Rimfire Bride (34 page)

Drew laughed. “I’ll give you this, Antoine, you don’t think small.”

“My dear boy, you have no idea. I need money—more than you can imagine—because my ultimate goal is to revive the royal house in France, with me as the monarch.”

Drew whistled and shook his head. “Like I said, you don’t think small.”

“Drew?” The summons came from the station master, who had stepped out of the depot to call him.

“Yes, Clem?”

“There was a telegram come for you, a couple of days ago. Did you get it?”

“No. Did it get to Rimfire?”

“It did. But I expected you to be outa here on last night’s train.”

“It was that bad?”

“It was. I’ll get it for you.”

Drew followed Clem Pittman into the depot with a feeling of trepidation. Something was very wrong.

Clem shook his head as he handed the telegram to Drew. “It’s too bad, Mr. Malone. I’ve seen those two little tykes, and they’re good boys.”

Drew read the telegram, his heart beating wildly.

“That damn woman! I’ll tear her apart limb by limb.” He stomped out of the depot.

“Is there a problem?” de Morès asked.

“You’re damned right there’s a problem. My boys are on their way to Evanston, Illinois, and I’ll go to hell and back to bring them home.”

Jana was standing
at the front window when Drew returned, arriving in front of the house in a hired spring wagon. He jumped down from the wagon before it actually stopped and strode quickly up to the house. Jana moved away from the window and was standing just inside the door when Drew came in. The expression on his face was unlike anything she had ever before seen, a cross between anger and despair.

Jana’s throat felt tight and her lips were dry. Nervously she moistened them.

“How could you let this happen? Where are my sons?” Drew demanded, a chill to his words.

“They’re with the Dentons.”

“And you just gave them to them? How could you do that?”

“I didn’t just give them Sam and Benji.”

“Well, what would you call it then? They aren’t here, are they?”

“Drew, I’m so sorry.”

Drew’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed. “And you think that’s enough. Elfrieda would have stood up to those people. I know she wouldn’t have given them up.”

“I didn’t just give them up. I went to get Frank, and I tried to find Sheriff McKenzie, but neither of them was in his office.”

“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am with you, Jana.”

“Drew,” Jana said as a knot formed in her throat, “I’m sorry. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

“You’re sorry, but they’re gone. Well, they won’t be gone long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to go get them and bring them home.” Drew sighed and ran his hand through his hair. His mouth was tightly drawn, and a little throb was in his cheek. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left them with you.”

“Drew, you aren’t being fair.”

“Fair? What’s fair about it? My children have been taken from me, and you stood by and watched it happen.”

“I didn’t just stand by and watch it happen.”

“Well, Miss Hartmann, what would you say happened?” Drew turned and headed for the stairs. When he was midway up, he stopped and turned to look at Jana. “I’m going to Evanston to get my kids. There’s no need for you to be here when we get back.”

With tears streaming down her cheeks and the raw hurt of a broken heart, Jana left the house.

“But it wasn’t
your fault,” Greta said when Jana told her everything that had happened and about Drew’s reaction to it. “You did explain it to him that you had no choice?”

“I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me. Oh, Greta, what hurts the most is that he actually believes I could just let the boys go without trying to stop it.”

“Oh, honey.” Greta put her arms around her sister to comfort her as Jana sobbed uncontrollably.
“You’ll get this all worked out. I know it. Drew Malone
will
get his kids back.”

Jana began to cry even harder. “I’ve lost everything—the boys, Drew—whatever I may have thought I had. What am I going to do?”

“You can’t give up. Two days ago, you were in love with this man, and you have to ask yourself if he’s worth fighting for.”

Jana looked at Greta with a forlorn expression. “It’s not my fight to win. Drew doesn’t ever want to see me again.”

“You can believe what you want, but I don’t believe that. When he finds out you had no choice, he’ll understand, and if he loves you as much as I think he does, everything will work out.”

“No, Greta. It cannot be.”

That night, Jana
was restless, her eyes too swollen to sleep. Fearful that she would keep Greta awake, she dressed and went down to the lobby.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Hank Thompson said when he saw Jana. “Come, sit with an old man for a while.”

“Thanks, Hank,” Jana said with a semblance of a smile.

“You look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” Hank said as he took her hand in his and began to pat it.

“That’s probably the kindest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“Do you want to tell me everything that happened?”

For the rest of the night, Jana poured out her
tale to Hank, and he offered comments without condemning either her or Drew.

“Sometimes people just have misunderstandings, and the only thing that will heal them is time. Right now, we need to figure out just what it is you can do to pass the time,” Hank said reassuringly.

“You can’t do
that!” Greta exclaimed when Jana told her what she was planning to do.

“Why not? We came out here to homestead, and I’m going to do just that. I’m going to New Salem and join Reverend Kling’s group. Hank says they left a few days ago with a couple of boxcars loaded with supplies, so they’ll already be there when I get off the train.”

“Jana, I . . . I don’t want to leave Bismarck.”

Jana smiled and, with her eyes welled with tears, put her hand on Greta’s cheek. “Oh, my sweet sister. Just because my life is in chaos is no reason I should make a mess of yours. I want you to stay here. You’ve established yourself here, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. Now, I have to know that there is some happiness left in the world, and who better for it to be than you?”

Greta hugged her sister. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not like we won’t see one another as often as we can. New Salem is only a two-hour train ride, and I’ll expect you to come visit me anytime you can get away. You’ll have to bring me Swiss chocolate when you have extra.”

“You’re going to need a lot more than chocolate.”

“I know, but Hank helped me choose what I’ll
need, and I should be able to survive quite nicely for at least a year.”

“Don’t say that!” Greta said emphatically.

“What did I say?”

“
Survive
. That’s not a word I want to hear. It makes me think of all sorts of things.”

Jana laughed. “All right,
exist
may be a better word. Now I have something I’m going to demand of you. Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone where I’ve gone—not Tom, not somebody who lives in this hotel, not the Watsons, not anyone you might see on the street—absolutely no one—do you understand?”

“I guess that includes Drew?”

“Especially Drew. Now come up to our room and help me get ready. I want you to have all my fancy dresses because I can’t see myself wearing any of them when I’m plowing behind a mule.”

Evanston, Illinois

W
hen
the hired carriage turned onto Foster Street, Drew saw the houses of his youth and was able to recall the people who’d lived in each of them. When he was a child, Foster Street had been a dirt road going through the Foster farm property, which was the site of Northwestern, his alma mater. Now the street was paved with cobblestones, which echoed back the clopping sound of the horse’s hooves, and the village had grown to a population of at least ten thousand. When the carriage stopped in front of 726 Foster, Drew sat there for a moment, looking at the familiar two-story brick home with the wide, covered porch running across the front.

The house where he had grown up was next door, number 728, but his family was no longer there. His parents spent all their time now in Washington, DC, and only kept a small cottage on Orrington, just to maintain residency in his father’s district.

“This is it, sir, seven twenty-six,” the driver called down.

“Thank you. Would you mind standing here for a while?”

“For how long, sir?”

“For as long as it takes,” Drew said. “You’ll be compensated.”

“Yes, sir.”

When Drew knocked on the door, it was answered by the Dentons’ longtime housekeeper.

“Drew,” she said, recognizing him at once. “I’ve been expecting you, dearie.”

“Hello, Mrs. Billings. Is the professor in?”

“No, sir, he’s at the university, but Mrs. Denton is in residence. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

At Mrs. Billings’s invitation, Drew waited in the parlor until Rose Denton appeared.

“You have no reason to be here,” Mrs. Denton said.

“I’ve come for my sons.”

“You can’t have them. Tell me, Drew, did you think for one moment we would stand by and let the children live in that environment?”

“You mean in an environment where they are loved and cared for?”

“Cared for? Drew, don’t play me for a fool? I could see with my own eyes what a charlatan that hussy is. And in Addie’s bed no less. You’re despicable.”

“Woman, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Before you say anything else, I have proof. Proof that would hold up in a court of law should
you try to take these children away from me. Shall I produce it for the lawyer to peruse?”

“That would be right Christian of you.” Drew tried to keep the bile from his response.

Rose left the parlor, and as Drew waited, he saw over the fireplace, suspended from the picture rail, a large, oval photograph of Addie. He walked over to stand in front of it. The expression on her face was familiar to him, and he felt a sudden pang over her loss.

“Did you ever love Addie?” Mrs. Denton asked, returning to the room.

“Of course I loved her. What a stupid thing to ask.”

“Then how could you subject her children to this?” Mrs. Denton extended an envelope toward Drew, and he removed a letter:

Dear Mrs. Denton:

I am sure that you may remember me. When you were last in Bismarck, you visited with me to ascertain the quality of the education that Samuel Malone was receiving. I have had the privilege of instructing your talented grandson for the past several months. But I regret to inform you that he has been withdrawn from the fine educational system that is in our fair city. His father has perceived that Samuel’s educational needs should be left to that of his paramour, whom Mr. Malone has taken into his home, subjecting his children to the tortures of living in an illicit environment.

To add insult to injury, I feel it is my duty to inform you that the woman whom Mr. Malone has left in charge of the children had as previous employment, the position of posing provocatively in the front window of a store and, in so doing, enticing the men of this community to make purchases.

There is no doubt that she is a most attractive woman, and one can hardly blame Mr. Malone for being beguiled by her, but I cannot help but feel that his immoral behavior with this woman can only create an undesirable environment for young boys who are at such an impressionable age.

I’m sure that you will wish to rectify this situation at your earliest convenience.

With kindest regards,

Della Peterson

Bismarck Public School System

Vassar, class of 1878

When Drew finished reading, he very deliberately folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He placed it on the mantel, then turned to Rose.

“And you think this will hold up in a court of law? This gossip?”

“Do you deny that it’s true?”

“Parts of it are true, but there’s nothing illegal about anything that I’m doing. Miss Hartmann is highly qualified to care for Benji and tutor Sam. Now, I want to see my boys, and I want to be on
the next train to St. Paul with them by my side. Where are they?”

Rose Denton glared at Drew. “Did you conveniently forget the court order, Mr. Malone?”

“What court order?”

“Don’t play dumb, Drew. Surely your very competent housekeeper didn’t fail to tell you we came armed with a court order and a US marshal?”

Drew stood there for a long moment, staring at the woman who had been his mother-in-law, fighting to control his temper. Every vile word he had ever heard in the most flea-bitten saloon was on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be yelled at this woman. He raised his gaze to the picture on the wall, and out of respect for the memory of Addie, he said nothing. With clenched teeth and a muscle jerking painfully in his jaw, he turned and left the room, returning to the waiting coach.

“Which way, sir,” the driver asked.

“Washington, DC.”

The driver did a quick turn to look at Drew. “What did I hear you say?”

“To the train station on Central,” Drew amended.

New Salem, Dakota Territory

When Jana got off the train, her carefully selected supplies were strewn along the track because there was no depot in New Salem. In fact, there was nothing in New Salem. As she began gathering her belongings, a man rode up on a horse.

“Ma’am,” he said, as he tipped his hat. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“I’m not sure. Is this New Salem?”

“It is. Or at least it soon will be. Did you come from the Colonization Bureau?”

“I don’t know what that is. I’m looking for Reverend Kling. Is he here?”

“Do you see him?”

Jana was beginning to get irritated with this man. “Look, mister, I’m not here to play games. Do you know Reverend Kling?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers. The reverend’s down at the Bluegrass Siding. That’s where the immigrant cars are, and we’re waiting on the NP to build a new siding so we can move the cars here.” The man jumped off his horse and walked toward her, extending his hand. “I forgot my manners. I’m John Christiansen, late of Ripon, Wisconsin, and once we get your stuff policed up, I’ll take you to him.”