Separate Roads (42 page)

“Ah-hem!” intruded a deep voice.

Brenton and Caitlan broke apart. Brenton found himself staring at Kiernan, who was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, an inscrutable look on his face.

“Hmm, what is this, then?” said Kiernan.

“I . . . I . . .” Brenton momentarily forgot he was a king. He stared at his brother-in-law’s brawny figure, feeling small and weak. This was not helped by the trembling in his knees.

“Brenton Baldwin,” Kiernan said, “if yar of a mind to take such liberties with me sister, I’ll have to be insistin’ that ya marry her.”

Brenton gaped, not knowing what to think or say. Then Kiernan’s lips parted, and a huge grin appeared.

“Well, if you insist,” Brenton replied lightly, suddenly relaxing. “I’ll take my punishment like a man, then.”

“Hold on a minute!” Caitlan gave Brenton a gentle shove. “I’ll not be any man’s punishment.” Her green eyes were dancing with amusement. “And I don’t think I’d be wantin’ a marriage proposal with me brother’s invisible shotgun pointed at me either. A princess, ya know, is deservin’ of a proper proposal.”

Brenton dropped quickly to his knees before her. “Indeed you are!”

“But wait—” she smiled sheepishly. “I’m not meanin’ to be choosy—I really won’t let all this princess business go to me head. But don’t ya think there is someone else who should witness this, that is, if we are going to have an audience anyway?”

Brenton grinned. “Yes, you are right. Jordana would never let us hear the end of it if Kiernan had witnessed this and not her.” He grabbed Caitlan’s hand. “Come along, then.”

They raced into the house. Victoria, making bread in the kitchen, looked up, perplexed.

“Where’s Jordana?” Brenton asked.

“In the parlor, I believe. Dusting.”

“You best come, too.”

Victoria was still looking bemused but followed the little party into the parlor where Jordana was indeed, with rag in hand, dusting. She looked up, and her brow immediately arched in question.

“Stay right there, Jordana,” Brenton ordered. “Don’t talk, just listen.”

She opened her mouth, but when he shook his head she clamped it shut and obeyed.

Brenton took Caitlan’s hand, then dropped to one knee before her.

“Caitlan O’Connor,” he breathed aloud, now all amusement had dimmed, replaced by sheer awe and sincerity, “you have won my heart, and in doing so, I find that with you I am a complete person. You bring light and life to me, and for that and for many other reasons, which I hope to have the rest of our lives together to tell you, I love you! And I ask—no, I beg, for your hand in marriage!”

Tears brimmed Caitlan’s eyes, making them sparkle like green pools. “I would be most honored to accept your wonderful proposal!”

Behind him, Brenton heard a small “Whoop!” and a giggle from Jordana. “Now, you must kiss her,” she said.

“He’s kissed her already,” Kiernan offered.

But Brenton needed no further encouragement in this matter. He was on his feet in an instant with his arms around the woman he loved. Kissing her, he lifted her off her feet and whirled her around.

Then the room burst into joyous laughter and congratulations. Still holding Caitlan close, Brenton knew he had just been given the finest gift in the world. He had found a prize worth more than diamonds or gold. He had found love.

38

A wonderful gift came in time for Brenton’s twenty-first birthday in November. A telegram arrived from his parents. They were departing for California posthaste and, traveling by ship, planned to arrive in San Francisco the seventh of January.

“Well, then,” Jordana said as she and the family enjoyed a small birthday party for Brenton, “we need to start making plans. To begin with, we can now set a date for the wedding.”

Brenton and Caitlan exchanged looks. Jordana thought it too sweet—as if they had been thinking of anything else! But it had presented a difficult conundrum. Brenton wanted his parents present at his wedding, but when he sent them a telegram telling them of his happy news, he hadn’t expected them to make the arduous journey, thousands of miles, to be present. He had suggested that he and Caitlan travel east, though not very enthusiastically. That very likely would leave out Kiernan and Victoria. It also would mean another long and awkward period of time in close quarters with Caitlan, a strain he was not willing to endure.

Thus, they had put off setting a date.

Jordana thought they should just get married. Their parents would not blame him for doing so in their absence. But Brenton had dragged his feet over the matter.

Caitlan smiled after the telegram from New York was read. “I was praying about this very thing! I did not want to be marryin’ without yar parents being here. It didn’t seem right.”

“And it seems God answered your prayer,” said Brenton.

“Aye, it does at that! Can ya imagine that? He heard me for certain, and He answered.” She chuckled. “I hope it never stops feeling this grand!”

“He will be there even if it does,” assured Brenton.

“I know. . . .” And her smile grew. “I truly know!”

Now the wedding plans could begin in earnest. January tenth, the first Saturday after the arrival of their parents, was set as the date. Money was tight for the group. Brenton had his inheritance to look forward to, but nothing could be counted on from that until he spoke to his parents. They had said nothing of it in the telegram. However, his skills as a photographer were quite novel this far west, and he was keeping quite busy taking portraits and doing other assignments. He was making enough to cover living expenses and a few extras.

Kiernan, of course, was still unemployed, though his doctor said that he could resume light duties. He still had to wear his eye patch, but all his other injuries had healed well. Unfortunately, the railroad was having its own financial crisis at the moment, and work had slowed to a standstill.

The only one in the household with any money to spare and with a steady income was Victoria. The laundry business was booming, and because there was no rent to pay, she was building a nice little nest egg. For the time being, Brenton allowed her to pay for wedding expenses, promising to repay her as soon as he received his money. Victoria declared she hardly cared if he ever repaid her, because she was having too much fun to worry over it.

Caitlan had begun to voice her old concerns about taking charity, until Kiernan took her aside and had a very long talk with her. Jordana would never find out just what he had said, but whatever it was, it had worked wonders because Caitlan did not make another protest about money.

Like everyone else, Jordana was caught up in the plans for the upcoming nuptials. Only a couple of shadows seemed to interfere with the happy time. One was Damon Chittenden. Jordana, much to Brenton’s chagrin, had refused to press charges against him. She said he needed help more than imprisonment. The police officer in charge of the case kept trying to convince her otherwise. He warned that because Chittenden seemed normal on the exterior, he was very likely going to be released rather than even committed to an asylum. As Damon appeared unrepentant for what he had done, Jordana rightly feared that if he were released, she would continue to be in danger from him.

She struggled over this dilemma for several days until she came to a solution. She went to Damon and proposed that she would not press charges for the kidnapping if he would have himself committed to an asylum. There was very little difference between prisons and asylums, but at least in the latter he could get help and hope for a shorter confinement. Damon, with not many options open to him, agreed to the proposal.

Brenton and Kiernan were distressed about this, but Jordana reminded them that soon enough his crimes in Omaha would catch up to him—and in fact a wire had already been sent to the sheriff in Omaha to look more closely into the Stanley death and also into the death of a Tom Ludlow, the man Damon had bragged about killing to Jordana. It did not appear as if Damon Chittenden would be bothering anyone again for a good long time.

One other thing troubled Jordana during this time, but she could not quite identify if. Every now and then she would find herself filled with melancholy. She put on an excellent front, and no one noticed, but she knew all was not quite right inside herself. She wished she knew what it was. Or did she? Perhaps it was best ignored because she feared it might have to do with her selfishness, seeing everyone’s lives work out in wonderful ways while her own remained uncertain, unsettled.

One day just before Christmas Brenton came home with a gift for Caitlan, who was learning to accept gifts graciously. She opened this package and found the most beautiful ivory silk fabric and a matching length of incredible Irish lace.

“’Tis what I was admiring at the store the other day,” she exclaimed.

“I thought it might do for a wedding dress,” said Brenton.

She flung her arms around Brenton joyfully. Caitlan had been dragging her feet about a choice for her dress, and with only three weeks until the big day, time was running short. Not wanting to complain about the expense, she had simply avoided the issue.

Victoria and Caitlan immediately put their heads together about making the dress. Jordana offered a few remarks about style, but as sewing was definitely not her forte, she was quiet the rest of the time, finally taking herself out to the laundry room to see to the clothes that had been hung to dry earlier.

The Christmas Eve service at Kiernan and Victoria’s church was very nice, but afterward Jordana still felt . . . well, perhaps restless was the best way to describe her emotions. She threw herself into the holiday festivities with the others and did enjoy herself. She loved these people more than any others in the world, besides her parents. And they loved her. But despite the sense of joy and support she felt in their presence, that small cloud of sadness would not disappear.

New Year’s Day, 1865, came at last, and Jordana let herself truly believe that her parents were actually coming. A week later, Kiernan and Brenton borrowed one of Charlie Crocker’s carriages and drove to San Francisco to pick up the Baldwins. Because it was several hours’ drive, they would spend the night in the city before returning to Sacramento. The women at home were in varying states of excitement. Victoria was nearly beside herself with anticipation, but she was a bit nervous also. She had confided to Jordana about the money she and Kiernan had lost and how Kiernan had written the Baldwins about it, but there had been no response. She had no idea what to expect from her parents.

Caitlan was so nervous she could neither eat nor sleep. Of course she had met Brenton’s parents that one time in Omaha, but they had been there only a short time, and Caitlan had stayed in the background as much as possible. No amount of encouragement from Victoria and Jordana would allay her fears. And really, neither one of them had ever had the experience of meeting their future in-laws, so they could not offer much in the way of personal advice. They tried to tell her how James and Carolina were the gentlest, kindest, most accepting people on earth. Caitlan knew that from the previous meeting, but this time it was different. Now she was presuming to become part of their family by taking their oldest son.