Westward the Dream (35 page)

“Send your brother here and let him have this position,” the banker suggested.

“No, that would never do. He's a photographer and very poor with numbers,” Jordana countered.

Then just when she feared she would have to take on a stronger approach, the man's expression changed. “I have an idea. Perhaps it would be acceptable to you.”

“I'm listening, sir.”

“There's a small house at the edge of town. It's certainly not much to look at, but the bank now owns it. I could make you a deal whereby that house would be available to you and your family, in lieu of pay.”

Jordana considered this for a moment. It was a very generous offer, but of course, she'd not yet seen the house. “What about winter fuel? We can hardly set out to find our own and afford to purchase it without money.”

“I'll give you a six-month supply of fuel and a lease for the same amount of time,” Chittenden replied.

He looked at her eagerly, and Jordana felt just a little sorry for him. “Very well. I will accept your offer. A six-month pledge to allow us use of the house and fuel for the same amount of time.” Reasoning to herself that surely they wouldn't need to remain in Omaha for much longer than six months, she shook the flustered banker's hand with great flair. “You draw up the proper papers, and I shall look them over and see that they are acceptable. How soon may we take possession of the house?”

“Immediately,” the man replied with a smile. “I have the key right here. I'll send someone over with the fuel this afternoon.” He went to the desk and pulled out the key. “You take the street just to the side of the bank and follow it to where it heads out of town. There you will find a small, unpainted clapboard house. That is the place.”

Jordana smiled. “Mr. Chittenden, thank you very much. I shall see you on Monday.”

She left the bank feeling quite smug. Even if the house was a hovel, it was still something. She made her way back to the hotel, not at all surprised to find Brenton pacing and fuming in their room upon her return.

“Just where have you been?” he demanded angrily. “I told you to stay here.”

“Yes, I know, but hear me out before you go losing your temper.” Jordana held up the key and smiled at Brenton and then at Caitlan. “I have secured a house for us.”

“What?”

“I have taken a job at the bank, and my salary is to consist of this house for six months and fuel for the same amount of time.”

“I don't believe it.” Brenton shook his head in bewilderment.

Caitlan laughed. “Well, I can be believin' it. Yar sister has a way of takin' the world by storm. If she'd come back with jobs for all of us, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least.”

Jordana grinned. “Well, I didn't do that, but I figured first things first. Come on. We can go see the place right away.”

Brenton shrugged and took up his outer coat. “Very well. Let us see this mansion you have secured for us.”

Ten minutes later, they stood at the front of the simple dwelling. It was small—very small—and the unpainted boards made it look old and unstable. The structure sat completely by itself except for one rather twisted and gnarled cottonwood tree. The barrenness of the landscape made the proposition of living here seem even more dismal.

“Come on,” Jordana encouraged. “Let's go inside.”

“I'm afraid it might fall down upon us,” Brenton said, looking doubtful.

“Oh, so it needs some fixin',” Caitlan replied. “I've seen worse in me life.” She laughed then and added, “I've
lived
in worse.”

“It reminds me of the stories Mother tells about when we first moved to Greigsville.” Jordana could just barely remember the run-down dwelling her family had once called home. This house seemed nicer than that one by far.

“Yes, I remember that place as well,” Brenton said, still not encouraged. “I also remember the work it took to put it in order.”

“Do you remember, too, what Mother said about fixing it up?” Jordana asked. “She said she claimed the promise of being able to do all things through Christ. That shall be my hope as well. Now, stop being a goose and come see my new house.”

37

The day before the ground-breaking ceremony for the Union Pacific, Jordana and Caitlan finally felt satisfied in what they'd managed to accomplish with the small two-bedroom house. Despite the way it looked on the outside, the frame proved to be sturdy, and this allowed Brenton to feel confident in taking on the project.

For a week, they had scrubbed and cleaned every corner and cranny of the house, until Caitlan had pronounced it acceptable. There was no furniture to speak of, but that didn't deter the trio from moving in with great gusto and hope for their future.

Caitlan had secured a job, not washing clothes, but rather taking in sewing, much to Brenton's relief and approval. And Brenton, though not formally commissioned to take pictures of the ground breaking, had decided to approach the persons in charge during the celebration and see if he couldn't convince them to hire him on. It seemed that everything was working together in proper order, and with the last of their money, Brenton purchased food, a few pots and dishes, two lanterns, and several other items to better equip their new house.

Though Caitlan had proved to be a wonderful cook thus far in their journey, Jordana now began to take more of an interest in the task. She reasoned that she would need to know basic cooking skills for the time when she actually decided to go her own way and explore out across the country.

They were just sitting down to Caitlan's mouthwatering stew when a knock sounded at the front door.

“Oh, I'll get it,” Jordana told the others. She got up from her packing-crate chair and rolled her eyes. “It's probably Mr. Chittenden. Do you know that man is positively lost without me? I don't know how he managed to get this far in banking without my help.”

Caitlan and Brenton laughed at her melodramatic performance while Jordana went to the door.

“Yes?” she said without waiting to see who it was on the other side. She opened the door wide and was stunned at the appearance of two rather weary-looking travelers.

“Mother! Father!” she exclaimed and threw herself into their arms. “I can't believe you're here.”

James Baldwin hugged his daughter, then held her at arm's length. “Neither can we believe you are here. Last I knew, you were supposed to be getting your education at the Deighton School for Young Women. Young women of exceptional intelligence, I might add.”

Jordana laughed, completely undaunted by her father's serious expression. “I graduated and now I'm getting my education elsewhere, Father. It's just not in those stuffy, hallowed halls.”

“Well, are you going to have us in?” Carolina Baldwin asked her daughter.

“Absolutely,” Jordana said, taking a step back. “Look here, Brenton. Look who has come to see us in our new house.”

The color suddenly drained from Brenton's face, and his stunned look made Jordana laugh. “I haven't seen him look like that since I got shot in Missouri.”

“What!” Carolina and James exclaimed at the same time.

“Oh, it's a funny story,” Jordana quipped, pulling her mother into the house. “I'll tell you everything over supper, but first you must come meet Kiernan's sister Caitlan. She came to America while you were in Russia.”

Carolina smiled at the redheaded young woman and nodded. “We heard all about it from Mrs. Vanderbilt. When we went to the Deighton School to locate you, we were led to the Vanderbilts. As soon as Mrs. Vanderbilt learned you were to be in Omaha for the ground breaking of the Union Pacific she notified us. And since your father wanted to check into investing in this whole transcontinental scheme—”

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Baldwin,” James interrupted. “Who wanted to check into investing?”

Carolina grinned rather mischievously. “All right, so we both were interested. Anyway, knowing you were here, it made taking the journey to Omaha seem quite logical.”

“As you can see, we don't have much in the way of furniture,” Jordana apologized as she motioned her parents to the last two crates. She was now glad Caitlan had thought to take the extra crates for guests. “We've been bartering for what we could get our hands on. My employer, Mr. Chittenden, gave us a few things on loan. The table, a bed, and, of course, our lovely bench where Caitlan and Brenton are sitting.”

Brenton had been so shocked at the presence of his parents that he'd forgotten all about getting to his feet. Now he jumped up. “Mother, please take the bench.”

“Well, we don't want to interrupt your dinner,” Carolina said, taking it all in. “Why don't you go ahead and eat and—”

“But you must eat with us. I know things don't look very nice,” Brenton said rather apologetically. “And we might have to share the plates and silver, but”—and for the first time, Brenton took on an expression of pure pride—“Caitlan is a great cook and there's plenty of stew and biscuits.”

Carolina smiled at her son and reached up her gloved hand to touch his cheek. “It looks just fine,” she said, seeming to understand that her approval meant the world to Brenton.

An hour later, when the last of the stew had been eaten, Caitlan asked Jordana and Brenton to allow her to clean up while they walked their parents back to the hotel.

“I'm surprised you found a room,” Brenton told his father as they strolled ahead of the women.

Jordana heard her father murmur something about receiving help in that area due to the possibility of his investment in the Union Pacific.

“I can't tell you how worried we were when we couldn't find you,” Carolina told her daughter.

“I'm sorry for that. It just seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.” Jordana looped her arm in Carolina's. “Oh, Mother, I'm so happy. I'm living the life you always dreamed of. I wake up every morning and picture the things that might come my way, and I can't imagine living any other life.”

Carolina patted her daughter's arm with understanding. “I can't believe I'm actually going to say this, but what about the dangers? You are a single woman, and if you choose to take off on your own, as you've mentioned numerous times, you must realize the problems you could find yourself up against.”

Jordana tried to look serious, but the attempt failed in her unabashed delight. “I know. I've thought about all of that and . . . well . . . when I weigh it against the thought of settling for a simple, sweet life with a boring little house and a boring little husband, it seems to tip the scales. Taking a chance doesn't worry me,” she added more earnestly. “But losing your approval does.”

“Oh, my dearest, you would hardly lose that. I'd admire your fearlessness and, in fact, I rather envy your youth and abilities. I know I can't hold you back—and still sleep in good conscience. I can't become a worrisome mother who chides her daughter for the very choices she herself would have made had opportunities been different.”

“I knew you would feel this way!” Jordana smiled in assurance. “I can't tell you how I envied Victoria when she and Kiernan went to California. I used to have to pray every day that God might forgive my envy.” She looked up ahead to where Brenton and her father spoke in hushed tones. Brenton held the lantern to guide their way, but the light was minimal, and Jordana thought they actually might have seen better without it. Still, it allowed her to catch the shadowy outline of her father's face as he glanced over his shoulder to confirm that his wife and daughter were still following safely behind.

“He won't understand,” Jordana told her mother. “He will worry about me.”

“Your father worries for all of us. It is the way of men. Even when they aren't responsible for the circumstances, they worry. Your father once told me it was rather like the army. A general is still responsible, even when the lowliest private makes an error in judgment.”

“But the private still suffers the consequences of his actions,” Jordana replied.

“Perhaps to some extent, but he does not bear it alone,” Carolina countered. “A private can make a choice that will in turn threaten the lives of those around him. Then they, too, suffer from his poor choice, and the one in charge of all suffers most because the crisis came upon his watch.”

Jordana nodded, understanding what her mother was saying. “Men think so differently from women.”

They rounded the corner to the main street and walked on toward the hotel. The saloons were doing a lively business on this mild winter night, and thus the men held back a pace or two and allowed the women to come up even with them.

“Brenton's been telling me of your adventures,” James said, putting an arm around his daughter. “It's a wonder you're still alive. Did you really scale the Deighton School?”

“What's this?” Carolina looked first to her son and then to Jordana. “Why, those buildings are all at least four stories tall.”

Jordana grinned. “I was much younger then.”

They all laughed at this as they reached the hotel.

“I'll be taking pictures at the ground-breaking ceremony,” Brenton told his parents.

“How long will you be here in Omaha?” Jordana asked her parents.

“We had only planned to stay long enough to retrieve you two and return home after the matters of the railroad were better understood,” James replied. “But now I see that neither of you are of a mind to return to New York, or even Baltimore.”

Jordana thought she denoted a tone of sorrow in her father's voice. “Someone should stay out here to keep you apprised of the progress of the railroad,” she said with a winning smile she knew would disarm him.

James looked at Carolina and nodded. “I suppose so. It's just hard to let you go.”

“But you aren't letting me go, Papa,” Jordana said, placing her head upon his shoulder. “You are merely lending me out for a time.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I'll be back, and then I shall have even more wonderful stories to share.”

“You're awfully young,” James whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

Jordana worried that soon they'd both be in tears if she didn't say or do something to lighten the mood. But for the life of her, there didn't seem to be anything left to say. Her parents were struggling to make a decision about allowing her to go her own way. It was tough enough that they had given her up to boarding school in the North, then journeyed to Europe. And, as her father pointed out, she was very young.

Lifting her head, Jordana said nothing but kissed her father on the cheek. Their eyes met and she knew in that instant that, while he didn't like the idea of leaving her in the West, he understood. And understanding was enough to set her on her course.

The bare branches of cottonwoods swayed gently in the mild, wintry breeze as James and Carolina Baldwin stood on the Omaha docks with their children and Caitlan O'Connor. Jordana could not believe the time had come for her parents to leave. She was assailed with a perplexing mixture of sadness and anticipation. She would miss her parents as she had so often during their previous separation. Yet the departure of James and Carolina held a deeper meaning for Jordana because it showed what deep faith they had in their children. No doubt, it showed even more just how deep their faith was in God to protect their children. Nevertheless, it meant a certain acknowledgment that Jordana and Brenton were indeed worthy to be allowed such great independence. Jordana prayed mightily that she would not disappoint them.