Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (6 page)

Shelby glared at Julia, her eyes red from crying. “I don’t want it!” She grabbed the intricately sewn fabric, tossed it to the floor, and stomped on it.

Julia winced as if it were her heart on the floor feeling the strike of Shelby’s black patent leather shoe.

“That naughty!” Bea pointed accusingly at the smudged pillowslip.

Julia swallowed hard and then focused on Shelby, reaching a trembling hand to her shoulder. “I’ll put it in my bag. Maybe you’ll change your mind later.”

“I don’t want anything reminding me of you!”

Julia felt a wave of relief when the conductor chose that moment to enter. “This way,” he called, his cheerful voice helping to dissipate the gloom that had settled over the train car.

“Is the train leaving from here right away?” Julia asked him. “I need to see my girls to their new homes.” She straightened her shoulders, regaining control—of herself, the girls, her emotions.

The conductor offered a reassuring smile. “We just have to scoot up to the water tower over yonder. Once we get filled up, we’ll come back. You have one hour, but don’t be late. We need to get to Cascade on time, and we won’t be waitin’.”

“I’ll be here.” Quickly wiping her eyes, Julia led the girls out the door and down the steps to a dusty road. Yet there was no town, and no parents waited as in the other stops—just an old rail car used as the depot and one lone wagon with a sign.

R
IDE TO TOWN. 2 BITS

“Howdy, miss.” A short, scruffy man, the driver of the wagon, approached. “I’m Horace.” A big toothless smile filled his face. “These the orphans from a Mrs. Hamlin’s school?”

“Yes,” Julia answered.

“You Julia Cavanaw-guh?”

“Yes…” Odd, none of the other folks who met them at the depots knew her name.

The man did a happy little jig, and Julia laughed. Must just be one of the quirky characters in these parts—like that Mabelina.

“Thank you, sir,” she said and then turned to the girls. “Go ahead and climb in that wagon.” Julia reached in her pocket for the two bits the sign indicated, but Horace shook his hands, stopping her.

“This one’s on me.”

Situated on the buckboard next to the odd man, Julia settled Bea onto her lap. The other girls sat on the dirty wagon bed. Their simple traveling dresses—far from the bright white they’d been—gathered yet another layer of dirt.
Well,
Julia thought,
perhaps I’ll have a moment to brush them off before the parents see them.

“Gitup,” Horace called to the large black stallion as he lifted the reins.

“Pe-ew!” Bea pinched her nose. “That man stinky.”

Julia struggled to hold back a laugh. Then she snuggled Beatrice closer to her side, hoping the man hadn’t heard. “No, Bea. Not nice.”

The wagon lunged forward, and Julia and Bea were nearly jolted off their seat. She used her free hand to steady them as she took in the barren scenery and frosted mountains that formed a border to the vast, reaching sky. But the wagon joggled and jerked so much that the only thing she could focus on was keeping herself and Bea from bouncing clear off and onto the dusty road.

Bea giggled, liking the ride. “Ah-h-h-h…” Her voice wobbled along with the wagon.

As they approached the town, the music of a single hand organ joined in with hoofbeats, whinnies, and the jingle of bridles. Julia viewed the dirt-and weed-covered road and the half-a-dozen or so buildings alongside, which she assumed made up Big Sandy. Some of the buildings looked newer, with fresh paint announcing their goods. Most had porches, and on them men—exclusively men—talked with each other and watched the wagon rolling in.

Large white tents also lined the main street, and they looked more suitable for a wilderness expedition than a town.
What are those tents for?
She counted nine. Were they family dwellings? Why couldn’t they have built houses?

The wagon pulled up in front of a whitewashed building with a single gable gazing down.

“Is this my new house?” Liza stood and leaned over Julia’s shoulder to see. “It’s so big. I hope it is.”

“No.” The hot wind slapped strands of Julia’s hair against her cheek. “See, it says The Spokane House. That means it’s a hotel.”

Julia began directing the girls off the wagon, and a beautiful brunette woman, with a pregnant belly bulging beneath her flowing prairie skirt, approached with a smile.

“Hello, I’m Miriam Lafuze.” She held the rough planks of the cart and glanced at Julia and the girls. “We’re so happy you’re here. You can’t imagine how blessed our families feel to take in their new daughters.”

“Thank you.” Julia liked the woman’s face and her gentle tone. Just being near her put Julia at ease.

Miriam walked to the back and offered the girls a hand as they jumped off. Julia was last, but before she could take Miriam’s hand, Horace shouldered Miriam, sending her wobbling out of the way.

“May I halp you, miss?” He offered his hand like a prairie gentleman.

Julia took it and jumped down, noticing Miriam’s frown.

“Horace, you’d better be getting my wagon back to the stable. Parson Ike and I will want it later, and the horses need to be fed and watered.”

Horace’s forehead folded into a frown. “Fine.” His gaze shifted toward Julia. “But I’ll be seein’ you later, as sure as a possum comes out at night.”

Seeing me later? He must think I’ll be staying.
Julia didn’t have time to explain. “Fine, sure.”

Horace tipped his hat and moseyed off.

Julia glanced at the porch where men outfitted in Stetson hats and boots and women in bonnets and aprons gathered. They were paired as couples, a few with children tagging along.

The girls’ families.

Julia said a silent prayer to help her make it through the next hour, as she’d release the last of her girls to strangers.

Miriam laid a hand on Julia’s back, seeming to sense her anxiety. Then Bea, still at Julia’s side, tugged on her arm. Julia picked her up. “This is our youngest.”

“I’m Bea! Buzz, buzz, buzz.”

Miriam tickled the toddler. “You are a little bee, aren’t you? So adorable.”

Bea wiggled and grinned, and suddenly the thought of never watching the girl’s curly hair bouncing, sweet blue eyes twinkling, or squeaky voice laughing sent a jolt of pain through her heart. She pressed Bea tighter to her, not wanting to let go and straining to squelch her emotions.

Julia’s chin quivered, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. Her eyes began to sting as tears struggled to the surface. Although she’d nearly shed tears in front of the handsome conductor on several occasions, she hadn’t allowed herself to truly weep since that night before they’d left New York. Couldn’t she hold it back one more hour?

“Yes…she is adorable.” Julia’s voice wedged in her throat. Her knees weakened, and she scooted toward the porch and leaned against a pole for extra support.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz,” Bea said again, now delighted with the attention. But as Julia glanced up, she realized that the men and women no longer watched Bea. Instead they focused on her, and the compassion she read in their gazes only made her feel worse. Two lines of hot tears betrayed her and ran down her cheeks.

Her throat ached as she swallowed a sob. In the midst of a long, sniffling gulp, Julia saw a man walk off the dusty road onto the porch’s planks. He was a muscular man in a rough shirt and vest, and he had the most handsome face she’d ever seen—both strong and kindly. As he approached, he removed his hat, which was black and not exactly like the cowboys’, and for a quick moment his concerned midnight eyes locked with hers.

“Isaac, you’re here,” Miriam said.

“I couldn’t miss this, now could I?” He turned to Julia. “Miss.” His voice was deep yet gentle. “Is everything all right? Can I help you?”

Julia lifted her gaze, again attempting to wipe away the rebel tears with her hand. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

The man called Isaac held a red bandanna handkerchief out to her. “It’s clean.” He offered a shy grin. “I promise.”

“I’ll be fine…thank you.” She accepted the gesture and wiped her face and nose, nearly soaking it. Wishing he’d look away, she held the handkerchief awkwardly, not knowing how to give it back in such a state.

Thankfully, Miriam spoke. “This is the wonderful woman who brought the girls to us. She, understandably, is a little saddened by saying good-bye—as I would be as well.”

Thank you.
Julia wished she could say the words but was sure more tears would come with them.

Miriam held Isaac’s arms. “Are
you
doing all right? I know the funeral was difficult.”

Julia watched the couple.
Miriam must be Isaac’s wife
. She shoved the handkerchief into her valise, planning to mail it back after washing and pressing it.

“I’m fine. Glad to be here. I consider this the sunshine after the storm.”

Miriam’s forehead creased. “Are you sure?”

“Y’know, I think Milo—” The man’s voice snapped off, and his bottom lip tightened. “He would’ve wanted me to be here…to meet these girls.”

Miriam took him into an embrace, and another young woman approached, joining them.

Julia averted her eyes and looked to the girls. Their weary eyes pleaded with her to get this over with—all but Shelby’s. She stood to the side, leaning against the wall.

Isaac stepped away from Miriam and gazed at Julia. “No need to make things harder for Miss Cavanaugh here,” he said. “We should get started.”

Miriam straightened her shoulders, apparently ready to work. “You’re right.” She turned to Julia. “I’ll go into the hotel office and prepare the paperwork. You can bring the girls in, and then we’ll match them up. My brother can help you with their bags.” Miriam squeezed Julia’s hand.

Brother?
Julia felt a smidge of hope bubble up, and then she chided herself. She’d be gone in an hour. What was she thinking?

Julia held Miriam’s hand for a moment longer. “Thank you.”

Miriam’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “You’re welcome.” And before she ambled to the office, she winked at her brother and nodded her head toward Julia. A rush of warmth touched Julia’s face at Miriam’s obvious hint.

Isaac frowned, immediately dismissing his sister’s glance with a quick shake of his head. Was that disgust in his glare? Pride?

Who’s he to dismiss me like that? It’s not as if I was mooning over him.

Isaac grabbed up as much of the luggage as his hands could seemingly hold. When he reached for Julia’s valise, she grasped it. “I can carry my own, thank you.”

She pivoted to the girls. “Come. It’s time.” The girls gathered together, and Julia hurried them inside, refusing to feel hurt over Isaac’s dismissal.

The sun beat down through The Spokane House lobby’s paned window, casting crisscrossed shadows over the rug on the wood-planked floor. Isaac eyed the children’s caretaker. Miss Cavanaugh, Miriam had called her. He watched as she settled onto a long bench, straightened the girls’ dresses, and told them to sit like ladies. Her brown eyes squinted and her lower lip rose in a slight frown, yet she was still quite lovely. As much as he tried to aim his glance elsewhere, it kept returning to Miss Cavanaugh.

Isaac chewed his thumbnail. His mind slowed for some reason, and he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Isaac, what’s wrong with you?” Elizabeth knocked his hand from his mouth. “You haven’t bitten your nails for years, not since Miriam put the camphor solution on them when you were, what, eight?”

Isaac wiped his hands on his trousers and chuckled nervously. “Yeah, and I couldn’t pump enough water from the well to get that nasty taste out of my mouth.”

Elizabeth, her husband Abe, and the other soon-to-be parents filed into the few chairs or stood against the walls.

Isaac struggled to focus on the task before him, matching the parents with the children, yet his thoughts kept returning to that Miss Cavanaugh like a wagon stuck in a rut.

Abe’s grin turned up the corner of his mouth. “Uh, Parson Ike, you sure have a strange look on your face—and you keep starin’ at that caregiver. Don’t you think you should get started with these girls here? Plenty of time to talk to her later.”