by Vivi Holt
She stared down wistfully at her empty left ring finger. Even though she had no intention of marrying Mr. Newhill, she found herself wondering what kind of man he might be, and what it would feel like to be married. She shook her head. Marrying was not a part of her plan. She was going to Austin to find her mother, and then she was on a bearing for Broadway. She would sing and dance, and one day she’d be a star, and then everyone would see how special she truly was. Nothing was going to stand in her way.
Chapter Five
Michael
Michael paused to wipe the sweat off his brow. Working construction at the site of the new State Capitol building, even during winter, was hard going. There was no shelter or shade from the sun or the wind, and the days were long and harsh. Since the end of the civil war Austin had boomed, and its growth came on the backs of men like Michael. He stood to his feet, wiping the last of the mortar from his trowel as the final brick for that line of wall he was working on stood evenly in its place. He stretched his arms skyward, working out the kinks in his back that had camped just above his waist after stooping for so long over the growing wall. He glanced towards the supervisor’s tent and noticed the foreman glaring at him over a clipboard, his spectacles hanging low near the pointy tip of his nose, a line of sweat beading across his balding forehead.
“Hiya buddy.” Tony came up behind him and slapped him on the back. He exclaimed, “Don’t tell me you’re tired already, you slacker! We’ve still got eight hours of work ahead of us. You’re going to get on ol’ four-eyes’ bad side if you’re not careful. And you know what happens when you’re on his bad side? You have to listen to his whiny voice telling you off for at least a full ten minutes.”
“Don’t I know it,” Michael said. They both chuckled, and Michael hurried toward the wheelbarrow where he mixed up another batch of mortar. Tony followed him, and helped by adding water to the mixture as Michael blended it with a square-nosed shovel. He smiled at Tony. Michael was in high spirits today, regardless of the workload. “It’s all worth it. I need the money, because tomorrow…”
“I know, I know,” Tony said. His own smile faded, and he took on a look of irritation. “Ramona’s arriving. You haven’t stopped talking about it for days.” Tony shook his head. “I was hoping you’d come to your senses and have changed your mind by now. Why do you wanna go and get married anyway? There’s plenty of women around here for a man who wants to be single and enjoy the finer things in life. We work hard, we play hard. It’s the life men all over the world can only dream of. Why would you wanna go and change that on me? I just don’t understand you at all sometimes.”
“You know I want a family. It’s all right for you – your entire extended family live here in Austin. But I’m on my own here, and it’s awful lonely when I go home at night. I’ve always wanted someone to come home to, and the timing is right. I’ve got a good job, I’ve saved and bought a nice house, and I’m ready. There aren’t a lot of good women around here, Tony, not of the marrying kind. Every woman I meet is either unsuitable or already married. I mean, you tell me, when was the last time you met a single woman you’d take home to meet your mother?”
Tony kicked the ground with the toe of his boot, a light flush creeping across his tanned cheeks.
“Meet my Mamma? Heck no. I don’t bring any of them home to meet her. That would be asking for trouble.”
“Exactly my point. Austin’s a real nice place to live. It’s got potential, it’s gonna be somethin’. I don’t wanna move, but if I’m to have the family I’ve always wanted, I either have to leave here, or have a wife sent to me.” He paused and looked around the half-finished building before adding, “I mean look at this place. This building’s gonna be amazing, you just wait and see. It feels good to be part of somethin’ big like this, it sure does.”
Tony kept mixing. “I understand you wantin’ a family. But there ain’t no reason for you to rush into it. You’re young. Only twenty-five. There’s plenty of time to have a family. We should enjoy our freedom for as long as we can. Once we’re old and tired we can tie on the ball and chain.” He chuckled at his own joke and leaned on his shovel, sweat beads glimmering on his dark brow. “I know one thing for sure, you don’t need to order a bride in the mail. Especially not one from New York. Who knows what you’ll get? Do you really think a New York gal is going to fit in down here in Austin? Do you think she’s gonna take to you? Heaven only knows what she’ll be like.”
Michael turned back to the wheelbarrow to continue mixing.
“That’s right. Heaven knows. I’ve prayed about this, and I trust God to bring me a wife who will suit me, and will be my partner in life, whether she comes by mail or some other way.”
Tony sighed with exasperation, “You and your God,” he said. “Well, don’t come cryin’ to me when it all falls apart, and it will, you mark my words. I just wish you’d take some more time to think it through first.”
“I don’t want to waste any more time. We’ll be working on this site for at least another two years Tony, and even then I don’t know that I’ll want to uproot and head north, and I don’t want to wait any longer to be part of a family. I want someone by my side to share my life with. A good, sensible wife. I don’t know what Ramona will be like either, but I’m willing to give her a shot. God will take care of the rest.”
Tony scoffed. “Well, fine. I’ll let it go and I won’t raise the subject again. But, just one more thing - have you thought about the fact that you just can’t seem to talk to women at all? How’s that gonna work?”
Tony chortled as he began slipping bricks into place and slapping mortar underneath and between each one, his hands flying back and forth along the line.
Michael’s face reddened. “I can talk to them.” He threw the shovel to the ground, and joined Tony, the two men laying bricks smoothly and efficiently together in a row.
Tony raised his eyebrows. “Can you? You start quivering as soon as you get within a foot of a woman!”
Michael reached a hand up to comb it through the brown hair that had a habit of falling across his tanned face. “Well, this will make things easy for me, won’t it? She’s already agreed to marry me, that’s the hard part out of the way. I think this is going to work out just fine. There’s none of that awkwardness that comes between me and any woman when I like her, but I can’t seem to find the words to tell her how I feel, or to ask her if she’d like to take a stroll with me, or sit by me in church. That’s all out of the way. We’re getting married, so of course she’s going to be sitting by me, and walking with me. This way will be so much easier.”
Tony’s laughter filled the construction site. He slapped his thigh as his peals of mirth rang out, echoing off the mounds of dirt and bricks surrounding them. The foreman spun about to glare at the two of them once more.
“Ah Michael – you poor sod. That shows how much you know about marriage,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.
Chapter Six
Ramona
“Are you sure about this?” Elizabeth asked as she gingerly stepped onto the thick boards lining the train platform. It shook beneath their feet. The train was already approaching. “You’ve never even seen a picture of Mr. Newhill.”
The girls were standing in the middle of an immense building, its glass ceiling was shaped like a dome that sparkled high above their heads. In front of them a dozen raised platforms peopled by smartly dressed passengers lay in bright, clean rows over the ground. The sun shone down brilliantly through the glass above, sending kaleidoscope colors dancing across the train carriages as they moved deftly in and out of the station.
“You’re the one who talked me into this Mail Order scheme in the first place!” Ramona said, astonished that Elizabeth could be having second thoughts now.
“I know.” Elizabeth stared down at the polished oak beneath her feet. “But I did mean for you to pick a man based on your compatibility, not based solely on his location.”
As the two women spoke
, the sparkling carriages of an engine-less steam train glided quietly into the station, braking gently to stop in front of them at the platform.
“Wow!” said Elizabeth, “would you look at that? I can’t believe I’ve never caught a train from the Grand Union Depot before. I mean, I’ve been down here to look around of course, everyone has, but I’ve never actually caught one of the trains anywhere. It’s sad really, I’ve never been anywhere at all.”
“Me either,” said Ramona, staring at the silent carriage standing only feet away from her. She shivered as a rush of nervous energy sent a jolt through her body.
“Excuse me?” Ramona hailed a porter. “This luggage is to go onto the train please.”
“Yes ma’am.” The porter tipped his hat, and reached for Ramona’s bags, deftly swinging them onto the train carriage one by one. He slipped into the carriage after them and carried the bags out of sight, returning to the platform a few moments later. He was about to move on when Ramona stopped him again.
“One last thing if you please, where is the locomotive for this train?”
He chuckled, and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
“Mr. Vanderbilt didn’t want any smoke clouding up his glass ceiling, so the engines have to disengage before they arrive at the depot and switch over to a line that runs along the side of the depot. The trains glide in, and the brakeman stops it at the platform. Then, the engine trundles back around to pull the carriages out from the other end. It’s somethin’ ain’t it?”
“Well I never.” exclaimed Elizabeth.
“Will that be all ma’am?” asked the porter.
“Yes, thank you.”
Ramona pulled her traveling gloves onto her hands, pushing the fingers securely in place one by one. She rearranged several of the pins that were securing her hat over her tightly coiled bun, tears filling her eyes as she avoided Elizabeth’s face.
“I suppose this is it?” she said, finally looking up to meet Elizabeth’s gaze.
Elizabeth’s cheeks were wet and she dabbed beneath her eyes with a handkerchief before blowing her nose zealously. She let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe you’re really going Mona. When will I see you again?”
Ramona pushed a smile firmly across her countenance and reached out to embrace her oldest friend.
“I won’t be gone forever, in fact I plan on returning within the year so that I can get back to auditioning,” she reassured her. “I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “You’ve been a good friend to me when I needed it the most. I won’t ever forget that.”
***
It took almost two days for the train to make its way to Albany, Texas. From there Ramona disembarked to catch a stagecoach the rest of the way to Austin. She was restless for the duration of the journey. The auditions she was missing in New York weighed heavily on her mind, as she thought about the girls she knew so well from years of training and auditioning together who would be winning the roles she so desperately wanted. But most importantly, she wanted to find her mother and she didn’t know how she could even begin that search, having no money or transportation in Austin.
What if Mother has already left Austin? What if I can’t find her – what will I do then? What if I do find her, but she truly never wants to see me again and turns me away?
When the train finally pulled into the station at Albany in the early morning hours of the second day, Ramona was relieved to feel solid ground beneath her feet again. She stepped from the train onto the dusty, worn platform and her eyes widened as she took in the half-finished town. People rushed to and fro along the streets, and everything seemed to be covered in a sheen of brownish orange that floated through the air, and was whipped about in flurries by the wind. It was very different from New York City and everything Ramona had ever known, but it did have a tinge of excitement and newness about it.
Not much glamor out here. In that moment she almost wanted to run after the train, to scream out to the conductor to stop, and take her back to New York City. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked for the coach.
“Stagecoach ma’am?” asked a weathered looking man.
“Yes, to Austin please.”
“Name?”
“Ramona Selmer.”
“Yes ma’am, your passage has been paid for through to Austin.”
He picked up her bags, one in each hand, “This way please.”
Well, that was easy enough.
Ramona followed him to the stagecoach where the fresh horses were stamping their feet and snorting steam into the cool morning air, eager to get going. The driver secured her luggage to the top of the coach, and then opened the door for her to enter. She stepped up and into the coach, happy to discover the seat to be quite comfortable and only one other passenger on board.
Even though the distance between Albany and Austin was much shorter than from New York to Albany, this part of the journey was by far the longest and most difficult. They travelled for four days, stopping at a different boarding house each night for food and rest. In the morning they ate a hearty breakfast, and the cook packed them a picnic lunch to eat on the road. Then they were off again. By the time they reached Austin, Ramona felt as though her teeth had almost been jolted from her head, the sounds of horse hooves thundering along the ground now a permanent fixture in her brain. Her eyes were full of dust, her mouth was constantly dry, and her clothing was limp, dirty and soaked through with her sweat. The fresh winter air had been left behind, and seemed to be reserved only for nighttime in Texas. The days were hot and dry, and the air filling the coach was thick with dust.
It was evening when they finally arrived in Austin. Ramona staggered from the coach. Her legs turned to jelly, and she fell flat on her face in the dusty street. She sat still on the road with her dress bunched up around her, tears filling her eyes.
What a great impression I’m going to make on my prospective groom. Although, since I have no intention of actually going through with the wedding, I suppose it doesn’t really matter what he thinks of me.
The driver set her luggage down on the sidewalk and rushed to help her to her feet.
“Don’t worry Ma’am, happens all the time. Takes a while to get used to travelling by coach over those kinds of distances.”
“Thank you. You are very kind.”
In minutes, the driver and his coach were gone. Headed no doubt for a boarding house where they would spend the night before starting their journey all over again the next day. Ramona sighed and sat down on top of her purple satin bag with the green bows. As she sat there, she watched the townsfolk rushing by, or stopping to chat, the streets almost empty as people made their way home for supper.
I wonder what Mr. Newhill will look like. How am I to recognize him? I do hope he has remembered me. Everyone around me looks so keenly focused. They each have a purpose, something they must do, and they are intent on doing it. It feels very strange to have nothing at all to do but sit here, in the dust, waiting for someone who may or may not show up. And if he doesn’t, what then?
Ramona straightened her back. She had to remember: she had a purpose as well. To find her mother. That’s what mattered. Once she had located her mother, everything would be OK. They would be together again, as a family, and she wouldn’t have to worry about what she might eat or how she could get back to New York. Mother would take care of everything.
“Ramona?” A quiet, deep voice interrupted her thoughts.
Ramona jumped, startled.
“Yes?” she asked, thinking that the young man before her with the sandy blonde hair and large green eyes must be from the coach service and had come to collect her bags to take to the boarding house. Although his clothes and boots were caked with mud, Ramona couldn’t help but noticed his chiseled features and the two large dimples in his tanned cheeks beneath striking green eyes.
“Can I take this for you?” He nodded at her luggage, his black h
at twisting around in his hands.
Ramona nodded. “Thank you. I’m actually waiting for someone. Do you know a Michael Newhill?” she asked absentmindedly, standing on tiptoes to search the length of the street. “He was supposed to meet me here.”
The young man fumbled with the suitcase. “I’m, I’m Michael,” he said quietly, as though he was almost unsure of the fact himself.
Ramona’s eyes widened, “Oh. Of course. I’m sorry – I’m Ramona Selmer. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Newhill.”
Michael sat the bag back down and reached for her hand. Ramona looked at his brown hand as it took her own in a firm grasp. “I figured as much. Pleased to meet you Ramona.”
She felt a blush creeping up her neck.
Why am I blushing? He’s good looking that’s for certain, but it doesn’t matter one jot since I’m not marring him.
“Thank you,” she said hurriedly.
She squinted up at the man and considered his appearance. Yes, she decided. He is kind looking. Handsome too, if he were to wash up a little and polish those boots of his. She shook her head and her curls bounced. But none of that is of concern anyway. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. It doesn’t matter if he is kind. All that matters is that I find Mother as soon as possible.
Michael seemed to perk up. “You look as though you could do with something to eat and a wash after that long journey.”
Ramona’s mouth opened to shoot back a retort, but she thought better of it and closed it again.
Michael noticed the scowl forming on Ramona’s face.
“I mean, you look real pretty. It’s just that I’ve taken that stagecoach journey before, and I know how it feels to get to the end of the ride, that’s all.”
Ramona beamed. “Thank you Michael. That’s awful sweet of you to say. Of course, I would love some food and a place to wash up.”
Michael grinned shyly and reached for her bags. Picking them up he made his way over to an open wagon that was sitting behind a beautiful old chestnut mare.