Chapter 8

The long burst of a steam whistle and the squeal of brakes grated on Elise’s nerves, causing a shiver to creep up her backbone. She huddled deeper into her threadbare woolen coat, the cool morning temperature reminding her winter was coming and that she was doing the right thing, even though everything within her protested having to leave.

“I’ll miss you.” Marianne swiped the tears from her flushed cheeks, only to have them replaced with more.

Sophie was dry-eyed, her shoulders rigid and her chin jutting, signs she was trying to remain strong. Olivia and Nicholas clung to the young girl, their eyes haunted with the memory of one abandonment, and their faces etched with the fear of another.

“I promise I’ll be back.” Elise touched their sandy-brown heads. They didn’t respond except to continue to stare up at her. She was coming back. They had to believe she wouldn’t leave them indefinitely, that she wouldn’t do this if there were any other way.

As it was, she was one of the fortunate the Children’s Aid Society had added to their placing-out list. She’d gone to the office they’d temporarily established in a building at the corner of Broadway and Amity Streets. She was made to stand in line all day. When she finally had her turn for an interview, she was overheated, thirsty, and wilted. She’d perched on the edge of the chair on the opposite side of the desk from the austere aid worker.

At that moment, her desire for a position in the West was so keen her legs began trembling beneath her skirt. She was afraid the worker would hear her knees knocking together. The worker had read Miss Pendleton’s letter, which praised her seamstress skills and attested to her good character. Without it, Elise doubted she would have been accepted.

Now, three days later, standing at the train depot and saying good-bye to her family, she was once again overcome with doubt. What had possessed her to think she wanted to move?

The ding-ding of a bell nearby and the laughter of children somewhere down the station platform were too cheerful for the occasion. Another loud whistle sounded, this one coming from the engine a short distance away. Black steam billowed from its chimney, filling the air with the smell of burning coal. A broad-boned woman wearing a severe-looking day suit appeared in a doorway of the passenger car closest to Elise. She didn’t step down but instead surveyed the gathering on the platform, the other sniffling and sad-faced women and their families.

Was this woman a placing agent from the Children’s Aid Society? The one assigned to accompany them to their new positions and make sure they were properly employed and housed?

Elise’s mouth went dry again just thinking about all the changes that awaited her in the days to come. What if things didn’t work out the way she hoped? What if she wasn’t given seamstress work? What if she arrived and discovered there was no employment whatsoever? What if she ended up stuck in the West with no means to return to her family or tell them what had become of her?

Elise couldn’t hold back another shiver, this one more of a shudder in its intensity. She closed her eyes and wished she could pray, wished she could draw confidence in God like Mutti always had. But a wall stood in the way. It had been there for a long time, and Elise wasn’t sure how to scale it.

“Ladies, your attention, please!” the hefty woman on the train called in a singsong voice. “Ladies, please!”

The crowd gradually faded to silence as their sights shifted to the woman. She clapped her hands vigorously several times until finally everyone was looking at her.

She straightened her hat, which had tipped to an awkward angle during her clapping. “I am Miss Shaw of the Children’s Aid Society. I’m pleased to let you know that I’ll be accompanying you during your lovely journey to the wholesome towns and cities of the West where you will begin your desirable new employment and your wonderful new lives.” Her tone was much too chirpy, like a little bird happy to see spring.

Did she not realize how difficult this was for all of them?

“Please finish your good-byes with all haste,” Miss Shaw continued, “and then form a line to board the train.”

A flutter of panic set to flight in Elise’s stomach. This was it. She was really going.

Marianne clutched her arm, and her tears flowed unchecked. “Oh, Elise, are we doing the right thing?”

Elise drew Marianne into an embrace and squeezed her. “I hope so. I truly hope so.”

Marianne wrapped her arms around Elise as though she wouldn’t let go. Her muffled sobs tore at Elise’s heart.

A painful ache throbbed in Elise’s throat, but she forced it down and pried herself away from Marianne. “Promise you’ll do everything you can to take care of the children.”

Marianne bobbed her head.

“If I know you and Miss Pendleton are watching over everyone, then I’ll be able to go without feeling so terrible about it.”

“I promise,” Marianne said through a half sob.

Before leaving the mission for the long walk to the train station, Elise had said her good-bye to Miss Pendleton and thanked her for all she’d done for them. The kind woman once again assured Elise she’d watch over the others, that they could stay at the mission for as long as they needed. When she’d said good-bye to Reinhold last night, he promised to watch over her family too.

Another burst from the steam whistle rose in the air like a sharp command, dictating Elise to go. She hugged Nicholas and Olivia before turning to Sophie. Unlike Marianne, Sophie didn’t fall into her arms. Instead, the girl’s thin body was stiff and her eyes empty. Had she cried one too many tears already in her short life so that she had none left?

“Be a good girl for Marianne,” Elise said as she cupped Sophie’s cheek. “Obey her in everything.”

“She’s not Mutti,” Sophie said, her lip trembling.

“I know she’s not. Neither of us can ever replace Mutti. But we promised Mutti we’d take care of you.”

“I’m getting old enough to think for myself,” Sophie replied.

Sophie’s answers only tightened the knot of anxiety inside Elise. But she wasn’t surprised by them since Sophie, already forced to grow up too early, was on the cusp of womanhood.

Elise pressed her cold fingers against Sophie’s cheek in one last caress. “Please promise you’ll be careful.”

Sophie gave a brief nod before hugging Olivia and Nicholas closer.

“Ladies, ladies!” Miss Shaw called out again in her melodic voice. “You must board our train right away or risk being left behind.”

Elise reached for the carpetbag near her feet. It was in almost new condition, with a bold blue-and-gold Oriental design. Elise felt entirely out of place carrying a bag so fine. But Miss Pendleton had insisted she have it, claiming she had no need of it herself anymore.

With a final kiss to Marianne’s wet cheek, Elise spun away from her family and forced herself to join the line of women boarding the train. Once Miss Shaw confirmed her name was on the list, Elise looked back over her shoulder and caught a last glimpse of Marianne and Sophie. In the crowd, their forlorn faces were all she saw.

The pain in her throat swelled again. She hesitated in the doorway, unsure if she could go through with this and step inside. But the woman behind her released an irritated sigh that propelled Elise onto the train, away from what mattered most to her in the world. Somehow she managed to take halting steps into the passenger car full of women. On either side of the aisle, the benches faced each other so that women were clustered in groups of four. Elise searched for an open spot in one of the groups and swallowed her trepidation.

Most of the women were already settled in, their hats and coats hanging on pegs next to the windows, their bags stowed by their feet or under benches, their eager gazes studying the train’s interior. Like her, this was probably the first time most of them had ever ridden on a locomotive.

“Are you going to stand for the duration of the trip?” the woman behind her said in a testy voice, “or are you planning to take a seat?”

Elise made her way down the aisle, tripping over feet and bags that protruded in her way. As she stumbled toward the rear of the passenger car, one of the faces in the last seat caught her attention. It was a pretty, freckled face hemmed by stray red curls that had escaped the headscarf holding them captive.

Fanny O’Leary. The Irish seamstress who had made her life miserable these past weeks. What was she doing here? How had a woman of her loose living managed to convince the Children’s Aid Society to allow her a place on the list?

Fanny happened to glance up at the same moment Elise was looking at her. Something like fear flashed in Fanny’s eyes before she lowered her head and stared at her hands folded tightly in her lap. She shrank, as though she were trying to make herself invisible.

What if Fanny had lied to the Children’s Aid Society about her past? What if they believed she had an unblemished reputation?

“Please, take your seats, ladies!” Miss Shaw’s voice rang through the car. “There should be adequate space for everyone.”

Though the spot next to Fanny was empty, Elise moved to the set of benches across the aisle and situated herself beside a young lady who was staring out the window with tears running down her cheeks. On the opposite bench, two hefty women who looked alike enough to be sisters sat chatting quietly to each other. They paused only briefly to nod at Elise as she sat down.

Miss Shaw started giving instructions, pointing to a closet behind Fanny’s bench, indicating it was the toilet. Now that Elise was situated, she caught a whiff of the sourness of the closet and realized why the back seats had been the last to fill.

Water for drinking was located in an area behind Elise, and a coal-burning stove was positioned at the front to provide warmth if the night air became too chilly. With all the women packed closely together along with their belongings, Elise doubted they would be anything but overly warm, as she was now. The wooden slats that made up the walls of the train car seemed sturdy enough to keep out the wind and weather.

She shrugged out of her coat, trying not to bump the weeping woman next to her. Suddenly the train lurched, and Elise grabbed the bench to steady herself. Under her feet came a squeal, metal against metal, and a slow churning of wheels.

As the train strained forward, the landscape out the window began to change and Elise felt strangely dizzy. She knew from Reverend Bedell that eventually the train would work its way up to speeds that went faster than a horse. She could hardly imagine what that might be like when already the brick buildings outside were sliding past much too rapidly.

The noise from the engine whistle and the rattling and shaking of their passenger car made speaking to one another difficult—not that Elise wanted to carry on any conversations. Maybe she wasn’t grieving as openly as the woman next to her, but she was mourning her losses just the same. The keenest loss of all echoed through her mind and kept rhythm with the churning wheels. She’d failed her sisters again. Failed again. Failed again. Failed again.

Thornton opened his eyes with a start. The train was no longer moving, and the slow hissing of the boiler and the silence of the pistons told him they’d stopped.

He sat up in his seat and peered out the window. At the sight of the homey, two-story train depot, white with red shutters, he knew they were in Pine Grove.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked the attendant who’d been assigned to his private car.

“Taking on a few more passengers, sir.” The young man was attired in a crisp navy suit, polished black leather shoes, and a black derby.

Thornton rubbed his hands across his tired eyes. “Do I have time to get a cup of coffee?”

“Aye, sir. Other passengers have disembarked too.”

“Very well.” Thornton allowed the attendant to help him back into his suit coat. He stifled a yawn as the man opened the door, allowing the bright noon sun into the train car. The lack of sleep over the past week in New York City had finally caught up with him. Not only had he been busy lining up new workers, but he’d tried to make the most of every opportunity to spend time with Rosalind Beaufort. The late-night parties, dances, and the opera had all taken their toll.

He descended the metal step onto the platform and took a deep breath of the fresh country air. Seeing the quiet and quaint town that surrounded the depot soothed his frayed nerves. As he started for the depot, he realized he was actually relieved to be leaving behind the whirlwind schedule. No, he wasn’t relieved to say good-bye to Rosalind. Most definitely not. He would miss her. Or at least he wanted to miss her.

He was simply anxious to return to Quincy, he told himself. Before departing, he’d tasked Du Puy with hiring more construction workers and sending them out as soon as possible. In the meantime, Thornton had taken care of meeting with representatives of the Children’s Aid Society’s placing-out program. He gave them the specifics of exactly the kind of women he needed. Just yesterday they assured him that ten of the forty women leaving this week were his. In fact, the agent leading the group, Miss Shaw, had introduced herself to him that very morning before they’d left New York and had reassured him he was getting the best of the women.

Swallowing another yawn, he brushed past the other passengers lingering on the platform and entered the depot. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drew him to the scant tables and chairs that comprised the dining room, which was no more than an area of ten feet squared. Even if his town was smaller than Pine Grove, he’d had the foresight to plan for a much larger eating area in anticipation of the people who would one day disembark at his town—at least he hoped they would.

He took a seat at one of the tables and raised a hand to the proprietor. The elderly man came quickly with a coffeepot and cup. Once he had the murky sludge in hand, Thornton sat back, the spindles of the chair uncomfortable against his back. He took a sip of the liquid and almost spit it out. It had a distinctly burnt flavor.

He sighed and was about to raise his hand and call the proprietor over again when a woman entering the depot caught his attention. She had pale blond hair that was braided and coiled at the back of her head, exposing a long elegant neck. From the side, her profile was very pretty, her chin and cheeks and nose strong in a fresh, natural way. When he realized several other male patrons’ heads had also turned her direction, a prick of guilt needled him. He shouldn’t have eyes for other women, not when he was trying so hard to focus on Rosalind.

Against his will, his eyes returned to the lovely woman. He had the strange feeling he’d seen her before, though he couldn’t place where. When she stepped away from door and turned to survey the depot, he had full view of her face and her eyes. Blue eyes, the color of the wide-open prairie sky.

He had seen her before. His mind scrambled to remember her name and where he’d met her. At the same moment, her gaze swept the room and came to a halt on his face. Her eyes widened with clear recognition.

Think, think, he admonished himself, even as he smiled at her, pushed back from the table and stood. What was her name?

She returned his smile, albeit tentatively.

He could feel the attention of the other men in the room shift to him, and before he could stop himself, he crossed the room to greet her. “Hi,” he said, wondering why he felt so breathless.

“Hello,” she said, tucking a wispy strand of her hair behind her ear and watching him, obviously waiting for him to be the first to speak.

“Do you remember me?” he asked stupidly. “I’m Thornton Quincy.”

“Yes, I remember you.” She cocked her head slightly and quirked one of her brows.

If only he could get her to say her name, then he might be able to place her. “How have you been?”

“Unemployed, but thankfully I have a new job.” The word thankfully came out sounding like tankfully. Ah yes, the German accent.

“And what’s your new job?” Was she part of the Children’s Aid Society’s group traveling on the train? He studied her face, grasping for any hint that might identify her.

“I’m going to California to pan for gold.”

A woman? Pan for gold?

Again she waited for him to speak, and this time a glimmer of humor sparked in her eyes that told him she wasn’t serious. Suddenly he remembered when he’d met her. He’d rescued her the day of the Dead Rabbits Riot and had accompanied her back to the mission. During the time he’d been trapped there, she was good company.

But what was her name? Irene? Elaine? Eleanor?

“So have you figured out who I am yet?” she asked.

“I’m slowly piecing it together,” he confessed.

“You’ve forgotten my name, haven’t you?”

“I’m ashamed to admit that I have.”

“Elise Neumann.”

“Elise.” Now it came back to him. “I knew it started with an E. Can you give me credit for that?”

The door of the depot opened behind them, bringing with it the burst of the train whistle, the signal they’d soon be departing. Around them, passengers began making their way outside.

“Do you need anything before we leave?” Thornton asked with a wave toward the dining room, the tables now littered with empty bowls, spoons, and mugs. “You’ll have to get something quickly.”

“Miss Shaw gave us an apple and wedge of cheese,” she answered, “and now I’m completely satisfied.” At the hint of sarcasm in her voice, the memory of his time at the mission came rushing back. He’d genuinely enjoyed spending time with Elise. How could he have forgotten her name?

“Then you are with the group of woman from the Children’s Aid Society?”

“Yes.” She followed the others to the door, and he accompanied her, holding the door wide as she exited into the September sunshine. “They’ve assured me I’ll have a job waiting for me in Illinois.”

His pulse gave a strange leap. Was she one of the ten women headed for his town? “Illinois is not quite California. You won’t find any gold to pan there.”

Her lips twitched but didn’t quite make it up into a smile. At the shadow that darkened her blue eyes, he could see she wasn’t exactly thrilled about her new job prospect. She crossed to the passenger car behind his, and as she neared the step he realized he wasn’t ready for their conversation to end—not when it had just started, not when he had a dozen questions to ask her. But he had no idea how to delay her so he could talk to her longer.

He did the only thing he could think of. He took hold of her arm.

She halted abruptly and looked down at his fingers encircling her upper arm.

“What happened to the mission?” he asked. Deep inside, he already knew the answer.

“Miss Pendleton did her best to keep it open. We had work longer than most other seamstresses.”

He nodded and tried to ignore the remorse that reared up to remind him of how he’d neglected to contact Miss Pendleton about making a donation. “Your sisters and the two infants? How are they?”

Her eyes lost all mirth. “I had to leave them behind.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing he could think to say, but once the words were out, he wished he hadn’t spoken them. They were completely idiotic. He was idiotic.

“I guess that’s life,” she said in a tone edged with bitterness. “During hard times, those of us with the least always lose even more. And those with the most come out on top.”

Once again he wasn’t sure how to reply except to defend himself. “There are plenty of businesses that have been hit very hard and that have lost everything.”

She searched his face, and after a moment her eyes filled with sympathy. “Now it’s my turn to apologize.”

Did she assume he’d lost everything? That Quincy Enterprises had been hit hard? He fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t make him seem like an even bigger idiot. Because the truth was, after some initial instability, the company was doing better than ever.

“I’m doing all right,” he mumbled, not really sure he wanted to admit he was doing much more than all right, that he was likely wealthy beyond her wildest imagination. He had a feeling that if she knew he was part owner of the railroad they were riding on along with many others, she probably would never speak to him again.

And he didn’t want that to happen. The possibility of having her companionship over the next few days of journeying to Illinois was more than a little appealing.

“All aboard!” a trainman shouted from the engine cab. Behind him on the tender car, a fireman stood on top of a mountain of coal, shoveling it into the fire chamber so the fuel would heat the water inside the boiler. The steam from the boiling water would then press upon cylinders, propelling the locomotive forward. The whole idea that an entire train could run on steam power had always interested him.

Right now, however, his fascination with the locomotive engine paled in comparison with his desire to continue speaking with Elise.

“I need to go,” she said, then glanced again at his fingers holding her captive, and then at her passenger car where a few of the other ladies were in the process of boarding.

“Promise you’ll allow me to see you at the next stop? We’ll go to dinner together.” He wished he could ask her to ride with him in his private car, but not only would that be entirely inappropriate, it would also give away his wealthy status, which wasn’t something he was ready to do at this point. Maybe if she got to know him better before he said anything, she might be more tolerant of the difference in their situations.

“If I promise,” she said with humor lightening the blue of her eyes, “then you’ll allow me to return to my seat?”

“Something like that.”

“I guess you leave me no choice but to promise.”

He smiled and released her. “I’m rather good at twisting arms.”

“Perhaps you should consider it for a full-time occupation.” She started walking away from him, and when she flashed him a smile over her shoulder, his chest swelled as though she’d handed him an award.