Page 129 of Conveniently Wed
“Oh, you poor thing. Is this your first time travelin’ by yourself?”
Leah looked up to see a short lady carrying as many bags as would fit in her wrinkled hands. The woman’s hair had likely been blonde at one time, but it was now mostly white with a few golden strands mixed in, and her lined face radiated a kind soul.
Leah sniffed and made an effort to pull herself together, beginning with her poised smile. “It is. Can I help you with those?”
With effort, the woman managed to set some of the bags on the bench, then leaned over to place others underneath the seat. For a second, she swayed like she might topple with the rocking of the train. Leah reached out to grasp her arm, surprised at howbony it was, then moved the bags from the seat and helped the older lady sit.
“Ah, thank you, dear. These trains can knock my old legs over some times. I didn’t used to be so unsteady on my feet, but gettin’ old can be rough.” She patted Leah’s arm.
Leah couldn’t help but smile at the likable woman. “Do you travel often?”
Her clothing didn’t appear lavish, but neither was it ragged. She wore a clean brown taffeta dress with a strip of lace around the high collar and long sleeves.
“My youngest daughter lives in Richmond with her four little ones. I try to visit a couple weeks each year to lighten her load a bit. Her oldest is barely in school and the youngest has started walkin’ now, so she has more than a little on her plate. They’re all smart as chickadees, though, and the two oldest can already read and recite sums.”
She finally stopped to take a breath, then added, “I’m Louise Mathers, by the way, but everyone calls me Gram. And what might your name be?”
Gram was too bubbly to allow sadness to hover, so Leah relaxed against the cracked leather bench. “Leah.”
“Ah, what a lovely name for a lovely girl. It’s a pleasure to have your company. You remind me a bit of my Rebecca. She’s my oldest grandbaby and has your pretty caramel-colored hair. She’s a bit stouter than you, but she can sing like an angel. She’d like you, I’m sure…”
Gram chattered for another hour, then closed her eyes for a nap. When soft snores sounded from the older woman’s open mouth, Leah took the opportunity to look at the papers Emily had given her.
Two scraps held addresses. One for the Barnett family in St. Louis, and the other for Emily’s sister outside of Richmond. Next, she found a copy of the Richmond Enquirer. That wasodd. Emily had always said it wasn’t seemly for a young lady to be interested in newspapers and worldly affairs. The paper was open to one of the pages near the back, where rows of advertisements filled the space.
Her eyes wandered through the listings. In the “Lost.—Found.” section, someone offered a five dollar reward for a missing lady’s gold watch. The “Wanted…Situations …Females” took an entire column, but she couldn’t bring herself to read too deeply. No doubt she would need to study those types of advertisements in detail when she reached St. Louis.
An advertisement in the “Personals” section just above the “Wanted” ads caught Leah’s eye.
An intelligent young rancher of 25 years, 6 feet height, red hair, green eyes, seeks a wife in the Montana Territory. The young lady should be between 18 and 25 years, pleasant, and God fearing. Please send telegram or letter to Helena, MT addressed to Abel Bryant at Bryant Ranch, Butte City.
How curious. She’d heard of men placing advertisements for mail-order brides, but she’d never actually seen such a listing.
The snores beside Leah ended with an unladylike snort, and Gram raised her head from the seat back. She licked her lips and looked around, taking in the landscape still flying by outside the windows.
“Nothin’ like the rockin’ of a train for a good nap.”
3
By the time the train pulled into the station in Washington, D.C., Leah had to try hard to remain amiable. She was tired, her spine and bottom ached from the unforgiving seat, her legs were cramped, and she wanted nothing more than to walk straight to a hotel with a warm bath and soft bed.
But as Emily had instructed, she disembarked the train and made her way into the depot.
“I need passage on your next train to St. Louis, please.”
The thin man behind the spectacles was clean-shaven and balding, and he perused her with an air of condescension. “That would be the next Baltimore and Ohio, scheduled to arrive in about”—he peered at the watch hooked to his vest—“thirty minutes. You’ll need to be ready to leave within ten minutes of its arrival.”
Forty minutes. That would barely allow time for a quick meal, not a bath or a nap. “Is there another train leaving tomorrow?”
His scowl made her almost wish she hadn’t asked. But it would be heaven to crawl under warm covers and sleep. Leah pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The sun was beginning to set, bringing on another cold March evening. Shewished she had her wool coat, but at least it was packed in one of the trunks.
The man’s whiny voice brought Leah back to the present. “The next train traveling to the western states arrives on Tuesday.”
Tuesday? That was five days from now. Leah mentally groaned. “I’ll need a ticket for today’s train, then. Are there sleeping chambers available?”
The man’s chest puffed out as if he’d designed the train himself. “Yes, indeed. This train has one of the famous Pullman cars, with both upper and lower berths.”
Leah sent up a silent prayer of thanks for little blessings.
