Train Station Bride (16 page)

It was no fortune. But it was no piddling amount either. “I would like to withdraw ten thousand dollars,” Julia said.

Flemming looked at Julia with barely concealed anger. “Really Julia. I hardly in good conscience can allow you to withdraw this amount of money in cash. Let alone let you walk into your father’s home carrying it. William Crawford would be furious and rightfully so.”

“I won’t be staying with my parents.”

Flemming removed his glasses and rubbed a beefy hand down his face. “That is hardly the point, Julia. You are an unmarried woman. Unescorted.”

“There must be a way other customers have access to their money without meeting the bank president each time, Mr. Flemming. What would you do for such a client?”

“I suppose we could transfer the funds to a signature account,” Flemming replied. “That is how most of our customers do it. Then you can go to a teller, show him your account book and withdraw funds.” Harold Flemming tilted his head and smiled benignly. “I just hope, as does your father, that you’re not intending to well, perhaps grant someone a loan or a gift. Someone who’s made certain promises.” Flemming leaned over the desk to whisper. “Someone unworthy of your attentions.”

It was becoming clear to Julia. Flemming assumed the fat old maid of the Crawford clan was bewitched by a shyster. A handsome shyster who preyed on unmarried rich woman. A shyster she would have to buy to hold his attention. Julia understood Flemming’s concerns much more than he would have thought she would. These situations were explained fully at Ramsey. Poor men sometimes attached themselves to rich woman, promising romance and adventure to get their hands on a fortune.

Julia could hear Miss Priscilla Montique, her decorum instructor, speaking as if she were in the room.
“We must guard ourselves and the work of our family against those not in the same social strata as the esteemed families you have all come from. Remember, gentlemen never mention money in the presence of a lady.”
Julia had no intention of explaining her need for money to Harold Flemming. He would trip over his coattails to get to William Crawford’s ear.

“I appreciate your concern. It is nothing like what you imagine. However, I believe I am entitled to spend my money in any fashion I see fit.” Julia was shaking. She had stood her ground. But what chance did she have of getting to one red cent without the banker’s approval.

Flemming sat back in his chair and stared intensely. He put his glasses back on taking time to fit the wire spectacles behind his ears. Without looking up he replied, “Very well. I will have Mr. Cummings make the arrangements.”

Julia let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank you very much.”

Flemming showed Julia to Mr. Cummings desk and made his goodbyes. Julia was glad to see him walk down the carpeted hallway. Maybe then she could focus on what Mr. Cummings was telling her and less on the sound of her own heartbeat.

Julia left the bank with one hundred dollars in cash and a small black leather book detailing her withdrawal. As she stood on the busy Boston street, Julia stood straighter as she looked at the teaming mass making their way past her. Men tipped their hats as Julia made her way to the edge of the sidewalk. A smile crossed her lips, as she held tighter to her reticule, her one hundred dollars tucked inside. Now if she could just hail one of the leather cabs lined up to take businessmen to their destinations. She looked left and right around the shoulders of men shouting and waving to drivers. A man glanced down at her, pulled his hat from his head and smiled.

“Are you in need of assistance, miss?”

Julia flashed the man a gleaming smile on the heels of her success with Mr. Flemming. “Why, yes, sir. I am need of a driver. Could you help me?”

The man fumbled with his hat and elbowed other men aside. “Make way, you there, make way. This lady needs a cabbie.” He turned to Julia and held the side of the carriage. He held out his hand. “Allow me.”

“Would you be so kind as to give the driver this address?” Julia asked.

Julia pulled up to her destination, paid the driver and knocked on the door of the small house in a crowded section of town. Black faces, young and old watched her as she stood on the step of the brick tenement. A small girl cracked the door and peered out at Julia.

“Hello. You must be Mary. Is your mother home?”

* * *

Jake sat on his porch steps until the sun sank far below the horizon. If he’d been thinking of anything but Julia, he’d have known his hands were near frozen. The men stared at him from the bunkhouse window. Finally, Jake noticed Slim making his way towards him.

“Evening, boss.”

“Slim.”

Slim pulled his coat tightly around him and his hat from his head. Looking around as if waiting for something to happen. “Tain’t none of my business, I reckon’, but we’s been a wondering what you’re doing sittin’ out here in the cold.”

Jake stared past him.

“Have anything to do with the Missus taking a trip?”

Jake eyed him. “What do you know about that?”

Slim’s lip curled up under his nose. He shook his head. “Yep, I was a wonderin’.”

Jake kept his voice even. “What do you know about my wife, Slim?”

“Well, I was the one that took her to town. Such a sweet, pretty little thing, Mrs. Shelling. Always so nice to me and the boys. Made doilies for under our kerosene …”

Before Jake realized what he’d done he was holding Slim a foot off the ground by his coat. “You took her to town.”

Jake dropped Slim to his feet and rubbed his head. “Sorry, Slim. Don’t suppose you’d be wanting to tell me where she went?” Damn it. He shouldn’t care where she went. It shouldn’t matter. Jake turned to the porch to go inside. He was cold as hell now. From the inside out. “Never mind, Slim. Sorry.” He was nearly inside when Slim’s words stopped him.

“Said she had a little girl back in Boston. Showed me her picture and everything. Near tears, touching that beautiful little girl’s face on that there portrait. Said she’d spent too much time away from the child.” Slim stared and waited for his boss’s reply. “She bringin’ the little one here, then?”

“It sounds like you know more of my wife’s plans than I do. I don’t have the foggiest notion what she’ll do.” Jake let the door slam behind him. So after ten years Julia was finally going to do the right thing. He wished she’d have told him her plans. A knock at the door sounded. Jake pulled it open. Slim stood on the stoop holding a letter.

“Mrs. Shelling asked me to deliver this to Mrs. Marks. I hain’t had no time to ride out to your sister’s place. Mebbe you’ll be seeing her first,” Slim said as he held the letter out to Jake.

Jake took the letter, nodded to Slim and closed the door. One thing he knew for sure, he wasn’t about to open it. He’d learned his lesson about reading what hadn’t been intended for his eyes. But he wasn’t the one to leave a child alone with a pack of wolves. Julia started this mess long before he met her. The day she handed her own flesh and blood over to her mother. On that thought he could get good and mad. Jake grabbed the whiskey from under the sink and took a swig. By the time the bottle was near empty, Jake had himself mad as hell at Julia. Cursing her for everything short of the War Between the States. And being mad was a whole hell of a lot easier than being sad, Jake thought as he stared at the doily under the bowl of wild flowers on his kitchen table.

* * *

Flossie found Jake the next morning asleep on his hands at the kitchen table, clutching a letter. She shook his shoulder softly and then spied the empty whiskey bottle.

“Jake, wake up. It’s eight o’clock,” she shouted.

Jake lifted one eye open to see his sister’s angry face. “Let me alone.”

Flossie harrumphed and proceeded to make as much noise as possible while she brewed coffee. She slammed the old enamel pot down on the stove. She pushed in kitchen chairs with a slam. Each time Jake’s head lifted off the table with a groan. Finally, Flossie opened a window to let the cold November air spill into the kitchen. When her brother didn’t stir, she pulled on her coat.

“Close the God-dammed window, Flossie.”

Flossie stopped, hand on the doorknob. “Close it yourself. Or freeze to death. Makes no never mind to me.”

“This letter’s for you.”

Flossie walked to the table and waited for Jake to lift his head. “From Julia? Did you read this one, too?”

“Shut up, Flossie and get me some coffee,” Jake growled.

Flossie took off her coat and sat down. She watched her brother, now sitting up white-faced, stare at the envelope. He handed it to her slowly as if the letting go was more significant than the mere passing of paper. Flossie took the letter, tucked it in her apron and rose to pour Jake a cup of coffee.

“Drink the whole pot. Clean yourself and this house up too. We’re celebrating Millie’s birthday on Sunday. Eating at one,” Flossie said as she shrugged her coat back on.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Jake asked. He dropped his pleading eyes from Flossie’s face. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter what it says.” Jake stood slowly and clutched the back of the chair until the room stopped spinning.

“I’ll read it when I get home, Jake. It is addressed to me.”

“Fine, fine, do whatever you want,” Jake said as he made his way to the staircase.

Flossie watched Jake climb the steps. He was as stubborn and proud, as he was loyal and honest. Thick-headed and smart all rolled into one man. And happy as hell for the short while that Julia was here. Flossie gathered the children from Slim’s watch and headed her wagon home to read.

Jake spent the rest of the week quietly. He didn’t leave the house much. Told Slim he was feeling poorly. And that he was. He’d never told a soul how much Valerie Morton’s betrayal had hurt him although he imagined Flossie suspected. That pain had a lot to do with hurt pride and disappointment for well-laid plans gone awry. This pain was ten times bigger and reached past his pride. All the way to his heart. He should have never told Julia he loved her. Never should have admitted it to himself. Should have stuck to his plan of a good cook and sons. Should’ve never let himself be caught up as Julia turned his house into a home. Never let himself plan to see her smile at the end of a day. Should have never let himself be bewitched by her body at night. And he sure as hell couldn’t let his mind conjure up their lovemaking. He’d go crazy.

* * *

Eustace Martin hurried as much as her tired body would allow up the last block to her house. With her mother gone, Mary was alone all day while she worked. A neighbor checked on the child, but Eustace worried still. She pulled her wool coat around her tightly as the wind snapped at her ears. Eustace came to a dead halt at the sight on her front porch.

“Mary. What are you doing outside in this weather, child? Miss Julia?” Eustace ran the last of the way.

“Eustace!” Julia cried and hugged her friend.

“Come on in. Open the door, Mary,” Eustace said. “Let’s get out of this cold.”

“You told me, Mama, never let a stranger in the house,” Mary said as they went into a small cozy kitchen.

“She did the right thing, Eustace. We were fine on the porch,” Julia said as she unpinned the hat from her hair.

Eustace moved a kettle of water to a flame and tossed a log on the fire. “Mary. Start your school work for me while I speak to Miss Julia.”

When Mary left the kitchen, Julia turned to Eustace with tears burning in her eyes. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life, Eustace. Or so miserable. Can I stay here with you awhile?”

Eustace gathered her friend in her arms. “Of course you can stay. Don’t know what folks will say,” Eustace held Julia away from her, “but we don’t care none about that, now do we?”

Julia blubbered and cried until Eustace had heard the whole story. “So I’m here, alone, to get Jillian.”

“I knew something was up when Mr. and Mrs. Crawford went out to see you. Your mother has had a sour look ever since I handed her your letter.”

“That’s why I can’t stay there, Eustace.” Julia dropped her head. “I’m terrified I’ll just fall back into my old habits and end up never getting Jillian.”

“How you plan on doing it? I sure hope you thought this out.”

Julia looked at Eustace with grim resolve. “I’m going to tell Jillian before Mother does. Then I’m going to show the headmistress her birth certificate to prove I’m her mother. I’m going to write Aunt Mildred and see if we can stay with her for a while. Maybe look for a small house for Jillian and I nearby.”

“You got enough money for all this? The traveling, a house, cooks and servants and all?”

“I don’t need anything large, Eustace. Nor do I need servants. I don’t have enough to live on indefinitely, but there must be something I can do to earn money.”

Eustace cocked her head. “Miss Julia. I love you like you is my own daughter. But you never cooked and cleaned and such. Let alone get a job. Do you know what you’re in for?”

Julia fingered her now soaked hanky. “Yes. As a matter of fact I do. I managed to keep Jake and I fed. Well, with his sister’s help. And I cleaned the house and gathered corn at harvest. And I taught Millie and Danny. And, and …”

“I don’t doubt for a minute you did all those things and did them just fine. But, well, Miss Jillian, she’s used to fine things. Folks taking care of her and all. What do you think that youngin’ll say about all this?”

“I don’t know. I’m terrified she’ll hate me.”

“Now, now, Miss Jillian could never hate you. She loves you dearly.”

Julia looked at Eustace and tried to stem the flow of tears. “Am I doing the right thing? Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Eustace looked away. “Tain’t for me to say, Miss Julia.”

Julia watched as the woman’s eyes darted everywhere but Julia’s face. “Tell me Eustace. You’re my oldest friend. Other than Flossie and Gloria, you’re my only friend. Tell me.”

“I’m just the charwoman, Miss Julia.”

“You’re more than the charwoman to me. Tell me,” Julia whispered.

Eustace held Julia’s hand and stroked. “I’ve been with your family for a lot of years now. I know how hard your mother and Miss Jolene made things for you. And I was right proud that you finally left to start on your own. But, Miss Jillian, I’m afraid, isn’t going to see things the same. I’m thinking she’ll not take this so well.” Eustace hurried on to Julia’s stricken face. “Now you asked me if I thought you was doing the right thing. The answer to that is yes. I think you’re doing the right thing. Even now after all these years.”