Train Station Bride Page 2

  South Dakota 1887

  Jake Shelling stood in the doorway of his home and breathed a sigh of relief and happiness as his youngest sister rolled away in the wagon. Gloria was twenty, married a year and expecting her first child in the fall. Her happiness had been the last remaining item on his mental list, finally clearing a path for his own plans since his sisters’ upbringing had fallen to him when their parents had both died of influenza. Jake could still picture himself at the ripe old age of sixteen holding his sisters’ hands as men lowered their mother and father’s caskets into the bleak South Dakota prairie.

  Flossie was nine the day they had died and Gloria a mere three-years-old. The first five years from that day had been the hardest he would have sworn at the time. A barely cleared farm, a half-built house and no relatives nearby to help. Years later he would have said the worst time was when Flossie went to her first dance and Gloria’s husband Will had begun hanging around.

  Jake had made it through his sister’s suitors, blizzards and a rocky start to where he found himself now. Thirty-three years old and just beginning to think about what he wanted to do for himself. The land had fulfilled a dream just as his father had promised and had provided money in the bank, as well as dowries for his sisters.

  Jake turned down the hallway of his two-story farmhouse and headed for the kitchen. No rug padded his feet, and no pictures or heirlooms hung on the walls. The sitting room he passed held two horsehair chairs in front of an unlit fireplace. Doo-dads weren’t necessary; he told Flossie when she scolded him about the state of their parent’s home. His sister was always trying to brighten things up with curtains and pictures, but Jake wanted none of it. His now deadly quiet house was where he slept and ate. He didn’t need throw pillows to accomplish that.

  But he had decided what it did need. A woman. He supposed he would let her fuss a bit if she had to, buying fabric and gewgaws. But they weren’t going to get in the way of his plan. A woman to cook and mend and a son to pass his years of sacrifice and work on to. His sisters’ husbands had farms of their own, and when Jake let himself wallow, he imagined his own burial with his nieces and nephews standing at the graveside wondering what to do with the barren house and farm of their uncle’s other than to sell it to a stranger.

  Jake Shelling had no intention of letting his parent’s graves and legacy fall into the hands of a buyer that was not of his parent’s stock. He would have a son, regular meals, sex without buying it and someone to work the farm towards a common goal. Yep, marriage was going to suit him just fine, Jake thought as he poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee. This time.

  Shortly after Gloria’s wedding last spring he had arranged to marry a woman, a cousin of his closest neighbor. Valerie Morton had been reported to be an attractive, hard-working woman ready to tie the knot. He had let himself hope to find some of the happiness his sisters had with their husbands. Not love necessarily but comfort and companionship. It was not meant to be. Valerie Morton had married the owner of the Brass Jug Saloon on her trip to be Jake’s bride.

  So much for the exchanged letters and promises. He’d been embarrassed to realize he’d never given a thought to the possibility that his intended would not hold true to her word. The day he received her letter saying she would marry him, he’d considered her part of his family. Valerie Morton didn’t honor commitments the same way he and his sisters always had. He had misplaced his trust and been sorely disappointed.

  But this time, he had planned better. Jake ordered a bride from Sweden of all places he thought to himself and chuckled. A young widow with no children, wanting to make America her home. He supposed he could live with not being able to understand what his wife was saying as long as she was as strong and reliable as the agency in New York reported. So he had sent three hundred dollars four months ago and his bride, all six foot of her, was to arrive tomorrow. A tall woman wouldn’t bother him, he imagined. She wouldn’t be taller than him after all.

  Flossie and Gloria had scolded him something awful, and his brothers-in-law, Will and Harry, had laughed till they cried when Jake told them of his plans. He told Pastor Phillips to meet him at the station at three o’clock on Friday. He was going to marry Inga Crawper at the railway platform before the B & O chugged away. And he was hoping and praying Miss Crawper’s eight brothers were proof of a good chance of having sons. He didn’t want daughters, that he knew for certain. Jake didn’t think he would live through someone courting his child. It had been hard enough with Gloria and Flossie. Yep, things were going to work out just fine.

  Chapter Two

  “There is no need for you to come to the train station, Mother,” Julia said.

  Her last few days in her parents’ home had crept by. Finally it was time to begin the plan Julia had put into motion so many months ago. But now, her palms were sweating and her heart racing, and it wasn’t entirely due to riding a train for three days and marrying a man she had never met. Jane Crawford had announced she would ride to the station with Julia and have Tom, their stable man, take her to town for some shopping on the same trip. Eustace stood in the doorway of the morning room. If Jane Crawford went to the train station, she would know Julia’s ticket was for South Dakota, not Delaware bound for Aunt Mildred’s.

  “Mrs. Crawford. I . . . I’ve lost the menus we went over yesterday. I’m sorry but Cook needs to order for the weekend, and I can’t remember everything you told me about the dinner party on Monday,” Eustace said.

  “Really, Eustace. How clumsy of you. Where did you put the list?” Jane Crawford asked.

  “I’ve looked everywhere for it, Ma’am. I just can’t find it,” Eustace replied.

  Jane Crawford’s face was pinched and sour, as it always was when any detail of living like an unintentionally misplaced list interfered with her plans. Especially when it involved a servant. Julia knew her mother would make Eustace’s life miserable in small ways, and she appreciated the sacrifice. Most likely Jane Crawford would find an excuse to need Eustace on Sunday and keep the woman from visiting her sickly mother.

  “I’m sure Eustace didn’t lose the list on purpose. Accidents do happen, Mother. Stay here and help her rewrite it, and I’ll send Tom back from the station as quickly as I can. You’ll be able to shop all afternoon. Maybe Jolene will be done with her committee meeting and go with you,” Julia said.

  Jane Crawford blew a breath through her tiny nose. “Jolene does need to order new outfits for William. I suppose I can wait. But I do hate for you to stand unattended at the train depot, Julia.”

  “No one will carry me away at nine o’clock in the morning, Mother,” Julia said as she pulled on her lace gloves.

  Jane arched her brows but relented. “I suppose not. Although it is unseemly.” She straightened her skirts and looked at Julia. “You are packed?”

  “Tom has everything in the carriage already. I said goodbye to Jennifer and to . . .” Julia took a deep breath and continued, “and to Jillian. I kissed Father goodbye last night and sent a note off to Jolene.” Julia stood and swallowed a lump of fear in her throat. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Well, fine then, dear,” Jane said and tilted her cheek up for a kiss. “Tell your Aunt Mildred we said hello.”

  Julia walked to her mother slowly, smelling the scent of roses wafting to her as she approached. She knew there were tears in her eyes but could do nothing but keep walking. Julia bent, put her mouth near her mother’s ear. “Goodbye, Mother. Take care of . . . of everyone.”

  Jane Crawford tilted her head and eyed Julia suspiciously. “You’re only going for a week, Julia. No need to get emotional. I’ll have Tom at the station next Friday.”

  Julia smiled and nodded. “Of course, Mother. I’ll see you very soon then.”

  Julia walked from the sitting room and hugged Eustace tightly where the woman stood waiting anxiously in the hallway. She could smell the starch in Eustace’s black uniform.

  “Thank you, Eustace, for everything,” she whispered.


  Eustace choked back a sob. “Everything’s going to work out for you, girl. You just wait and see.”

  “I love you,” Julia said. Eustace nodded, and Julia pulled away without looking at the face she had come to treasure. She hurried down the hallway and didn’t stop till old Tom had her safely seated in the carriage. The last thing she heard as she exited her home of twenty-seven years was Eustace’s compliance to Jane Crawford’s insistence that all of the silver in the household would need polished Sunday afternoon. The last thing she saw from the carriage window was Jillian’s face pressed tightly to the glass of the second story bedroom window as the child waved goodbye.

  * * *

  Friday arrived clear and warm, and Jake went to the bunkhouse to tell Slim he was leaving for the day. They reviewed what was to be done while one of the hands hitched the wagon. Just as Jake thought he’d made a clear get away, he saw Flossie riding into the yard. Jake stood beside the wagon till she rode up close. She slapped her hat on her leg, releasing a cloud of dust, and slid down the side of her horse in one smooth motion.

  “You’re going through with this crazy plan of yours, aren’t you?” Flossie asked.

  “Where’s the kids?” Jake replied.

  “Don’t you go changing the subject on me, Jake Shelling. You can’t fool me. Never could.”

  Jake tilted his hat back and sat his hands on his hips. He looked out on the horizon. “What do you want me to do, Floss? I’m not getting any younger.”

  “I’ve tried to introduce you to some nice women, Jake. You never even call on them,” she replied.

  “I don’t have time to go wandering all over the countryside, carrying flowers and picking up hankies. I need a wife and a son. And a decent cook if I’m lucky. I don’t need a love match like Gloria and Will.”

  “Like Gloria and Will?” Flossie asked.

  “You know what I mean, Floss. Harry suits you and you suit him, but he didn’t stand around mooney-eyed reading poetry. You needed a husband, Harry needed a wife, and you two seem to do just fine.”

  Flossie barked a laugh. “You still don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?” Jake asked.

  “Harry and I did plenty of courting, including more than just kissing right there behind that barn,” Flossie said and pointed. “Even some poetry and flowers. Just because Harry and I don’t hang all over each other in public like Gloria and Will doesn’t mean there isn’t something special about what we do with each other and for each other in private.”

  Jake looked away and made a face like he had just eaten a bite of green apple. “Jeez, Flossie, don’t tell me this stuff.”

  “I’m not talking about the marriage bed,” Flossie said. “I’m talking about love. Cripes sakes, anyway, Jake, you were the one that told me about getting my monthly courses. Did you think we had Danny and Millie without going to bed together?”

  “I try not to think about it, Floss.”

  Flossie shook her head. “Here you’ve gone and changed the subject. The problem is you’re going to the train station and dragging the minister to marry a woman you’ve never even seen. You don’t know anything about her.”

  “I knew plenty about Valerie Morton. That didn’t get me a bride,” Jake responded with a grim smile.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sakes. When are you going to get it that not all woman are lying, pieces of uppity fluff like Miss Valerie Morton?” Flossie shouted.

  “I don’t know if I ever will, Floss. I put a lot of thinking and planning into that woman, and it didn’t work out. I don’t want to do it again. The agency in New York guaranteed me Inga Crawper would arrive at the station unwed.”

  Flossie closed the distance between herself and her brother. “I know you don’t want to be disappointed. I don’t want you to. You spent your whole life making sure Gloria and I had everything we needed and didn’t spend much time on yourself. But that doesn’t mean you won’t meet a woman you could love. That would make you happy. I want you to be happy, Jake.”

  “If you want me to be happy, let me get to the train station on time, Flossie. This is what I want,” Jake replied.

  “Harry and I and the kids will be over about six o’clock. Gloria and Will, too. If this is what you want, we intend to welcome this Inga to the family the right way. Even if she won’t understand a damn word we say.”

  Jake kissed Flossie on the cheek. “I imagine you’ll make her understand. You’ve never had too much trouble getting your point across. I can’t see a little problem like a foreign language stopping you. Now get on home before Harry sees you riding alone. You got your six-shooter, don’t you?”

  Flossie climbed in the saddle, blew a kiss to Jake and turned her horse towards home. “I’ll be careful. Harry knows where I was going. I left him in the barn holding Millie, hollering his head off. I imagine he’ll be about done screaming by the time I get back.”

  * * *

  Jake was whistling a tune by the time he pulled into town. It was a glorious day, he was going to be married, and his sister had come to terms with his decision. If Flossie accepted Inga, then the rest of the family would follow suit. That was a load off Jake’s mind. Nothing, not this marriage, nor the land or his parent’s graves, were as important to Jake as family. He would have died before letting anything happen to Flossie or Gloria and Millie and Danny. He imagined that sentiment extended to Harry and Will as well. And he knew Gloria and Flossie felt the same way. They would make Inga’s transition smooth and would learn to love her even if he didn’t. It was how his family worked. The result of three children left alone to defend and feed themselves on the prairie. Through tornadoes, hunger, and grief they had never deserted each other.

  Chapter Three

  Julia’s train trip was dirty and hot. But she did enjoy looking out the window at the changing scenery and tried not to dwell on what she had left behind. She would arrive in a few hours in the town of Cedar Ridge.

  Early that morning she had carried her valise to the water closet. She had rinsed her mouth and changed her dress and underclothes in the small room. It had been a battle nearly lost in the tiny, bouncing cupboard. But she was seated now and cooled down in the breeze in a pale yellow, cinched waist organdy dress. Julia had repined her hair and settled a matching yellow hat with chin-length netting that covered her whole face. For the trip she had forgone the heavy boning under her traveling suit, but this morning had managed to get a full set of petticoats, corsets and stays in the right place. Julia certainly didn’t want Mr. Snelling to meet her dressed in less than the proper way. She needed to make a good impression. There would be no going back.

  Jane Crawford would be proud, Julia thought with a wry smile. I will manage to arrive in a prairie town looking every inch the proper Boston lady. Matching hat, gloves and reticule. A fitted, fashionable gown that showed off her pale coloring to the best effect. She had managed to hold back tears most of the trip. As the conductor called out Cedar Ridge, she did not know if she could any longer. She refused to admit to herself she was scared to death. Petrified. Of a new town far away from everyone and everything she ever knew. A man. A marriage. All the things she was sure she wanted.

  Julia forced a smile to her face and imagined meeting her future husband for the first time. If she held her purse strings tight enough, Mr. Snelling would never see how badly her hands shook. If she pulled the yellow netting down over her chin, demurely, he would never see her lips tremble and the terror in her eyes. She would nod and speak little so he did not hear the tremor in her voice. She would meet his mother and settle into the small house with her. Maybe Mr. Snelling would take her to dinner tonight. Begin to get to know each other before their wedding next Saturday. Dear Lord, she thought, I’ll be married next Saturday.

  The train began to slow down, and Julia could see from the window a huge crowd of people milling about. Banners were hung, and she thought she could hear the blare of an Oompah band. It looked as though the train tracks ran right through the middle of a town
that sprawled out in all directions and was larger than she had expected. Her mouth was dry and her nerves shakier with each slowing chug of the train and each passing street sign. Finally the locomotive stopped with a loud steamed belch, and other passengers stood up in the aisle. Julia rose, took a deep breath and wondered what had ever prompted her to reply to Mr. Snelling’s ad.

  Julia stood on the step of the train and looked at the vast crowd of people. Her departure from her lifetime home was the least of her problems at this moment. How would she ever find Mr. Snelling in this crush?

  The conductor shouted in her ear that her trunks and bags were being deposited on the boardwalk, one car down. Julia thanked him and hurried to find her things. It was difficult, working her way through the throng especially being at best shoulder height with some of the shorter men and women. She found her leather strapped trunk and her other bags and planted herself beside them, looking through the mob for a fiftyish, balding, thin man. It was impossible. She couldn’t see further than a lapel. She stood on tiptoe with no better results. Julia had to get a better view but didn’t want to leave her luggage to find a higher vantage point.

  Julia stared down at her trunk. Glory hallelujah. Her trunk. She would stand on it and have a clear view of all the faces milling about. Her mother and Jolene would have a fit if they knew what she was thinking of doing. Better though to imagine their censure than find herself east bound if she couldn’t find Mr. Snelling. She had no doubt her father would be sending someone to escort her home. Julia had to be married when that day arrived.