What the Heart Wants (12 page)

I should have been thrilled to see how close we were to our destination, but all I could feel was sadness and a sense of loss. Soon I would reach Sacramento City, but my father would not be there to see it with me. My heart ached for him and for the child I had once been. I was a woman now in the truest sense of the word, and yet I had no one who loved me.

As we stood poised above that verdant valley, Reverend Sims led us in a prayer of thanks. We had spent the past five months together, faced hardships together, and celebrated life and death together. Soon we would go our separate ways, some of us remaining in Sacramento while others went on to San Francisco and other cities and towns in California. All but one of us had survived the long journey, and we had welcomed one new life into the world. And, though I was thankful to be here in this wondrous land and to be alive, I still couldn’t forget the uncertainty of my future. What would I do if Mr. Parker didn’t want to marry me?

The first day I set foot in Sacramento was a day I shall never forget. It was late September, and it was quite warm when compared to the mountains we had just traversed. The orange-and-red leaves of the deciduous trees, which we’d seen from afar, looked like lit torches in the bright afternoon sunlight. Elizabeth and Cassie had dropped me off at the hotel where the Hudsons and their niece, Clara Potter, were staying until the purchase of the boarding house was complete. My parting with the Youngs had been emotional, and we had promised to get together often. After all, they wouldn’t be that far away. Elizabeth was going to open a clinic for women here in town, just as soon as she found a location. She wanted a place where she and Cassie could live upstairs with a space below it where she could set up her practice. The city had grown by leaps and bounds in the past few years due to the influx of gold prospectors, and it was still growing now that California had been made a state and Sacramento the capital. There were always new buildings going up, and Elizabeth felt certain she would have no problem finding a place that would fit their needs.

The Hudsons had offered to let me stay in Clara’s hotel room, or at the boarding house, until I married their nephew, Thomas. Apparently they still believed he and I would be a good match. Even Clara offered words of encouragement. I, meanwhile, dreaded even setting foot in the same room with the man. But at least I wouldn’t have long to wait since we were all having dinner together that night in the hotel dining room.

I had been given some dresses and underthings by Sarah and Elizabeth, who were both about my size though shorter, and as we got dressed, Clara went on and on about how excited she was to finally be in California. I said very little, as all I could think about was the meeting that was fast approaching. What would I do if Mr. Parker didn’t like me? What would I do if he did! I didn’t really want to marry a man I didn’t love, and though I had tried not to think about John, his face kept appearing in my mind.

I hadn’t seen him since that last day in the mountains when we knew we had made it, and Captain Baker called us together so that we could thank the man who had seen us safely to California. I could see the reluctance on John’s face as the captain asked him to come forward, and I knew what he was feeling. Our scout was a private person and didn’t want to be put on display. Everyone shouted, “Hip, hip, hooray!” Several people, the parents of the children he had rescued from the bear, actually went up and shook his hand. He didn’t say anything, simply nodded his head. He had done his job, and now he was free to leave. Even before the meeting broke up, I saw him riding away. He didn’t tell me good-bye or even look in my direction, and my heart broke a little more as I watched him head back the way we had come. It occurred to me then that I still didn’t know where he made his home. Was he going there now? Would he stay in California until spring, or was he headed back across the mountains? I came to the conclusion that day that I would have to go to my grave with more questions than answers about the man I loved.

As soon as Clara and I were ready, we went down to the lobby. William Hudson and his wife, Esther, were already there. I wondered where their nephew was, but the part of me that was afraid to meet him told me not to ask. Clara had no such worries, and once we were seated, she asked after him.

“Where’s Cousin Thomas? I thought he was joining us.”

Mrs. Hudson glanced at me and then at her husband. I thought she looked a bit pale.

“He won’t be coming. He didn’t think it would be right under the circumstance.” I looked at him questioningly but didn’t say anything. He continued, “I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you, Samantha,” he began sympathetically. “We just found out this morning. You see…Thomas was married two months ago.”

I heard Clara gasp, and Esther shook her head. A part of me wanted to shout for joy, but another part thought I should express my disappointment. After all, I had no other plans for my future. I did neither.

“I’m so sorry, m’dear,” the colonel said.

“We feel responsible,” Esther added. “We want you to know that you will always have a place in our home,” she continued, wringing her hands. She was obviously upset.

I finally found my voice. “I accept for now. But, as soon as I can, I will find employment and a place of my own. I don’t want to intrude or be a burden.”

“Employment? But what will you do?” Esther asked. It was a question I had pondered for weeks, and I still had no answer.

“She could work at the boarding house!” Clara all but shouted.

“I suppose she could…if she wants to, that is.” William’s statement was more of a question, and I didn’t need to consider it for long. It was an answer to my prayers.

“Yes, I accept.”

* * * *

Within the week, we moved into the big house and then set about making it ready for customers. The house, which at one time had belonged to the town’s mayor, had seven bedrooms, five of which would be rented out. My new employers took the big room at the back of the house on the top floor while Clara and I shared an equally spacious room down the hall at the front of the house. There was a bathing room and what Mrs. Hudson called a toilet across from our room and similar facilities on the second floor. There was one bedroom to let on the uppermost floor and four more bedrooms on the second floor while the kitchen, dining room, parlor, and library took up the ground floor. Clara and I had never been inside a house this large, nor one with an indoor bathing room and privy. Mrs. Hudson showed us how to use the newfangled tubs and toilets and then left us giggling as we scrubbed the porcelain containers until we could see our faces in them.

We scrubbed the floors, dusted the furniture that had been left by the previous owner, and turned the house into a place fit for even the pickiest renter. By the second week, four of the rooms were rented. Clara and I cleaned and did the laundry. The work kept me busy, leaving me little time during the day to think about anything else. But at night, while I lay alone in my bed, I thought about nothing else but John. Even though I knew he’d lived on his own for most of his life, I worried about him. It was winter, and the mountain passes were deep in snow by now. I pictured him lying in the snow, injured or starving to death, while wolves circled his still body.
No,
I cried inside as I tried to reason with myself. I told myself that I should forget about him and find someone else. But I knew I’d never find another man I could love the way that I loved John, and many nights I cried myself to sleep.

Some days Clara would give me a look that said she had heard my sobs during the night and thought I was crazy to carry on over a man who was so inappropriate for me. That first month she tried to get me to talk about my feelings, but I refused, telling her that I was fine, just missing Papa and wishing he were here. That was true, of course, but the truth was that I missed John even more. When Papa died, I had put all my hopes for the future on John’s shoulders. Now that he was gone, I had no hope left.

It was during the fifth week of my new life in Sacramento when I got a surprise that was bittersweet.

“Samantha, what on earth!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed when she found me kneeling with my head in the toilet. She stood behind me while I retched, emptying my stomach into the shiny pot that I had just finished scrubbing. When I felt like my stomach had been turned inside out, I stood and pulled the flush chain. Esther was there with a dampened washcloth, and I gladly let her wipe my face with it. It had been a very long time since anyone had mothered me, and the thought of how alone I was and how much I missed both my father and John caused me to burst into tears.

“There, there, dear. It isn’t that bad. Come. You’ll feel better soon. Why don’t you lie down for a while before supper?” she suggested kindly as she took my elbow and guided me down the hall to my room. I still had the tub to see to, but I didn’t argue with her. For some reason the smell of the lye soap I’d been using to clean the toilet and the tub had made me feel sick, and now all I wanted to do was get as far away from the smell as possible.

“Actually I think I’d like some fresh air,” I said as I headed for the stairs. Esther followed me, clucking all the way like an old mother hen about how little I ate and how pale I looked. And, though I appreciated her concern, I wanted solitude and a chance to breathe in some clean outdoor air. “I’ll be fine, Mrs. Hudson. Truly I will. That soap is so strong. I just need a breath of fresh air,” I assured her as I ignored her suggestions that I eat something.

I went through the kitchen and out onto the back porch where I stood staring at the snow-covered roof of the carriage house. There were several outbuildings on the property, including a washhouse, a stable, and the carriage house. I was thankful that Mrs. Hudson had remained inside to make tea, as I preferred to be alone in my misery. However, my solitude didn’t last more than a minute as Clara joined me at the porch rail. I could feel her big brown eyes studying my face.

I turned my head to look at her. “What?”

“I was just wondering something,” she said quietly. I clutched my shawl close to my throat to protect me from the chilly wind. It had snowed the day before, but the white blanket was looking a bit scruffy as the warmth of the winter sun peeked between the remaining clouds. Snow never lasted long in Sacramento.

“If you’re going to tell me to forget him, I don’t want to hear it. Besides, this isn’t about Mr. O’Hara,” I claimed, my hackles up. I felt irritated; I was in no mood for one of her sermons about how John had taken advantage of me. I thought she’d given that topic a rest, or at least I’d hoped she had.

“Isn’t it? I heard you losing your breakfast up there,” she said, lifting her chin toward the upstairs windows. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here,” she complained, and I let her pull me into the house. We sat at the small kitchen table with its blue-and-white oilcloth tablecloth, the lovely warmth from the cook stove seeping into our bones as we watched Mrs. Hudson put thick slices of bread into the wire toaster on top of the stove. With the exception of the teapot, the tea service was already arranged on the table in front of us. I noticed it was Esther’s favorite set of china, the one with the gold trim and dark pink roses. She’d told us several times that it had been a wedding gift when she and the colonel were married. Every time I drank from one of the delicate cups, I feared it would break in my hand. They were the sort of thing one should save for special occasions, and my being sick certainly didn’t qualify.

“That lye soap is very strong. I’m sure breathing it in could make anyone sick,” I said, trying to excuse my illness. I truly believed what I was saying. I was never sick, so why else would I be feeling this way?

Mrs. Hudson went into the pantry to fetch the tea leaves, and Clara leaned over the table toward me, her hand cupping her mouth. “The soap
is
strong, but I think there’s more to it than that. You didn’t have your woman’s time last month,” she whispered.

I blinked at her, not sure what she was trying to say. Nevertheless I felt compelled to deny whatever accusation she was making. “I did so.”

“No, you didn’t. If you’ll recall, when I had mine, we had to cut up a sheet.”

“So?”

“So, I did the laundry right alongside you for the entire month, and I never saw even one rag with your blood on it. You were alone with that man for days, and you’re obviously crazy about him. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

For a few seconds the world seemed to spin around me. When it steadied, I realized she was right. I hadn’t had my monthly flow since my ordeal among the Indians. How could I have been so stupid to forget something that important? I felt like such a complete fool that I put my face in my hands and wept. Mrs. Hudson came out of the pantry carrying the teapot. When she saw that I was crying, she put it down and rushed to my side.

“Dear me, what is it now?” she asked, standing over me with an exasperated look on her otherwise-unlined face. I swallowed my tears and wiped my face with the handkerchief she handed me. It had a lacey edge, and her initials were embroidered on it. I used it sparingly, hating to soil it.

“Just feeling a bit sorry for myself, I guess,” I told her.

She turned back to the stove, removing the toasted bread and putting it on a flowered plate as I watched. I guessed she was in her late forties. Her light brown hair was untouched by gray, and her blue eyes were still clear. She was a very pretty woman who’d never been able to have children of her own, so Clara had told me, and I suspected she wasn’t enjoying her new role as a parent figure just now. I didn’t blame her one bit. If I were her, I would toss me out on my backside before the sun set. Clara could be disconcerting at times, but at least she had brains enough to keep her bloomers on. I, on the other hand, had failed miserably to protect my virginity.

Esther set the plate on the table and went back to the stove to pour boiling water into the teapot. Clara leaned forward again, her eyes shooting sparks at me.

“You have to tell her,” Clara insisted, and though I was reluctant to do so, I nodded in agreement. But apparently she couldn’t wait for me to get up the nerve to admit what a fool I’d been. The instant Mrs. Hudson returned carrying the teapot she announced, “She’s pregnant.”