“Someone has been in this trunk.”
Eli touched her shoulder. “Officials search the trunks to be certain we brought nothing of danger. I was assured this is customary.” Franz had explained the procedure to Eli. He had also given Eli a slip of paper with the symbols for both Russian rubles and American dollars.
“There are sharpers who will prey on your ignorance of American ways,
Herr
Bornholdt,” Franz had said, “so think before you hand over any money. You will trade your money at the Bureau of Exchange in Castle Garden. Even after you have exchanged your money, carry this with you. It will help you understand the similar values of rubles to dollars so you are not cheated.”
Eli had already determined how much American money he should receive in place of his rubles, but he would do as Franz advised and keep the paper until he memorized the value of the dollars and coins. He didn’t care to be seen as a fool. His first practice would be paying someone to transport their trunks to the train station.
“You stay here with the trunks,” he said to Henrik and Joseph. “See over there?” He pointed to a window with a large sign above it. The sign bore a line of print and several symbols, including an intertwined “P” and “Y” for the Russian ruble. “Your mother and I must exchange our rubles, and then we will make our way to the train station to determine schedules.”
“We will leave for Kansas right away?” Joseph was again sagging with tiredness.
Eli gestured to the nearest trunk and waited until Joseph sat before replying. “
Jo,
we should go as quickly as possible rather than spending money on hotels in the city. The sooner we go, the sooner we can purchase our land and begin building our new home.” Besides, the less time spent lingering in the city, the less likely Henrik would find an opportunity to slip away.
From the folds of her apron, Lillian tugged loose a money pouch and handed it to Eli. Reinhardt’s rubles, he realized. Lillian sat beside Joseph and slipped her arm around his shoulders. “I will wait here with the boys while you exchange our money.”
The look of trust she turned on Eli nearly melted him.
Our
money,
she had said. Not his and hers, but theirs. Eli battled an urge to lean forward and place a kiss on her cheek. Instead, he spun on his heel and charged toward the money exchange station.
W
hy did you give him Father’s money?”
Henrik’s accusatory words and sharp glare pierced Lillian’s heart. She took his hand. He didn’t curl his fingers around hers, but neither did he pull away. “My son, you seem to have forgotten your lifelong relationship with your
Onkel
Eli. You know your father trusted him. They planned this journey to America together. Just because your father is now gone—” An ache rose within her, making her throat grow tight. She swallowed and continued. “Just because your father is gone does not change who Eli was, and is, to us. He will take good care of us.”
Henrik frowned toward the Exchange Bureau and muttered something unintelligible.
She leaned forward, tipping her head. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. It does not matter.” Turning, he plunked onto a trunk and sat with his arms folded and his head down. Joseph leaned against Lillian’s shoulder, and she absently patted his knee. She scanned the area, seeking Jakob’s active body. When she realized what she was doing, she couldn’t hold back a soft moan. Although many days had passed, she still instinctively looked for her little Jakob.
She tilted her head and delivered a kiss on Joseph’s warm, dark hair. The boy stirred, offering a shy smile. It pained her that it had taken the loss of Jakob, and Joseph’s illness, to awaken a closer bond with her middle son. Yet gratitude brimmed that they could sit together, mother and son, with his head nestled on her shoulder. If only the cost had not been so high. . . .
Tears stung her nose, so she sought Eli to distract herself from sad thoughts. She found him at a window, engaged in conversation with a man dressed in a blue, official-looking suit. They talked for a long time, with Eli repeatedly raising and lowering his broad shoulders as if confused by some of the things the man said. Finally, Eli approached, weaving between other arrivals. To Lillian’s relief, a wide smile lit his face.
He crossed directly to Lillian. “All of our money is now in American dollars, and I have good news. Next to the Exchange Bureau, a man gave me information about train schedules. Already I have purchased our tickets.”
He consulted a wrinkled piece of paper. “The Pennsylvania Railroad leaves in the morning from the New York Station and will carry us to Chicago, Illinois. Then we take the Chicago line to St. Louis, Missouri. From there the Union Pacific Railroad will take us to Topeka, Kansas.”
At the word
Kansas
, Lillian’s heart leapt. Oh, if only Reinhardt and Jakob could be here! Pushing aside the dismal thought, she focused instead on the confident, knowledgeable tone Eli used. His sureness gave her a sense of security. “Topeka, Kansas,” she repeated. “Is that where we will live, then?”
Eli raised one brow and scratched his head. “
Nä
, but the ticketmaster told me there will be railroad men—land speculators, he called them—in Topeka who will tell us about land for sale. We will decide, after we reach Topeka, where we will build our new home.”
Lillian rose and clapped her palms together. “
Nä-jo
, then let us find a hotel for the night and be well rested for travel by morning.”
“That is the other good news.” Eli rocked on his heels, looking pleased with himself. “We need not spend money on a hotel. We can stay right here in Castle Garden tonight.”
Lillian glanced around the cavernous room teeming with jabbering people. Where would they lay their heads to rest? The sight of Joseph’s pale face brought a rush of protectiveness. Her son needed quiet and a comfortable bed if his health was to be fully restored. “We will stay
here
?”
“It will save us much money, and the ticketmaster says we will be safe.” Eli stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “One more night amongst many others, and then we will have our privacy. I have made arrangements for us to occupy two private berths on the train.”
Eli’s hand seemed to grow heavier on her shoulder as worries filled Lillian’s head. She bore his name. Did he now expect her to share a berth with him as if she belonged to him in every sense? She stared into Eli’s hopeful face, concern making her heart pound. The feelings of security that had wrapped her in peace only moments ago now fled, leaving her nervous and uncertain.
He tipped his head, puzzlement creasing his brow. “Lillian? Is something wrong?”
How could she voice her fears with Henrik and Joseph listening to every word? She shook her head, forcing a smile for the sake of her sons. “
Nä, nä
, all is fine. A . . . a private berth will be welcome after sleeping in the ship’s hallway.” Stepping away from his touch, she caught Joseph’s sleeve and tugged him to his feet. Then she stretched her free hand to Henrik. “Come, boys. Let us find a washroom and give ourselves a thorough scrubbing before I take out some dried meat and crackers from my trunk for our lunch.”
Flanked by Henrik and Joseph, she scuttled away with Eli’s confused face etched in her memory.
Henrik dropped onto the padded seat of the railroad car next to Joseph and peered out the window at the bustling New York train station. So many tracks, running in every possible direction. Where did all those tracks lead? Surely not all of them went to Kansas.
According to Father, Kansas was a favorable place because the explorers had indicated it resembled the
steppes
of Russia. A flat, open plain. Fields of tall, wild grass. Just like the area that surrounded Gnadenfeld.
Were there universities in Kansas? Probably not. The state was too new. Frustration stirred in Henrik’s belly, firing his temper. He wanted to live in a city, not on the plains!
He wished he’d been allowed to explore the huge city of New York. Just a walk down one of those cobblestone streets to look into the windows of some of the buildings would have satisfied his craving for something new and exciting. But Eli had hustled them to the train station first thing in the morning, even though their train wasn’t scheduled to leave until shortly after noon. Henrik had asked, very politely, for permission to look around a bit, but Eli had firmly refused even before Ma shook her head. Henrik might have ignored his uncle’s words—the man had no right to tell him what to do—but he wouldn’t distress his mother.
A piercing whistle blew, followed by a shuddering
chug-chug
, signaling their departure. Henrik pressed his fingertips and nose to the window, examining every detail of the busy station one last time. The train began to move in short jolts that forced Henrik to curl his fingers around the edge of the seat. As the locomotive gained speed, the ride became smoother, although the rocking motion encouraged Henrik to keep a grip on the seat lest he vibrate off the cushion and fall on the floor.
Outside the window, the station disappeared by sections. The view changed to buildings, and finally to countryside. Not until they left the city completely behind did he turn away from the window and let out a sigh. On to Kansas, just as his father and Eli had intended.
He shot a quick look at Eli, who slumped on the bench across the small berth. His uncle’s eyes were closed, his bearded chin against his chest. No wonder his uncle was tired. Every time strange noises had awakened Henrik during the night, he had found Eli alert and watchful. Henrik had tried to stay awake, too, to guard his mother and brother, but weariness had pulled him back to sleep.
Joseph tapped Henrik’s arm. “Do you think
Onkel
Eli will stay with us in our berth the whole way?” His voice was whisper-soft, making it difficult for Henrik to hear him over the clatter of the train’s wheels against the track.
Henrik nodded.
Joseph made a face. “If he stayed with Ma, we could each have our own seat.”
Without replying, Henrik turned back to the window. He should be pleased that Eli hadn’t forced his way into Ma’s berth. As her legal husband, he had the right. But he had settled Ma in her berth across the narrow hallway and then told the boys, “
Nä-jo
, let us go to our berth now.” Henrik had seen Ma’s tense shoulders relax at his proclamation, and he should have been grateful. Yet, somehow, his uncle’s consideration rankled. Why must Eli always be so perfect? And why was he being so thoughtful? What did he want in return? Was it the packet of money that he had kept after exchanging their rubles for dollars? Or was it something else— something Henrik felt uncomfortable even contemplating.
In the past, Henrik had viewed Eli’s involvement in their lives as a way of repaying Father’s family for giving him a home. But now Father was gone; Eli could go his own way. Yet he remained, claiming he desired only to see to Ma’s needs. But his interference kept Henrik from assuming leadership for his remaining family. If Henrik had been in charge, he would have insisted they remain in New York, where he could have found a job in one of the many factories. He could have learned to speak English and then attended a university. He could have visited the docks each day, watching for the arrival of more of Gnadenfeld’s residents. In time, he might have reunited with Susie.
Resentment made Henrik’s stomach churn.
Joseph tapped him again. His brother’s thin face took on a thoughtful expression. “Do you think, when we get to Kansas, Ma and
Onkel
Eli will have children together?”
“What?” Henrik barked the word. The mere thought of Ma having babies with
Onkel
Eli made him break out in a sweat.
“Children,” Joseph said again. “I thought maybe—”
“Do not speak of such things,” Henrik hissed. “It is indecent!”
Joseph’s cheeks splotched red, and he tucked his chin low.
Henrik knew he should apologize for his harsh reaction. Joseph missed his little brother. So did Henrik. Cheerful little Jakob had lit up each room he’d entered. Life seemed dull and joyless without the little boy’s giggle and ornery grin. But while a baby might help fill the void Jakob’s passing created, another child could never replace Jakob. There was no point in wishing for something that couldn’t be.