by Gina Welborn
Lord God, help Hazel be brave.
Time passed.
Bellows of high-pitched, girlish laughter came from the parlor. Colette looked that way. It must be humorous because Mrs. Gaines was laughing, too. Instead of going to the parlor to find out what was so funny, Colette resumed reading her book. Now was a moment for prudence and duty. Socializing had to wait, because she was going to do the sensible thing and stay here to greet Hazel and show her that she had nothing to fear.
Colette turned the page. As she neared the bottom of the page, she felt a slight bump of the train. She looked up in anticipation. A petite blonde with frizzy hair hesitantly climbed the steps to the observation deck; she clutched a linen-wrapped bundle to her chest. She couldn’t be more than thirteen, if that. To think a girl that young had been forced into prostitution…
The girl opened the door and stepped inside the observation room.
Colette stood. “Hello. You must be Hazel.”
The girl nodded.
Colette smiled. “Welcome to the train. I’m Miss Letty Pool. You can call me Letty.”
“Where’s Ada?” Hazel asked in a soft-spoken voice.
“In the parlor—”
Hazel hurried off before Colette could finish saying, “with Victoria.”
Colette looked at the wall clock. With the three rescued girls on the train, all they needed now was their escort. She stepped out onto the observation deck and looked around again in hopes of spying her partner for this trip. Other than a man reading a newspaper on a bench in front of the Homestead Hotel, the twenty or so people in the depot were walking around; all seemed apathetic to the executive charter at the end of the train.
Clearly if anyone had seen three wayward girls climbing aboard, no one cared. Was that a good thing? Or a sad thing? Colette sighed. When she traveled, she was too focused on taking in the views and getting where she was to go next. In light of the small potential for danger here in Billings, she had to see everyone’s self-focused-ness as a good thing.
What was taking the escort so long to arrive?
Colette snorted a laugh. For all the times she was tardy for things, she probably deserved being made to wait. Oh well. It would all work out.
After one more look around for the escort, she headed back inside to inform the girls of the rules. She reached the parlor just as Mrs. Gaines was refilling the lemonade goblets. Ada, Victoria, and Hazel all seemed happy, despite Hazel’s solemnity.
“Girls,” Colette said, drawing their attention. “While we wait for my partner on this trip to arrive, I want you to know how honored I am to be chaperoning you to your new school. In addition to new sets of toiletries, I’ve purchased books for you to read and take with you.”
Ada and Victoria looked longingly at the credenza next to their end of the table, books stacked on the credenza’s top.
“We can have any book we want?” Ada asked, her eyes wide.
“Any and all,” Colette answered. “But wait to choose until after we discuss the rules. Oh, and, Ada, be sure to let Victoria and Hazel choose some, too.”
“Hazel won’t want any,” Victoria said.
Hazel took that moment to eat another beignet.
Colette looked to Mrs. Gaines. “Would you bring me a cup of coffee?”
Mrs. Gaines nodded and returned to the kitchen.
Colette stepped to the empty chair next to Ada. “Rule number one: Keep identities secret. Just as you don’t know the names of the benefactor or financier, I don’t either. Secrecy is for the protection of all involved. This is why you three chose new names for yourselves. Because of this rule, I cannot tell you the name of the school or the city where it resides until we arrive.”
Hazel stopped chewing on her beignet. “So the caretakers’ real names weren’t Elijah and Ruth?” she asked in that soft-spoken voice of hers.
“Probably not,” Colette gently answered. “Letty Pool isn’t my real name either.”
Hazel’s teary-eyed gaze fell to her empty luncheon plate.
Victoria leaned close and whispered something to Hazel, who then shrugged. “She doesn’t like lies,” Victoria explained.
Colette nodded with understanding. She didn’t like lies either, or understand the secrecy that the benefactor insisted upon or understand the reasons for the rules themselves. It shouldn’t matter if the girls knew Colette’s real name or if she bonded with them. But she’d promised Father she would adhere to all the benefactor’s requirements, which was why instead of sharing her thoughts with the girls, she chose to focus on explaining the rules.
“Rule number two: Don’t form attachments. My…employers gave me a list of etiquette skills to work with you. Since this is a sleeping car, our travel to the academy should take three full days, but sometimes issues with the train lengthen the trip. The longest trip was two years ago and took nine days. Whether the trip is three days or nine, I promise you’ll have plenty of time for leisure amid the lessons. Any questions?”
Ada nodded. “Do these etiquette lessons include dancing?”
“They do.” Colette paused. “However, I am not at liberty to require you to participate in any lesson you don’t wish to learn. And that brings me to rule number three.”
“I want to learn to dance,” Ada interjected.
Victoria looked at Colette. “Hazel and I also want to learn.”
Colette grinned. “Then you will be pleased to know Mr. Gaines, our cook, is a highly skilled fiddler who has agreed to play for us during dance lessons.” She paused as Mrs. Gaines quietly returned with coffee service. “Rule number three: Respect the girls’ choices. The benefactor insists that you each have the freedom to choose. Nothing will be forced upon you, not lessons, not attending the female academy. At any train stop, if you wish to de-board and start a new life on your own, I cannot stop you. Nor am I at liberty to try.”
“The caretakers gave us ten dollars,” Victoria shared.
“It’s not a lot to start a new life,” Ada said, “but they also taught us how to launder and mend clothes and how to clean so we could get jobs as hotel maids. If we wanted. I don’t want to be a maid.”
“What would you like to be?” Colette slid onto the chair next to Ada and listened as Ada and Victoria took turns sharing their hopes and dreams for their grand futures. They weren’t wealthy futures—Victoria wanted marriage, Ada wanted to be a librarian—but the dreams the girls had were better than what they would have experienced in a brothel.
Colette smiled, a newfound determination growing in her heart. Between here and Manhattan, she would do everything in her power to better equip Ada, Victoria, and Hazel for their new lives at the academy. It could be done, without breaking any of the benefactor’s rules.
The train whistled, and Colette glanced to the corridor. Where was the escort? The time to board was rapidly ticking away. Of course, she could very well chaperone the girls on her own to Manhattan. She didn’t need a partner on this trip. That the benefactor insisted on two guardians for the girls rather annoyed Colette. For all the benefactor’s insistence the girls have the freedom to choose, the benefactor gave little choice to those helping the girls: Follow my rules or I will find someone else who will.
The benefactor really ought to learn to trust those in the rescue ring to use their own judgment in caring for the girls.
Being closer in age to her charges, Colette could be an even better mentor than her parents had been. This trip—this adventure together—would change the girls for the better. She was sure of it.
Chapter Five
Pray, pray be composed, and do not betray what you feel to every body present.
—JANE AUSTEN, Sense and Sensibility
At the train’s whistle, Jakob folded the newspaper he’d been pretending to read since the morning’s eastbound train arrived. He laid the newspaper on the bench as he awaited the
final call to board. He’d taken the train from Helena to Billings yesterday and stayed overnight at the Headquarters Hotel, which doubled as the train depot. He’d registered as a guest under his chosen pseudonym, Matthew Jacobs. Mr. Jacobs was close enough to his real name that he wouldn’t hesitate to answer but far enough removed for Madame Lestraude’s requirement of anonymity whenever he was working on a secret mission for her.
The train conductor lifted his bell and clanged it while shouting, “Last call.”
Jakob grabbed the handle of his carpetbag, filled with a few toiletries, two shirts, a pair of waist overalls, and three pairs of socks. Any additional clothing he needed, he’d buy on the journey. Then again, the trip could be shorter than the nine days he guessed it to take based on when he had to be in Wichita for the auction.
He drew in a breath…and stood. A passenger car, sleeping car, and dining car separated him from the private Pullman coach. He walked down the platform as unobtrusively as his six-feet, five-inch frame allowed; his heartbeat increased with each step. Being entrusted with opening The Import Company paled in comparison to the task he was about to undertake.
He’d never been the guardian of a girl before, not to mention more than one. What was he supposed to talk to them about? He should have read some of Ma’s copies of Godey’s Lady’s Book.
Jakob focused his thoughts on the five tasks in the note he’d memorized from Madame Lestraude.
Billings depot, Tuesday, September 4.
Check.
Wear Sunday suit.
Check.
Watch for one or more impoverished-looking girls to board the private Pullman at the tail end of eastward-bound train.
Check. Three girls, unless he missed one while trying to appear uninterested.
Wait until the final call to board.
Check.
Jakob focused on the private car’s observation deck now only ten steps away.
The girls’ chaperone will provide specifics of the mission.
Nothing had been said about buying a ticket, so he hadn’t. He didn’t like going into anything blind. But that was Madame—only sharing enough details for the task she’d given him. Hadn’t he proven himself trustworthy of her confidence? He also didn’t like having to rely on someone else to fill him in on the details. Presumably, the chaperone knew the route they were taking and to where. Presumably, she’d made the trip before. Presumably—more like hopefully—she wasn’t toddy-headed in her old age. If fortune was in his favor, she would be a witty and astute woman like Mrs. Hollenbeck.
Adhering to Madame’s advice when she’d first hired him to look like you’re supposed to be doing what you’re doing and no one will question you, Jakob stepped up on the small balcony at the farthest end of the train. It allowed occupants an unhindered view of the landscape as they left it behind.
He opened the unlocked door. The smell of coffee and baked bread greeted him. His stomach rumbled in response. A crystal chandelier hung in the center of the observation room. A bit extravagant for a train car and something to avoid hitting with his head. The leather sofa looked six feet long, which meant the berth above it was likely that length, too. If there wasn’t another sleeping option for him, his feet would dangle off the end.
Several voices came from down the corridor. Should he go…? No, best wait for the chaperone to approach first.
Jakob cleared his throat and used his friendliest voice to call out, “Uh, hello?”
The voices quieted.
Footsteps. Then a pretty redhead appeared in the entrance to the corridor. She looked him over from head to foot. “Can I help you?” she asked in a voice that carried a hint of superiority.
Jakob’s tongue stilled. He’d never seen a person with that many freckles on her face. From the top of her shining copper hair to the ruffle of her shimmering blue silk dress, she matched the extravagant wealth reflected in the railcar’s polished brass, glossy mahogany, and crystal chandelier. She was tall, too. Not quite Ma’s height, but definitely not the usual foot or more shorter than he was.
No ring on her left hand.
What was a beautiful, unmarried woman doing on this train?
Her ginger eyebrows hitched a fraction higher in a silent demand for him to speak.
“Matthew Jacobs, at your service. I’m here to escort”—rescued prostitutes—“young ladies to…actually, I don’t know to where.” He shifted uncomfortably under her skeptical gaze. “My employer said the girls’ chaperone would explain the details of our mission.”
“I was told an older woman would be helping me.”
She was the chaperone?
“Is there a problem, Miss Pool?” came a deep voice from down the corridor.
She glanced over her shoulder. “No, stay there, Mr. Gaines. Everything’s fine.” Miss Pool then hurried over to Jakob and whispered, “Were you told to expect an older woman, too?”
“I was told…” Jakob shook his head as he tried to recall Madame’s minimal instructions, which was difficult considering how close Miss Pool was standing. She smelled like lemons and honeysuckle.
The train whistled and started forward; she braced her hand on the wall for balance.
“Mr. Jacobs, please finish what you were about to say. I need to know what you are thinking for this to be a successful partnership.” She sounded genuinely curious. “What were you told?”
“Nothing, actually. My employer said nothing about the chaperone.” Which was true.
“So you made an assumption.”
“A logical one,” he countered. “Anyone in their right mind would know an older woman would be a better chaperone than a fairy-tale princess.”
The corners of her mouth lifted, pleasure at his inadvertent compliment softening her features. Slow heat warmed the back of his neck. Noticing Miss Pool was pretty was one thing. Being attracted to her was untimely at best.
Unable to think straight with her staring at him, he looked away. “While neither of us are what the other expected, I think we should try to make the best of it for the girls’ sakes.”
“Life is too short to try to make the best of anything, Mr. Jacobs. Believe it will all work out, because it will. Even if it’s not how you expect.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Please look at me,” she said in a sweet voice. “When people don’t look at me when I’m talking to them, it makes me feel like they aren’t listening.”
Jakob met her gaze. She was staring at him yet not besottedly like the girls in Helena did. Or used to. Ever since Zoe spurned him in favor of Isaak, Jakob only received looks of pity. “I heard what you said, ma’am. Have you done this train trip before?”
Something flickered in her blue-gray eyes. Apprehension? Or maybe uncertainty. Before he could decide, it was replaced by self-assured poise, making him doubt he’d seen anything else.
Miss Pool raised her chin, her smile all cheerful and bright. “This is my first journey. I’m deeply honored and thrilled to be helping these girls. And you?”
“First trip,” he answered. Deeply honored, yes. Thrilled was a matter of debate.
“Then I suggest we start praying daily for God to give us wisdom and knowledge.” She studied his face. “How old are you, Mr. Jacobs?”
“Twenty-two.”
“So am I.” Her lips curved into the most appealing smirk he’d ever seen. “I could tell you were wondering.”
About her age, a little. About the shape and texture of her lips, more than he should. About who she really was, most definitely. Why would a lady like her take a job chaperoning rescued prostitutes? Asking would yield no answer. He suspected she was sworn to secrecy, too. But he wanted answers about Madame Lestraude’s rescue operation, partly because he was curious but mostly to avoid walking into a trap. He wanted Madame to treat him as a partner, not a toss-away hired hand.
Since she was unwilling to give him details, then Miss Pool was an opportunity. She seemed to enjoy talking, and if he asked the right questions, like mining for gold, she might unwittingly reveal information he wanted.
Jakob glanced around the ornate observation room. “Do you own this Pullman?”
“It’s rented.”
“Who’s Mr. Gaines?”
“He is doubling as our chef and steward during the course of our trip, while Mrs. Gaines will assist us with our personal needs. They’re working on their eighteenth year of service with the Pullman Company.” Miss Pool leaned forward as if to impart a secret. “As employees of the Pullman Company, they’re sworn to confidentiality regarding what goes on inside these walls. Still, it’s imperative you say nothing of the rescue ring. All they know is I am taking three orphaned girls to a female academy.”
A simple yet plausible cover story.
Jakob gave her his most winning smile. “Did you bring a gun?”
“We won’t need one. My par—” She cleared her throat. “My employers, the couple who usually escorts the girls to the academy, insisted that the only dangerous part of the trip is here in Billings. As long as no one questions why three impoverished girls boarded an executive charter, then the potential for danger is avoided.”
He doubted that. “Why is Billings the only dangerous part of the trip?”
She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at him, keeping her voice low. “The girls have been at a secure location long enough for anyone who wanted to find them to stop looking. In my experience, people who are traveling tend to mind their own business, so I see no reason why anyone would suspect what we’re really doing.”
Jakob hadn’t known about the delay between rescues from the brothel to this trip to the academy. A wise precaution, but he was still glad he’d packed both a gun and a knife. “Miss Pool, while you believe all danger has passed once we’ve left Billings, the truth is if we de-board at any stop—”
“We won’t,” she cut in. “This is a fully stocked sleeping and dining car, Mr. Jacobs. Except for a train change in St. Paul, we have no reason to de-board until we arrive at our destination.”