home, so I’ll see what she says.” The lady opened the door wider and bustled toward another open door. “Please take a seat in the blue room. May I get you some tea or water while you wait?”

  Silas shook his head, but Kate asked for water for the both of them.

  The dainty blue chairs all looked too weak for a farmer like him to sit upon, but he followed Kate to a settee where she sat smiling at him, patting the spot beside her. But his nerves wouldn’t let him sit.

  “You look like you’ve never seen furniture before.”

  “Not anything like this. You don’t see such finery in orphanages or farmhouses.”

  “Silas?” A lilt of a voice made him turn around. A dainty blond woman of perhaps forty looked at him with bright blue-green eyes. She didn’t look a thing like him, and yet, had he given the housekeeper his name?

  “Yes?”

  She came over with arms open wide and embraced him. He brought up his arm awkwardly and patted her. She didn’t look like his recollection of his mother either, yet she acted as if she knew him.

  She tipped her head back and smiled. “My, you’re tall.”

  He was five ten—nowhere near Dex Stanton’s height, though this lady appeared to be barely over five feet. “Jewel?”

  “Don’t you remember me?” She stepped back and put on a small pout. “I guess the last time I saw you, you were only three, maybe four.”

  He cleared his throat. “Are you sure I’m the Silas you know?”

  “Yes, you look just like your father.”

  For some reason, having someone know what his father looked like and that he bore a resemblance made him want to cry. He had family! He cleared his throat again, hoping his words didn’t crack. “So you must look like our mother.”

  “No, I look like my father.” She smiled and patted his arm. “Let me check on the tea and cookies I told Mavis to put together, and then I’ll tell you all I know. I’m so glad you found me.”

  Watching her scurry away, he staggered over to Kate, whose smile was as big as her face. “Oh, Silas. I’m so glad something’s going right for you.”

  “What?” He grabbed one of her hands tight between his and squeezed hard, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “This isn’t the first thing. You and Anthony are. No matter what Jewel tells me, you’re my life now.”

  “Tea’s here.” Jewel almost sang as she came back in through the door trailing Mavis, who carried in a large silver tea set.

  Too bad. The shine in Kate’s eyes had promised him a really good kiss if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  Jewel lowered herself into the dainty chair across from them. Her blue silk dress made her eyes shine like her name. “Your wife, I presume?”

  “I’m sorry.” Where were his manners? “This is my wife, Kate.” He couldn’t help the smile at saying those words. “And I’m Silas Jonesey, but you already knew that.”

  “Jonesey?” She huffed with interest and picked up the teapot. “I figured they’d probably change your name to something easier to say, but that certainly isn’t anything close.”

  “My name?” His throat dried. “What’s my name?”

  “Shuh-bel-ski spelled P-r-z-y-b-y-l-s-k-i.”

  What had she spelled?

  She laughed. “That’s the exact look Ma always got after introducing herself during the years she was married to your pa. I find it fun to spell at least.”

  “But you’re not a . . . a Shubbel-es-key?”

  “No. I’m a Marchman, though my father was actually a Mumstedsman. And if a Mumstedsman thought he ought to change his name when he came to the United States, you’d think your father’s father would’ve changed his name too.”

  Kate squeezed his knee and leaned forward. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Silas tells me all he remembers is the day his mother left him at the orphanage.”

  “You remember nothing more than that?” At the negative shake of his head, Jewel straightened and began passing out tea. “Then, of course. Our mother’s name was Grace, though she didn’t seem to have found much of it in her life. She married my father, John Marchman, when she was barely sixteen, had six children, four surviving infancy. I’m the eldest. When I was ten, my father was thrown from a horse and died. Though he’d been a good husband and father, he wasn’t rich. Mother couldn’t afford to remain single and your father, Peter Przybylski, was willing to marry her, but . . .” Jewel shrugged and gave a sad sigh. “He had particular views on how family ought to be. He was willing to be a provider . . . for his own children. He wouldn’t marry Mother unless we were farmed out to Father’s siblings. Since my father had seven brothers and two sisters, that was easy enough. Though your father was a bit rough around the edges, he still let Mother see us. He sent us a gold dollar on our birthdays, and when we came over for Christmas, he gave us each a peppermint stick. You had an older brother n
amed Lawrence, but he died of the flu along with your father when you were three.”

  “I knew I had a brother.” That one memory of a sibling had torn at him—he’d wondered why his mother had loved his brother more than him since she’d not taken them both to the orphanage.

  “Mother needed to marry again—and this time, she chose poorly. The man’s name was Rooney, and he insisted that if she could give up her first four kids, then she could give up another. But she’d been an only child, and your father’s brother, who lives in Chicago, already had eleven of his own. So she put you in the orphanage.”

  Jewel stopped stirring her tea to look up at him and frown. “I was seventeen then. I wish I would’ve known where you went much sooner. I married at eighteen and, as you can see, my husband came from money. I could’ve kept you, but once your father died, Mother as good as disappeared. I saw her once at the market, sporting deep circles under her eyes I could’ve sworn were bruises. I asked her about you and she told me she’d given you up. I sent a letter to the Hall’s Home for Boys but didn’t get a response.”

  “Do you know if our mother’s still alive?”

  Jewel shook her head, her eyes downcast. “She died falling down the stairs a few months after I saw her last. I don’t believe it was an accident.”

  A blond-headed boy of about eight poked his head into the parlor and eyed the tea set. “I thought I’d smelled cookies.”

  Jewel laughed and held one out for him. “Go get your brothers and sisters.”

  “We’re already here.” A girl of about ten with long dark curls came in. “If Jacob says there’re cookies, we believe him.”

  A taller version of the ten-year-old girl came in along with a boy around the same age.

  “Children, I want you to meet your Uncle Silas. The two oldest here are Christopher and Catherine, my fourteen-year-old twins. Then there’s Isabelle and Jacob. I have two older boys named Randolph and Maxwell, but they’re already married.”

  Each of the children came over to greet him, and he had a hard time finding his voice to greet them back. What a wonder to go from being an orphan to learning he had more relatives than the six people in the room with him.

  “Do you have any children?” Isabelle’s hazel eyes were shaped so much like his own that he blinked to make sure he wasn’t just imagining them being so similar.

  “I have a boy, about your age.”

  “Is he here?”

  “No, that’s why we’re in Missouri—we’re looking for him.” At her frown, he added, “He ran away.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure.” He looked at Jewel, afraid of what she might think of this news, but not wanting to elaborate in front of the children. “I just learned about him myself two months ago.”

  Jewel gave stocky Jacob a cookie. “If we can do anything to help you locate him, add money to a reward, write to—”

  “Oh, the driver!” Kate jumped up and looked out the fancy-curtained window. “What do we tell him? He’s out there pacing.”

  Silas set down his cookie. “Could you tell us where there’s a decent place to board near here?”

  “Upstairs.” Jewel sprang up and rang the bell near the door, and an older man appeared almost instantly. “Please inform the driver to pull up to the carriage house and unload their luggage. We have overnight guests!” The way she clasped her hands as if it were Christmas stifled his protest. “Go on out and wash up, children.” She spread out her arms as if she were herding cattle through the door instead of people. Jewel looked over her shoulder. “I’m going to tell the cook to make something special. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The moment she slipped out the door, he closed his eyes, wiping at the hot moisture he’d been trying to keep at bay.

  Kate swiped the corner of his eye with her thumb. “I hope these are happy tears.”

  He shook his head. “Not entirely.”

  She squeezed his hand tight and tucked herself in close but said nothing. But he knew she was waiting for him to explain.

  When he swallowed enough to speak, he opened his eyes, but couldn’t look at her lest he cry and ruin his sister’s happy day. “They’re wonderful, of course, but knowing Anthony may never know them, that I might have lost my chance at being a father when I’ve only just become one . . .”

  “I think you forgot about me.” Kate kissed his cheek. “I can’t replace Anthony, of course, but we can certainly try to outdo your sister if a bunch of siblings for Anthony is what you’d like to entice him home with.”

  “Maybe we just might try that.” He slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer, forcing himself to smile despite the sorrow. “It’s certainly a tactic I doubt I’ll tire of.”

  Her fingers combed into the curls at the nape of his neck. “Tonight?” she whispered.

  Despite hearing the tread of fast-approaching feet, he leaned over and put his lips a breath away from hers. “I think that might work.” He kissed her for a fraction of a second before his sister’s throat clearing made him pull away.

  Even if he’d never found Jewel and learned he indeed had family, the promise in Kate’s eyes of creating his own would’ve been enough.

  Chapter 24

  With his hands in his pockets, Silas leaned against the Salt Flatts post office, his head tilted back until it rested against the siding, enjoying the sun and the unseasonable warmth that came out of nowhere.

  Once they’d returned to Kansas and more carefully checked the cabin, they’d discovered the bag Silas had bought for Anthony in Missouri was missing, but their son hadn’t packed much—the only other things they’d figured he’d taken was an extra set of clothing and a few pantry items. If he was still in the area, the boy had someone he was depending on, or he likely hadn’t survived the cold snap.

  In the week since returning home, they’d traveled the roads, taken the train to five stops both coming and going, and called until their voices were hoarse in the fields surrounding his farm. No sign of Anthony anywhere.

  Silas would have to give up his homestead to keep searching. But what if Kate didn’t agree? She’d be back from her last attempt to question the school children soon, but after that?

  The post office door beside him opened, but no one came out. He tilted his head to the side to look.

  Jedidiah stood in the doorway. “You got business here, or are you trying to scare people away with your scowling?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry my mood’s affecting your business.”

  “If people scare so easily, they don’t deserve their mail.” Jedidiah let the door slam behind him. “I take it you’ve had no luck?”

  Not wanting to voice a negative response, he simply shook his head.

  “You look like you need a drink.”

  “I do.” He shook his head. “But I won’t.”

  “That’s what a woman will do to ya.” He crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the short tree stump he had on his porch for a stool. “How’s life with the missus?”

  Silas smiled, more amused than anything by the disdain in Jedidiah’s voice. “I was an idiot for ever joining your woman-hating club.”

  “Yeah, well, so was I.”

  “What?” He looked at the older man askance.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  Silas kept his mouth shut. If Jedidiah wanted to spill something, he would.

  They watched the pedestrians walk by for a minute or so. Silas scanned the crowd for Kate, though he was pretty certain he’d know the moment she was within eyesight.

  “What if Lucy hadn’t died?” Jedidiah’s voice held none of its usual scorn.

  Silas licked his lips and swallowed. And here he’d thought Jedidiah’d be spilling his guts, not asking him to spill his. “I might not be as happy as I am now, but I’d have worked at our marriage—I was more miserable when she was gone.”

  “Yeah.” Jedidiah’s shoulders slowly deflated with a long, loud exhale.

 
Silas kept his gaze on the passersby. “Fannie’s a good woman. You don’t deserve her.”

  “I’d say she doesn’t deserve me.”

  He wasn’t about to argue with the man since that’s why Jedidiah and Fannie were still separated—no one could change his mind for anything.

  “How I’ve treated her, well, she shouldn’t have to be strapped to me.” Jedidiah squirmed in his seat. “Told her that a year ago, yet she still sticks around.”

  “Ah.” So he meant he wasn’t worthy of her. Now he definitely wasn’t going to argue. “So you’ve chosen to let your pride steal your joy.”

  “I don’t deserve joy.”

  “But it’s nice to have.” He pushed himself off the wall. “What’s Fannie want?”

  “Me, for some reason.” And yet the man’s arms stayed stiffly crossed over his chest, like a stubborn, chastised boy.

  “If you hadn’t just told me you’ve been waffling about this for more than a year, I’d have thought you’d finally smartened up. Why are you hanging on to being so dumb?”

  Jedidiah sniffed and continued staring out into the street. “Well, you’re no help.” He stood and shoved his way back through the door into the post office.

  A flash of ordinary brown far down Main Street caught his eye. Kate. If he could only outfit her in nicer things. He fingered the sales notice he’d penned while waiting for her. Maybe they could afford to replace her worn dresses soon, though she might not let him buy one after taking such drastic measures to get more money.

  Her eyebrows lifted the moment she caught sight of him, and he shook his head. Her frown seemed to slow her pace. When she made it to him, she clomped up the stairs and went straight into his side embrace. Oh, if only they were home, he could bury his face in her hair, pull her body against his, and lose himself in the joy of loving her.