The Escape (2 page)

If she had to do this desperate deed, she wanted to at least be close to her sister.

“Why not simply go visit your sister in Burrow Creek and live with her? You don’t need a husband to do that.” The look Mrs. Cobblestone gave her was full of compassion.

Betty’s eyes misted over. She took a slow breath. “I can’t be a burden. I have read between the lines of my sister’s letters, and from what I can surmise, they have only enough to survive.”

Mrs. Cobblestone raised her brow. “Life on the frontier can be difficult, my dear. Folks out there aren’t accustomed to the, well, the conveniences we enjoy here in Boston. You do need to be fully aware.”

Betty nodded. “I am doing what needs to be done.”

“All right, then.” Mrs. Cobblestone shuffled through the stack at her left. Betty watched her somewhat chubby fingers leaf through the sheaf of letters. “There is one gentleman who might be perfect for you. His name is Cole Bronson. He recently lost his wife.”

Betty stiffened. So he was suffering like she was.

“I must inform you that he has a four-year-old girl. His wife died in childbirth with their second child. The babe didn’t make it either. Quite a sad business. Nigh’ on a year ago.”

“So what he really needs is a mother for his daughter.”

Mrs. Cobblestone laid the letter on the desk. “He’s lonely, dear. You can hear it in his letter. This might be the perfect solution for both of you.”

“But as you said, I don’t have time for a lengthy correspondence.”

“We may be able to expedite things. Your sister did, you know.” Mrs. Cobblestone’s face again registered her pleasure at Lou’s arrangement.

“Then please expedite matters. I would like to leave as soon as possible.”

“Allow me to work on it. A telegraph may be just the way to go.” Mrs. Cobblestone stood. “Come back in a few days, and we shall see what can be done.”

Betty rose from the chair, her nerves taut. “Thank you.”

“I still don’t understand why you don’t simply go and live with Louellen for a while. But then that’s neither my here nor there.” Mrs. Cobblestone gave a throaty laugh. “What am I doing? Talking myself right out of a job? You come back in a few days, dear, and I’ll have something for you.”

Betty nodded and left the house. The sun was bright, and she blinked twice to adjust to its glare. Johnson quickly opened the carriage door for her, his face solemn.

“Thank you, Johnson.” Betty glanced at him. She saw the questions in his eyes and prayed he wouldn’t divulge to anyone where she’d gone. He’d been loyal to Edmund, so she could only hope he’d be loyal to her and not feel obligated to report her activities.

Her mind raced during the trip back to the house. Was she doing the right thing? Or should she give in and marry Garrett? Would it be safe to give birth in Burrow Creek? Hadn’t Cole Bronson already lost one wife in childbirth? A nervous tremor seized her, and she swallowed the anxiety creeping up her throat.

She was responsible for
two
lives now. She couldn’t only think of herself.

What if the baby
was
a girl? Would Garrett be any kind of parent for her? Would her daughter grow up being ignored by him? Always wondering what she’d done wrong? And if it was a boy? Would he become like Garrett?

Betty squeezed her eyes closed. The man filled her with revulsion.

She
had
to take her chances. She placed her fingers on the cool surface of the carriage window and gazed out at her beloved Boston. As they passed the stately houses, she wondered again at the steel will of her grandfather. If he’d only give in, she could live with him and raise the baby there.

She blew out her breath. No use moaning about the way things stood. They simply were, and she needed to accept them and move on.

She closed her eyes and attempted to visualize Burrow Creek from what Lou had shared in her letters. She couldn’t do it. The whole prospect was impossible and the settlement foreign to her. Just as foreign as the great continent of Europe.

****

Mrs. Cobblestone performed a miracle, or so Betty dubbed it. Cole Bronson was in agreement and had wired money for the train. Betty was filled with relief that she was to go by train instead of stagecoach. She secretly packed her satchel with all she could stuff into it. Perhaps later, she could send for the rest of her things. But like her sister Lou, taking a trunk at this point would arouse such suspicion that she daren’t risk it.

Betty dreaded saying good-bye to her younger sisters, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them behind without so much as a farewell. She soon found herself in her grandfather’s parlor, sipping tea and doing her best to hide any emotion or clue as to what she was about to do.

“Garrett is becoming impatient,” Grandfather declared with a frown. “It’s time you firmed things up with him.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Betty replied, making sure her voice held the perfect level of meekness.

Grandfather raised his right brow, staring at her. “You seem much more amendable today, Betty. More like yourself. I’m glad to see it.”

Betty took a drink, feeling the hot tea slide down her throat. “Yes, Grandfather.”

Emmalyn and Mae came bounding into the parlor. “The maid said you were here!” exclaimed Mae, rushing to her sister’s side. “How are you today? All right? Would you like to go upstairs and see my new gown?”

Grandfather held up his hand. “Betty has no need to see your new gown, Mae. Leave her be.”

Betty set her teacup on the ornately carved table at her side. She rose. “It’s fine, Grandfather. I would love to see Mae’s new gown.”

Her two sisters rushed ahead of her to the wide, curving staircase. Betty followed, relieved to have an excuse to chat with her sisters alone. As soon as Emmalyn closed their bedroom door, Betty was so overcome with leaving her sisters that she began to weep.

Emmalyn grabbed her hands and pulled her toward the bed. “Betty, what is it? What’s happened?”

Mae grimaced. “She doesn’t need an excuse to cry, Emma. She’s lost her husband, and she’s all alone now.”

Emmalyn gave her sister a dirty look. “What a thing to say!”

“That’s not why I’m crying,” Betty murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”

Mae’s gray eyes grew huge. “What? Where? You mean once the baby’s born? And will Garrett allow it?”

Betty cringed and sank to the bed. “Garrett has nothing to do with it. I’m going to Louellen in Burrow Creek.”

Emmalyn sat beside her. “What? Why?”

“You know Grandfather is insisting I marry Garrett. Garrett is also insisting. They leave me no choice. And since marriage seems to be my only option in life, I’m to be married in Burrow Creek.”

Betty watched her sisters absorb the news. Both their faces went white.

Finally, Mae spoke. “You’re to be a mail order bride like Lou, aren’t you? But you were so angry when she decided to become one.”

“I know,” Betty said. “Now I understand her desperation.”

“But why marry again? Why not just live with her there?” Emmalyn asked.

“I can’t bring Lou two more mouths to feed. And I won’t.” A surge of determination flowed through her. “I wanted to let you know. But like Lou, you must be sworn to secrecy.”

“Pinky swear?” Mae asked.

Emmalyn flipped her hand impatiently. “We don’t need to pinky swear. We can keep our mouths shut.” She rose and went to look out the window.

Betty blinked back her tears and put on a smile. “It worked out well for Lou, and it will work out well for me.” She gazed down at her stomach. “And for Edmund’s and my baby.”

Emmalyn turned to her. “So Mae and I will be here alone.”

Betty gulped back her sadness. “No. You have grandfather. He’ll take care of you like always.”

“Like he’s taking care of you? Like he took care of Lou?” Mae’s voice was sharp.

Betty reached out to her. “That’s not fair. He arranged a good match for me with Edmund.” She stuffed down the familiar pain of feeling she was Edmund’s second choice. She knew that his first choice had been her sister Louellen. But Grandfather had insisted that the eldest sister marry first. And Edmund had agreed.

Yet Betty
had
loved Edmund and loved him well. However, their marriage had hurt Louellen, and Betty regretted that.

Mae stepped toward the door. “I can talk to Grandfather. He’ll let you come back here.”

“No!” Betty stopped her. “I’ve talked to him until there were no words left. Besides, it’s all arranged. I don’t know how many funds Cole has, but if there is enough, you can come visit me and the baby.”

“And if not?”

“Perhaps Grandfather will pay your passage.”

“Like he paid for us to visit Lou?” Sarcasm dripped from Emmalyn’s words.

Betty shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can do.” She rose. “I’m deeply sorry, but this has to be good-bye for now.”

The three sisters fell into each other’s arms and didn’t move for a long, long time.

Two

The next morning, Betty double-checked her satchel and then hid the bulging bag beneath her bed. She was careful to act as normally as possible, going about her daily activities with a face devoid of expression. She only had to make it through the evening and early morning before her train left. As each minute of the day passed without discovery, her relief grew.

Before the dinner hour, she was sitting in the library reading a book of plays when Garrett entered. Her breath quickened, but she kept her eyes on the pages.

“Betty?” He went to sit beside her on the settee.

She looked at him.

“I fear I was a bit harsh during our last communication regarding our marriage.”

She pressed her lips together.

Garrett put his hand on her leg, and she steeled herself not to draw back. “I have always been fond of you—you know that. Edmund would approve of our marriage. He would want his son to have a father.”

Betty gazed steadily at him. “You could be right.” She kept her voice soft and demure and silently blessed Grandfather for her training.

Garrett smiled, his white teeth glinting. “Then we can make plans?”

“Almost. Can you give me a bit more time? Just a bit,” she asked, and her stomach squeezed with disgust as she fluttered her lashes.

Would Garrett see through her false flirtation? Would he know she was ready to bolt?

His face flushed and a look of victory flashed in his eyes. “Why, yes, my darling Betty. But only a few more days at most. There are many arrangements to be made. Mother has taken it upon herself to spread our happy news.”

Betty stiffened. His mother was blabbing even before Betty had agreed? She used to like Edmund’s mother. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

The only thing she
was
sure about was fleeing this man and never looking back.

He leaned close to her face, his breath roving down her neck. “Soon, my love. Soon, we will be together in every way.”

She held each muscle steady and braced herself for the kiss he was sure to plant on her cheek. When she felt his wet mouth on her skin, she could keep still no longer. She sprang to her feet. Garrett grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap. She fumbled and let out a cry.

He gave a bawdy laugh. “Come now, Betty! Don’t be prudish. You were married! You are familiar with such things. And soon, we’ll be married.”

Betty snatched her arm from his grasp and ran from the room, and his laughter followed her all the way up the staircase.

****

Betty asked Johnson to have the carriage ready by nine the next morning. The train would pull out at nine-forty, and it had a reputation for being on time. She had barely slept the night before, her mind circling and circling her plan—worry clenching her heart. When the time came and she crept from her wing of the house, she nearly wept with relief at the empty hallways.

Johnson raised his brow when he saw her overstuffed satchel. When she asked for the railway station, his eyes bugged. But he kept silent and did as directed.

The twenty minutes on board before the train was to depart nearly sent Betty into a frenzy. Her gaze darted back and forth between the platform and the depot office, and she prayed Garrett wouldn’t show up and force her off the train.

When the whistle shrilled and the train chugged away from the station, Betty nearly crumpled with relief. Johnson had kept her secret, and she hoped he would not be punished for it. She put her hand to her mouth and realized how deeply Johnson must have loved Edmund to stay quiet. She closed her eyes and sent up words of gratitude—to God or Edmund or both, she wasn’t sure.

****

The days became a blur. In her haste to flee, she hadn’t considered the length of the trip nor the discomfort of sitting for such long periods of time. Her back ached, and her feet swelled. Other passengers occasionally tried to strike up a conversation with her, but she was so preoccupied with what she had done and how uncomfortable she felt, she could hardly concentrate enough to give a civil reply. Soon, everyone gave up and left her alone.

She attempted to focus on the passing scenery. She watched the land become more and more desolate the further west they went. She had no idea the terrain could be so flat and so devoid of anything. The contrast to Boston made the truth of her situation churn heavily inside her. More than once, she stifled the urge to wail or cry or jump from the train and run back to Boston.

She wondered vaguely if she was losing her mind.

“Missus?” a portly woman across the aisle from her asked. “You all right? You look mighty sick.” She nodded her head toward Betty’s stomach. “I see you’re in the family way. You feeling poorly?”

Betty blinked hard and stared into the kind, watery eyes of the stranger. “I’m fine,” she said. “Thank you.”

“If you’re needin’ anything, you give me a holler.” The woman puckered her fleshy lips. “I’ve given birth four times, and three of them lived to see the light of day.” She gave a soft laugh and then shook her head sadly. “Except my little Penelope, may she rest in peace.”

Betty swallowed and took a slow breath. Truth was, she felt completely ill, her stomach gyrating as if she was trotting on a horse. She leaned against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.

“That’s right, my dear. You rest now. I’m here if you need me.” The woman began humming a tune which was barely audible over the heavy rumble of the train.

****

Betty awoke with a start as the train squealed to a long stop. She stretched and looked out the dusty window.

“Burrow Creek, missus,” the woman who had spoken to her earlier announced. “You slept for hours this time. I almost hated to see you wake up. You look right peaceful in your sleep.”

Betty stood on shaky legs. “But I must look a sight! I’ve had no time to freshen up.” With alarm, she patted her stray curls back into place. She’d planned on tidying up in the tiny washroom before arriving. Now it was too late!

“You look beautiful,” the woman commented. “Much better than earlier. You lost some of that pale look. Your husband meeting you?”

“My husband is—” Betty stopped herself. “Yes, yes, he is.”

My husband?

Betty bent low and peered through the windows at the small gathering of folks on the wooden platform outside. Burrow Creek. She had arrived. Even though she felt hot and sweaty, she clasped her cape snugly around her neck and grasped her satchel. She nodded a farewell to the friendly woman, who remained on the train, and walked to the door.

She bent her head and sent up a quick and desperate prayer for strength. Just then, she felt the tiniest of flutters in her stomach—the baby! Her knees nearly buckled in surprise. The baby had moved! It was the first time she’d felt it. She braced herself against the wall, and tears sprang to her eyes. She gulped in two large breaths of air.

As if in a daze, she stepped from the train. The waiting people around her let out varying cries of happiness as they embraced different travelers. Betty swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat and mustered every ounce of courage she could find to stand tall. Her eyes skimmed over the eager faces until she spotted a tall man at the edge of the crowd. Dark brown hair fell over his ears and across his forehead. His face was set with determination and his strong features were chiseled into a fine, confident look. She saw the outline of his muscular shoulders through a rough cotton shirt that was tucked snugly into gray trousers. His intense eyes were fixed on hers.

Cole Bronson?

Then from behind his leg emerged a little girl holding a tattered doll and sucking on two fingers. Her hair had been freshly pulled back into a ponytail, and her too-short dress appeared newly laundered.

Betty stood on her tiptoes to peer over the diminishing crowd and smiled.

It had to be him.

Cole took the little girl’s hand and strode toward her. The other passengers wandered to their waiting wagons and she stood alone, fully exposed, facing her betrothed.

Cole’s eyes traveled down her body and stopped on her bulging waist. The growing smile on his face fell away, and he stopped moving as if frozen.

Betty’s forehead creased and sudden panic gripped her. What was wrong? Surely, this man was Cole Bronson. Why was he looking so upset? What had happened?

Betty took a step toward him, her face a study of confusion.

“Cole Bronson?” she asked, her soft voice shaking.

“You’re, you’re…” Cole’s tone was shocked, and he pulled the little girl closer to his side.

“I’m Betty Rochester.” Betty gave a tremulous smile and extended her slender hand.

“I know who you are,” he said gruffly. “But you’re…” His gaze fastened onto her stomach. “You’re in the family way.”

“Why, yes, of course I am.” Betty shook her head as if to clear the fog. “That’s why I’m here. I’m widowed and—”

“I wasn’t told,” he went on.

Betty saw the muscles in his jaw tense. Her heart plummeted, and she felt weak enough to fall. “But, but Mrs. Cobblestone telegraphed you. She told me it was all arranged.” Betty sputtered the words, working to remain upright.

She swayed, and Cole reached out to her. She fell against him, her face burning, and her heart sick.

She struggled out of his arms and stepped away from his muscled chest.

“Mrs. Cobblestone told me it was all arranged. Didn’t you pay my passage?” Her voice soft now and fragile.

Cole blew out his breath and shook his head. “No. I mean, yes. But she never told me ’bout the baby.” He picked up his little girl and held her close. “I’m not interested. What I mean to say is, this weren’t part of the deal.”

“Part of the deal?” Betty repeated as if not understanding. “I’m to be a deal?”

Cole Bronson had the decency to blush, his weathered skin growing a deep red. “I’m sorry. Reckon I ain’t saying this correct.” He ran his free hand through his hair and put his daughter back down to the wooden platform. He regarded Betty. “You must be tired. Are ya hungry?”

Betty bit her lips to keep from sobbing out loud. Had she come all this way for nothing? Why hadn’t Mrs. Cobblestone told him she was with child? She’d seemed so forthright. Had she suspected Cole would say no if he knew? Had she realized just how desperate Betty had been?

And what was Betty to do now?

“Miss? You hungry?” he repeated.

“It’s Missus,” Betty replied, a surge of frustration giving her a moment of strength. “And I can get my own food, thank you.”

She had no earthly idea where to get food in such a forsaken place.

Cole leaned forward and took her satchel. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take ya to the café. You’ll feel better after ya eat.”

But Betty knew it wasn’t true. She would never feel better.
Never.

Cole and the little girl were already making their way down the street. She glared at their backs and debated what to do. Follow them like a lost puppy? Or stay where she was? And where did Louellen live?

Louellen will take me in.
And it would only be temporary as Betty refused to be a burden.
Refused.
She looked about herself, searching for some way to inquire about her sister. Most of the people around the train station had wandered off, but she saw a clerk through the window and turned to inquire there.

“Ya coming?” Cole asked from where he’d stopped to check on her. “It ain’t far.”

Betty
was
hungry. She grimaced and then hoisted up her skirts to follow them. She muttered under her breath about the carelessness of her plan the entire way to the café.

Cole surprised her by pulling out the roughly made café chair like a true gentleman. She sat and folded her hands on the table in front of her. The little girl climbed onto the chair beside hers and gaped at her with the largest blue eyes Betty had ever seen. Her little face was solemn and no sound passed her lips.

Betty returned her gaze, strangely drawn by the girl’s sad expression.

Cole sat across from her as a woman emerged from an adjoining room to wait on them. Her dark hair sat in a bun at her neck, and she smoothed her work-worn hands down her long apron. “Well, Cole, what can I get fer ya?” She tweaked the little girl’s ponytail. “And what do you want, little Eve?”

The girl grinned at the woman and stuck her two fingers back in her mouth.

“Rachel, we’ll have whatever you’re servin’,” Cole said with a grin. “And maybe ya got some fresh milk for Eve here?”

“That I do,” Rachel said. She put her hands on her waist and stared at Betty. “New in town?”

Betty nodded. “My sister lives here. Perhaps you know her. Louellen Montgomery? I mean, Lou Walker?”

“You’re Lou’s sister?” Cole asked, his tone incredulous.

“I am,” Betty replied.

“Then why in tarnation did ya use Mrs. Cobblestone?” he asked.

Betty glanced at Rachel and noted her intense interest. She looked ready to grab a seat and join them. Betty raised her chin.

“Thank you, Rachel,” she said, her voice polite. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to bring me a cup of coffee?”