1841 Boston Ma.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the train pulled to a stop. The passengers in car B were mostly still sleeping or just waking up. A gentleman dressed smartly in a brown business suit had his head heavily on the window, his breathing still even. A large woman sat directly across from him, her head leaned back so far it looked painful. A child was stretched across her lap, his eyes barely open.
One woman however, a Miss. Caroline Elliot - formally of London, was wide awake. She sat at the edge of her seat with her back rim rod straight. Her usually vibrant eyes had dulled and appeared sunken in her pale face. She looked directly in front of her, not really seeing anything.
“Last stop,” a man called from down the aisle, “everyone has to get off here.” Caroline clutched her small bag even tighter to her chest. The skin on her knuckles stretched to the breaking point. Her bottom lip threatened to quiver but she forced herself to stay calm. “Last stop,” the man said more gently once he was close to her seat.
“Oh!” The plump woman hurried into action. She grabbed her bag and the child’s hand. With a sharp wrap to the man’s knee she pushed her way out of the car. “Come on, hurry up!” she called in a motherly fashion. Caroline didn’t move her head to watch the man follow behind.
“Ma’am, everyone ahs to get off here,” the man was uncomfortable. “If this isn’t your final stop, you’ll have to check the train schedule for the next one.” He could see that the young woman was terrified. She was probably traveling on her own for the first time. He hated to leave her so helpless.
“I need to get to Boston,” she said quietly, without looking at him. “In Massachutes.”
She missed the smile that lit his eyes. “You are in luck Miss. This is Boston.”
This declaration made her swing her eyes to his face, but only for a moment. “Okay,” she said after a minute. She stood up stiffly and looked uncertainly down the aisle.
“Maybe there will be someone waiting for you at the platform,” the man offered kindly. His own daughter was near the same age as this young woman, and he would never think of putting her on a train all alone.
Caroline nodded and without a word brushed past the kind man. She kept her breathing even and her panic at bay by intense concentration. It wasn’t being alone that scared her, in fact Caroline considered herself an extremely independent woman. But things in this country were so confusing.
After almost three months on a ship, Caroline had been all to eager to been the train that would take her to Boston and to her uncle. She laughed at her own folly when she got off at the first stop and it wasn’t Boston. She had to sit on the platform for three hours waiting for the next train. The second time aggravation had set in. by the fourth time however, she was almost overcome with emotion. Her fatigue made her uncharacteristically unsensible.
She had sat unmoving, refusing to get off the train for two days. Even when the kind man had assured her that she had time to go get something to eat she had refused, choosing instead to eat what little food she had with her.
Now, with shaking legs, Caroline stepped onto the platform. She scanned the crowd nervously. How would she even be able to recognize her uncle? Would he look like her father? They were brothers after all.
Evan Calloway leaned lazily against his wagon, watching the passengers from the train. It appeared that the elusive Miss. Elliot was still not there. He shook his ehad in disapointment. His wife Haley had her ehart set on Miss. Elliot. He was not looking forward to disappointing her again.
Evan had learned from his mother that women were prone to strong emotion when they were with child, but it seemed like Haley was beyond the norm. if he suggest they look for someone else… he winced when he thought of the last time he had suggested it. Evan loved his wife but he had never fancied a woman who liked to cry.
He sighed and pushed himself upright. No point in wasting the day looking at the train, the passangers had stopped coming off the train a while ago. His foot was already on the wagon, prepared to take him to his seat, when he turned back to take one last look. That’s when he saw her.
She was a small woman, she’d probably barely reach his shoulders. Her rusty colored hair was pulled back and covered with a hat but it wisped wildly by her face. She was pale and looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. Despite her haggard appearance, Evan couldn’t help but notice her loveliness. He had to stop himself from thinking that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
He worked at controlling his thoughts as he made his way towards her. This was no easy task, she was even lovelier up close. She craned her slender neck every which way, obviously searching for someone. “Miss. Elliot?” he asked, stopping in front of her. She swung weary eyes to his face. The fear he saw in those pale green orbs was nearly his undoing. His desire to protect this young woman caught him off guard.
“I am Miss Elliot. Who are you?” she asked in a low voice.
He forgot his name and just stared open mouthed at her. He shook his head, remembering that he was a married man, and took the young woman’s arm. He tried to guide her to his waiting carriage but the fragile Miss Elliot dug her heels into the ground and refused to be moved.
Caroline watched the handsome young man through lowered eyes. His dark looks were nearly breath taking, but no way was she going to allow herself to be carried away by a complete stranger. He wasn’t dressed like the other men she had seen on the platform. Where they wore suits and attire similar to what she would have seen at home - he was wearing tight fitting pants, a button down shirt, and a cowboy hat.
She had heard about these kind of men, these cowboys. They were rogues with no gentleman ways. Mrs. Patterson, who was her father’s dearest friend, had warned her not to trust them under any circumstance. But Mrs. Patterson had also told her that there would be no cowboys in Boston. They lived out west where the cows were.
This cowboy didn’t let go of her arm and he stared down at her with his deep brown eyes. His skin was several shades darker than her own and he was tall. He towered over her, making her feel small by comparison.
“Who are you?” she repeated her question.
“Name’s Calloway. Evan Calloway ma’am,” he said with a slow drawl.
“Well Mr. Calloway,” Caroline pulled her arm free of his grasp, “I am here waiting for my uncle.” Her voice had become hoarse and raspy due to fatigue, anxiety, and hunger. The fact that she had a voice at all pleased her. “”I’ll just wait here for him,” she said dismissively.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this ma’am,” Evan lowered his voice, “but Teddy Elliot died, not two weeks ago.” He watched in alarm as her already pale face went even whiter. “But he was good friends with the pastor,” Evan was quick to assure her.
Caroline tried to focus on what Evan was saying. Was her uncle really dead? What would become of her now? This was her only option. She had no family now, no family in all the world. She was too shocked to even cry.
“And pastor announced at church a few months back that you were looking to be a governess here,” Evan was still talking, “so I have come to take you to his house.” He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t tell her that she would be coming to be a companion to his pregnant wife.
Caroline was sure that she missed most of what Evan said. She tried to look up at him but all she saw were spots of black. She swayed on her feet.
“Miss Elliot?”
“I need to get to Boston,” she murmured before everything went black.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the train pulled to a stop. The passengers in car B were mostly still sleeping or just waking up. A gentleman dressed smartly in a brown business suit had his head heavily on the window, his breathing still even. A large woman sat directly across from him, her head leaned back so far it looked painful. A child was stretched across her lap, his eyes barely open.
One woman however, a Miss. Caroline Elliot - formally of London, was wide awake. She sat at the edge of her seat with her back rim rod straight. Her usually vibrant eyes had dulled and appeared sunken in her pale face. She looked directly in front of her, not really seeing anything.
“Last stop,” a man called from down the aisle, “everyone has to get off here.” Caroline clutched her small bag even tighter to her chest. The skin on her knuckles stretched to the breaking point. Her bottom lip threatened to quiver but she forced herself to stay calm. “Last stop,” the man said more gently once he was close to her seat.
“Oh!” The plump woman hurried into action. She grabbed her bag and the child’s hand. With a sharp wrap to the man’s knee she pushed her way out of the car. “Come on, hurry up!” she called in a motherly fashion. Caroline didn’t move her head to watch the man follow behind.
“Ma’am, everyone ahs to get off here,” the man was uncomfortable. “If this isn’t your final stop, you’ll have to check the train schedule for the next one.” He could see that the young woman was terrified. She was probably traveling on her own for the first time. He hated to leave her so helpless.
“I need to get to Boston,” she said quietly, without looking at him. “In Massachutes.”
She missed the smile that lit his eyes. “You are in luck Miss. This is Boston.”
This declaration made her swing her eyes to his face, but only for a moment. “Okay,” she said after a minute. She stood up stiffly and looked uncertainly down the aisle.
“Maybe there will be someone waiting for you at the platform,” the man offered kindly. His own daughter was near the same age as this young woman, and he would never think of putting her on a train all alone.
Caroline nodded and without a word brushed past the kind man. She kept her breathing even and her panic at bay by intense concentration. It wasn’t being alone that scared her, in fact Caroline considered herself an extremely independent woman. But things in this country were so confusing.
After almost three months on a ship, Caroline had been all to eager to been the train that would take her to Boston and to her uncle. She laughed at her own folly when she got off at the first stop and it wasn’t Boston. She had to sit on the platform for three hours waiting for the next train. The second time aggravation had set in. by the fourth time however, she was almost overcome with emotion. Her fatigue made her uncharacteristically unsensible.
She had sat unmoving, refusing to get off the train for two days. Even when the kind man had assured her that she had time to go get something to eat she had refused, choosing instead to eat what little food she had with her.
Now, with shaking legs, Caroline stepped onto the platform. She scanned the crowd nervously. How would she even be able to recognize her uncle? Would he look like her father? They were brothers after all.
Evan Calloway leaned lazily against his wagon, watching the passengers from the train. It appeared that the elusive Miss. Elliot was still not there. He shook his ehad in disapointment. His wife Haley had her ehart set on Miss. Elliot. He was not looking forward to disappointing her again.
Evan had learned from his mother that women were prone to strong emotion when they were with child, but it seemed like Haley was beyond the norm. if he suggest they look for someone else… he winced when he thought of the last time he had suggested it. Evan loved his wife but he had never fancied a woman who liked to cry.
He sighed and pushed himself upright. No point in wasting the day looking at the train, the passangers had stopped coming off the train a while ago. His foot was already on the wagon, prepared to take him to his seat, when he turned back to take one last look. That’s when he saw her.
She was a small woman, she’d probably barely reach his shoulders. Her rusty colored hair was pulled back and covered with a hat but it wisped wildly by her face. She was pale and looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. Despite her haggard appearance, Evan couldn’t help but notice her loveliness. He had to stop himself from thinking that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
He worked at controlling his thoughts as he made his way towards her. This was no easy task, she was even lovelier up close. She craned her slender neck every which way, obviously searching for someone. “Miss. Elliot?” he asked, stopping in front of her. She swung weary eyes to his face. The fear he saw in those pale green orbs was nearly his undoing. His desire to protect this young woman caught him off guard.
“I am Miss Elliot. Who are you?” she asked in a low voice.
He forgot his name and just stared open mouthed at her. He shook his head, remembering that he was a married man, and took the young woman’s arm. He tried to guide her to his waiting carriage but the fragile Miss Elliot dug her heels into the ground and refused to be moved.
Caroline watched the handsome young man through lowered eyes. His dark looks were nearly breath taking, but no way was she going to allow herself to be carried away by a complete stranger. He wasn’t dressed like the other men she had seen on the platform. Where they wore suits and attire similar to what she would have seen at home - he was wearing tight fitting pants, a button down shirt, and a cowboy hat.
She had heard about these kind of men, these cowboys. They were rogues with no gentleman ways. Mrs. Patterson, who was her father’s dearest friend, had warned her not to trust them under any circumstance. But Mrs. Patterson had also told her that there would be no cowboys in Boston. They lived out west where the cows were.
This cowboy didn’t let go of her arm and he stared down at her with his deep brown eyes. His skin was several shades darker than her own and he was tall. He towered over her, making her feel small by comparison.
“Who are you?” she repeated her question.
“Name’s Calloway. Evan Calloway ma’am,” he said with a slow drawl.
“Well Mr. Calloway,” Caroline pulled her arm free of his grasp, “I am here waiting for my uncle.” Her voice had become hoarse and raspy due to fatigue, anxiety, and hunger. The fact that she had a voice at all pleased her. “”I’ll just wait here for him,” she said dismissively.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this ma’am,” Evan lowered his voice, “but Teddy Elliot died, not two weeks ago.” He watched in alarm as her already pale face went even whiter. “But he was good friends with the pastor,” Evan was quick to assure her.
Caroline tried to focus on what Evan was saying. Was her uncle really dead? What would become of her now? This was her only option. She had no family now, no family in all the world. She was too shocked to even cry.
“And pastor announced at church a few months back that you were looking to be a governess here,” Evan was still talking, “so I have come to take you to his house.” He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t tell her that she would be coming to be a companion to his pregnant wife.
Caroline was sure that she missed most of what Evan said. She tried to look up at him but all she saw were spots of black. She swayed on her feet.
“Miss Elliot?”
“I need to get to Boston,” she murmured before everything went black.