Patience: Bride of Washington (American Mail Order Bride 42) (14 page)

Lydia took Ophelia’s hand. “Are you recovered enough to walk to the station?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She put lie to her words by wobbling as she stood.

Josephine knew her friend was far from well and grasped her arm.

Lydia watched Ophelia. “Hmm, I hope so. At least when we’ve boarded, you’ll have a bed and can lie down. We’ve a private car for the trip to Fort Worth. I’m afraid we have to travel by stage after that but by then you should be feeling better.”

She gestured to gather them together. “Come, ladies, we must be on our way.”

Josephine didn’t relax until they were safely on board. The car was luxurious and nothing like the one they’d ridden from Possum Corner. Once the train started moving, she spotted her father running along the platform peering at the train windows. She ducked and tugged Ophelia down with her.

“Papa’s out there,” she whispered and slipped off her ring. Aloud, she said, “I dropped my grandmother’s ring. Please help me find it.” They looked around the floor until enough time had elapsed that they were away from the station.

“Oh, thank heavens, here it is.” She pretended to pick up something and slipped her ring back on her finger.

She and Ophelia sat up and the other girls stopped helping with the search. Josephine hated she’d had to lie, but if Papa had seen her, he could have stopped the train or had it met at the next station by that town’s sheriff. He’d know Ophelia wasn’t supposed to be there, either.

Ophelia had barely survived the beating for spilling a little milk. If Mr. Shipp were really angry, if he thought Ophelia had sinned by stealing money, he would beat her until she couldn’t recover. His religious zeal had nothing to do with any Bible verses Josephine had read.

Josephine’s father had no religion and Mr. Shipp had too much. Pity they couldn’t meet in the middle. No matter, now each girl was free of her father.  

Used to keeping books, cleaning house, gardening, and cooking for her father plus the mending she did for neighbors, the train ride’s ease relaxed her. The constant rocking motion sang to her, “You’re free. You’re free. You’re free.” She wasn’t actually, but she was on her way.

Pretending a megrim, Ophelia stayed in bed the first day of the trip. On a pretense of helping her friend’s headache, Josephine slipped her a wet cloth and bathed the oozing welts left by her father’s strap. Scars from other beatings marred her skin. As if she understood, Lydia discreetly handed Josephine a jar of unguent for Ophelia’s back.

In St. Louis, they had a layover of several hours, so the girls were allowed to stroll around the area near the station. All the girls kept together as they walked through shops. Josephine bought a lovely brown satin blouse and darker brown skirt at a very reasonable price to replace the one the mayor had ruined. Her clothes were so worn she hated to meet a potential employer wearing what she’d brought with her.

In the same store, Ophelia purchased a simple brown dress covered in pink, blue, and white flowers. Although it wasn’t elegant, the floral pattern was perfect for her gentle friend. Each of the girls shopped, but the other four girls made only small or no purchases.   

When they returned to the station, Lydia and Sophie waited with an elegantly dressed young woman. In spite of the fact the girl’s attire spoke of wealth, she carried two cases with no trunk visible.

“Ladies, this is Angeline Chandler. She’ll be going to Tarnation with us. Shall we board our car?”

There were only eight bunks, so Josephine wondered who would be out of luck. Surely the newcomer, since the others had already staked a claim for the trip. She should have known a woman with Lydia’s resources would not be thwarted by one addition. Soon the porter arranged a chair so that it folded into a bed. He provided a pillow and linens and showed them how to change the flat surface into an elevated one.

Angeline sank onto the chair-bed. “Thank you so much, Lydia. I believe I could sleep for a week.”

Lydia chuckled. “Not with eight other women in the car, dear. You’re most welcome to try, though.”

The train gained speed and soon they were across the river and chugging through the countryside.

Lydia leaned back and smiled. “Tarnation, here we come!”

About the Author

Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling author of historical and contemporary western romances whose books have garnered numerous awards. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.

Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, oil painting, and getting together with friends. Find her on her
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