A Bride at Last (39 page)

Silas stopped in front of her, holding his hat in front of him like a chastened schoolboy. “You wouldn’t happen to know which tavern your husband frequents?”

“This week?” She chuffed. “I don’t keep up with that anymore, but Gordon O’Connor, the bartender at the Lucky Devil, tends to know everything going on in that part of town. He’s the one I talk to when I have to track Richard down myself.”

“Thanks.” Silas shifted his weight. “Could I ask your name?”

“Why?” The woman’s body stiffened.

“I’d like to pray for you, figured it’d be good to know your Christian name.”

Kate smiled at her husband. She may have married just as quickly as Mrs. Fitzgerald, but she’d definitely not chosen a man who’d run amok like Richard.

“I don’t know what good it’ll do me unless you pray my husband kicks the bucket, but the name’s Muriel.”

“I appreciate you letting me look through your house, Muriel. We’ll bother you no longer.” Silas held out his hand to help Kate up.

“Wait.” She glanced at the table beside her. “Do you have
a pen and paper? I’d like to leave our information in case you hear something.”

“Sure.”

After she’d written down their name and address, they awkwardly took their leave.

Kate frowned at the birds pecking apart their sandwiches on the far-off bench. “What’s the plan now?”

“Get you settled somewhere.”

“Mrs. Fitzgerald recommended the Blue Lantern on Pine and Lookout.”

He turned them around, heading toward Pine. “Let’s go there first and find something to eat before I start looking for Richard. Once I find him, I’ll trail him to where he’s bedding down for the night. If Anthony’s not there . . .” He shrugged and tucked her arm into his, his voice low and defeated. “We go home.”

She wanted to insist on looking with him, but her fingers were icy and the sleep she’d gotten on the train hadn’t been enough. With how little he’d slept, she could imagine how tired he must be as well, but how could she insist they both rest with Anthony missing? “You don’t sound too hopeful.”

Silas shook his head. “I don’t think he’s here, though I’ll check as well as I can to be sure. But since Muriel said Richard wasn’t home because he owes money, I doubt he would’ve had enough to travel to Kansas.”

She played with the button on his cuff as they walked toward the busier part of town, trying not to let Silas’s quiet resignation steal her hope. Turning onto Lookout, she pointed to the green two-story building with a blue lantern painted on its hanging sign.

He led them across the street and opened the boardinghouse’s front door.

The heat was welcoming, though no one greeted them. At least the place looked sturdy enough to withstand a strong
wind, unlike Mrs. Grindall’s. As Kate pulled off her mittens, she caught Silas’s eye and gave him a smile.

Though he attempted to smile back, his lips didn’t turn up enough to hide his worry.

“I wish I could make things better for you, Silas.”

He looked at her the way he had after he’d kissed her at the Breton train station. “Maybe we can figure out something when I return.”

Her heartbeat accelerated. “Don’t tempt me to wish you back quickly, since one of us needs to find our son.”

He tapped the bell on the front desk. “I like the sound of that.”

The bell sounded fairly ordinary. “Sound of what?”

“
Our son
.”

She shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind that I claim him.”

He bent down to kiss her neck right below her ear, and whispered, “As long as I get to claim you later.”

She closed her eyes and prayed for Anthony, so she didn’t selfishly pray for Silas to stay behind with her.

As their rented coach slowed to a stop, Silas tightened his arm around his sleeping wife to keep her from falling forward. Kissing her hair, he breathed in the scent of her. “We’re here, love.”

She mumbled something incoherently, and her head rolled over onto his shoulder.

He’d stayed out until three in the morning last night, waiting for Richard to go to whatever place he was currently calling home. When Richard and another drunk had stumbled all the way from the Dirty Goat to a dilapidated house, he’d returned to the boardinghouse to catch a few hours of sleep only to find Kate still awake. When he’d chastised her for not sleeping, she’d said she felt guilty for being warm and comfortable when he had
to be as tired as she was. So she’d roused herself with several cups of coffee and had prayed the whole time, just like she said she was sure he’d have done in her position.

He shook his head at himself. How had he ever worried about her following in Lucy’s footsteps?

He’d gone back out at dawn to make certain Anthony wasn’t in the shack with Richard, which he wasn’t. But if Anthony hadn’t been abducted, where could he be? Maybe he hadn’t been the best pa, but he couldn’t have been as bad as Richard. He loved his son, not for what he could do for him, but for the simple fact that he was his. So why had the boy run?

He’d not stop looking for him until there were no more stones to overturn. So back to Salt Flatts they would go, see if the townsfolk had discovered anything helpful, and then decide where to go from there.

But when he’d returned to the boardinghouse wanting to scramble back under the covers with Kate, she’d already packed their belongings and then convinced him to go to Raytown. She’d guessed he’d not spend the money to come to Missouri again just to look for his sister, so she wanted to do so before leaving.

Raytown’s sheriff had known of one Jewel in town, a woman who’d once taught at the grade school. Evidently she’d come into his office many years ago, after an older student hadn’t been thrilled with her for punishing him for excessive tardiness and had given her a black eye in protest.

The school’s superintendent had told them which church Jewel used to attend, and one of the deacons gave them an address. The man hadn’t given them much hope that she’d be the correct Jewel since he said she looked nothing like Silas.

The coach stopped, and the driver hollered that they’d arrived.

Silas kissed Kate’s forehead again. “Gotta get up.”

She yawned and shook herself. “Maybe you were right. We should’ve slept in before we left.”

“Too late now.” His chuckle came out more nervous than he’d anticipated. Looking out the window, the large house they’d stopped in front of easily dwarfed every building back in Salt Flatts. A wrap-around porch stretched across two sides of the two-story house, with a small third-story crow’s nest peeping up above the top gables. Balls scattered around the yard and a porch swing decorated with ribbon indicated children. What would it have been like to grow up in such a fine place? He’d wanted to find some relatives, but could he have much in common with people of such wealth?

Getting out of the carriage first, he told the driver to wait, then helped a wobbly, bleary-eyed Kate out of the vehicle. He stood, blowing out his shaky breath, wishing he knew of something besides alcohol that could settle his overreacting heart.

Kate grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. “Standing outside for hours won’t change what you’ll find.”

Oh, but it had with Lucy—he’d missed asking for her forgiveness by about fifteen minutes. Not a regret he wanted to deal with again, so he shoved his feet forward. At the door, he knocked, and Kate tightened his tie as if making him presentable would determine whether or not his sister would accept him—if they’d found his sister.

A woman old enough to be his mother opened the door, and he couldn’t find his voice. He’d only thought to find a sister, but what if they’d found his mother as well?

The older woman looked between the two of them. “Are the Coopers expecting you?”

Silas shook his head. He should’ve realized by the woman’s attire and the huge house that she was a servant of some kind. “I’m sorry to show up unexpected, but someone who knew I was looking for lost family members told me I had a sister named
Jewel in Raytown. I was hoping to visit with Mrs. Cooper today to confirm or deny such a thing.”

“Mrs. Cooper’s at home, so I’ll see what she says.” The lady opened the door wider and bustled toward another open door. “Please take a seat in the blue room. May I get you some tea or water while you wait?”

Silas shook his head, but Kate asked for water for the both of them.

The dainty blue chairs all looked too weak for a farmer like him to sit upon, but he followed Kate to a settee where she sat smiling at him, patting the spot beside her. But his nerves wouldn’t let him sit.

“You look like you’ve never seen furniture before.”

“Not anything like this. You don’t see such finery in orphanages or farmhouses.”

“Silas?” A lilt of a voice made him turn around. A dainty blond woman of perhaps forty looked at him with bright blue-green eyes. She didn’t look a thing like him, and yet, had he given the housekeeper his name?

“Yes?”

She came over with arms open wide and embraced him. He brought up his arm awkwardly and patted her. She didn’t look like his recollection of his mother either, yet she acted as if she knew him.

She tipped her head back and smiled. “My, you’re tall.”

He was five ten—nowhere near Dex Stanton’s height, though this lady appeared to be barely over five feet. “Jewel?”

“Don’t you remember me?” She stepped back and put on a small pout. “I guess the last time I saw you, you were only three, maybe four.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you sure I’m the Silas you know?”

“Yes, you look just like your father.”

For some reason, having someone know what his father
looked like and that he bore a resemblance made him want to cry. He had family! He cleared his throat again, hoping his words didn’t crack. “So you must look like our mother.”

“No, I look like
my
father.” She smiled and patted his arm. “Let me check on the tea and cookies I told Mavis to put together, and then I’ll tell you all I know. I’m so glad you found me.”

Watching her scurry away, he staggered over to Kate, whose smile was as big as her face. “Oh, Silas. I’m so glad something’s going right for you.”

“What?” He grabbed one of her hands tight between his and squeezed hard, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “This isn’t the first thing. You and Anthony are. No matter what Jewel tells me, you’re my life now.”

“Tea’s here.” Jewel almost sang as she came back in through the door trailing Mavis, who carried in a large silver tea set.

Too bad. The shine in Kate’s eyes had promised him a really good kiss if they hadn’t been interrupted.

Jewel lowered herself into the dainty chair across from them. Her blue silk dress made her eyes shine like her name. “Your wife, I presume?”

“I’m sorry.” Where were his manners? “This is my wife, Kate.” He couldn’t help the smile at saying those words. “And I’m Silas Jonesey, but you already knew that.”

“Jonesey?” She huffed with interest and picked up the teapot. “I figured they’d probably change your name to something easier to say, but that certainly isn’t anything close.”

“My name?” His throat dried. “What’s my name?”

“
Shuh-bel-ski
spelled P-r-z-y-b-y-l-s-k-i.”

What had she spelled?

She laughed. “That’s the exact look Ma always got after introducing herself during the years she was married to your pa. I find it fun to spell at least.”

“But you’re not a . . . a
Shubbel-es-key
?”

“No. I’m a Marchman, though my father was actually a Mumstedsman. And if a Mumstedsman thought he ought to change his name when he came to the United States, you’d think your father’s father would’ve changed his name too.”

Kate squeezed his knee and leaned forward. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Silas tells me all he remembers is the day his mother left him at the orphanage.”

“You remember nothing more than that?” At the negative shake of his head, Jewel straightened and began passing out tea. “Then, of course. Our mother’s name was Grace, though she didn’t seem to have found much of it in her life. She married my father, John Marchman, when she was barely sixteen, had six children, four surviving infancy. I’m the eldest. When I was ten, my father was thrown from a horse and died. Though he’d been a good husband and father, he wasn’t rich. Mother couldn’t afford to remain single and your father, Peter Przybylski, was willing to marry her, but . . .” Jewel shrugged and gave a sad sigh. “He had particular views on how family ought to be. He was willing to be a provider . . . for his own children. He wouldn’t marry Mother unless we were farmed out to Father’s siblings. Since my father had seven brothers and two sisters, that was easy enough. Though your father was a bit rough around the edges, he still let Mother see us. He sent us a gold dollar on our birthdays, and when we came over for Christmas, he gave us each a peppermint stick. You had an older brother named Lawrence, but he died of the flu along with your father when you were three.”

“I knew I had a brother.” That one memory of a sibling had torn at him—he’d wondered why his mother had loved his brother more than him since she’d not taken them both to the orphanage.