A Chance at Love (3 page)

Jake was a farmer, and his brief stint at Howard College qualified him as the closest thing the area had to an animal doctor, but he wasn't wealthy by anyone's measure. The corn and hogs he raised brought in money at harvest time, and although his neighbors rarely paid for his medical services in coin, Jake managed to make sure the girls were clothed and fed. All that aside, today proved that they needed more than just food and clothing. Had Bonnie not lost her life in the carriage accident, she'd be the one raising them, but they were now his to look after. He'd initially wanted to blame the girls' sudden quest for a new mother on the organizers that brought in the mail-order women; after all, they were the ones responsible for the hubbub that had been sweeping the colony for the past
six weeks. If the twins' friends hadn't been so excited about getting new mothers, today's incident might not have happened. But Jake knew such blame was misplaced. Nothing was that simple. They were girls, and one day would grow into women. They'd be needing guidance along the way, and he didn't know a thing about getting them to that point. He couldn't even take them shopping in town because he knew nothing about buying their clothes, and so rather than ask Rebecca to handle the tasks, he kept them in boots and denims. Neither of the girls seemed to mind, at least so far, but he knew that would change. Soon, their heads would be filled with the yearnings and urges of adolescent girls, and he'd be about as much help to their maturation as a Klansman at a Black Republican rally.

Jake reached down and gently stroked Bebe's brow. Lord knows, he'd already decided to get married just for their sake, but suitable women were hard to find out here. He knew folks in the area were putting money on Rebecca Appleby saddling him. Rebecca had emigrated here ten years ago with her preacher father. She was a decent, churchgoing woman who could cook, sew, and at twenty-five years of age still young enough to bear children of her own, but the fact that the girls didn't care for her or she for them stood as a formidable barrier to asking for her hand. If he married for the sake of the girls, Jake thought it only right that the future Mrs. Jake Reed be a woman they could love, and be loved by in return. Rebecca's preacher daddy had instilled a lot of fire and brimstone in her, and every now and then it raised its righteous head. Like today. Yes, he'd been angry at the girls for disobeying her and leaving the house, but not angry enough to take a strap
to them. He didn't know when they'd finally be at peace with Bonnie's death, but the girls seemed to believe that finding a new mother would solve all of their problems. He wasn't naive enough to believe that, but there was nothing wrong with hope.

W
hen Jake got up Saturday morning, the girls were gone. Their empty bed filled his insides with the same stomach-roiling panic he'd had yesterday. Hoping against hope that they'd just gotten up early, he ran out to the barns and pens, calling their names. Silence. He stood in the center of the front yard and yelled across the plains, but received no reply.

He hurried into the barn to saddle Fox, and found a piece of paper nailed to the stallion's stall. He snatched it free and read the childish handwriting.

After saddling his horse, a tight-lipped Jake rode hard towards the rising sun.

His first stop was the Gibson place. Agatha Gibson was Bebe's best friend. Their pa Arthur, was a big-boned man from Tennessee, and the colony's blacksmith. He'd gotten himself a mail-order woman two years ago. Her name was Denise and she seemed a perfect fit for the giant Gibson and his two little girls. Art's first wife, Jeanette, died giving birth to their youngest daughter Charlene.

Jake's hard knocks brought Arthur to the door in his union suit. His large hands were cradling a shotgun, but upon seeing it was Jake on the porch, the big man visibly relaxed.

“Thought it might be trouble,” Gibson said, in explanation of the gun. He looked back over his shoulder and called, “It's only Jake, Denise.”

Gibson, like some of the other colonists, had come to Kansas as part of the famed Exodus of '79 to escape the bloody Redemption being waged by the South's Democrats. As a result, he was constantly on alert for anyone bent upon harming him, his family, or his rights as a citizen. “What're you doing out this time of morning, Jake? The sun just got up.”

“Are the girls here?”

Gibson looked puzzled. “Yeah, my girls are here. They're 'sleep, though.”

Jake held on to his patience. “Not your girls, Arthur. Mine. Are they here?”

“Why no. They missing?”

Jake nodded tersely, then gave him a quick account of the twins' quest for a new mother. “This whole bride thing has them on a wild streak.”

“Girls need a woman.”

“I'm finding that out.” Jake ran a frustrated hand over
his short hair. “I'm going into town. If the twins show up here, make them stay put. I'll stop by on my way back.”

Arthur nodded. “Sure will. If you need help searching, just come on back and let me know. Hope you find them.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

Jake mounted Fox and continued the ride to town. As the big stallion ate up the distance, Jake tried to think like an eight-year-old. If he were the girls, where would he go? He was only a few miles from Rebecca's house, but he doubted they'd go there, so it made no sense to stop by to see. He also had no desire to hear Rebecca's, “I told you sos.”

 

At the train station, the driver finally got all Loreli's trunks, valises and hat boxes unloaded from his hack. She tipped him generously for his help, and he departed with a friendly wave.

The train tracks were located about eight miles west of town. The depot was nothing more than a shed but Loreli didn't care as long as she could purchase a ticket. There were about ten people waiting for the train. According to the hand-lettered sign on the depot it was scheduled to arrive within the hour. Loreli, dressed in an emerald green traveling costume and matching hat, spotted a uniformed ticket agent seated behind a table. She headed over to purchase her ticket, and suddenly froze with surprise. In conversation with him were Bebe and Dede.
What are they doing here?
Loreli scanned the area for their uncle or the sour-faced Rebecca Appleby, but saw neither. Leaving her piled-up trunks and hat boxes, Loreli hurried over to get an answer to this early morning mystery.

She heard the agent saying to the girls in exasperated
tones, “I can't sell you a ticket. You don't have any money.”

“But—” Bebe began. “We—”

“Mornin' girls.”

The twins spun in unison at the sound of Loreli's voice.

The ticket agent asked Loreli with what sounded like relief, “Are these two yours?”

Loreli nodded, her censuring eyes focused on the girls. “I'll take it from here, sir. Thanks.”

He rose to his feet, and gushed gratefully, “No, thank you,” then he hustled away.

Both girls looked very guilty.

Loreli asked coolly. “What are you two doing here?”

Silence.

Finally Bebe said, “We're going to find a mama.”

“Where's your uncle?”

Dede offered meekly, “At home.”

“And what do you think he's doing right now?”

Neither girl offered an answer, so Loreli did. “Probably searching the countryside, worried sick.”

Twin heads dropped.

“You
should
be ashamed. Now hustle your little selves over to that stack of trunks while I find a hack.” She then added a warning, “And ladies, if you disappear on me—pray your uncle finds you before I do.”

Loreli waited until they were standing beside her trunks before she strode off to find someone to take them all back to town. The twins needed a mama all right—one with a switch in her hand.

The hack driver who'd initially ferried Loreli to the train depot had been awaiting a return fare, so he was more than happy to take her and the girls back to town. He
reloaded her trunks, valises and hat boxes, and after tying the reins of Bebe's mare, Phoebe, to the back of the hack, finally got them underway.

Due to the space taken up by all of Loreli's luggage, Dede had to sit on Loreli's lap. Bebe was squeezed in beside them. Loreli could see the furtive glances the girls kept sending her way when they thought she wasn't looking, but for the first little while Loreli didn't say anything, mainly because she didn't know what to say. How do you relay to two eight-year-olds the anguish they were undoubtedly causing their uncle by running away, but then again, how do you explain to an adult how much a mama means when you don't have one? “You know girls, I grew up without my mama too.”

They looked surprised.

Dede asked, “What happened to her?”

“She died in a fire.”

There was silence for a moment, then Bebe asked, “How old were you?”

“Three.”

“We were seven.”

Loreli looked down at them. “You miss your mama a lot, don't you?”

Both girls nodded solemnly, then Bebe added, “We have her picture, and we say hello to her every night in our prayers.”

“That's a good thing. I don't have a picture. In fact, I don't even remember what she looked like. I was too young when she died, I guess.”

There was silence again, then Loreli said, “Your uncle loves you both very much, and your running away is scaring him to death.”

Both girls looked ashamed again, and Loreli told them softly. “I know you're not trying to scare him on purpose, but promise me you'll never do this again. Ever.”

Both girls met her eyes.

“Promise me.”

Dede was the first to break down, and said quietly, “I promise.”

Loreli looked to Bebe. “Be? Promise me.”

Bebe audibly sighed her surrender, then offered up grudgingly, “I promise too. We don't want Uncle Jake to be scared.”

“Thank you,” Loreli said, giving them a hug. She then bestowed a rewarding kiss on each smooth brown brow. “Your uncle shouldn't have to go to sleep every night worrying if you two will be in your beds when the sun comes up,” she added gently. “I know it's hard being without your mother, but she's with you in your hearts. Always will be.”

Loreli realized that her father had often comforted his own motherless child with the same words. In the end, Loreli had survived and they would too. The fact that their uncle provided a stable home was also in their favor. She'd never had that.

Once they returned to town, Loreli had the driver stop at the sheriff's office. She wanted to see if Jake Reed had reported his nieces missing. He had. In fact, when she and the girls entered, he was inside talking to the sheriff.

Loreli could see the worry drop from Reed's features when he saw the girls. The worry was replaced by sternness. “Where were you?”

Loreli answered. “I found them at the station.”

His eyes widened as he scanned their faces “At the train station?”

Bebe nodded. “The agent wouldn't sell us a ticket, though.”

Dede explained: “He said we needed some money.”

Jake's head dropped and he chuckled in spite of his earlier worry. “Where were you going, girls?”

Loreli cracked. “Without any coin? Nowhere.” She could sense the sheriff evaluating her, taking in her expensive traveling costume and feather-tipped hat. She knew from experience that he was trying to determine if she were street woman, confidence woman, or both, so she said to him, “Mornin', Sheriff. Name's Loreli Winters.”

He nodded. “Morning, Miss Winters. I'm Sheriff Walter Mack. Thanks for your help.” Mack was tall, White, and appeared to be in his late fifties, early sixties.

Jake Reed met her eyes, and Loreli swore he looked no more pleased to see her than he'd been yesterday. “Yes, thank you.” He then turned back to his nieces. “You girls have to promise me you'll never do this again.”

Dede confessed, “We already promised Loreli.”

He looked surprised.

Bebe added, “She said our running away scares you to death.”

His lip tightened beneath his mustache. “She's right.”

“Loreli's mama got burned up in a fire when she was three,” Dede said, “but she doesn't have a picture of her mama like we do.”

Loreli, feeling the sympathy in Dede's words, smiled. “And that makes you girls very lucky.”

Jake took in the fancy-dressed Miss Winters and had to admit, he hadn't expected that she of all people would understood how the girls must be feeling about losing their mother. Even though she appeared to be of questionable
character, he was grateful. “I appreciate you bringing them back.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Ready to go home?” Jake asked the twins.

They nodded.

First though, both girls gave Loreli a strong hug. Bebe whispered emotionally against Loreli's waist, “I wish you could be our mama.”

Loreli, gently holding them both, replied truthfully, “I do too.” Loreli knew Jake Reed was watching, but she ignored him. She bent down and looked Bebe and Dede in the eyes. “Now, remember what I said about your mother. Okay?”

The girls nodded.

“And no more running away—you promised. A woman always keeps her word.”

They nodded once more.

Loreli stood. The girls looked as sad as she felt.

Jake Reed wondered how she'd been able to establish such a rapport with the twins in so short a time. “All right,” he said to them, “let's head home.”

The girls offered Loreli a departing wave, then were gone.

After their exit, Loreli turned to leave too, but the sheriff's voice stopped her. “You wanted anywhere, Miss Winters?”

Loreli had been expecting the question. She turned back and drawled saucily, “Sheriff, I'm wanted everywhere—but not by the law. Thanks for asking, though.”

He smiled, just as she knew he would. She threw him a wink, then exited back out onto the street.

 

Playing the Good Samaritan had caused Loreli to miss her train, so now she would have to cool her heels until the next train on Friday. The hack driver had waited, so she had him drive her back to the boardinghouse she'd checked out of earlier in the day. On the way she surveyed the town. It was small by anyone's standards: one general store, a milliner's shop, a bank, a livery. A sign on the front of one building read:
TAYLOR
's
UNDERTAKING
—Telegraph and Post Office. She assumed there was also a saloon somewhere, more than likely outside of town, because most communities had at least one nearby. In all, there were about ten buildings connected by a weathered plank walk that kept the citizens from having to slosh through the muddy street when it rained.

Loreli asked the driver. “This town have a name?”

“Yes, ma'am. We call it Hanks.”

“Hanks?”

“Yes. It's named that for the soldier who started the town.”

“I see.” At least she now knew where she was.

The boardinghouse was situated only a short distance from town set among a small group of houses. The proprietor, a gnarled, old brown-skinned woman named Mrs. Boyd, took the paying guest back happily. “You want the same room, Miss Winters?”

“Sure.”

“How in the world did you miss the train?”

“Business,” was all Loreli would say. She doubted Reed wanted his news spread all over Hanks.

“Well, welcome back. I'll have my son take those trunks and things around to your room.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Boyd.”

With that bit of business transacted, Loreli went back to the room. By dusk, she was bored. Wondering if she could at least horn in on a card game, she walked down to the sheriff's office.

When he looked up from his desk and saw her, he smiled. “Well, hello there, Miss Winters. What can I do for you?”

“Where can I find a good poker game?”

He went still for a moment. “Poker?”

“Yes, you know, the card game?”

He looked her up and down, then asked, “You're a gambler, then?”

“All my life.”

He shook his head with wonder. “Never played cards with a woman before, but I consider myself pretty good.”

“Well, that's two for the table. You know anyone else?”

A grin creased his sun-weathered face. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“Yes, sir, I am. Haven't played in so long my hands are starting to itch.”