When the Storm Breaks

by Bonnie Leon

  “How far is it ta Boston from San Francisco?”

  “More than three thousand miles, I should think. A great distance.”

  “Is that like the trip from Thornton Creek ta Brisbane?”

  “Oh no. Much farther. It will take us more than a week by train.”

  “I like riding trains.” Callie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Smells good, eh?”

  “Yes.”

  Callie opened her eyes and gazed at Rebecca. “Is it much different in America than in Australia?”

  “Yes. I would say so. But different isn’t bad. It’s quite nice. In fact, the trains are much nicer and more comfortable than the one we took from Toowoomba to Brisbane.”

  “Nicer how?”

  “The seats are more comfortable and newer. And there’s no dust. The passenger cars are always kept clean. Plus, full meals are served in the dining car. And we’ll have a private room for sleeping, plus toilet facilities.”

  “Yer ’avin’ me on, mum.” Callie grinned.

  “No. We’ll be staying in a sleeping car. Daniel insisted.” Rebecca wondered if the sleeping car was too great an expense for the family’s present situation. “And indoor plumbing is something you’ll have to get used to.” Audry whimpered, and Rebecca gently bounced her.

  “How’s that, mum?”

  “We don’t use a dunny in Boston. There are indoor lavatories with flushing toilets and running water.”

  “Sounds strange.”

  “Not really.” Rebecca pulled the blanket up over the top of Audry’s head. “I’ve never seen Thomas’s home, but I’m certain it will be quite comfortable.” Feeling a rush of pleasure, Rebecca continued, “I can’t wait to show you the city. It’s a fascinating place. We’ll go to the symphony and the ballet. Would you like that?”

  “I never been. What’s a symphony and ballet?”

  Rebecca chuckled. “Well, a symphony is a group of musicians who play instruments like violins, flutes, and cellos. They play music for an audience.”

  Callie nodded but still looked confused.

  “And a ballet is an elegant style of dancing usually performed to symphonic music. The dance tells a story.”

  “I’d like ta see that.” Callie grinned. “America is a fine place, eh?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “I wish Koora could see it. I’ll tell him all ’bout America when I get home. Or I’ll write ta him. He can read some now.”

  “Are you and Koora serious about each other?”

  Callie’s color deepened. “Yais, mum. We plan ta wed when I get back.”

  “How wonderful! We’ll have a party.”

  “Maybe, mum. I don’t know that Koora would like that much.”

  Rebecca, the children, and Callie spent one full day in San Francisco. They traveled the city, mostly on foot, looking inside shops and walking along the seashore.

  The ocean was cool and the sandy beaches a darker color than the ones in Queensland, but it felt good to stroll along the shoreline. At the end of the day, they were grateful for comfortable beds.

  Callie climbed into a bed across the room from Rebecca’s. “Night, mum.”

  “Good night,” Rebecca said, pulling the blanket up under her chin and staring at the ceiling.

  She was exhausted but not sleepy. The sounds of the city spilled in through an open window. A man’s tenor voice carried from somewhere nearby. He sang a lyrical tune unfamiliar to Rebecca, but she liked it. The song ended, and the clomping of horses’ hooves passing on the street below replaced its lilt.

  “I never seen nothin’ like this place, mum. It’s grand, but I don’t think I fit ’ere,” Callie said from the darkness.

  “You must give it time. When I moved to Douloo, it took me quite a long while before I became accustomed to life there.”

  “Yais. I remember. Ya didn’t fit. And now yer goin’ where ya came from.”

  “Yes. Boston.” Rebecca’s melancholy returned. Douloo was home to her now, not Boston.

  “We won’t be stayin’ long enough for me ta get comfortable though, will we?”

  Rebecca rolled onto her side and tucked her pillow beneath her cheek. “I hope not.”

  The city sounds that had once comforted now seemed dissonant to Rebecca. She preferred the yelp of dingoes and the thump of kangaroos or the soft whisper of a dry breeze. The grasslands were tranquil and unhurried. She missed them.

  The following morning passed in a blur of activity. After rising, breakfasting, preparing for the journey, and finally catching a hansom cab that took them to the train station, Rebecca was thankful to board. She carried Audry against her shoulder and kept a hold of Joseph’s hand as they climbed the steps. Callie carried two bags, which contained just enough necessities to provide for their needs.

  Rebecca moved down the aisle, searching for their compartment. Finally spotting it, she opened the door and stepped into the small room, then wearily dropped onto a seat.

  Still hanging on to the luggage, Callie looked around the compartment. “Roight nice. Like ya said.” Callie sat facing Rebecca.

  “Yes.” Rebecca didn’t feel much like talking. Her thoughts were with Daniel. If only he was with her—then things would feel right.

  “Mum, ya look sad.”

  “Guess I am.”

  “We ’ave a saying. There’s a reason for all things. Nothin’s on accident.”

  “Why, Callie, that sounds like it came right out of the Bible.”

  “No, mum. I remember me mum telling me ta trust whatever come me way, that there was good reason for it. And if ya accepted what was happenin’, then good would touch ya.” She smiled.

  “I agree,” Rebecca said. “It’s just that I don’t always easily accept my lot.”

  The train whistle blew, and the coach jerked and then slowly moved forward. Joseph sat on bent knees and pressed his face to the window. He remained there as the train picked up speed and the station dropped away behind them.

  Hours and then days passed. Rebecca’s body was sore, and she longed for the comfort of her own bed and the security of Daniel’s arms. The thought of him made her feel tense and lonely.

  Lord, please take good care of him.

  Callie watched open countryside slide past. “This is a grand place. As big as Australia, eh?”

  “Yes. It startles me, actually.”

  Callie gazed out at plains that stretched to the horizon. “Looks like the flats, I’d say.”

  “It does at that.”

  “Is Boston like this?”

  “Oh no. Nothing like this. It’s green and hilly, and of course, there’s the Atlantic Ocean. Its beaches aren’t as spectacular as those in Queensland, but they’re lovely all the same. The city is busy and sometimes a bit brash, but it has a special charm.” She moved a sleeping Audry to her other shoulder. “We may have already had our first snowfall. It can get quite cold this time of year.”

  “Don’t like the cold much.”

  By the time the train arrived at the station in Boston, Joseph was barely able to restrain his excitement while he waited for his mother to disembark. He ran up and down the aisle, then stepped back into their compartment, all the while talking about everything he had seen while the train approached the city.

  Finally he asked, “Are we there, Mum?”

  “Yes.” Rebecca wasn’t sure what she’d expected to feel when she arrived, but it hadn’t been numbness.

  Callie gazed at the city. “It’s big. And there’s so many people comin’ and goin’.”

  “Can we get off?” Joseph asked.

  Rebecca looked out at the bustling city, feeling a flush of anticipation. She suddenly couldn’t wait to see her aunt.

  “Mum,” Joseph said.

  “In a moment, Joseph. The train hasn’t stopped completely.”

  Rebecca could see Mildred and Thomas standing on the platform. Mildred gripped a handkerchief in her hands, and Thomas had placed his arm protectively about her narrow shoulders
. The heavy weight Rebecca had been carrying suddenly lifted. All she could think of was finding her way into Mildred’s arms.

  “Mummy, where is she?” Joseph asked.

  “There. See? Right there.” Rebecca pointed at Mildred.

  “In the funny hat?”

  “Yes. She’s wearing the funny hat.”

  Obviously Mildred had been to the millinery shop and purchased the latest Paris fashion. It didn’t quite suit her, but it was grand to see her wearing the stylish hat with its large feather drooping down in back.

  Callie carried Audry, and Rebecca held Joseph’s hand as they moved down the aisle and stepped from the train. Unable to contain herself, Rebecca picked up Joseph and ran. “Auntie!”

  The small, frail-looking woman stepped toward Rebecca. “Oh my! How wonderful to see you!” She pulled Rebecca and Joseph into her arms. “Oh, my dears, I’ve missed you so.” She stepped back and studied Rebecca. “I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”

  “Of course you would. Even without the difficulties, I would have come to visit.”

  “Difficulties. You didn’t say what was wrong, but I did wonder when you said Daniel was remaining at Douloo.” She reached out and caressed Joseph’s cheek, then looked at Rebecca. “Is everything all right between you two?”

  “Yes. Everything’s fine for us. But there is trouble. We’ll talk more about it later. Right now I just want to enjoy your company.”

  Rebecca arranged her dark hair in a stylish coiffure and then secured it with a comb made of mother-of-pearl. She pinched each cheek twice and then stepped back from the mirror. Dark smudges stained the skin beneath her eyes, telling of sleepless nights.

  Her mind wandered to Douloo and to Daniel. She could see him sitting atop his stallion with his hat down in front to shade his eyes. Her heart ached at the thought of him.

  She moved to the window and gazed out on a white world. Snow had started falling that morning. However, the tranquillity Rebecca usually felt at the first snowfall was absent. Taking a deep breath, she gladly allowed her mind to return to the heated Queensland flatlands, with their grazing cattle and sheep, and the silence found in an empty meadow.

  The doorbell chimed, dragging Rebecca back to Boston. With a sigh, she returned to the mirror. She didn’t feel up to company. Why had Mildred invited dinner guests just now? She smoothed the collar of her heavy satin gown. If only Boston society allowed more practical dresses like the ones she’d grown accustomed to in Queensland. This gown was bulky and too tight at the waist.

  “Being sensible is not a Boston attribute,” she told her reflection.

  Images of primping women and pompous, cigar-smoking men sprang to Rebecca’s mind. She’d been in Boston only a few days, but already she’d had her fill. She’d forgotten how much she detested the pretentious behavior of many of Boston’s upper class. Australia had its elite groups, but they didn’t seem quite so ostentatious.

  Rebecca gathered up her heavy skirts and hurried to Callie’s room just down the hall. She’d insisted Callie sleep in one of the guest rooms rather than staying in the servants’ quarters. Thomas and Mildred were agreeable but had expressed concern over the staff’s possible negative reaction. As it turned out, they were right to be uneasy. Some of the servants had been miffed over a black Australian receiving preferential treatment.

  I don’t care what any of them think, Rebecca thought as she knocked on Callie’s door.

  “Who is it?” Callie asked from inside.

  “Rebecca. May I come in?”

  The door opened. “G’day, mum.”

  Rebecca looked at Callie, who was still dressed in her day clothes. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “I am dressed.”

  “No. I mean why aren’t you dressed for the dinner party?”

  “Not goin’,” Callie said, moving to her bed and sitting down.

  “Why? Are you ill?”

  “No.” Callie glanced at the window, then looked at Rebecca. “I don’t belong, mum. Ya know that. Servants don’t eat with family and never with guests.”

  “You’re my friend, and I’ve invited you.”

  “Yais, and I thank ya for bein’ kind, but it’s not roight. And I can’t do it.”

  Rebecca moved to the armoire and pulled out a cream-colored gown. “I had this cleaned and repaired just for you. It’s one of my older gowns, but it’s quite nice.” She held it up against Callie. “It will look lovely on you. Please put it on and join us.”

  “Are ya tellin’ me to, mum?”

  “No. I won’t order you about, but I’d truly enjoy your company. And I believe it’s time some of the formalities in Boston were challenged.” Rebecca handed Callie the gown.

  Callie pressed it against her and looked down at its flowing skirt. “It’s a grand dress. Roight pretty. But I don’t want ta be changin’ anything ’ere in Boston. This place doesn’t mean anything ta me. I’ll be glad ta go home ta Douloo.”

  “Me too. But right now we’re here, and I thought you might like to be part of the family.”

  “But I’m not, mum. I know ya mean well, but yer helpin’ is makin’ things harder.”

  “How?”

  “The cook and one of the housemaids is mad. I ought ta be sleepin’ in the servants’ quarters, not in this elegant room.”

  Rebecca moved to a straight-backed chair and sat. “I understand, but I want better for you.”

  “Mum, back at Douloo I live in me little cabin, and that’s fine by me. And ya don’t mind either.”

  Rebecca was taken aback. She stared at Callie. She was right. She’d never given Callie’s position a thought. “You’re right. I haven’t minded. I’m sorry. I’ve been insensitive, and I’d like to make it up to you. Things will be different when we get home.”

  “I don’t want them no different, mum. Things were roight fine.”

  “All right, then. But I’ll do my best to be more considerate.”

  “Fine, mum. But I like ya just as ya are.” Callie smiled.

  Rebecca met Callie’s gaze. “I like you too. Would you mind joining us for dinner? I understand if you don’t want to, and I won’t be hurt if you choose not to. Perhaps you could come down for just a few minutes. I’d hoped the reverend and you might become acquainted. He’s a fine man, and Thomas said his friends were thrilled at having an opportunity to learn more about Australia from a real Australian.” Rebecca could see Callie’s resolve falter. “Please, would you join us? I met Mr. White, and he seems quite nice.” She smiled. “You might actually enjoy yourself.”

  With a sigh, Callie said, “All roight. But I’ll need help. This dress is stiff and heavy. Don’t know why ya wear such things.” She looked down at her bare feet and then at a pair of shoes sitting beside the bed. “And the shoes ya gave me hurt. I don’t know how ya manage.”

  Rebecca grinned. “I must admit there are times I’ve longed for the freedom you have.”

  “Yais, well since I left home, me feet ’ave ’ad little freedom.”

  Rebecca smiled. “I’m sorry, Callie. But here if you don’t wear shoes your feet will freeze.”

  “Roight. Not used ta that.” Her expression turned whimsical. “Been thinkin’ ’bout Douloo. Do ya think we ought ta go back?”

  “I wish we could, but I’d be going against Daniel’s wishes. And I don’t want the children in danger.” Rebecca touched a strand of pearls about her neck, running a finger over the smooth orbs. “You miss it badly, don’t you?”

  “Yais. This is no place for me. And I got friends at Douloo.”

  “You mean Koora?”

  A blush showed on Callie’s dark face. “Others too.”

  “But it’s Koora you think about mostly, right?”

  “Yais, but no more than ya miss Daniel.”

  A pang of loneliness swelled beneath Rebecca’s breast. Now was not the time to think about him and home.

  Standing, she said matter-of-factly, “We’ll have to talk about that another time. Ri
ght now we need to get you ready for Thomas and Mildred’s party.”

  It was a small dinner party. Mildred had invited only three guests—Rev. Dalton Jones and Thomas’s friend Bradley White and his wife, Heloise.

  After checking on Audry, who slept in an upstairs bedroom, Rebecca moved down the hallway, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the upcoming dinner. She would have preferred spending the evening alone in her room, but she couldn’t lock herself away until it was time to return to Douloo.

  She walked down the staircase, which led from the upper floor of Thomas and Mildred’s modest home. Callie followed close behind.

  In comparison to the open, bright living space of Douloo, this house felt almost tomblike in the winter darkness. No matter how many lanterns were lit, gloominess seemed to win out over the light, and cold penetrated every room in spite of well-tended fireplaces.

  Mildred met Rebecca and Callie at the bottom of the staircase. A flicker of surprise lit her face when she saw Callie dressed for dinner. “You look lovely,” she told Rebecca, kissing her cheek. “And you, Callie . . . that dress makes you look quite beautiful.”

  “Never seen meself that way.”

  Mildred rested a hand on Callie’s arm. “I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

  Joseph, who stood beside Mildred, gazed up at Callie. “You look grand!”

  Callie smiled. “Ya think so, eh?”

  “Yep.”

  Mildred led the way into the parlor, where Thomas and the guests waited. Joseph walked between his mother and Callie, holding their hands.

  Rev. Jones pushed out of his chair, smiling warmly. “Good evening, Rebecca. How wonderful to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you, Reverend,” Rebecca said. She meant it too. She’d always liked the reverend.

  A rotund gentleman sat on the divan beside a plump woman who looked as if she’d squeezed into her velvet gown. Bradley White stood. His wife, Heloise, remained seated.

  “Callie, I’d like to introduce Rev. Jones,” Mildred said.

  The short, slight man smiled. “A pleasure.”