Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters) (10 page)

He stared into her eyes, and she couldn’t look away. Some unseen force connected them in a way she didn’t understand. Her stomach tightened and her heart fluttered, but still she couldn’t break the visual contact. Finally, he blew out a deep breath and turned his attention out the window. She sat with her hands clasped until Georgia gave a soft snort that woke her up.

Maggie moved back beside her, and they started a conversation.

After several minutes, Georgia lifted her gaze toward Maggie’s curls. “You know, a funny thing happened before I left Portland.”

“Really? What?” Maggie clasped her hands around her crossed knee.

“I thought I saw you.” Georgia gave a short laugh. “I even followed the man and young woman until they went inside a store. Her hair looked just like yours. Same color, same curls. She wore it pulled back with a ribbon like you used to when you were younger. But she looked to be the same age as you. She walked the same way you do. I thought maybe you and Flo had come to Portland to surprise me.”

This was really interesting. Even Charles had turned from the window to listen.

“So how did you find out it wasn’t me?”

Georgia stared down the aisle toward where the conductor had entered the car. “She stopped to feel a silk scarf on the counter. Her skin looked a lot like yours only with a bit of a tan, like she had been out in the sun a lot. And her nose was covered with freckles.”

Maggie giggled. “Mine would be too if I didn’t protect it.”

“I’ve heard that sometimes people meet someone who has an uncanny resemblance to themselves.” Charles stared at Maggie. “Maybe this person is your double. Perhaps we could find her if we went to Portland.”

“She might have come from anywhere. Right, Aunt Georgia?” Maggie would like to meet the woman, but that wasn’t very likely.
My double?
That would really be something, wouldn’t it?

Chapter 9

By the time the beautiful sunset spread across the sky behind the train and faded into twilight, Maggie was thoroughly exhausted. The thin padding of the train seat had all but disappeared, and her backside felt as if she were riding on a slab of rock. She stood and stretched to get the kinks out of her shoulders, then donned the spencer once again. Since the sun took the warmth with it, the railway car was now getting rather cool.

“We still have a little food left in the basket.” Georgia pulled it from under the seat. “Perhaps we should finish eating all of it before anything spoils.”

Maggie dropped back onto the bench, then wished she had one of the thick pillows from her bed back home to sit on. But more than that, she wished she had some inkling of what they’d find in Arkansas and if she could learn anything about her past from her grandmother. Was she on a futile journey? She hoped not.

Georgia parceled out the remaining three sandwiches. Maggie sank her teeth into the roast beef between thick slices of buttered, hearty wheat bread. Charles reached into the basket for the three Mason jars half-full of water and handed one to each of the women before screwing the lid off his. The liquid was lukewarm from sitting on the hot train all day, but Maggie’s throat welcomed the fluid as an accompaniment to her sandwich.

“This stuff tastes good, doesn’t it?” Georgia slowly chewed her first bite. “I’m going to savor it while I can. We probably won’t get good cooking like Mrs. Jorgensen’s every place we stop.”

Soon Maggie had eaten all her sandwich. She picked up one of the last three apples. “I’m going to eat this and save the cookie for breakfast in case we don’t have anything else. Since they’re oatmeal raisin, it will almost be like eating the cooked cereal.”

“It’ll probably taste better.” The face Charles made indicated to Maggie that he might not like hot oatmeal.

Charles finished off his apple and held out his hand for Georgia’s and Maggie’s cores. He headed to the end of the car and went out on the little platform. When he came back in, the cores were gone. How easy it was to toss things away. Had her mother tossed her away like an unwanted apple core? The thought hurt more than she’d anticipated. She didn’t want to be just someone’s unwanted garbage.

The conductor worked his way down the car, lighting the small lamps attached to the walls. Even though the light gave only a feeble yellow glow, Maggie welcomed the respite from total darkness. When the man finished that job, he started at one end of the railcar and folded out the berths where people were sitting. Several rows were empty, even the benches across the aisle from where Maggie, Georgia, and Charles sat.

“You want to use one of the berths on this side too?” The conductor reached toward the latch holding the wooden contraption in place. “That way you won’t be so crowded.”

They all agreed that would be best. One of Maggie’s worries taken care of. She’d been dreading sharing a berth with Georgia. She loved her aunt dearly, but Maggie was used to sleeping by herself. She had already decided she might not get much sleep on the train because of sharing such a narrow bed. Now the problem had disappeared. She wished her other problems would disappear just as easily.

Georgia lifted her carpetbag up on the bench across from where they sat. “I’m going to just dress for bed while inside the berth.”

“Me too.” Maggie didn’t even want to pull her nightdress out of her bag with all the prying eyes around them. She’d just wait until she was inside her sleeping area.

Charles had been walking from one end of the car to the other, stretching his legs. After several passes by them, he stopped. “You two should take the bottom berths. It’ll be easier for me to climb into the upper one.”

Georgia smiled up at him. “You’re just full of good suggestions, Charles. Thanks for helping us so much.”

“Just paying for my keep.” He gave one if his signature bows, and the two women shared a laugh. “Always glad to help a pretty lady.”

His gaze drifted toward Georgia when he said that. Was the silly man flirting with her aunt?
Surely not
.

“Oh, go on with you.” Georgia waved him away. “At least you’re keeping our journey from becoming too boring.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure she agreed with her aunt. The trip had lost its luster before the middle of the afternoon, and there were so many more days to go. But she did agree that Charles kept everything lively for them.

“Do you know why we are going south before we can head east?” Charles rested one ankle on his other knee and leaned back.

“Not really.” She wondered where he was going with this conversation.

“Because the tracks lead us there.” He laughed.

“That is so obvious.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought you were going to tell us something important.” She glanced at Georgia who covered her smile with her fingertips.

“I’m sure that someday, trains will crisscross this country in many directions.” Charles lowered his eyelids as if he were thinking hard. “But right now, there are only a few places where the rails have been laid across the mountains. And that’s where we have to go. The rails will lead us into Denver. Isn’t that right, Georgia?”

Maggie noticed that his voice softened somehow when he said her aunt’s name.
What is wrong with Charles?
Didn’t he realize that Georgia was much too old for him? He needed to set his sights on someone closer to his own age.
Like me.

But Charles wouldn’t ever look at her as anything but the younger sister he never had. He hadn’t even noticed she’d grown up.

“Yes, we always spent a night in a hotel in Denver on the trips back home.”

“And who traveled with you, pretty lady?” Charles dropped his foot back to the floor and leaned both forearms on his thighs.

Pink seeped into Georgia’s cheeks. “My husband.”

Maggie had never seen such a look of consternation on Charles’s face in all the time she had known him.

“I . . . I didn’t know you were married.” He had never stuttered before either.

Georgia gazed at him for a moment before answering. “I’m not. I’m a widow.”

He gulped, then smiled. “A very lovely widow at that.”

Maggie wondered if she was going to have to put up with his flirting on the whole trip. What had come over her level-headed friend? Some chaperone he would be.

He stared out the window as the train chugged across a tall bridge over a stream below. “I read something interesting the other day.”

“And what was that?” She would welcome anything to take his mind off of flirting shamelessly with her aunt.

“You know how all the rivers run toward the West Coast.” He pointed to the water flowing under them. “It’s not like that all over the United States. The Rocky Mountain Range has an area called the Continental Divide. All the rivers on the other side of that ridge run toward the east, while all those on this side run toward the west.”

“Did you know that, Aunt Georgia?” Maggie glanced at her aunt, who had been sitting silently for a while.

“Actually, I did, but I had forgotten about it.”

Maggie stared out the window. She hadn’t forgotten how she felt when Charles had helped rid her of the crick in her neck. When his fingers first touched her shoulders, tingles traveled up and down her spine. She welcomed the warmth of his hands and felt bereft when he removed them. Because he was such a gentleman, he didn’t let them linger overlong.

She shook herself. She shouldn’t read anything more into his touch. Since he didn’t treat her any differently than he had before, she must be the only one who experienced something extra from the encounter. Clearly, she wasn’t the object of his interest. And she didn’t care. She really didn’t. At least, not much.

After bidding her companions goodnight, Maggie set her carpetbag at the end of her berth away from the lumpy pillow, then sat on the bed, pulling her feet up and closing the curtains. The mattress was thicker than the padding on the seats, but not a lot. She tugged off her shoes and set them beside the bag. She gathered her nightdress, robe, and slippers from the luggage. As she had imagined, undressing and putting on her nightclothes wasn’t easy in the confined space. Dressing in a berth at the same time as her aunt would have been virtually impossible.

After bumping her head more than once and bouncing around a little when the train went around a curve, Maggie finally had her clothes changed. She slid under the covers—a rough sheet and a scratchy blanket—far different from the luxurious covers on her bed at home. Deciding to make the best of it, she wadded the thin pillow under her head and tried to relax. During the daytime, she’d become accustomed to the unusual noises and movement of the train, but in her completely dark, solitary space, everything seemed magnified. She shifted around, trying to get comfortable, then clenched her eyes closed as tight as she could.

Sleep didn’t come. An out-of-tune symphony of snoring sounds, both soft and loud, fought for supremacy with the annoying clacking and creaking of the train. In the daytime she’d been able to push thoughts of her secret to the back of her mind. But now, in the dark of night, they haunted her. Like specters from the past, they arose and surrounded her, taunted her.

Both her mother and father had made her cry before she boarded the train, not out of cruelty, but with kindness and tenderness. Yet why would they have kept the truth of her birth from her? Didn’t they understand how cruel that was?

Other questions bombarded her. Even though Mother treated her much nicer since Daddy announced she could go on this trip, too many memories of her being critical flooded Maggie’s mind. What was wrong with her that she could never please her mother?

And most important of all, why did her real mother and father give her away? Tears leaked from her eyes, wetting much of the pillow long before she finally drifted into fitful slumber.

Chapter 10

Dressing for bed had been hard, but Maggie found that putting on her clothes before she left the protection of the berth was more of a nightmare. And she didn’t have either a mirror or a maid to help fix her hair. Because she only pulled out the hairpins but didn’t brush her hair and braid it last night, her curls were more tangled than a rat’s nest. No matter how she tried to gently brush the knots out, she only succeeded in pulling her hair, bringing fresh tears to her eyes. The tears caused by her tender scalp were soon joined by those left over from last night.
What am I doing on this train heading toward a woman who really isn’t my grandmother?
She must be crazy. But she had to meet Agatha Carter. Maybe when she talked with the famous dress designer, she’d finally get advice about her own dreams of being a designer.

Although railroad tracks looked to be smooth, the ride belied that fact. The passenger car jerked and swayed, making her task of fixing her hair even more impossible. Maybe she should just give up, climb back between the sheets, pull the covers over her head, and stay there all day.

Maggie used the brush to smooth the top of her hair, then pulled it back and tied it with a ribbon. That would have to do for today. She was tired of fighting with the mess. Why couldn’t she have sleek dark hair like Aunt Georgia? Because she really wasn’t blood kin.
That’s why.
A few more tears streamed down her cheeks. What a mess she was this morning.

Before Maggie was ready to climb out of the berth, the conductor walked the length of the car. Along the way, he called out, “Train’s gonna stop in ’bout an hour. We’ll be in the station fer a while. You’ll be able to get off and stretch your legs. Get somethin’ to eat.”

Maggie pulled her curtains back and slid her feet toward the floor. With the opportunity to get off the train for a while, maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

•••

When the engineer started applying the noisy brakes as they approached the town, Charles glanced out the window, hoping for a variety of eating places to choose from. Unfortunately, this was only a whistle stop, a small cluster of ramshackle buildings around the depot and water tank.

Georgia glanced up. “Wonder where we are.”

“In the state of Oregon.” The conductor said as he hurried past them on the way to the front of the car.

Maggie frowned. “Oregon? I thought we’d be farther than that by now.” She sounded so disappointed. Since she exited her berth, Maggie had been noticeably quieter. Every time Charles had glanced at her, she’d turned her face away, but he noticed the red splotches crying had left on her face. What was wrong with her—homesickness? They’d only just started. How would she survive the rest of the trip?

The train shuddered to a complete stop, and he stood. “Ladies, I’d like to escort you off the train. We can get some exercise, and I’ll purchase food for us.” He held out his arm to Georgia.

After she slipped her hand around one elbow, they started toward the door at the end of the car, but Maggie didn’t follow them. When Georgia glanced back at her and cleared her throat, Maggie looked up.

“All right. I’m coming.” She arose and followed their lead.

“Let us be off.” Charles helped Georgia down from the car, then turned to Maggie. “May I assist you, too, Miss Caine?”

His comment brought a tiny curl to her lips. “Of course, Mr. Stanton.” She kept her face averted from him. “I’m a real mess this morning.”

He leaned closer and whispered for her ears alone. “You could never be a mess, Maggie. Why, just look at them there curls waving in the breeze.”

The absurdity of his words teased a full-blown smile to her face.

After they exited the car, bright morning sunlight bathed them with warmth as well as brilliance. Maggie squinted until her eyes adjusted to the difference. “Where’s the town?”

“This is it.” Charles waved his arm to encompass the few buildings. They made their way over to a building labeled Hardy’s Hotel. Enticing aromas of smoked meat and biscuits met them at the swinging doors to the establishment. “Something smells good enough to eat, doesn’t it?”

With no printed menu in sight, a woman served them plates filled with ham, scrambled eggs, and hot biscuits dripping with butter. The only breakfast available for the day. Without wasting too much time with conversation, they all three enjoyed the delicious food.

After their plates were clean, Charles signaled the waitress to come to their table. “Ma’am, that was some fine cooking. Be sure to tell the cook we said so.”

“Name’s Maud, chief cook and bottle washer too.” A smile wreathed her face, and a jolly laugh shook her whole body as if she had been the first person to ever say that timeworn phrase.

“Then my compliments for your skills.” Charles tried to encourage people whenever he could.

“Well, don’t that beat all.” Maud stood a little taller. “Ain’t nobody tole me that before. Them’s mighty fancy words.”

“And sincerely spoken.” Charles winked, and both Georgia and Maggie smiled at their bantering.

Several of the other diners stopped eating and leaned forward to listen. Charles felt as if they were the floor show, and their stage was a rustic dining room with handmade tables worn smooth by who knew how many diners.

“Kin I get you and your women anything else?” Maud’s voice cut into his thoughts.

At those words, Maggie’s eyebrows rose and her mouth puckered into an O. Georgia laughed. Charles loved hearing her. She was a very young widow, but since she didn’t wear her wedding ring, her husband probably had been gone awhile. She needed attention from a man like himself. One who could appreciate her beauty and help her move on. A man with a promising future.

Charles stood and offered his hand to Maud. “I’m Charles Stanton, a businessman from Seattle, and I’m accompanying Miss Margaret Caine and her aunt, Mrs. Georgia Long, to Little Rock, Arkansas.”

The woman gave his hand a quick shake, then turned toward Maggie and Georgia. “Sorry I got that wrong. Welcome to Hardy. Ole Will Hardy named this little town after hisself, since he was the one what built the first building here along the tracks.”

“We were delighted to see a place to get good food.” Georgia wiped her mouth then laid her napkin beside her empty plate.

“Actually, Maud.” Charles smiled at the friendly woman. “I wondered if we could purchase provisions to take on the train. I’m not sure when we’ll stop again.”

Maud led him toward a door that opened into the tiny lobby of the hotel. “Where’d you say you was headed?”

“Arkansas.” He glanced around the room with only a desk to check in at the hotel and a couple of wooden chairs beside the window.

“You probably won’t find much to eat until sometime tomorrow.” Maud pulled from her apron pocket a large metal ring with several keys clinking together. She unlocked another door at the back of the lobby. “We keep extra supplies on hand, and I can sell you some.”

They entered a large storeroom practically crammed to the ceiling with an abundance of fresh produce, canned goods, utensils, sacks of supplies hidden from view, and even tools. Charles scanned the shelves and stacks on the floor. “Would you mind if I get our basket off the train? Maybe we can fill it.”

“Sure. I’ll wait fer you.” Maud waved him away.

When he returned, she helped him gather fresh apples, canned peaches, canned meat, canned vegetables, cheese, and crackers. These would keep if they didn’t eat them all before they stopped for food again.

“I can also wrap up the extra biscuits and ham, if you’d like.” She headed out the door, then turned back. “You need a can opener?”

“Yes.”

“They’s some on that there shelf.” She made sure he found them before leaving.

Charles liked this friendly woman. She quickly met their needs, and the price she charged was reasonable.

•••

Maggie felt much better when she and Georgia climbed onto the train. The bright sunlight and good food, and watching the way Charles treated people, had cheered her. But they had done nothing to make the seat more comfortable. She sat down and tried to find a position where her backside didn’t hurt. The smashed-down stuffing felt nonexistent.

Georgia slipped onto the bench beside Maggie. “Want me to help you with your hair?” she whispered.

Maggie held back a gasp. She’d hoped no one would notice what a mess it was. Of course, Georgia knew how meticulous she usually was about her appearance. “Do you think you can do anything with it?”

“We probably have several minutes before the train loads and pulls out. Get me your brush, and I’ll try to finish before anyone else comes into this car.”

Maggie pulled the brush from her carpetbag and handed it to her. Georgia untied the ribbon and started working on the knots from the tips of her hair and moving toward her scalp as she got more and more of it untangled.

In only a few minutes, Maggie could run her fingers through her curls. She relished the feeling. Before she had felt so unkempt, but now she’d look more civilized. “That’s marvelous. How did you learn to do that?”

Georgia handed her the brush. “Actually, our mother has very curly hair. When we were girls, we often brushed it. That was one of my favorite things to do.”

Maggie had never had anyone who enjoyed taking care of her hair, except Ingrid, and that was only the last couple of years. “Do you think I should try to put my hair up during the daytime?” Maggie pushed the brush back into her luggage.

“Not necessarily. On the train, it would be easier to just pull it back during the daytime and maybe go ahead and braid it at night.” Georgia helped her tie the tresses and make a pretty bow with the ribbon.

“Aaalll aboooard!” The conductor’s familiar call rang out just before Charles came through the door, carrying their picnic basket and a burlap bag.

“Well, ladies, we’re all set for the next few days.” He sat down opposite the women and began to display the bounty he’d acquired. “After we filled the basket, Maud wanted to give me this ‘tow sack’ for the rest of the items.”

The way he mimicked the woman in the hotel made Maggie laugh.

“My goodness, that’s quite a spread.” Georgia clapped her hands.

“Our friendly ‘chief cook and bottle washer,’ as she called herself, sold all this to me. I think she took a liking to us.” A huge smile spread across his face.

Maggie thought he sounded a little too pleased with himself, but then she decided he deserved a little praise for the way he provided for them. “Thank you, Charles. I appreciate all you’ve been doing for us.”

His eyes lit up when she said that. She hadn’t stopped to think that he was making a real sacrifice, leaving his business in her father’s hands and traveling so far with them. Even though her father was very capable of taking care of things, Charles’s thoughts must often return to what he left behind. Maybe she should pay more attention to letting him know how much they needed him.

The train started moving, accompanied by its usual squealing and hissing, and in an odd sort of way, the sounds were comforting. Maggie looked toward the front of the car. No one sat between them and the doorway. Their seats were about a third of the way back. She twisted on the bench and glanced the other direction. Only three people sat in all the area behind them.

“Where is everyone?” she asked Charles.

“A couple of people got off at Hardy. And the family moved to the next passenger car where there are other children. I overheard them saying the children could help amuse each other.” He stopped and gazed at her until she felt like squirming. “Are you afraid of spending time with me without many people around?”

The quirk of his lip revealed he was only teasing. She smiled back. Maggie liked this side of Charles. He was more like the Charles she remembered from when they were younger.

The puffing train became Maggie’s whole world, Charles and Georgia her only friends and family. For several days, they traveled through the states of Oregon, a bit of California, Nevada, and then Utah territory. Most of the stops were similar to Hardy, with a few buildings and only one or two places to get something to eat. Sometimes their meals were bountiful, as they had been in Hardy. Others served stingy or tasteless food, but she was glad to find sustenance. Having food became more important than the way it was prepared.