by Vivi Holt
I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Holly Bristol
Holly folded the letter, put it in an envelope and addressed it in her smooth, sloping handwriting, then sealed it shut. Describing oneself in a few brief paragraphs was more difficult than she’d thought. How does one sum up one’s life, one’s very self, in so few words?
On her way out the door, she stuck her head into the parlor and found Eve doing needlepoint before the fire, James sat beside her putting a puzzle together on the coffee table. “I’m just going to mail this letter – I’ll be back shortly. Do you mind watching the children?” she asked.
Eve smiled, and Holly caught a glimpse of the beautiful woman her sister had once been. Carrying a child had worn her out, and she no longer wore the blush of youth that had drawn beaus to her side from near and far. “That’s fine, my dear.”
Holly nodded and hurried to fetch her hat and coat. She’d rather mail the letter now, lest she lose her nerve. It was best she didn’t think too much about it. She had a habit of talking herself out of things if she dwelled on them too long.
Three weeks later …
Holly heard Rodney grumbling through the bedroom walls. Her room was only a few doors down from Rodney and Eve’s, and his deep baritone carried. She couldn’t hear what he said, but she could guess.
He’d caught Tripp smoking his pipe outdoors when he returned home early from work. He’d boxed Tripp’s ears, then yelled at them all for a good hour before supper. Holly and the children chose to eat in her room to stay out of his way, and after supper she’d put them to bed. That seemed to mollify Rodney, but she still avoided him on the way back to her room from the children’s.
She understood his anger – she was angry with Tripp herself. Even at ten years old, he knew better. But he’d lost his father not so long ago, and his behavior had suffered ever since. At bedtime, in bed with his covers pulled up to his chin, he looked so young that her frown had melted away. She’d stroked his hair from his face as he apologized, tearfully explaining that the smoke reminded him of Pa. Her heart broke at his words, and she’d cried into her pillow the rest of the evening.
A tap on the door made her sit up straight in bed. She hurried to the looking glass and wiped her reddened eyes, but it was no use – her face was blotchy and her eyes puffy and swollen. Whoever was at the door would see she’d been weeping. She smoothed her hair back, composed her features and pulled the door open.
It was Cecilia the cook. “Miss Holly, this came for ye earlier. I thought ye might like to have it.” She put a letter in Holly’s hand.
Holly glanced down at it in surprise. Who would be writing to her? “Thank you, Cecelia.”
Cecelia patted her arm, a look of compassion on her lined face. “He’ll stew fer a bit, but everythin’ll look better in the mornin’, Mrs. Bristol. Mark me words.” She smiled, showing the gap between her bottom teeth where she’d lost one.
Holly swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes. Thank you again.”
Cecelia waddled off, her ample hips swaying, and Holly watched her leave before pulling the door shut. She raised the letter to the light of the lantern she’d lit beside the bed, but didn’t recognize the handwriting. Finally she turned it over. It was from Kurt Sawyer of Wichita, Kansas.
Her hand shook as she slit the letter open with a fingernail. She sat on the bed and smoothed her skirts before pulling the single sheet of paper out of the envelope. Something smaller fell out onto her lap. She picked it up –a train ticket from New York to Wichita!
Her eyes widened. Had he already made up his mind about her, even knowing nothing about her save her short note? She moved closer to the lantern and read:
Dear Mrs. Bristol:
I was glad to receive your letter. I am the son of William and Gladys Sawyer of Mount Vernon, New York – perhaps you know them?
My brother Angus and I moved to Wichita to start a new life of limitless opportunity. We are both doing well in our endeavors. Angus is married with a family. I hope you will consent to join me shortly and begin our own family together. I have prayed for a wife, and hope you will be as happy with matrimony as I’m sure I will be.
I have enclosed a train ticket for you, and hope you will use it as soon as possible. I am anxious to meet you. Send word of when you will arrive and I will meet you at the station.
Yours sincerely,
Kurt Sawyer
She folded the letter and set it on the bedside table. What now? He’d written nothing about his business, his home or himself. She knew no more about him than she had before, other than that he was related to the Sawyers of Mount Vernon. She vaguely recalled an elderly couple called William and Gladys from her volunteer days at the New York Society for Improving the Conditions of the Poor – they’d struck her as being good people, but she didn’t recall ever having met any of their children.
She frowned and lay back on the bed. How could he make up his mind about her so swiftly, so determinedly? She wasn’t sure she could do the same, though what other option did she have?
Then another thought struck: he’d only sent one ticket. And she needed six!
“The letter is well written – he’s obviously an educated man. And we know his family, or at least know of them.” Eve folded the picnic rug over her arm and straightened the wrinkles in the fabric with gloved fingers.
Holly nodded. Still, it felt as though she would be traveling to the middle of nowhere to meet a man she knew nothing about. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind one ear. “Though it isn’t much.” She sighed and leaned over to brush leaves from the hem of her skirt.
The children were investigating a nearby ant’s nest, long sticks in hand with which to safely poke the colony. The ants, hidden beneath the ground in preparation for the coming winter, hurried out of their hole in confusion, rushing in every direction. Holly watched from a distance, her brow furrowed. “Children, be careful, please.”
“We could arrange to meet with his parents, see what they have to say and get to know them before you make your decision.”
Holly picked up the picnic basket from the leaf-covered ground by her feet. “That’s a good idea. But he seems to want me to come as quickly as possible, so we’d have to do it soon.”
“I’ll ask Rodney if we can use the buggy tomorrow and we’ll pay them a call.” Eve smiled and her nose crinkled. Holly loved it when her sister’s nose crinkled that way – it reminded her of their childhood. Eve had been a bright spot in the darkness of those hungry, savage days.
She grinned at Eve and looped her free arm through hers, swinging the picnic basket in her other hand. “He only sent one ticket, though …”
“I’ll buy the children’s tickets with my own money. Don’t fret about it.” Eve smiled and squeezed Holly’s arm.
“Thank you, my dear sister. You know, I have a good feeling about this. It’s all going to work out.”
“Yes, it will.” Then Eve’s smile faded. “Though if it does, we won’t see each other … for a long time. Perhaps forever.” Her gaze dropped to the ground, her chin trembling.
Holly’s heart plummeted. She’d considered that, but had pushed the thought aside. It didn’t do to dwell on future hardships, especially considering that there were plenty of present ones. “We’ll just have to make sure we see each other again. I’m sure Rodney won’t mind you visiting. I can’t speak for my future husband, given I know nothing about him, but the chances of us paying a call to New York seem higher since his parents live here, don’t you think?”
Eve’s face brightened. “Yes, that’s true.”
Holly stopped and turned to face her sister, her heart full of fear. “Oh Eve, my dear, what do you truly think? Should I travel all the way to Wichita to marry this man I’ve never met?”
Eve’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “I can’t tell you what you should do, other than trust in God. What else is there?”
The buggy headed down
the busy street, stopping outside a tall Federalist-style house with a high wrought-iron fence. Rain pummeled the roof of the buggy, and Holly and Eve pressed back against their seats to avoid the drops. “Fred, will you go and knock on the door, please?” asked Eve, rapping her walking cane on the wall of the buggy.
The driver grumbled and hurried through the gate and up the wide stairs to the front door. He tugged his collar up higher around his neck and knocked on the door. When it opened, he exchanged words with someone inside, then ran back to the buggy and poked his head in, rain dripping from his hat. “Miss Eve, the maid says they ain’t home and won’t be for some months. They’re travelin’.”
“Thank you, Fred. Let’s head home.”
Holly’s stomach clenched. She’d dreaded meeting Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer. How could she possibly explain to them that she was considering taking her children to Kansas to marry their son, whom she’d never met? And now she couldn’t even do that. Could she marry their son? She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back on the seat as the buggy lurched down the drenched street toward home.
How she longed to go back in time, back to when Charles was alive and they had a home of their own and everything was wonderful. But it was no use wishing – everything had changed. It would never be the same again.
Holly laid the last of her gowns in the trunk, pushed the lid closed and leaned on it, pressing it down as tightly as she could before she snapped the lock shut. “One never realizes just how many things one owns until one has to pack them all into trunks,” she mused to herself.
“Excuse me?” asked Eve, peering through the bedroom door.
“Nothing, just talking to myself.” Holly laughed and sat down on the trunk with a sigh.
“That’s the last of it?”
“Yes, that’s everything. I left a few things in the children’s room for you to donate to the needy, since we couldn’t carry it all.”
Eve nodded. Her face was grim, her eyes rimmed with red.
Holly felt a pang in her chest. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll be fine, Eve dear. Don’t fret so much about us. It’s an adventure. ‘Life is full of adventures’ – don’t you remember that’s what Pa used to say? He never said much of worth, but that stuck in my head.”
Eve nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I remember. It’s just that … all my life, you’ve been all I had. You raised me when Ma and Pa couldn’t or wouldn’t. You introduced me to Rodney and taught me how to behave in society. You stood up for me when anyone criticized or looked down on me. And when James was born, you helped me cope with … well, everything. I wanted to be there for you when you needed it …”
Holly rushed to her sister’s side and threw her arms around Eve’s thin shoulders. “And you were. When Charles died, I didn’t think I’d make it through, but you helped me, gave me and my children a place to live. I’ll be forever grateful.”
Eve wiped the tears from her eyes, then stamped her foot on the hardwood floor. “I’m so mad at Rodney – I can’t believe he’d throw you out this way! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”
Holly shook her head, tucked a strand of Eve’s dark hair behind her ear and met her gaze. “Please don’t be angry with him. He was kind to take us in, but it isn’t fair to him or any of you for us to stay here indefinitely. There are six of us, and we’re noisy and passionate and difficult at times – he held up under it as long as he could, but he needs his peace and quiet, you know that. It’s only right that you focus on your family. I don’t hold it against him – I just want you all to be happy.” She stroked Eve’s cheek, wiping her tears away.
“And I want you to be happy, my dear big sister. Who knows, perhaps you’ll even find love.”
Holly laughed. “Love? I don’t imagine I will, but I can still do what’s best for the children. If marrying Kurt Sawyer puts a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, I’ll do it and gladly.”
Eve sighed and her brow furrowed. “But what about you? What about your heart? If you close yourself off that way, you’ll never find happiness.”
“I’ve stopped concerning myself with happiness, dear sister. I had it once and that’s enough. Now come, let’s find the children. I heard the cab pull up outside and the train is due shortly. It’s time we were on our way.”
Eve burst into fresh tears. “But we haven’t had enough time to say goodbye.”
Holly chuckled. “There never is enough time. And anyway, I hate long goodbyes –”
A rap at the door startled them. Cecelia poked her head in. “Is yer trunk ready, Mrs. Bristol?”
“Yes, it’s ready. Thank you, Cecelia.”
Cecelia nodded at someone beyond the doorway and two boys appeared, caps pulled low over their eyes. They tipped them to the ladies, picked up the trunks and carried them out the door and down the stairs.
Holly watched them go. Well, that was that. It was time to say goodbye to New York, this house and Eve, perhaps forever. She took a long slow breath, grinned gamely at her sister and headed downstairs.
She called the children, expecting to hear the thunder of boots on the ceiling. Instead, she found them all standing in a circle in the entry, the boys with hats in hand, the girls with their bonnets hanging on strings down their backs, all with long faces. “Come now, children – it’s time to say goodbye.” She tried to sound cheerful and lively, but it came out strangled.
One by one, the children embraced Eve and James and told them goodbye. Even Cecelia was crying when it came her turn. Rodney had given her a nervous farewell before he left for work that morning, which Holly had appreciated. He wasn’t a bad man, just not a man who could deal with noise or disorder. Thinking about it, she held back tears.
By the time they were all packed into the cab like beans in a can, her eyes were swollen and her chest ached from suppressed sobs. She blew her nose, then leaned out the window to wave goodbye as the cab pulled away from the curb in a flurry of hooves, flicking mud and cracking whips. Eve and James looked so small standing in front of the gate. James’ arm was threaded through his mother’s and both had faces as pale as milk. They waved goodbye and Eve hid her mouth with her hand.
Holly’s stomach turned, the bitter taste of bile in her mouth. Beside her, Sarah squeezed her hand, her eyes watching her mother closely. “It’s going to be fine, Ma,” she whispered, her large brown eyes wide. “Please don’t be sad. We’ll see Aunt Eve and James again.”
Holly forced a smile but couldn’t answer. She kissed Sarah’s forehead, then held her close as the cab bumped and weaved through the streets of New York, headed for the train station. The other children drew close too, faces drawn, as they sat in silence.
4
Kurt Sawyer held the letter from Holly, re-reading the words as he broke into a cold sweat. She had children. Five children.
She wrote it so casually. He hadn’t thought of ‘what if she had children?’ when he’d agreed to let his brother advertise for a bride for him. He was twenty-five and had assumed his bride would be younger, never married – and childless. Why hadn’t he considered the possibility she might be none of those?
He rubbed his mouth and frowned. There was nothing to be done about it – she was not only on her way, but due to arrive in Wichita within the next hour. He was at the saloon across the street, waiting for the train to pull in. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he reckoned this particular situation called for it.
Five children. Heaven help him. And why hadn’t he thought to ask her age?
He took a gulp of beer, spilling a little down the front of his best black waistcoat. He dabbed at it with one hand, then sighed loudly. Well, there was nothing for it but to marry the woman. She’d come all this way to do just that. He supposed he could send her back if it came down to it, but doubted he could bring himself to. He swallowed another mouthful and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
This was all Angus’s fault – he’d suggested the idea and written the advertisem
ent for the newspaper. Kurt hadn’t even seen it – he’d been too busy planting his crop, with one arm that still pained him. He should’ve included something about existing children. But it was too late now …
The hoot of a whistle in the distance made him choke on the next swallow of beer. A man walking by slapped him hard on the back, and he coughed it up on the bar. “Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head as the scowling bartender took a towel from his shoulder to wipe the bar dry.
He stood and cleared his throat. The tie he’d donned that morning squeezed his neck, and he stuck a finger beneath it and tugged to loosen it – he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He slapped his hat onto his head and strode out the door. It was time to meet the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with. And her five offspring.
Holly stared out the window. The train rushed toward a small, lively town perched in the middle of a great plain on the banks of a wide brown river that crawled downstream carrying riverboats of all shapes and sizes with it.
“Is this where we get off?” asked Edward with wide eyes.
“Yes, my darlings, this is it. Gather your things, please.”
The train slowed, brakes screeching on the steel tracks and whistle sounding. The children all jumped, and Eleanor climbed into Holly’s lap and buried her face in her mother’s bodice. “It’s just a whistle – nothing to be afraid of.” Holly assured her, patting her back before she reached for her own straw hat and reticule.
She pinned her hat in place as the train shuddered and jolted, finally coming to a stop beside a raw timber platform. She stood, being careful to deposit Eleanor on her feet.
“Ma, are we going to get a pony?” asked Heather, her blue eyes wide. At seven, a pony would make everything bearable in her eyes. She fidgeted with her long blonde plait where it hung over her thin shoulder.