Orphan Train Romance 1 - 5 (11 page)

TWO WEEKS LATER

Lydia looked out of the train window.  The conductor had just told her that they would be arriving in Maple Grove in ten minutes.  She had just enough time to pull herself together.  She felt very nervous at the thought of starting a new chapter of her life. 

Her father had passed away two days after her talk with him.  His funeral had been scheduled for two days after his death and Noreen had taken her to the train station early the next morning.  She wondered how long it took Richard to realize that she was gone.  Because of her father's warning, Lydia had pretended throughout the days leading to her father's funeral that she was going to marry Richard as soon as it was socially acceptable.  She remembered how hard it was to pretend and was glad that she had been able to get away without notice.  She felt almost relieved to leave Chicago and the situation with Richard.  He had displayed some controlling behavior that had scared her and part of her was glad circumstances made it that she would not be marrying him. 

Lydia stared at the passing scenery outside the train window.  She wondered what Mr. Clinton Byron was going to be like.  Was he as reluctant as she was to marry?  She prayed that her father was correct and that she would have a good life in Texas, but she really did not know how that was going to happen since they really didn't know each other.

Lydia started to gather up her belongings.  She didn’t have that much with her.  She had only taken a few changes of clothes and some keepsakes that would help her remember her parents and her childhood.  She had brought a few of her favorite books with her, but she had a hard time focusing on reading.  She was dressed in black mourning clothes and the clothing she brought was also suitable for mourning.  She wondered if Mr. Byron would want to marry as soon as she arrived or if he would allow her to have a period of mourning first.

She tried not to think too much about her potential husband and focused on the farms and ranches they were passing.  It wasn’t very pretty this time of year in July, just dry and hot.  She thought Chicago had hot summers, but she was not prepared for the hot humid weather of Texas.

She suddenly felt the train start to slow down and then stop.  The train was scheduled to stop in Maple Grove for a short period of time and most of the travelers started to get off to stretch their legs.  Lydia gathered her carpetbag and started to walk to the entrance to leave the train car.  She felt grimy and dirty after her days of riding on the train and wished she had some way of cleaning up before she met Mr. Byron. 

As she got off the train, she looked around, trying to guess which man standing around on the platform was Mr. Byron.  She did not see a man who she thought he would look like, so she walked towards the train station to stand in the shade of the building and wait for him.  As she stood there, she looked around, watching the people around her.  She actually liked what she saw of Maple Grove.  It was a small town, but the buildings looked well cared for.  She noticed some buggies drive away from the train station, leaving dust in their wake.  She saw a few children chasing each other until their mother instructed them to stop.  Then Lydia saw a tall, dark handsome cowboy walking towards her.

*****

Clinton Byron sat on the bench in front of the train station to wait for the train to come in with his bride.  He had received her telegram a week ago informing him that she would be arriving.  He was looking forward to meeting her.  He had known his father had arranged this marriage to Lydia for most of his life and surprisingly he was fine with the arrangement.  Now that his father was gone, he spent all of his waking hours running the family cattle ranch.  He did not have time to court a woman properly and he was glad he could skip all that nonsense and still have a wife.  He was ready to settle down and start a family.

He didn’t know why Lydia was coming all of the sudden.  He knew she was supposed to come when she turned 20 years old, but that would not be for a few months.  He was just grateful she was coming.  Clinton started to think about the wedding.  Would she want to get married right away?  That would be the logical solution.  It would not be proper to have her in his home for too long, even though his mother still resided there.  The ranch house was very large and his mother had her own suite of rooms which she shared with his 15-year-old sister, Jamie.  A separate set of rooms had been added on to the ranch house just for his use a few years ago.  It would not look good for Lydia to be living there and not be married to him.

Clinton’s thoughts turned to the ranch and responsibilities that he needed to accomplish today.  Even though he had a competent foreman and many hands working for him, he still liked to be in the middle of things.  He wanted to make sure the fencing on the north side of the horse pasture was checked and a hole he had noticed in the fence was repaired.  He was also contemplating the idea of building another barn that would just hold the horses, instead of having them in the same barn as some of the cattle.

A train horn interrupted his thoughts and he watched as the train pulled into the station.  Many people started to get off the train, likely to get something to eat at the boarding house that was located across the street, or to walk around a bit before getting back on to continue their journey.  He waited patiently, watching for a young woman who would be alone.

He soon saw a pretty young woman get off the train by herself carrying a carpetbag.  He immediately noticed her almost black hair that had escaped the bun she had on the back of her head.  She wasn’t tall, almost a foot shorter than his height of a little over six feet.  He also noticed that she was dressed in mourning attire.  He started to dismiss her as Lydia, but watched as she looked around as if looking for someone, then walked to stand in the shade the train station provided and continued to look around as if she was waiting for someone.  He watched as a train worker set a small trunk beside her.  He figured he had better see who she was, although he was not expecting someone who would be wearing a black dress.

As he approached the young woman, she turned and watched him come closer to her.  He removed his cowboy hat and asked, “I am wondering if you are Miss Lydia Brown?”

The pretty young woman nodded.  “Yes, I am.  You must be Mr. Clinton Byron.  I am glad you received my telegram.”

For a moment they both stood looking at each other, neither of them knowing what to say.  “I hope you had a good trip,” Clinton finally said, breaking the silence.

“It was fine, although a bit long,” Lydia replied.  “I am glad I am finally here.”

Clinton really wanted to know why she was dressed in black, but decided they could talk on the ride back to his ranch.  “My wagon is over there.”  He pointed to a wagon with a team of brown horses.  “Let’s get your things loaded and we can be on our way.”

Lydia nodded, but hesitated to follow him.  “I was wondering if there is a place where I could freshen up a bit.”

Clinton nodded.  “I can take you to the boarding house.  I am sure the sisters would be willing to help you with that.  Is this your only luggage?”  He gestured to the small trunk next to her.

Lydia nodded and then watched him in amazement as he hoisted it up on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.  She followed him as he placed her trunk in the back of his wagon. 

“I didn’t have much time to pack anything.  I just brought what I would need for the immediate future,” she explained.

Clinton felt confused at her words and almost started to ask questions, but reminded himself they would have plenty of time to talk later.  “Let me take you to the boarding house.”

She took his arm and he led her across the street to a large two-story Victorian house.  Two sisters, Miss Sarah and Sally Collier, ran the boarding house and a small restaurant located inside.  They both were in their 50’s and had never married.  They had been around running their business for as long as Clinton could remember. 

He led Lydia into the parlor of the large home and saw one of the sisters, Miss Sally Collier, at a desk writing down a customer’s information.  They waited until she was finished, then she turned to them.

“Hello, Mr. Bryon,” she greeted him.  “What can I do for you?”

“This is Miss Lydia Brown.  She has just come from Chicago on the train and will be staying with us at the ranch.  She would like to freshen up before we head out there.”  Clinton introduced her to the older woman.  “Lydia, this is Miss Sally Collier, one of the fine women who run this establishment.  We call her Miss Sally in order to not confuse her with her sister, Miss Sarah.”

Miss Sally grasped Lydia’s hand.  “Welcome to Maple Grove.  I am sure you would like some time to freshen up before you leave for the Byron Ranch”. 

“Thank you,” Lydia said to her.  Clinton noticed that she looked very tired.

“Follow me, dear.  I will get you some water and a towel.  You’ll feel better in no time.”  Miss Sally started to lead her away from Clinton towards the back of the house. 

Lydia turned to smile at Clinton and then followed Miss Sally out of the room, clutching her bag that she had kept with her.

Clinton felt like he couldn’t sit on the fancy sofas that were in the room with his dusty clothes, so he wandered around the parlor looking at the pictures and knick-knacks until Lydia returned.  He watched her thank Miss Sally again and then turned to Clinton.  She had brushed her hair, braided it and put it back in the bun.  Her face looked pink as if recently scrubbed.  She didn’t look as pale as she had when he first saw her.  He noticed that she was grasping a small basket along with her bag.

“Miss Sally gave us some food to eat on our way,” Lydia explained as she held up the basket.

“That’s nice of her,” Clinton said, thinking about the packed food in another basket his housekeeper had fixed for that very purpose on his wagon.  They sure won’t grow hungry.  He reached over and took her bag from her.

“We can go now,” Lydia said to him and took his arm again as they left the boarding house, carrying the basket on the other arm. 

Clinton felt tongue-tied.  She looked even prettier than before.  Was it possible he could have feelings for her this early in their relationship?  They walked silently back to where he had left his wagon and horses, and he helped her into the seat.  He set the basket Miss Sally had given her next to the other basket of food, then jumped up beside her and lightly slapped the reins on the horses back to get them moving.

Lydia sat next to Clinton as they headed out of town toward his ranch.  “How far away is your ranch?” she asked after a long silence.  She tried not to stare at him, but she had never seen anyone as handsome as he was.  He had such broad shoulders and she could see his muscles ripple under his plaid shirt as he controlled the horses.  His dark brown hair was long enough that the tips touched the top of his collar and it curled a bit at the ends.  He had on a black cowboy hat that made him look even more handsome. 

“It’s about an hour or so from town,” Clinton answered.  He was staring straight ahead as if driving the horses needed all his attention.  There was another long silence. 

“Why are you wearing mourning clothes?” he finally asked.

Lydia sighed in relief.  He was finally talking.  “My father died a fortnight ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clinton cursed under his breath.  “Is that why you came here so quickly?”

“There were a lot of things that happened.  I…I can’t talk about it right now.  I will say that my father instructed me to come immediately after his funeral, which I did.”  Her voice was shaky as she talked.  The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her father’s death and what he had told her before he died.

Clinton reached over, took her hand, and squeezed it.  “I’m glad you are here.  I have been waiting a long time for you to come.”

“You have?” Lydia was surprised at his words.  “How long have you known about me and about our fathers’ arrangement?’

“I think I was about 12 years old when my father told me.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that this arrangement has been made, that you can’t choose your own bride?” Lydia questioned.

Clinton shook his head.  “Nah, I was fine with it.  My father was a very wise man and I have always trusted him.  Besides, I spend so much time running the ranch, I don’t have time to look for a wife.”

Lydia was silent for a few minutes.  “I found out a few days before my father’s death.”

Clinton could not believe what he was hearing.  “You mean you didn’t know about me at all?”

“I knew about your family and I knew your father helped my parents come to America, but I didn’t know all the details.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t seem to have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice, Lydia.  I am not going to force you to marry me.”

“What are my other options?  The only thing I know how to do is tailoring.  I doubt there will be much need for that type of work in Maple Grove.”

“Probably not,” Clinton agreed, “but we can work something out.”

“Your father lent my father some money to come to America and to set up our store, and he was not able to pay it back before he died.  He told me I needed to honor his agreement.  I have no other way to pay it back.  In fact, I don’t even know the amount left that he owed.”

****

Clinton sighed.  He did not like what he was hearing.  Why would her father insist on this marriage?  Clinton knew the circumstances behind the agreement and he knew her father had been able to pay back almost all of the money.  He knew his own father would have insisted on forgiving the rest if he had been alive.  His family had plenty of money and the cattle ranch was doing well. 

He did not have a problem with the arranged marriage.  He already liked what he saw of her.  She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, with her hair that was so dark it was almost black.  The color contrasted with her rosy face.  She seemed to be very mild mannered.  He could tell she had loved her father, so much so, she was honoring her father’s arrangement and his wishes.  He wondered if there was another reason her father was insisting she marry him.

Lydia changed the subject and started asking questions about his ranch and his family.  He was grateful to talk about something else and answered her questions.  He also asked her some questions about her life in Chicago, but he knew this situation would need to be addressed before a marriage could take place.  Hopefully, his mother would know the best thing to do.  He tried not to feel disappointed that she might choose not to marry him.

Halfway through the drive, Clinton suggested they eat the food Miss Sally and his housekeeper had prepared and Lydia agreed.  She opened the baskets and found meat sandwiches, apples and some cookies.  She divided the food up between them and they ate in silence as Clinton continued to drive the wagon towards home. 

****

Lydia was pleasantly surprised when they arrived at Clinton’s ranch.  They had turned from the main road down a long dirt lane that had a few large oak trees planted along on either side.  The lane seemed to be about a quarter of a mile long.  Then she saw the ranch.  It was the most beautiful home she had ever seen.  It was a one-level ranch house and it was spread out in kind of a U-shaped design.  It was painted white with gray and blue trim.  There was the same type of oak trees that lined the lane surrounding the home.  Lydia noticed off to the side of the ranch home a very large vegetable garden.  She could tell just by looking that Clinton’s family was very well off.  The home and all the buildings surrounding it were well taken care of.

The wagon stopped in front of the ranch house and Clinton jumped down and turned to help Lydia.  The screen door to the ranch house opened and a teenage girl ran out to meet them, letting the door bang closed behind her. 

“You are finally here!” the girl exclaimed.  “I have been so excited to meet you.”

Lydia smiled at her and looked to Clinton for an introduction. 

“This is my little sister, Jamie,” Clinton said.  “She is excited that another woman will be in the household besides our mother and housekeeper.”

“I am happy to be here,” Lydia said, although she wasn’t sure she meant it.  There have been so many changes in her life in the last month.  She really needed some time to regroup and think things through. 

Jamie linked her arm through Lydia’s and led her to the house.  “Come inside.  Our housekeeper has made some refreshments.  I am sure you are parched, it’s been so hot.”

Lydia allowed Jamie to lead her into the house.  It was surprisingly cool inside.  Clinton was right behind them.  He carried Lydia’s carpetbag and set it down in the entryway. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen.  I can show you to your room later.”  Clinton turned to his sister.  “Where is mother?”

“I think she is in the kitchen with Mrs. Young.  She wanted to make sure the lemonade is fresh.”

Lydia followed Clinton and Jamie down a hallway into a large dining area.  Two women were in the room busily arranging the refreshments.  The older of the women looked up and smiled with delight.

“Hello,” the woman walked up to Lydia and reached for her hand.  “I am Isabelle Byron, Clinton’s mother.  Welcome to our home.”

Lydia smiled and started to feel a comfort she had not felt in a long time.  It looked like she was wanted here.  “Thank you for the kind welcome.  You have a lovely home.  I have never seen anything like it, Mrs. Byron.”

“It keeps us busy, but we are happy here.”  Mrs. Byron led Lydia to the table.  “We have prepared a tea.  Would you like to sit down, or should we show you to your room so you can freshen up first?”

“Actually, what you have here looks delicious,” Lydia replied and sat down.  Clinton sat next to her and Jamie and Mrs. Byron sat across from them.  The housekeeper, Mrs. Young, walked around the table and offered tea or lemonade and Lydia chose the lemonade since it had been a long time since she had had any.  She waited until everyone was served, then took a sip of her drink.  It tasted very refreshing with the just right amount of sugar. 

She loaded her plate with small sandwiches and desserts even though she had enjoyed the food a while ago on the way to the ranch.  Because of everything she had been dealing with, her father’s death and the long trip to Texas, she had not eaten very much and she suddenly was very hungry.

Mrs. Byron started to ask her questions about her train trip.  Since Lydia was wearing a mourning dress, she rightly assumed it was her father who died, and asked about the circumstances around his illness and death.  Soon, Lydia started to feel more at ease in her new surroundings and with these new people that would soon be a big part of her life.

When Lydia had eaten her fill, Clinton asked her for permission to share with his mother and sister what she had told them on the way to the ranch.  Lydia nodded and Clinton proceeded to let them know how Lydia had only recently found out about the arranged marriage to Clinton a few days before her father’s death.  He explained that the circumstances were such that he did not want to hold Lydia to the marriage arrangement. 

“I am so sorry you have had to go through this,” Mrs. Byron said with sympathy.  “I agree with Clinton.  If my husband were still alive, he would have not insisted on this marriage just because of money.  I do want to explain something to you that might help you understand why this arrangement was made, if I may.”

Lydia nodded her agreement and Mrs. Byron continued.  “This arrangement was not made because of money like you might assume from what your father said.  Your father and my husband were close friends in England before we immigrated to America.  Even though they were of different economic stations, they had grown up together. 

“When my husband and I decided to come to America, we wanted your father to come with us, but he was courting your mother and wanted to wait until after their marriage.  Your parents followed us a few years later.”

Lydia nodded.  “Father told me your husband loaned him some money to come to America and to start his tailoring business.”

“He did, but he never thought of it as a loan.  When your father served as a valet to my husband, he was not paid the amount he should have been.  His oldest brother was the keeper of the estate and refused to pay for your father’s services, so my husband paid for what he could out of his own money, but at the time he was not of age and so had not received his inheritance.  He was given an allowance, but it wasn’t much and so he couldn’t pay your father very much.  Because of the friendship between them, your father continued to serve as a valet with very little pay.”

Lydia thought that that sounded like her father.  He had always been willing to help another.  It was very common for her to see him not charge as much as he could have for a tailoring job.  He also would hire a man to work in their shop even though they really didn’t need the help, nor could they really afford to pay the man a fair wage, just because he had needed a job.  He also would sometimes send Lydia to the neighborhood grocery store to purchase food and then would instruct her to take the food to a family in need. 

“George felt by sponsoring your parents and paying for them to come to America, it would be a fair way to pay back the wages your father should have earned.  But your father refused, requesting that it be a loan, including the money to help start his shop.  We actually wanted them to settle here in Texas, but your father had his heart set on owning his own business and settling in a larger city, and so he chose Chicago.”

Clinton spoke up.  “I do know personally that your father was able to repay most of that loan.  I do not think it would be just or fair to hold you to the little that is owed, especially since father had not wanted it to be a loan in the first place.”

“My father was a very proud man,” Lydia responded.  “It would be just like him to insist on repaying the money, but I don’t understand where the arranged marriage comes in.”

“It started out as a joke, really,” Mrs. Byron continued the story.  “In one letter, George suggested that if your father would agree to a marriage between you and Clinton, the loan would be forgiven.  At the time, Clinton was 6 years old.  Your father evidently took the suggestion to heart and eventually the agreement was that the marriage would happen when you were 20 years old.”

As Lydia listened to this side of the story, she admitted to herself that, again, this sounded just like what her father would have done.  He was very willing to help others, but he was very stubborn about accepting help.