Authors: A Place to Belong
“Why not?” Maggie asked.
“Because he’s dying, Maggie.”
“That isn’t possible! He’s not an old man, and he has plenty of money for doctors and medicine. He can’t be dying,” Maggie stated in disbelief.
Garrett’s eyes softened. “All the money in the world can’t buy you a new heart. Jason’s heart has worn itself out, and there’s no way to make it right again. He’s aged rapidly, lost a great deal of weight, and spends most of his days in bed.”
Maggie let the news soak in. “How, how long. . .” Maggie couldn’t ask the question.
“How long does he have?” Garrett filled in the words.
Maggie nodded.
“Only God knows for sure.”
Maggie felt more tired than she’d ever been before. She could no longer deal with her painful past.
“Garrett, I believe I’d like to retire. I’m completely spent.”
“I understand. Let me walk you to your sleeper.” Garrett stood and offered Maggie his hand. For a moment she hesitated, but her heart reasoned away any objections. She placed her hand in Garrett’s and allowed him to lead her down the train aisle.
The lantern in Maggie’s sleeping compartment made the room look warm and inviting. She paused in the doorway.
“Good night, Garrett,” she said. She tried to think of something else to say, but the intensity of Garrett’s stare banished rational thought. Maggie could feel her heart beating in her throat. Garrett was too close, and his hand was still firmly around her arm.
When he leaned down and gently pressed his lips on hers, Maggie went limp. She’d never been kissed by anyone on the lips, until now.
The kiss lasted a heartbeat, but to Maggie it seemed like a lifetime. When Garrett raised his head to speak, Maggie kept her eyes lowered. “Good night,” he said before retreating down the narrow train aisle.
Chapter 6
A
t midnight, the train entered Newton, Kansas. Maggie was jerked awake by raucous laughter and drunken singing. As she struggled to sit up, she remembered Garrett’s kiss.
“I’ve got to get away from here,” she said in a hushed whisper. The sound of breaking glass outside drew her attention, and she peeked out from behind the window shade. The depot’s large white letters read, “Newton.”
Surely, Garrett’s asleep at this hour,
Maggie thought.
I should leave now.
The girl rushed to find her clothes. She reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and found her money still safe.
The lantern burned very low, and Maggie hurried to the mirror and did her best to pull her hair back. She tied it with the ribbon that had held her lace collar at the neck of her blouse. “It’ll have to do,” she conceded, not totally satisfied with the results.
Maggie pulled her coat on quietly and grabbed the carpetbag. Gently she edged the door of her sleeping compartment open and checked the hallway for any sign of Garrett. There was none.
As quickly as she could, Maggie maneuvered through the shadowy corridors of the train car. At last she was rewarded with the exit door.
“Well, Miss, if you’re getting off here, I’d suggest you hurry. Train’s pulling out directly,” the conductor told her in his disinterested manner. Maggie prayed that he wouldn’t question Garrett’s whereabouts.
“Thank you, I will,” Maggie replied. “Can you tell me where the nearest hotel is?”
“That whitewashed clapboard over there,” the conductor said, eyeing his watch. “Sorry, Ma’am. We’re pulling out. Are you staying?”
“Yes,” Maggie managed to say. She took a last look at the train. The laughter had died down, and there was just the muffled noise of several other passengers walking away from the railroad station. The conductor returned the steps to the platform of the train and waved his brass lantern to signal the engineer.
As the train groaned and jerked down the tracks, Maggie thought of Garrett. She was almost sorry she’d outfoxed him. She chuckled to herself as she walked toward the hotel.
Maggie found sleeping quarters with only moderate difficulty. As tired as she felt, she would have gladly slept in the barn. The manager had given her a candle, and Maggie didn’t bother to inspect the room other than to locate the bed.
She undressed and, with a quick breath, blew out the candle and settled into bed. Maggie thought about all the things Garrett had told her. A part of her wished she could break down the barriers between her father and herself, but Maggie was certain he would never forgive her. Loneliness filled her as she again saw herself as a child. She struggled to remember something, but it passed away quickly in the cloudiness of sleep.
Several hours later, Maggie woke with a start. She couldn’t remember where she was. The sun was just starting to shine through the lace curtains of her hotel room window.
Maggie swung her legs over the side of the bed, newly aware of her surroundings. The room wasn’t much to look at, but it was clean and safe. The girl shivered from the cold wooden floor as she crossed to the window.
Careful not to reveal that she was dressed only in her camisole and petticoat, Maggie pulled back the curtain. Most of Newton still slept, and she wondered what time it was.
It must be early,
she thought to herself. Realizing she was hungry, Maggie placed the carpetbag on the bed and pulled out a soda biscuit. As she began to eat, she remembered the evening before when she’d dined with Garrett in Florence. The heady aroma of the Harvey House food lingered in her mind, making her biscuit seem inadequate.
She also remembered the intimate conversation, Garrett’s touch, and their kiss. Maggie shook her head as if to dispel the memory, but it was no use. Dancing blue eyes and a gentle smile were all she could remember. That and the fact that she was supposed to become Garrett Lucas’s wife.
Within an hour, Maggie was dressed. Her traveling suit was hopelessly wrinkled, but there was no use worrying about it. She took the carpetbag and headed downstairs.
“Morning, Miss.” The same man who’d given her entrance the night before was greeting her as though he’d woken from an undisturbed night. Maggie couldn’t help but smile.
“Good morning,” she answered politely. Just then, half a dozen children came running through the lobby. They were laughing and playing tag.
“Now children,” the man began. “You know the rules about running inside. Go on out if you’re going to run.” The children stopped long enough to acknowledge their father, and then rushed through the hotel door out onto the street.
“Now, Miss, what can I do for you?” he asked, turning his attention back to Maggie.
“When will the next train for Topeka be through?”
“Well, that’s hard to say. Usually, the train you were just on transfers its passengers at Great Bend. Then it comes on back and picks up eastbound passengers,” the man told her.
“Usually?” Maggie held her breath.
“They’ve been having trouble with the Arkansas River. Rains are causing grief with the flood levels. If there’s much more rain, the Arkansas is going to be out of its banks, then there won’t be any trains through for a spell.”
“If it doesn’t flood,” Maggie began in a hopeful tone, “when will the train be back through?”
“This afternoon.”
Maggie bit her lower lip as she thought. Garrett was bound to know she was gone by now. If not, it wouldn’t be much longer before he found out. She couldn’t risk staying in Newton long enough for Garrett to return on the afternoon train.
“What about a horse? Where could I buy or rent a horse?” Maggie questioned innocently.
“You could check at the livery stable, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Horses are hard to come by out here. You won’t find too many people willing to rid themselves of one. Besides,” the man answered, noticing Maggie’s attire, “you aren’t really dressed for riding.”
Maggie tried to smile, but her mind was in a frenzy. If she couldn’t get out of Newton within hours, Garrett would find her.
“What about the stage? Will there be a stagecoach or freighters leaving for Topeka today?” Maggie knew she was appearing desperate.
“I don’t know what’s chasing you, little lady, but the answer is no. Stage isn’t due through here for another day,” the proprietor said sympathetically. “I’d check with the livery stable first, but I’d say if you’re going to leave Newton today, it’ll be on foot.”
Maggie nodded and thanked the man. She walked to the livery stable, where the livery owner told her there hadn’t been a horse available for sale since February.
“Where you want to go, little lady?” a foul-smelling man asked Maggie.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” Maggie said, growing increasingly uncomfortable as the man’s friends joined him.
“She ain’t your type, Jake,” one of the man’s filthy friends offered. “You’re more my type, now ain’t you?” The other men laughed and ribbed each other with their elbows.
“You saddle tramps git out. You hear me? Now git!” the livery owner
bellowed. When the men begrudgingly walked away, Maggie turned to
thank the man.
“I appreciate your help. I don’t suppose there’s any hope of someone hauling freight out this morning?”
“Nope, I’d know if there was. As far as I know, you’re stuck here at least until tomorrow, probably more like next Friday. I don’t think the train will get past the Arkansas River crossing.”
A discouraged Maggie walked to the Harvey House and sat down for a hot breakfast. Her money was going fast, but if she did have to walk out as the hotel manager had mentioned, she would need proper nourishment.
While eating breakfast, Maggie learned the train she’d been on the night before had already turned back in the direction of Newton. The Harvey girl informed her they expected the train for the lunch meal.
Maggie wondered what she should do. She could try to hide out in Newton or get on the train after Garrett got off. She toyed with several ideas while absentmindedly stuffing food in her mouth. She was surprised to find herself nearly finished with her meal when the Harvey girl appeared at her table to see if she needed anything else.
By eight o’clock, Maggie had decided to walk to Florence. The town was a main hub for the stage, and freight was being hauled out every day. Maggie didn’t know how long it would take to walk the thirty miles to Florence, but putting space between Garrett and herself was the only thing that mattered.
After paying for her breakfast, Maggie got directions to the general store and went in search of supplies.
A cheery bell rang on the door of the store as Maggie entered. She was greeted by an elderly woman who eyed every stranger suspiciously.
“Where did you come from?” the woman questioned rudely.
“I’m from Topeka,” Maggie answered, hoping her honesty would quell the woman’s curiosity.
“Topeka? You came here from Topeka? When?”
“I came in last night, and now I’m getting ready to leave. I have a few things I need, and if you don’t mind, I need to hurry,” Maggie retorted rather harshly.
“You running from the law, Girl?” the woman continued to pry.
“Absolutely not!” Maggie exclaimed.
Quickly, Maggie located the things she needed for the walk. She was grateful she’d had the sense to wear walking shoes. She located a canteen and some dried fruit and placed them on the counter.
“I figure you must be planning on walking somewhere. I’d be mindful of the weather if I was you,” the older woman said, seeming to soften a bit. “My big toe has been aching all night from the chill in the air. I figure a powerful storm is brewing, and we’ll be due for rain tonight.” Maggie nodded and paid the woman.
“You aren’t going to walk far in that outfit are you?” the woman asked, smoothing back a strand of gray hair.
“It’ll take me as far as I need to go,” Maggie replied and walked out of the store.
Maggie knew following the train tracks would be the wisest thing to do. She also knew it would be the first place Garrett would look for her. She walked several yards before deciding to parallel the tracks as best she could without being seen. The prairie stretched out endlessly before her. Only an occasional stand of trees broke the monotony.
Remembering the old woman’s warning, Maggie looked to the skies. Clouds were building to the west. Probably the same storm that had flooded the Arkansas River, Maggie surmised.
For a moment, she thought better of her decision to walk to Florence. She turned to survey Newton once again. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard to find a hiding place.
She looked skyward again, and her mind turned to thoughts of God. Where was He in all this? Maggie couldn’t help but wonder what God would want her to do. She’d spent so much of her life ignoring God’s direction that now she felt ridiculous for her concern.
But maybe God wanted to use something in this to help her find her way. A place where Maggie could finally belong. She sighed. Why would God care about her? After all, she’d done nothing but turn her back on Him. No, Maggie decided, God certainly wouldn’t listen to her now.
Calling upon every ounce of courage she possessed, Maggie moved north, away from the tracks. She knew she’d be able to see the telegraph wires from quite a distance, and the added space gave her a slight feeling of security. When Maggie felt confident she was far enough away from the tracks to be hidden by the tall prairie grass, she turned east. Determined to reach Florence as soon as possible, Maggie quickened her steps.
“Soon I’ll be back where I belong,” Maggie said aloud, trying desperately to bolster her sagging spirits. But in truth, Maggie wasn’t sure where she belonged.
Chapter 7
B
y ten o’clock, Maggie knew leaving Newton had been a mistake. Her feet hurt and her back ached. Sitting down, Maggie took off her shoes and surveyed the terrain around her. It was pretty enough, she thought as she rubbed her blistered feet. The fields were covered with tall, thick prairie grass. In the distance, rolling hills were covered with soft greens and purples.
Returning her shoes to her feet, Maggie stood and brushed the grass from
her skirt. If only it were as easy to brush off the emptiness that filled her
heart!
The air felt heavy and sticky. The farther Maggie walked, the more desperate she felt.
“But I had to leave,” she reasoned aloud. “I couldn’t go on with him—with Garrett.” Just saying his name reminded her of the tender way he’d kissed her.
Growing up in Topeka, Maggie had avoided both boys her own age and older men who found her prime wife material. It was the age of the mail-order bride, and Maggie couldn’t help but laugh out loud as she remembered one particular encounter. Harley T. Smythe, a local bride broker, had come unannounced to the Intissar home.
Maggie could still remember the stunned look on her grandmother’s face as Mr. Smythe had explained his intentions of arranging a marriage for the older woman. Sophia had listened patiently, but not without discomfort. When at last Mr. Smythe took a breath, Sophia had interrupted and led him back to the front door.
“Mr. Smythe,” Sophia had stated as she fairly pushed him through the portal. “I have no intention of remarrying.” With that she closed the door in Harley T. Smythe’s astonished face and let out a laugh matching Maggie’s.
Maggie felt tears in her eyes. “I love you so much, Grandmother. You were always there for me, and you always made me happy.” Maggie continued talking as if her grandmother walked beside her. Somehow it made the miles pass more quickly.
She had walked some distance when the grasslands started giving way to rockier scenery. The rocks were a nuisance, but there was no avoiding them.
Soon, Maggie came to another obstacle. A wide ravine, apparently a dry wash or creek bed, cut deep into the ground. Maggie considered her plight, but within seconds her mind was made up for her. The sound of riders caught her attention.
“Garrett!” The name caught in her throat. Three mounted horses were kicking up a fury of dust in the direction Maggie had just come from.
Without thinking, Maggie started down the edge of the ravine. The rocky gravel gave way, causing her to slide halfway into the small canyon. The ravine was deep and ran for miles either way, with small caves and inlets hidden in the rock walls. As she reached the bottom, Maggie hurried in the direction of the railroad tracks.
She kept straining to hear the sound of hooves. She knew the men must have seen her, and she began to run, tripping over larger rocks. She heard rumbling in the distance. The sky had grown dark. Her side began to hurt and her legs were cramping, but Maggie knew she had to continue running.
The ravine grew deeper and began twisting and turning. Maggie could see where the railroad trestle crossed the ravine. If she could make it to the trestle, she might find a place to hide. She hiked her skirts up higher and put all her strength into running. As she approached the trestle, her eyes darted back and forth. No sanctuary revealed itself.
Quickly, Maggie scurried under the trestle and continued down the ravine.
Rain started to pour, and Maggie grew desperate as she heard a horse’s whin
ny. The riders were very close.
“ ‘Deliver me in Thy righteousness, and cause me to escape: incline Thine ear unto me, and save me.’ ” She murmured the Psalm, surprised that she had remembered it. She thought about praying, but changed her mind. She never could abide the attitude of calling on God when one was in trouble, only to go one’s own way when things went well.
Just when Maggie found it impossible to force herself any farther, an opening in the ravine wall revealed itself. It was scarcely more than a two-foot-wide indention, but Maggie could hug her rain-drenched body against the rock and avoid being seen by the riders above her.
A flash of lightning startled the girl, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in surprise. The boom of thunder so soon after the lightning let her know the worst of the storm was nearly upon them. The wind picked up, muffling the riders’ voices.
“I don’t see her, Jake,” one of the men called out. “Let’s go back to town and out of this mess.”
Maggie tensed. It wasn’t Garrett after all but the ruffians from the livery stable in Newton. Remembering the look in Jake’s eyes caused her to freeze in fear.
“I guess you’re right. I’m pert near soaked to the bone already.”
Maggie recognized Jake’s grizzly voice. Another flash of lightning caused Maggie to jump. Overhead, the horses snorted and stamped.
“Come on. Let’s git,” Jake called to his companions. “Another day, little lady,” he yelled in the direction of the ravine. Maggie shivered at the thought.
The men rode away, but with the storm growing stronger, Maggie stayed against the ravine wall. Thunder continued to boom out answers to lightning, and the sky grew even darker. Maggie noticed water collecting in the ravine bottom.
After another ten minutes, the lightning had lessened but not the rain. The water was nearly to Maggie’s ankles, and it continued to rise.
I’ve got to get out of here
, Maggie thought. She began to wade toward the railroad bridge. The weight of her water-drenched skirts threatened to drag her down, but she held her skirts up above her knees and kept wading. She got to the trestle, thankful that the skies had lightened a little.
Maggie rested against one trestle support after another until she’d worked her way out of the ravine. At the top, she rested under the bridge and considered what to do next. The water had risen even higher and resembled a small creek.
Suddenly, Maggie became aware of what a sheltered life she’d led. Someone had always been close at hand to help her out of trouble. While she’d learned many social graces and home skills, she was just as Garrett had said: a spoiled and selfish child.
When the rain let up, Maggie continued her journey toward Florence. The sky was overcast, but the sun was beginning to heat things up. Maggie felt sticky and uncomfortable in her clothes.
The clouds began to build again, and huge thunderheads were lining the horizon to the west. Maggie recognized signs of another storm. She picked up her pace, but because of her blisters, she just as quickly slowed down again.
Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes. All she wanted to do was go home, care for her Grandmother Intissar, and be happy. Why would God begrudge her that? But Maggie already knew the answer. God was not making war on her. She was making war on God.
Refusing to deal with the issue of God and her need for Him, Maggie concentrated on each step. “I’m one step closer to Topeka. I’m that much closer to home,” she murmured as the soggy ground mushed up around her feet.
The sky grew darker as the squall line neared. Maggie felt even more vulnerable than before. Part of her wanted to sit down on the waterlogged ground and cry, but she knew that she had to find shelter.
Maggie could see very little that constituted a safe haven. Ahead to the north was a small stand of trees. They weren’t likely to offer much protection, but perhaps they would buffer the wind. As Maggie pushed forward, she remembered her grandmother’s warning about trees and lightning. She knew she was being foolish, but the alternative of open prairie seemed far less appealing.
Maggie barely reached the trees when the first huge raindrops began to fall. The sky had taken on a greenish hue, a sure sign of hail.
The trees offered little cover. The brush around them was laden with dead leaves, grass, and twigs. Maggie chose a spot surrounded on three sides by young trees, hoping that if lightning proved to be a problem, it would strike taller, older trees.
The wind picked up and chilled Maggie to the bone. Rain pelted her from every direction. Maggie hid her face in the carpetbag, refusing to watch the violence around her.
After what seemed hours, the storm played itself out, leaving colder temperatures behind. Maggie began to walk, no longer able to bear the pain and cold of sitting crouched against the trees.
There was little hope of reaching Florence before night, and Maggie began to wonder how she would endure a night on the prairie. If she continued walking after dark, there would be no way of knowing where she was. But if she stopped, she’d have to sleep out in the open.
Maggie walked on in the fading light. Every part of her body was saturated from the rain, and the weight of her clothing was slowing her pace to a near crawl. Finally, as the last bit of light slipped over the horizon, Maggie dropped to her knees in the soggy prairie grass.
The prairie sky filled with stars, and the moon darted in and out from behind clouds. Maggie huddled shivering on the ground below. Her senses were dulled from the cold, and her mind was groggy with sleep. The last thing she remembered was the distant howl of a coyote.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, but the wind was still cold. Typical of Kansas weather, summer didn’t guarantee warmth.
Maggie pulled herself to a sitting position and waited for her head to stop spinning. When the dizziness refused to subside, she began to panic. She shook her head and felt blinding pain.
Slowly, she got to her feet and tried to get her bearings. There was no sign of the railroad or the telegraph poles. There was nothing to do but walk in the direction of the rising sun. At least that would put her in an eastward direction.
Minutes worked into hours, and Maggie still had no indication that she was where she ought to be. She strained her eyes to catch some sign of life but saw nothing except hills and rocky fields.
When the sun was nearly overhead, Maggie stopped and ate some of the food from her carpetbag. It satisfied her hunger but did nothing to clear her head. She rested on the grass for a moment, fighting dizziness. Mindful that precious time was escaping, Maggie summoned all her strength in order to push on.
She got on her hands and knees and tried to stand, but immediately fell back to the ground. She tried again and again, but it was no use. Finally, Maggie gave up and let her body slump to the ground.
“I give up God!” she cried to the heavens. “I give up. Whatever it is You want, I accept. I won’t fight anymore. If marrying Garrett Lucas and living in the New Mexico Territory are best for me, then so be it. I will not defy Your will any longer. But, please, please help me now. Show me what to do, where to go! Please!”
Maggie was unable to keep her eyes open. She dreamed of warm fires and her grandmother’s hot chocolate. She was vaguely aware of a dull ache in her head and chest, but she couldn’t rally enough strength to figure out why she hurt so much.
When next she opened her eyes, the sun was just setting on the horizon. Or was it rising? Maggie tried to get some sense of the time of day, but her mind refused to register anything but pain. She coughed until she nearly passed out. The intense cold made her shake violently.
At one point, Maggie opened her eyes and thought she saw people in the distance, but when she squeezed her eyes tight and opened them again, she realized it was just her imagination.
The sky grew dark and the ground grew colder than ever. Maggie’s teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. She didn’t hear the approaching sound of horse hooves, and she barely felt the hands that gently turned her over and helped her to sit. When she opened her eyes, she could only gasp one word before falling back against the offered support.
“Garrett.”
Maggie saw tears in Garrett’s eyes as he cradled her in his arms. They couldn’t be real, she decided. Nor could the words she heard him saying.
“Maggie, my Maggie. What would I do if I lost you now? Please, God don’t let her die!”
No. Those words were only her wishful imagination, Maggie decided as she drifted into sleep.