Joshua walked toward Walter, and a few other guests stepped in front to hold Joshua back as Walter slunk out.
His heart was pounding. His mother, confused, kept demanding questions from him, and all he could think to do was protect Cora. It was over. All of it. He lost everything.
Joshua turned around toward his table, only to stop in his tracks. He looked amongst the room, which was now in chaos of people muttering, not knowing what to make of the scene.
“Cora?” he called. She was gone.
The Lil’ Miss was making her way back east, and stopping once again for Cora. This time, though, she seemed less a fantastical vision of adventure and freedom, and more like the old hunk of metal that she was.
“Just one ticket,” Cora received the stub through the window at the station.
Mr. Stanfield’s brow furrowed upon seeing the face at the booth, his gray eyes glinting underneath his spectacles.
“Miss Cora…”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stanfield,” Cora’s eyes glistened, but she held back tears. “It didn’t work out…”
Mr. Stanfield sighed.
“I’m awfully sad to hear that, Miss Cora. I thought for sure that you were the one.”
“The one?” Cora perked up curiously.
“Oh, yes’m,” Mr. Stanfield said. “I’ve known Joshua Dansby for a long time, since he was a wiry young boy. Knew his grandfather very well, God rest his soul.”
He sighed and came out from the door of the station house to meet face to face with Cora.
“Joshua was always driven. Probably the sense of responsibility he took when his father passed, and he was left to tend to everything. But you know, as good lookin’ as he was, there was never a gal that could love him.”
Cora laughed amidst the emotions swelling.
“He’s really difficult.”
Mr. Stanfield let out a chuckle.
“He is. But I think it’s more than that. Part of it is, I think, he never knew how to love himself. He always had a higher expectation for himself that he never placed on anyone else...and it drove him to loneliness.”
He sighed and looked at his feet.
“I saw how he looked at you that first day, when he realized you were the one he was supposed to meet…”
“With disappointment?” Cora pursed her lips.
“With hope.”
“I just made things more complicated,” she looked away.
The train’s engine began to whir.
Mr. Stanfield tipped his hat.
“It’s time.”
Cora nodded, and gestured to the side of the platform.
“Make sure that Kan gets back to Joshua. And--and tell him--”She pursed her lips. “Tell him I said goodbye.”
Mr. Stanfield nodded and turned toward the train, shouting “All aboard the Lil’ Miss, leaving the station in five minutes!”
Cora let out a deep breath as she turned around, once again facing the great, steam locomotive. The black body glinted in the sun, though an Autumn chill rippled through. Sounds of people boarding and clicking their feet, pulling their luggage across the wooden boardwalk rang in her ears.
“Isn’t this where I began?” Cora said to herself.
“But it doesn’t have to end like this.”
Cora turned at the voice.“Joshua!”
He breathed heavily, and removed his hat, his dark hair tousled, some strands lifting in the breeze. His blue eyes were deep and hallowed, and Cora’s chest swelled with emotion.
She didn’t need this. Not at her getaway.
“You’ve lost everything,” she said. “Walter Howell’s exposed our secret, your family knows I’m a penniless orphan girl, and you have absolutely nothing left.”
Joshua brought his hand to Cora’s cheek, and she closed her eyes, her heart feeling as if it needed to burst, feeling the warmth of him near her.
“I still have one thing left…” he brought his forehead to rest on hers.
“Please, don’t…” Cora muttered through tears. “You’re making it more difficult than it has to be.”
“I’ve had plenty of practice with a difficult woman,” he laughed.
Joshua brought his hand to the chin of the brown-eyed woman in front of him, leaning her face to look at his. He nearly missed her. He was out of breathe. He was out of words. And yet, in this moment, all he could think about was how much he wanted her.
“You are impossible, stubborn, obnoxious, and in fact one of the most annoying women I have ever met,” Joshua laughed. “But,” he wiped his thumb across her cheek, swiping away a tear. “You’re imaginative, and resourceful, you’re smarter than you think you are, and braver than anyone I know. And my goodness,” he cupped her face with both of his strong hands. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
He brought her into an embrace, enveloping himself around her small frame, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair, feeling her heartbeat against his.
“I don’t care about the land, or the inheritance. I don’t care what people think, Cora.” He squeezed her tight. “I want you. I want you and all of you--even the annoying, impossible parts. I love you, Cora Sutton. I love you.”
Cora’s heart swelled with emotion. She felt weak, as if she could just fall to the ground right then and there, but around her, Joshua Dansby held on. And he held on tight, his strong arms wrapped around her, as if she could forever be safe. And it wasn’t a fairytale. It was her life.
“I love you, too” she spoke into his broad chest. “But,” she pushed away and looked up at him, his blue eyes glistening. “I’m not Cora Sutton,” she said. “I’m Cora Dansby.”
He smiled, and leading her chin close to his, their lips met, and in a moment, both were suspended in time, as if nothing moved around them. When it ended, for a brief moment, his heart danced at the way the loose strands of her hair flitted in the breeze. He brushed his hand against her cheek once more, and smiled.
“Mrs. Cora Dansby,” he said. “Be my wife.”
And she was.
An Italian in the West (by Mary Miller)
Cosa faròora?
Angelica’s mind was whirling. Her thoughts were dark and heavy as she repeated the Italian phrase over and over in her mind. Cosa faròora? Cosa faròora? What do I do now?
Her father’s death had caused a complete upheaval in her life. He was all she had in this world, especially in this foreign land that she wasn’t used to and didn’t understand all of the time. She was only now learning to speak the language.
How could this tragic event have occurred so soon after their arrival in America? And now what would she do? She buried her face in her hands, soaking her gloves with her tears. They arrived originally in New York but had only stayed there for a short time. Her father had not like the climate there, so they migrated south to the rolling hills of Virginia. It had only been a few months since then. She had just started learning English these last few weeks and had been training almost daily with Lilly, her only friend in this small town. Lilly was a fiery, red-headed girl from Ireland with a quick wit and a sharp brain. She’d had no trouble learning to speak like Americans do and seemed to fit right in. Lilly had taken a quick liking to Angelica, and they were always together as a result.
Angelica wasn’t having an easy time of it, though. Her Italian accent was strong, and she moved from speaking English to Italian in the same sentence, disrupting her speech pattern and only allowing half of her sentence to be understood.
To make matters worse, Lilly had never stopped informing Angelica of her outstanding beauty. She never failed to mention when a young man was eyeing Angelica, not realizing that her friend didn’t want the attention. Lilly was jealous that Angelica got the kind of attention she did, but she refrained from being rude about it. She was playful when she mentioned the looks her Italian friend always got.
“I wish I was as beautiful as you are, Angel.” Lilly was fond of saying. “I would already be happily married with c
hildren.”
“You are abambina, too young for such,” Angelica replied.
“You’re never too young for the attention of men. And I wouldn’t say that twenty is too young. In fact, far from it.” Lilly would sigh and pat her wavy red hair, fluttering her eyelashes at the same time. Her green eyes always flashed with energy and she had a ready smile on her face. Angelica thought she was the beautiful one and would tell her so. Lilly just laughed at that.
“Truly, you are bellissimo, Lilly, amicamia.” She would say.
“English,” Lilly would respond. “You need to speak in English!” Then she would laugh and retrain Angelica how to say “my friend” instead of amicamia. Lilly didn’t really mind that Angelica mixed her words up. She was relieved to be able to use some of the knowledge her grandmother’s husband had bestowed on her, bless his soul. She crossed herself in remembrance of him every time she thought of him, a habit she’d picked up from her Irish-Catholic mother.
When Angelica felt small hands wrap around her shoulders, she knew it was Lilly. She instinctively pushed herself against her friend, her tears nonstop. “Cosa faròora? Mio padre è morto. Sonosola. Sonosola…”
“Ssshhh.” Lilly consoled her hugging her tightly. “You aren’t alone. I’m here. I will help you. We will figure out what to do. I’m so sorry, Angelica.I’m so sorry.Shh.”
Angelica moaned loudly, lowering herself further, her head nearly on the back of the pew in front of her. Lilly put her hand on her friend’s head and pulled her over so that she was holding her against her chest. She began to rock forward and back, gripping her friend as warmly as she could.
Angelica was comforted when Lilly began to sing softly to her a sweet tune she had never heard before but sounded like the brush of angel’s wings on her hurting soul.
“Now come is my departing time,
And here I may no longer stay,
There is no kind comrade of mine
But will desire I were away.
But if that time will me permit,
Which from your Company doth call,
And meinforceth for to flit,
Good Night, and God be with you all.”(Neighbours farewell to his friends)
Later that night, Angelica was sleeping fitfully in Lilly’s bed, and she watched her friend tossing and turning with worried eyes. Angelica was right to be concerned. She really did not have anyone other than her father, and they had not owned any property. Mr. DiAntonio had just been getting his business started, dealing with the businessmen in town, discussing whatever their business was. He had no trouble integrating himself into society. He had learned English before he migrated to the country. He hadn’t expected to bring Angelica along, which was why she was so lost with the language. He had essentially been forced to bring her after the death of both his wife and his other three daughters in a fire that destroyed their home and much of their property.
The loss of her mother and sisters had taken Angelica to new depths of pain. Lilly met her, and Mr. DiAntonio is New York and traveled south with them because she enjoyed their company and teaching Angelica about American life.
Now, with the death of her dear father in yet another tragic accident, Angelica was left in a foreign land, alone and terribly frightened.
It was a good thing Lilly had traveled with them. She glanced through the window at the bright moon outside and prayed her thanks. You must have sent me down here with them, Lord. She thought. Because I don’t know where she would be now. She already felt alone. Now she really is.
But she knew that Angelica wasn’t really alone. She was there for her. And she had God on her side. Lilly would just have to ensure that Angelica’s life was not wasted.
Lord, give me strength. She prayed silently. I don’t know what You want to do with this child of yours, but I’ll try to do it Your way.
Lilly stayed with her that night and made sure both she and Angelica made it to the hotel, where they both worked in housekeeping. She still hadn’t come up with a solution to the problem. She had to think about her own future, too, and it didn’t include being a companion for the rest of her life. Not to a woman, anyway. She was anxious to find a man and get married. She wanted a family and children.
But she wasn’t about to abandon Angelica.
They worked in a hotel that was more like a boarding house and it was owned by a tiny little old woman named Bess. She ran the place with a tiny iron fist, and no one made trouble for her. She demanded the best character from her tenants and her staff. She was also very compassionate when it came to young women alone in the world.
When Bess heard that Angelica had lost her father, she went to find her.
“Lilly, Angelica, what are you doing here?” She said as soon as she entered the room they were cleaning. She had come to expect them to work together because Lilly was often an interpreter for Angelica as she learned English.
“Ms. Bessie, we are here to work,” Lilly answered.
Bess shook her head vehemently, approaching Angelica and looking up at her with a frown. “You just lost your father, and you are here working. No. You must go home and take some time to yourself to mourn!”
“Ms. Bess, I can’t…”
“We need to work, Ms. Bessie, we need the money,” Lilly said for Angelica.
Bess didn’t look at Lilly, just continued to gaze up at Angelica, who was at least 6 inches taller at 5’5. Her face melted incompassion, and she tilted her head. When she spoke, the tone of her voice had softened considerably.
“Angelica, go home. Take Lilly with you. I will give you a week of pay, and you just stay home and do what you need to do.”
“Oh, miss!” Angelica understood the words and could barely process them in her grief. Lilly was at her side immediately, thanking Bess over and over.
Bess said nothing more, just nodded, shooing them out the door. Angelica was crying softly, with Lilly guiding her by the shoulders.
Instead of going home, Lilly and Angelica walked to a small park on the corner of the street they worked on. They sat on a bench and held hands.
“We will figure out something to do with ourselves, Angelica. There must be something we can do with our lives. We can’t be housekeepers forever. We need husbands and families.”
Angelica just nodded, still quietly crying, her tears streaming down her face uncontrolled.
“Mio padre. Mio padre.” She kept shaking her head.
Lilly didn’t scold her for her grief. She let her friend cry and moan for her father. She stared out at the park around her, watching two mothers with very small babies settle a blanket on the ground for a picnic under a tree. She could hear them giggling and talking about their husbands and other children.
It made Lilly’s heart grow jealous. She looked at Angelica, whose beauty showed bright even in her grief. Her features were like the perfect doll’s, her dark brown hair braided down her back with ringlets surrounding her face, her eyes a deep blueish brown. She was so beautiful.
She herself was not bad to look at. But where were the men in their lives to give them to fulfillment these ladies had? They seemed so happy, on top of the world. There was probably nothing wrong in their lives at all. They had everything they wanted.
Lilly frowned. She didn’t want to be jealous of what other people had. It was a sin. It was one of the Ten Commandments not to covet what other people had.
But she did anyway. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to be married and have a family.
We could travel. She thought suddenly and wondered if it would be a possibility. There were no immediate chances of either of them getting married in the near future, not that she could see. There were no men in their lives at this time.
However, if they were to travel, there would be less chance to establish some kind of relationship with a man and settle down.
Her confusion made her even angrier. She didn’t realize she was gripping Angelica’s hand so tightly until her friend began to pull them away.
“Lilly, you’re hurting me,” Angelica mumbled.
Lilly released her hands, apologizing. “I’m so sorry, dear. I was just thinking.”
“Si, I could tell.”
Lilly’s ears were drawn to the conversation the women were having, and she pretended she was straightening her skirt while she listened.
“She went all the way to Nevada. And Joe says there’s another one in the newspaper today.”
“What would make a woman want to do that?”
“Joe says there are a lot more women here than there are there. So the chances of finding a husband here are a lot less.”
“I’m glad I’ve got Mark. I wouldn’t want to travel all the way across the country just to find a husband.”
“I think we got lucky. The way Joe says it, there’s so many people migrating from the other countries and just placing themselves here and in North Carolina and New York, there’s just too many of them.”
“I don’t mind that. My parents came from Britain. I think it’s beautiful here. I’m glad people are coming here for a new life.”
“I know. I don’t really mind either. But Joe says that’s why people need to go across the country so that there will be a good mix everywhere. Right now, it’s as if everyone is living here in the East and only men are in the West.”
“Only men? That’s not possible.”
“I don’t mean it quite like that. Not literally. There’s just many more of them than women there.”
“So men advertise for them to come to the West and marry them?” The woman shook her head. “I don’t think I could do it.”
“There are plenty who will.”
There certainly is. Lilly thought.
*****
Adam sat in the pew listening to Reverend Stoop. The sermon was about salvation and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross. Adam had heard a very similar sermon recently, here in this same church, from the same pastor.
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