Rimfire Bride (29 page)

“It should be about seven thirty, so I’ll come by at seven.”

“I’ll have them ready for you,” Elfrieda promised.

Jana returned to
the store and was almost as euphoric as Benji at the prospect of Drew’s returning. She was waiting on a customer when Mrs. Watson entered the store. She busied herself straightening the glove box until Jana was free.

“My dear, you haven’t forgotten—tomorrow is the date for
The Stranger
.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jana said. “I can hardly wait, but I’m sure if August von Kotzebue were alive, he would have a right to take umbrage with me because I do feel a little proprietary over his words. I must admit, I’m looking forward to seeing the production.”

“You should feel proud. You did a wonderful job, and because of that, I want you to choose any dress in the store to wear tomorrow night,” Mrs. Watson said. “On second thought, this is the one you should wear.”

Mrs. Watson pulled a plain black velvet dress from a hanger. “Put this on. I want to see you in it.”

Jana went to the back room and put on the dress. The long, slender torso fit tightly through the hips. The low-necked polonaise was trimmed with appliqués and jet beads, and the underskirt was made
of black moiré. This dress was the most elegant garment Jana had ever seen, and she would never have chosen it herself, but when she stepped into the store, Mr. Watson gave her an admiring look.

“You’ll be the talk of the town when anyone sees you in that dress. I only wish you were entering the Opera House on the arm of Drew Malone,” Mr. Watson said.

“Oh, I will be. He’s coming in on the evening train.”

“Good. Then I want you to wear this, too.” Mr. Watson withdrew what could only be described as a black velvet dog collar. But this was dotted with diamonds, pearls, and fine flowers made of colored stones. “What do you think, Fern?”

“Perfect,” Mrs. Watson said as she smoothed the dress over Jana’s hips. “Do you think she should wear gloves?”

“I don’t think so. Jana has such lovely hands. Let them show against the black. You do look beautiful, my dear,” Mr. Watson said. “Oh, and one more thing. I want you to wear your hair like this.” He took a drawing he had torn from a newspaper of Empress Elisabeth of Austria, and as he did so, he handed Jana a pearl band. The empress’s hair was falling loose in the back, but the pearl band kept her hair away from her face.

“Mr. Watson, I’m not sure I can do this,” Jana said.

“Nonsense, my dear. How is this any different from what you’ve done for me all along? With the Christmas season behind us, we need to gin up more business.”

Jana took what
she preferred to think of as finery back to her room at the Custer Hotel. For some reason, she did not want Greta to see what she would be wearing, so she hid the dress behind her other clothes.

Mr. Watson was right. What she was being asked to do wasn’t that much different from what she had done before, but for some reason she felt uncomfortable. She felt like a fraud.

The fancy dress had taken away some of her anticipated pleasure from knowing that the actual words to be said at the play were hers. Yes, she had merely translated from the German, but the interpretation was how she had envisioned it. And now, her every move would be scrutinized. She wished she could sit in the poorest seat in the highest location wearing her rose wool dress.

But then she thought of Drew. How would his face look when he saw her in the dress?

At seven o’clock,
Jana opened the iron gate and walked up the path to Drew’s house. Before she reached the door it opened, and Benji and Sam came rushing down to meet her.

“What did you bring?” Benji asked when he spied a large package wrapped in paper.

“It’s a gift.”

“For me?”

“Yes, but it’s also for Sam and for your father. It’s for all of you.”

“How can it be for everybody?”

“Let me show you.” Jana stepped into the foyer and began removing the paper. It was the painting
she had been working on, and she showed it to Benji, and to Sam, who was just as curious.

“It’s Rimfire!” Benji said excitedly. “Did you draw that picture?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a real good picture. You can really draw good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it. I just hope your father likes it.”

“He won’t,” Sam said.

“Yes, he will,” Benji insisted.

“He won’t like it. I know he won’t,” Sam said.

“I think he’ll love it,” Elfrieda said. “While you’re gone to the depot, I’ll find just the right place to hang it, and when your daddy sees it—”

“Thank you, Elfrieda,” Jana interrupted gently, so as not to exacerbate Sam, “but now we’d better hurry. We don’t want to be late, in case the train is early.”

As Jana and
the boys waited in the depot, night had already fallen, and the kerosene lamps, mounted on brackets, cast light on the railroad advertising posters and wanted bills.

The building was pleasantly warmed by a red-glowing, potbellied stove with high-backed benches around it. The room smelled of smoke and tobacco juice, emanating from the spittoons, which were strategically placed on the wide-planked, wooden floor, though that the chewers were less strategic in the placement of their tobacco quid was strongly indicated.

Jana and the boys were seated near the stove
to keep warm. The boys could hardly contain their excitement. Even normally reticent Sam was animated over Drew’s returning home.

“Daddy’s been gone for two whole weeks,” Sam said. “I don’t like it when he’s gone.”

“I don’t like it either,” Benji said. “How many days is two weeks?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

“Sure you do,” Jana said. “How many days are in one week?”

“Seven.”

“So if you have seven days two times, how many days is that?”

“Fourteen!” Sam said, rewarding Jana with what, for him, was a rare smile.

“Let’s go see if we can see the train coming!” Benji suggested, and he and Sam ran to the window that protruded out in a bay with a view of the tracks from both directions.

As the boys stood by the window, Jana looked around the waiting room. A few people seemed to be waiting to board, but others were there, like Jana, to meet someone on the arriving train. Jana had seen such people in depots before, lovingly greeting a spouse or a family member, and always before, that scene had left her feeling profoundly lonely.

But not tonight. Tonight she was one of the people welcoming home a loved one.

Yes,
she thought.
A loved one.

“Jana!” Benji called excitedly. “Here comes the train! I see the light! Can we go outside to wait?”

“It’s cold out there.”

“I don’t care. I want him to see us when he gets off the train.”

“All right. We’ll all wait outside.”

A few minutes later the train rolled into the station, the engine gushing steam and trailing glowing cinders from the firebox. Metal screeched on metal as the great driver wheels were braked and the train came to a stop, the kerosene headlight casting a glistening reflection on the rails.

The conductor was the first one down, then the passengers began to egress. Jana watched a woman greet a male passenger with a hug and a kiss; then an older couple embraced a young woman, who she supposed was their daughter.

Then Colonel Lounsberry and Sheriff McKenzie got off.

“Where’s Daddy?” Benji asked worriedly. “Did he miss the train?”

“No,” Jana said. “There he is. See?”

Drew stood on the top step for just an instant as he looked out over the people gathered on the platform; then, when he saw Jana and his two sons, he smiled and started toward them.

“Daddy!” Benji yelled, running toward him, and Sam went as well.

Drew hugged both boys. “Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am to be home, and how much I missed you two.”

Then, seeing Jana, he walked over to her as well. “They aren’t the only ones I missed.” He hugged and kissed her, just as all the returning husbands hugged and kissed their wives.

J
ana
dressed quickly in the black velvet gown. It was as if she thought she could ignore what she looked like if she didn’t dwell on it. She had stepped out into the hall when she remembered that she was to wear her hair like the empress. Returning to the room, she released her chignon, letting her ash-blond hair fall down her back, then she worked some waves around her face, anchoring them in place with the pearl band. As she looked at herself in the mirror over the dresser, she was struck by how different she looked.

She thought she actually looked pretty, an adjective she seldom applied to herself. Jana began to pinch her cheeks to add some color, then she applied a little petroleum jelly onto her eyelids, causing them to glisten. Grabbing her cloak and taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hallway.

When she went down the stairs, she had planned to gauge Drew’s reaction to her, but she
couldn’t. She was too busy reacting to him. Drew was wearing a black tailcoat and trousers, a gray vest, a wingtip shirt, and a silk puff tie. This was the first time Jana had ever seen any man in formal attire, and surely there could be no one more handsome and more elegant than this man standing before her.

Jana was so struck by it that she stopped at the bottom step to stare for a long moment. Gradually she realized that he was appraising her with the same intensity and appreciation as she was him.

Drew spoke first. “Jana, no princess in any fairy tale could possibly be more beautiful than you. I feel sorry for the poor player who struts and frets his brief hour upon the stage tonight, for surely all eyes in the house will be on you.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Shakespeare.” Jana smiled, thankful that the repartee had eased her nervousness. “And surely the great bard was never as well turned out as the gentleman who is to be my escort tonight.”

Drew helped Jana into her cloak, then put on his coat and offered his arm. “Come, princess, your carriage awaits.”

“My carriage?”

“Yes, I hired a carriage and driver for the night. I’m sure that you would agree with me that one shouldn’t attend an event like this in a mere wagon.”

As they rode to the Opera House, Drew took Jana’s hand in his, then raised it to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“Thank you for asking me to attend the play with you. Thank you for bringing the boys to the depot to meet me. Thank you for looking as beautiful as you do tonight, which fills me with pride to be your escort. And thank you for that wonderful painting of Rimfire. Jana, you could not have imagined a better gift. It will always have a place of honor, not only in my home, but in my heart.”

“And I thank you for the invitation to the ranch that inspired me to do the painting.”

“Inspired, yes. The painting is truly an inspired work.” Drew put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, and they rode like that for the rest of the way to the theater.

After a few minutes the coach stopped, then the driver jumped down and opened the door to the carriage.

“Chancy, I think this shindig is over at ten. Will you pick us up then?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Malone, I’ll be here,” the driver replied.

Drew and Jana followed the others into the theater. They started toward the orchestra level, but Linda Steward, the president of the Ladies’ Christian Union, stopped them.

“No, dear,” she said, smiling. “We have a box seat reserved for you.”

The box was the one nearest the stage, affording them an excellent view of both the play and the audience.

Della Peterson had
the leading role, that of Mrs. Haller, and she was costumed so as to show off
her figure. Foster Suett, a post-office employee, was playing the role of Peter. Late in the second act now, they were the only two onstage.

The play described the miseries that the dishonor of an adulterous wife can cause. It continued for three acts, with Della projecting her dialogue loudly, with self-importance, until her final line.

The curtain closed to thunderous applause; then, one by one, the players came to take their curtain calls, with Della Peterson being last.

As she stood there, making what seemed to be endless curtsies and blowing kisses to the audience, Sam Whitney came onstage to present her with a large bouquet of roses.

After the play,
Jana was told of the reception for the cast and staff of the production, and Linda Steward insisted that Jana should attend.

“Oh, no, I appreciate the invitation,” Jana said, “but the reception should be for the actors who made this such a success, and for those who worked behind the scenes and produced the play.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Steward said. “There wouldn’t have been a play without you. You should be at the party.”

“I’m here with Mr. Malone.”

“But of course, he’s invited, too.”

“Drew?” Jana asked.

“Mrs. Steward is right, Jana. You did have a part in the success of the evening. If you hadn’t been able to translate the script, this play may not have been the one produced.”

“Good. Then that’s settled. Come to my house as
soon as you can. My husband will be there to greet you if I’m not able to get away quick enough.”

When Jana and
Drew stepped into the rather commodious parlor of the Steward home, several people were gathered around Della Peterson, all of them complimenting her on her performance. She was accepting all the accolades as if they were her due, occasionally condescending to bestow her own congratulations to the other actors, without whom, as she pointed out, her own role would have had no meaning.

“I may have been the bright moon, but what is a night without the twinkling of starlight, which but adds only more to the beauty of the moon’s luster?”

She had just completed her paean to the lesser luminaries of the play when she saw Jana and Drew come into the room.

“Miss Hartmann,” Della called out. “I’m sorry, but this is a private celebration for those of us who had speaking roles or were stagehands. The audience was not invited, dear. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”