Love's abiding joy (Love Comes Softly #4) (5 page)

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She stood to her feet and nodded her head. There was no use denying what Clark had just said. He knew her far too well.

"I'm ready now," she said. "An', yes, I could be usin' some breakfast."

Clark offered his arm, checked his safe-in-hand watch, and chuckled again.

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Chapter Six

The Journey Begins

At the train station, Marty was sure she had never seen so many people all in one place. Her eyes and ears were busy picking up the new sights and sounds all around her. Clark found a bench on which she could wait and went to make final arrangements for their journey. Marty was content to sit and watch. She had never seen such an array of strange and colorful dress. Why, even the menfolk looked like they belonged on the pages of some storybook!

Even though they still had lots of time before the train was due to leave the station, Clark had been right: Marty would not really rest easy until she was actually seated on the train and assured that its engine was pulling them westward. So, in spite of her interest in the crowd, she fidgeted and was glad when she saw Clark moving back across the room.

A rather bold-looking woman with bright copper hair and a broad-brimmed, scarlet-plumed hat sat across from Marty. To Marty's surprise, the red-haired woman also noticed Clark. The woman peeked out at his approach from under long, kohl

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darkened lashes and watched Clark approach. Then Marty saw the woman slyly and deliberately drop a glove at her own feet and pretend to again busy herself with the book that she held before her face. As Clark reached the "lost" glove, he bent, gentleman-like, recovered it, and then glanced around to see who its owner might be. Marty saw the redhead steal a very small peek, and then her eyelashes began to flutter; Marty knew that she was about to make her presence known to Clark in some cute little speech.

Marty stood up quickly and spoke before the lady in the hat had time to open her mouth. "Everythin' set, Clark? Oh, a glove. Perhaps it belongs to you, ma'am." Marty turned to the redhead with a very sweet and winning smile. "It matches your hat perfectly."

The lady accepted her glove without comment. Marty moved away, taking Clark's arm and steering him to a seat nearer the exit door.
I can't imagine the brazenness of these city women,
she was declaring inwardly.
They'd steal a woman's husband right out from under her very nose. Why, thet's even worse than takin' a watch!
Clark remained unaware of the small commotion.

Someone finally called, "All aboard for points west," and Marty quickly stood and shook the wrinkles from her skirt and straightened her hat. Clark gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and they moved with the crowd toward the waiting train.

Marty, having never been on a train before, was both excited and apprehensive. She found the high steps awkward to maneuver with her long skirts and was glad for Clark's helping hand as she climbed up.

Inside the train car, the rows and rows of seats were not as elegant as Marty had imagined they would be. The plush fabric was faded and even a little frayed in spots. Marty assumed that the fancier trains would run between the large eastern cities.

They were jostled a bit as they sought for a seat. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to find a place, as though they were afraid the train might leave without them. Clark and Marty found a seat quickly enough. They settled themselves and

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tucked their carry-along luggage under the seat. Marty sighed deeply. They had made it. Now if only she could get a glimpse of the sun to make sure that this train was pointed in the right direction.

Gradually the commotion around them began to subside as other passengers selected seats as well. Marty noticed that they were in very mixed company, though not too many women had boarded the train. The men appeared to be of every type and class--from businessmen to cattlemen, from miners to farmers like themselves, drifters and youngsters running away from home.

Marty shuddered inwardly as the scarlet plumes moved down the aisle and the red-headed woman, with skirts hoisted and eyelashes fluttering, took a seat. She had selected a spot far from the other womenfolk in the car, among the men who had already pulled out a deck of cards and made themselves a makeshift table. Great drifts of cigar and cigarette smoke already blurred the air around them. Marty hoped there would be no smokers in her area, but it was a vain hope. Not being used to smoke at all, Marty found it particularly trying. Were they to endure this all the way to Missie's? Already she felt about ready to choke, and they hadn't even left the station yet.

The train gave a long, low sound like an anguished groan, and the squeaking wheels began to revolve slowly. They were on the way at last. To Marty's chagrin, she still couldn't tell if they were headed in the right direction.

Gradually the train began to pick up momentum. The rough-looking buildings on the back streets of the town moved past them hurriedly now. Marty watched carriages and horsemen pulled up on side streets waiting for the train to pass by. Some of the horses stomped and reared, not liking one bit the angry-sounding, smoke-blowing engine. Children called and waved, and dogs barked; but the train moved on, unresponsive to it all.

They left the town behind and moved out into the open countryside. Marty could not draw her gaze away from the window. Trees swished by them; cattle lifted tails and ran off

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bawling; horses snorted and swung away, blowing angrily, tails and manes flying. Still the train pounded on, wheels clickity-clacking and smokestack spewing forth great billows.

It's
a
wonder, thet's what it is,
thought Marty.
Why, I bet we're goin"bout as fast as a horse can gallop, an' nobody needs to lift a finger fer the doin' of it.

The crewman stoking the firebox was, fortunately, unaware of Marty's thoughts. Had he known of them, he would have been glad for an opportunity to show her whose muscle and hard work made possible the forward speed of the train.

Marty finally took her eyes from the passing countryside long enough to look at Clark. She was interested in his reaction to this new experience. To her amazement, she found that Clark had settled himself comfortably and, with head leaning back against the makeshift package of their lunch bundle, he slept soundly as though sleep was the full purpose of a train ride.

"Well, I never," mumbled Marty under her breath and then smiled. She should be sleeping, too. The past few days had been most trying, and the sleep that she had gotten in the last few nights was limited indeed. Clark was wise. He too was tired. He needed the rest. She'd try as well. But, in spite of her resolve, she could not as yet get her body to relax. She'd just watch the scenery for a while. Maybe she could sleep later.

Marty must have slept, for she aroused at the sound of a crying baby. It took her a few moments to get her bearings, and then excitement again filled her as she recalled that they were on the way to Missie.

The baby continued to cry. Marty opened her eyes and turned toward Clark, when she remembered that he had been sleeping, too. She didn't want to disturb him if he hadn't wakened yet. But when she looked, he was not there. For a moment, she was unnerved. Where could one disappear to on a moving train? Remembering the "lost-watch" scare of the morning, she told herself that Clark would not be far away and not to get in a dither.

The coach was even more blue with smoke than it had been when she had dropped off to sleep. It was hot and stuffy, too,

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and Marty longed for some fresh, pure air. She gazed about her at the crowded coach. The poker game was still going on at the far end of the car. The redhead had removed her brilliant hat, and she no longer sat alone. A distinguished gentleman in a fancy suit and frilly shirt was sitting with her. They laughed a lot as they talked.

The crying baby was in the seat across the aisle. The poor mother already looked tired out. She had two other little ones as well. The man who accompanied her growled to her to "hush the kid 'fore we git throwed off the train," and the woman tried even harder. The baby was not to be placated. The man got up and, muttering to himself, left angrily. This started another one of the children crying, and the young mother really had her hands full. Marty moved to leave her seat and go to the woman's aid, but a matronly looking woman arrived first.

"Can I help you some?" she asked, and, without waiting for a reply, she took the crying baby. "You care for your son, and I'll try to get the baby to sleep."

Marty's heart went out to the young mother, and she said a quick prayer of thanks for the kind, motherly soul who was helping.

The baby soon was sleeping. Marty wondered if perhaps the young mother had bundled her too tightly and the poor little infant was nearly smothering in the discomfort of the sun- heated coach.

Marty laid aside her own hat and tried to fan her flushed face.
What I wouldn't give to be able to go fer a walk,
she thought.
Sure would feel good to have a little wind on one's face.

Clark returned. Marty's relief showed in her eyes. "Feelin' a little better?" Clark asked.

"I did sleep some, an' it sure didn't do me no harm. Would be nice to cool off a mite. This here coach is so stuffy an' so filled with cigar smoke, I feel like I was a-travelin' in a saloon 'stead of a--"

"Now what you be knowin"bout a saloon?"

"I don't, it's jest--" But Clark was laughing at her.

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"Where ya been?" asked Marty to change the conversation.

"Jest stretchin' my legs some. Ain't much of a place to walk, thet's fer sure. Jest back an' forth, back an' forth. S'pose it helped a little."

"What I wouldn't give fer a walk 'bout now," said Marty. "Ya want fer me to ask 'em to stop the train an' let ya off fer a spell?"

"Clark . . ."

Clark stopped his teasing.

"What time is it, anyway?" asked Marty.

Clark pulled out his pocket watch.

"Well, it's almost noon. Quarter of twelve, in fact."

Marty sighed heavily. "Thought thet it would be at least late afternoon," she said. "Seems like we been travelin' fer half of forever already."

Clark smiled.

"How many days did ya say we'd be on the train?" "Reckon they didn't say fer sure. They was rather offhand about arrivin' time. Said thet the trip usually took 'bout a week--dependin' on the weather, the track, an' such."

"A week! I'm a-thinkin' thet we'll have us enough of this

train by the time thet week is over."

"Well, now, I didn't say
this
train, exactly. This train we leave in three days' time. We transfer to another one. This one is usually on time to where it's a-goin'. It's the one further on thet's some changeable."

"I didn't know thet we would be usin' another train. What'll it be like?"

"I'm not rightly sure. Only thing I know, it seems a bit unpredictable. But it won't be so bad. By the time we board her, we'll already be in the West an' almost there."

Marty suddenly felt hungry. "Anythin' still fittin' to eat in thet there pillow of yourn?"

Clark passed her the lunch. It hadn't suffered much. Ellie had packed it well.

Marty lifted out a box that held sandwiches. "Sure would be glad fer a nice hot cup of tea or coffee," she commented.

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"I think thet I might be able to find some," and Clark left his seat, walked down the aisle and out the swinging door. He was soon back with two steaming mugs of hot coffee. It was too strong for Marty's liking, but it was coffee and it did wash the smoke taste from her throat.

They finished their lunch with a couple of tarts, and Marty carefully repacked the lunch sack.

"Ya know, ya could stretch yer legs a bit iffen ya like to. Seed other women movin"bout some. Little room down thet way."

Marty smiled her thanks and stood up. She couldn't believe how wrinkled her dress looked in just one morning. She tried to smooth the wrinkles out but they stubbornly remained, so she shrugged her shoulders in resignation and moved out into the aisle.

Marty had been vaguely aware of the rock and sway of the train as she sat in her seat, but she had had no idea how decided it was until she took a step forward; the train suddenly seemed to lurch, throwing her off balance. She quickly put out a foot to re-balance herself when the train rolled the other way, leaving her startlingly off-balance again. Each place she went to put her foot was either too high or too low. She felt like a drunken sailor as she wobbled her way down the aisle. At last she gave up trying to make it on her own and firmly grasped the seats as she moved forward. It seemed to be a long walk to the "little room," and by the time Marty had made it back to Clark, she had had enough of train-aisle walking for the time.

The train hooted and chugged, whined and rocked its way westward. Marty viewed more than one sunrise and sunset and was happily content that the train was truly headed in the right direction.

They stopped at small towns to let off or take on passengers. Sometimes the train seemed to sit for a ridiculously long time while train cars were shuffled and shouting men hauled off or on some sort of cargo. At these times Clark and Marty would leave the train and walk, strolling around just to get the