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Authors: Nancy Moser

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BOOK: The Journey of Josephine Cain
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What?

Josephine and Frieda stepped into the foyer just as two men reached the bottom of the stairs with Aunt’s trunk. She swept down behind them. Upon seeing Josephine, she touched her hat and said, “Is it too busy? I packed some simpler ones, but I thought this would do at least until we reached Omaha.”

“Omaha?” Josephine asked.

“That
is
where the new railroad begins, yes?”

“Yes, but . . .”

Nelly rushed down the stairs behind Aunt Bernice, a carpetbag held against her chest. “Isn’t it wonderful Auntie is coming with us?”

Josephine let the new “auntie” designation pass. “You are coming west with us?” she asked.

“If you will have me.”

Frieda clapped her hands beneath her chin, her opinion obvious.

It wasn’t that Josephine didn’t feel the same joy. It was the suddenness of the decision that gave her pause.

Aunt stepped forward to explain, taking Josephine’s hands in hers. “I am too young to sit here and while away my life. I want to start over too.” She let go of Josephine’s hands and peered toward the door. “When I lost George in the first days of the war, and then lost William in the last, I thought my life was over.” She looked back at Josephine and smiled. “But it is not. Your visits out west inspired me to think of the future. I had no idea what that meant until you shared your idea about a store. And . . .” She held out her arm and Nelly found her place beneath it. “And until you brought this little jewel into my life.” She flicked the end of Nelly’s nose. “She needs a new start, and so do I. And so we will all go together and take the West by storm.”

“All?”

They looked up the stairs and saw Mother standing there.

“I am going west too, Lizzie. Why don’t you come with us?”

Josephine inwardly repelled the idea.

Luckily, Mother said, “Don’t be ridiculous. My home is here.”

Aunt put her hand on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. “What is a home, Lizzie? It is not a building and a few pieces of furniture. Home is being with family—which includes Frieda and Nelly. Our family is going west, and your husband is already there. Come with us and be part of it.”

Mother’s right hand gripped the banister. Her mouth tightened. “I cannot.”

“Cannot or will not?”

Although the last thing Josephine wanted was to have her mother come along, she felt it was her duty to make the argument for the trip. “I hate the idea of your being alone in this house.”

Mother’s eyes bore into Josephine’s. “I have always been alone in this house.”

Josephine took a step back as if she had been slapped. Was that really how she felt?

Aunt was direct. “Listen to me, Lizzie. I have lived in this house since William was killed. I have spent every day by your side, acquiescing to your preferences. I found comfort in your companionship, but to
hear that you felt nothing in my presence? You are either heartless or a liar. Which is it?”

Mother’s breathing turned heavy, but then her gaze fell upon Nelly. She pointed at her. “Those clothes belong here.”

It took Josephine a moment to switch her focus. Mother was worried about Nelly’s clothes? The absurdity of it spurred her out of her pain. “Those clothes were my clothes. As such I can do what I want with them, and I want to give them to Nelly.”

“As you wish.”

With those three words, Mother turned and ascended the stairs. A few moments later they heard her bedroom door close.

They looked up after her. That was it?

“I’ll give the clothes back,” Nelly said.

Her offer broke through the moment. “You most certainly will not,” Aunt said. “Now then. We have a train to catch.”

Josephine couldn’t pull her gaze away from upstairs. She hated to leave like this. She loved her mother. She didn’t always agree with her, but she loved her.

What was uncertain was whether her mother loved her.

Aunt tied a ribbon beneath Nelly’s chin and adjusted her bonnet. “Come now, ladies. Let us be off.”

In a flurry they moved to leave. Josephine was the last out.

“Miss Cain?”

She turned to see Dowd, ready to close the door behind her. “Don’t worry about your mother, miss. We’ll see to it she’s all right.”

On impulse, she embraced him. “Thank you.”

“Godspeed, Miss Josephine.”

As the carriage pulled away, Josephine took one last look at the house where she had been raised. A parade of memories filed past: of her and Thomas playing checkers and singing around the piano; of spending time with Papa in his study, not caring what was said, but taking full joy in his company; of Frieda teaching her how to dance before her first cotillion—which she never attended because the war began. Even Dowd had a place in her memories, as she always used to
tug on the tail of his coat and giggle, receiving a wink in return.

Where was Mother amid the memories?

Ah. There she was. Peering back at Josephine from the shadows, a spectator rather than a participant. Perhaps Mother was right. While the rest of the family had lived in the house
with
her, Mother had chosen to live here separate and alone.

Then, with a glance, Josephine saw her mother at an upstairs window, watching them leave. But when Josephine waved good-bye, the lace curtains fell back into place.

So be it.

As the train sped north, Josephine leaned her head against the window-pane, deep in thought.

And prayer.
Please keep us safe. Keep Mother safe. I worry about her alone in that house. Please make this all work out. I feel responsible for—

Aunt put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you questioning your decision?”

Josephine was surprised when she shook her head no without a second thought. “I made the right decision to leave. But it’s such a huge step.”

Aunt looked across the aisle at Frieda and Nelly playing rock, paper, scissors. “For all of us.”

“I know, and that’s—”

“That’s our choice. Our happiness is not your responsibility.”

“Indeed it’s not,” Frieda said, joining in the conversation. “And mark my words, I intend to be deliriously happy.”

“Me too,” Nelly said.

“Me three,” Aunt said.

Josephine’s first thought, that it wouldn’t be that easy, was overridden by a smile. “We are the four musketeers.” She thought of d’Artagnan’s cry. “All for one, one for all!”

“What are musketeers?” Nelly asked.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Aunt said. “They are characters in a book that is all about adventures. I will have to read it to you.”

“I can read it by myself.”

“Of course you can.”

Their laughter was a balm.

Hudson stood in front of the Cain residence. On the train he’d had plenty of time to think about what to say to Josie. Winning her over was not the issue, as he truly believed she cared for him. And now, there was the bonus that his obligation to Sarah Ann was severed. He was free. And so was Josie. Mrs. Cain was the problem. For in the short time he’d been gone, Hudson’s financial and social prospects had not miraculously been transformed. Yet didn’t she want her daughter to be happy? He would focus on that. For he knew he could make Josie happy. Maybe not rich, but happy.

He removed his hat and ran a hand over his head. His heart beat in his throat and he whispered a prayer. “Please, God. You sent me here. Make it work out.”

That said, he strode up to the door and knocked. The butler answered.

“Hello, Dowd. Is Miss Josephine at home?”

Dowd looked confused. “No, Mr. Maguire, she’s not. She’s on a train heading west.”

“West?”

“Yes, sir.” Dowd looked toward the upstairs hall as if checking for ears. “She and the little girl, and Mrs. Schultz, and even Mrs. Miller.”

“Aunt Bernice went too?”

For the first time, Dowd smiled. “Miss Josephine ignited a mighty spark among them.”

“Dowd! Who’s here?” called Mrs. Cain.

The butler lowered his head and stepped back, fully opening the door. “Mr. Maguire, ma’am.”

Hudson turned his hat in his hands. “Hello, Mrs. Cain.”

She descended the stairs. “I thought you left.”

“I came back.”

“Why?”

“I came to see your daughter.”

“You are too late. She went west. They all went west.”

“So I heard.”

“She is starting a store.”

“A store?” The idea surprised him. “A real store?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“I suppose not, but—”

“Do not ever doubt she can accomplish it, Mr. Maguire. What my daughter sets her mind to, she makes happen. If that’s all . . .” She moved as though to return upstairs.

“When did they leave?”

She turned back to him. “On the two-o’clock.”

It only took him a moment to realize, “We must have passed each other on the tracks.”

Mrs. Cain let out a
humph
.

“Is something funny?”

“So goes the story of my life.” But then she pointed toward the depot. “The next train leaves within the hour.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cain.”

Her brow drooped. “Take care of my girl, Mr. Maguire. Tell her . . . tell her I love her.”

“I’ll do that, ma’am. I promise.”

She nodded, and the door closed between them.

Hudson ran toward the station.

P
ART
T
HREE

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams.
Live the life you’ve imagined
.

—H
ENRY
D
AVID
T
HOREAU

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Josephine, look!”

They all turned toward the window. A large herd of antelope raced the train, keeping up with it. The engineer let go a shriek on the whistle, making the animals run faster. The train picked up speed.

“They are keeping up with us,” Josephine said.

“Astounding,” Frieda said.

“And breathtaking,” Aunt added. “I would never see anything like this back in the city.”

Josephine was relieved and surprised that Aunt Bernice had taken such a liking to everything “west.” It was as if the West was an old friend she hadn’t met until now.

After six or seven miles, the antelope finally gave up and veered away from the track. Nelly sat with her nose to the window and waved to them as the train surged forward. “They didn’t lose,” she said. “They just gave up.”

“Giving up
is
losing,” Aunt said.

Josephine did a double take. “I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“It’s the only way to think of it. ‘Let us run with patience the race that is set before us.’” She gave Josephine a pointed look. “We are in this race together, niece.” She nodded at Frieda. “‘A threefold cord is not quickly broken.’”

“Hey,” Nelly said, leaving the window behind. “Three? I make four.”

Aunt nodded once. “All the better.”

The train pulled into the Cheyenne depot. It seemed a thousand years had passed since Josephine had left with Nelly and Frieda. And Hudson.

Where was he now?

She suspected he was at the end of the line, back at work. After being so rudely sent away by her mother, was he trying to forget her? Or did he still have feelings for her?

BOOK: The Journey of Josephine Cain
9.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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