The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich (3 page)

“I know,” Kizzy said.

Her voice was calming, and Evangeline returned to her feelings of excitement about going to be with Jennie.

“Just do tell your father soon, all right, Evangeline?” Kizzy asked in an almost pleading manner. “You’re his eldest daughter, honey. You’ll be the one he has the hardest time lettin’ go.”

Evangeline smiled, again amazed at Kizzy’s insight. “I won’t wait, Kizzy. I’ll tell him tonight…just after dinner.”

Kizzy nodded and said, “Thank you, Evie.” She giggled then, exclaiming, “Oh, I’m so excited for you! What an adventure it will be, hmm?”

Evangeline laughed at Kizzy’s obvious delight in Evangeline’s pending trip. For a moment, she wasn’t too certain how traveling to help care for a bedridden woman qualified as an adventure, but the more she thought about it as an adventure, the more it felt as if it would be.

Yes, throughout the remainder of the day, Evangeline thought of traveling on the train from Langtree to Red Peak—of seeing the beautiful red rock Jennie had told her composed the hills and mesas around the town, of witnessing so much in a place she’d never been before. And most adventurous of all would be the time spent with Jennie. If the delight and exuberance in Jennie’s letters to Evangeline indicated how thoroughly she had remained the same mischievous, amusing person she had been as a girl, then Evangeline knew that her trip north to see her friend would indeed be the adventure of a lifetime!

She’d been so sure! Evangeline had been so certain, so confident in her decision to travel to Red Peak to be with Jennie. Yet now as she heard the conductor call, “All aboard!”—as she clung to her father, feeling an unfamiliar agony at the realization she would be parted from him for the first time in all her life—she wasn’t so unwavering in her determination to see Jennie through her difficult time as she had been even the day before.

“Daddy?” she whispered, inhaling the comforting scent of his shaving soap as she clung tightly to him. She buried her face against his neck just as she’d done as a child. “Daddy, I’m not sure…”

“Of course you’re not sure, sweet pea,” Lawson Ipswich soothed. The low, reassuring intonation of his voice did serve to calm Evangeline—if only a little. “No one’s ever sure when they leave home for their first trip away from their family. But this will be good for you, Evie—an adventure of one type or another. I’m certain of it. And I know that being with Jennie again will give you a sense of liberation of sorts—something you haven’t known in a very long time.”

Lawson sighed, holding his daughter at arm’s length as he studied her. Even for his strong reassurances, Evangeline could see the emotion in his eyes—the sadness and anxiety. Oh, his words were telling her she should go to Jennie, but his heart was telling
him
otherwise.

“And besides, it’s not forever, after all,” Lawson added, forcing a smile. “It’s just a month or so, and then you’ll be back with us again.” Lawson released Evangeline, somewhat unwillingly, and turned to Brake McClendon, his son-in-law. “And by the time you get back, Brake and I will have moved he and Amoretta back to Meadowlark Lake, and we’ll, all of us, spend Thanksgiving and Christmas Day together, hmm?”

“That’s right,” Brake agreed, adding a reassuring smile of his own. “We’ll miss you, Evangeline,” he assured her.

Evangeline smiled. Her sister, Amoretta, gave Evangeline one last hug and then turned to melt into the strong embrace of her husband, Brake.

“You’ll be back to us soon enough, won’t you, Evie?” Amoretta more stated than asked.

“Of course, darling,” Evangeline answered, brushing more tears from her cheeks.

“Last call! All aboard!” the conductor shouted again.

The loud huffing and puffing of the train’s powerful steam engine as it came to life did nothing to settle Evangeline’s anxiety as she turned and quickly boarded the train car behind her.

As the train slowly began to pull away from the Langtree station, Amoretta kissed her own hand, tossing the invisible token of affection to Evangeline. Brake waved, as well as her father. Evangeline thought she’d never seen him look so sad—at least, not since the death of her mother. Furthermore, her own heart was aching so thoroughly that the instant was painful to endure.

What was she thinking in leaving her family? Even for such a short time, and for such a very good reason?

For a moment, Evangeline considered dashing to the back of the train car and jumping off the train. But as the train began to gather more speed, and as she remembered her traveling trunk that was in the storage car, she closed her eyes and reached deep inside her soul to find her courage. Jennie needed her—truly needed her. Whether it was physical help in keeping house and cooking meals or company and encouragement, Jennie did
need
Evangeline. She wasn’t needed at home—at least not in the same way Jennie needed her. Her father had Kizzy and Shay to love and look after—not to mention a new baby on the way. Her younger sisters, Amoretta and Calliope, each had husbands who were in need of them. And though Evangeline knew her family loved her and needed her presence to make them feel complete, Jennie needed her company and encouragement more.

Evangeline thought of all these reasons over and over again as the train traveled north, leaving her family farther and farther behind. Gradually, she found that her tears diminished and then stopped. She began to think of Jennie and the tender friendship they’d enjoyed as girls. Thus, also gradually, Evangeline’s heart began to lighten as she thought of seeing Jennie again—of talking with her, laughing with her, and being near to help her in her time of distress and need.

Exhaling a heavy sigh—the sigh borne of weathering an emotional good-bye and next realizing that she was indeed excited at the prospect of venturing to something out of the ordinary—Evangeline began to gaze out the train car window at the brilliant colors with which autumn was adorning the landscape.

Crimson and orange sumac, golden cottonwood, and scarlet maple mingled in harmony with evergreen to line the landscape along the railroad tracks as the train traveled. Creek banks were lined with cattails, some already beginning to burst into silky white tufts that the wind would capture and carry to seed new venues.

Now and again, the train would travel past the outskirts of some small town. There farmers were harvesting pumpkins in fields of withered vines near vast acres of cornstalks, which now stood drab and yellowed in sleeping—spent by a healthy harvest. Shabby scarecrows, once hearty sentinels of summer, lingered in worn, sun-blanched clothes, looking tired yet happy to know winter would bring them rest.

In truth, Evangeline had not traveled along a more beautiful venue, and it cheered her. Slowly, her anxiety over leaving her family home began to lessen, and her enthusiasm at seeing Jennie returned.

Evangeline rested her head against the back of her seat and closed her eyes. She smiled as she thought back on the joy she and Jennie had known in each other’s company as young girls—the days of sunshine and making daisy chains, of tea parties in her mother’s parlor, and of chilled autumn ghost hunts in the old cemeteries that dotted the historic venues of Boston. Those had been carefree days indeed—days spent in playtime and dreaming, in giggling and sharing secrets with Jennie. Of course that had all been before Evangeline’s mother and baby brother had died—before Evangeline had had to, at the tender age of twelve, step into her mother’s shoes to care for her two young sisters, Amoretta and Calliope. It had been before Jennie’s older brother had up and left his home and family one day, leaving Jennie distraught and Evangeline secretly heartbroken. It had been before Jennie had married Calvin McKee and moved west—before Evangeline’s own father had decided to leave Boston himself, thereby moving Evangeline and her two sisters west as well, to the town of Meadowlark Lake.

In truth, those young years of Evangeline’s life spent in the blissful comfort of family and the cherished friendship of Jennie seemed so very long ago. Evangeline knew she was different now than she had been—and not just grown up. Evangeline knew she was somewhat weathered by tragedy and emotional hardship. Therefore, the prospect of seeing Jennie again began to seem like a dream—an escape to a thread from the past—and for a moment, Evangeline wondered if perhaps, in seeing Jennie again, she might regain a small measure of the carefree happiness she had lost when her mother had died.

Still, she knew it was best not to expect too much joviality in Jennie’s company. After all, Jennie was in a bad way, bedridden until her baby arrived. Furthermore, she had a husband, and no doubt Calvin would require the majority of Jennie’s attention and companionship.

Opening her eyes once more, Evangeline determined, however, that even though her visit to Red Peak would require a lot of work in keeping house and making meals for Jennie and her husband, she would find the time for reminiscing, laughing, and sharing secrets with her old friend. And maybe, just maybe, doing so would help Evangeline regain a measure of the person she might have been—before loss, heartache, and responsibility had put her on a different track in life. Perhaps her adventure to visit Jennie would work a bit like the railway switch Evangeline could see the train turning onto in that very moment. And then perhaps Evangeline wouldn’t feel quite so alone so much of the time. Perhaps she wouldn’t find herself longing for something that was missing in her—something that she couldn’t even identify to herself.

Evangeline smiled as her heart lightened. Yes! She was glad she was taking the trip to see Jennie, for she felt as if some sort of wild exhilaration that had been long suppressed had been restored to her.

Gazing out the window again, Evangeline sighed. She had made the right decision in going to visit Jennie. She did wince a moment when she thought of the note from Shay she carried in her pocket—a note moist with tears and verbose with descriptions of how her little sister would miss Evangeline. Still, she choked back her emotions of missing her family and thought only of the visit ahead. Her father had been right: Evangeline did feel a sense of liberation, and this before she’d even reached the destination!

As she stepped off the train and onto the Red Peak train platform, Evangeline shivered a little, for the weather was considerably colder than it had been in Langtree. Certainly autumn was brilliant in its October glory when she’d left Meadowlark Lake earlier that same day. Yet cool and crisp as the morning air had been in Langtree, the early evening atmosphere of Red Peak was nigh unto frigid.

“Here you go, miss,” the tall, rather elderly porter said as he set her traveling trunk down on the platform next to her. “You enjoy your visit now.”

“Thank you,” Evangeline said, smiling as the porter tipped his hat to her and accepted the coins of gratuity she offered.

“Thank you, miss,” the man said as he shuffled off to board the train once more.

Evangeline inhaled a deep breath of cold autumn air. Glancing about for a moment, she was not the least bit disappointed with the pines and gold-leafed aspens that surrounded the train station. Quite the opposite of Meadowlark Lake and Langtree’s crimson maples and flaming orange and scarlet sumac, the deep richness of the evergreens mingled with the quivering yellow of the aspen leaves was just as beautiful—simply different.

Evangeline startled a little as a somewhat quiet bark drew her attention from the autumn vista before her and to a medium-sized brown dog that had suddenly appeared at her side. The dog stood panting happily, as if he’d known her all her life, and it quite warmed Evangeline’s heart.

“Well, aren’t you a friendly little fellow?” she giggled as the dog—who she quickly noticed was missing one hind leg—sat at her feet, wagging its tail and panting in happy anticipation of attention.

Again Evangeline giggled. “Aren’t you just a handsome man? Yes, you are,” she said to the dog as she hunkered down and scratched behind his ears. She laughed when the dog’s one hind leg began to beat the train platform as a signal of delight. “Oh, you
are
a sweetheart, aren’t you? I bet you’re quite the Romeo in town too, hmmm?”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Evangeline Ipswich,” came a man’s voice from behind her. “And I see you’ve already won over Jones.”

Evangeline felt goose bumps break over her entire body, for she’d instantly recognized the voice, even for the near six years it had been since she’d last heard it.

Rendered breathless by the familiar, yet long absent, sensation of excitement that washed over her, Evangeline felt a nervous trembling begin in her bosom as she slowly stood and turned around. A quite gasp escaped her as she gazed up into the indecently handsome face of Jennie’s elder brother, Hutchner LaMontagne.

“H-Hutch?” Evangeline stammered as she continued to stare at him. As cute as Hutchner LaMontagne had been as a boy—as exceptionally good-looking as he’d been as a very young man—it was all nothing compared with the magnificent specimen of manly attractiveness that full-grown manhood had bestowed upon him.

Evangeline quickly surmised Hutch was much taller even than he had been when she’d last seen him—even taller than her father. His shoulders were broader than broad, as was the expanse of his chest. Where it showed beneath his hat, it was obvious that his hair was still the same dark, warm brown that had ever lingered in Evangeline’s reminiscent daydreams. Likewise his eyes were the same familiar, breathtaking, riveting blue. Yet his jaw was more squared, all the more pronounced and complemented by a few days of dark whisker growth. His nose was as straight as ever and his smile even more captivating than even it had been.