The Great Wide Somewhere

Chapter Three

Everything passed in a blur for Belle. She had been extremely direct with Gaston concerning her plans to go to Kansas. He handled it well enough and that assured her that his heart wasn't in the courtship. They had parted ways amicably and before she knew it, she was waving goodbye to her father as he left for a honeymoon in Europe. And now, she was on a train to the midland.

She re-read the letters that Jacob and Bae had sent her. Bae's letters brought a smile to her face and lightened her heart. Judging from his earnest words, he was going to be a lovable tornado of a boy. There was a kindness to his desires, a sadly tinged hope of having someone to call mother eventually. Having lost her own mother at a young age, she understood that longing deeply.

But Jacob's letters left her uneasy. He wasn't unkind but he wasn't open either. She had been present for business dealings since she could stand on her own feet and reading between the lines of a conversation was a skill she had developed. Jacob had secrets, that much was obvious, and there was hurt and distrust that had grown up around him. He was doing this for his son, nothing more. She hope she could make a difference in his life, she was certain she could, if he would let her.

No matter how she tried to keep her eyes open, eventually, she failed. The train ride from Maine to Kansas was exhausting. Belle had tried to stay awake for most of the journey but once the landscape changed from rolling hills to flat plains, weariness won the day. It was with a wrinkled dress and gritty eyes that she emerged on the platform of the town Enchanted.

Once she had a better look at the town, she found it could barely be called that. There was one main road where places of business sat on either side. From where she was standing, she could see a mercantile, a saloon, a feed store, post office and steeple of a church. And if that wasn't enough to make her feel uneasy, then the couple of men in dusty overalls grinning at her finished the job.

Without further ado, she marched herself into the station and promptly bought a return ticket home. She didn't know if she would ever use it but it would show good faith on her end of the bargain with Jacob Gold. Two months and she would return home. If he decided to allow her to stay, she could always return it for cash if it came to that. It was completely plausible that he wouldn't he even show at the station.

"Miss French?"

She turned to see a man of slight stature, with light brown hair threaded with gray that brushed his shoulders. He was standing awkwardly, hat in hand and brown eyes lowered to his dusty shoes. Surely this couldn't be man who had written the well worded, although brief, letters to her. Shy was not a word that came to her mind when she remembered his written words. "Mr. Gold, I presume."

"Yes, ma'am."

She took off her travel gloves and extended her hand. It was not the most lady like thing to do but her father taught her the best way to gauge a man was through his handshake. When Gold took her hand, his grip was firm but brief, his palm slightly sweaty. Nervous but honest. "Well, now that we have officially met, no more 'ma'am' and Miss French. My name is Belle."

"Jacob, then." He still wouldn't look her in the eye. "Your trunk?"

"Right there," she pointed to the one nearest to the door but then wondered how he was going to lift it when a tall, broad shouldered man hefted it up with little trouble and carried it out. He was dressed much finer than the farmers surrounding him. "Who is-"

"That's Jefferson Hassett. He tends to like to lurk about and stare at the new arrivals," Gold said quietly as they stepped out of the small building that was the station. "He owns the mercantile but he's more known for his unusual hats in there."

"Hats?"

"Oh yes, little poppet," Jefferson turned with a flourish. "Hats of all shapes and sizes for any and all occasions! Stop by around tea time for an extra treat. My daughter, Grace, is always looking for another guest at the table."

Belle smiled and nodded. "I will keep that offer in mind, Mr. Hassett."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Much obliged, Miss French."

She allowed him to help her up on the buckboard as Jacob settled in the driver's seat and picked up the reins. She managed to pull out her parasol before the horses lurched forward and she almost lost her balance. Gold reached out to steady her but quickly withdrew his hand when he saw she had anchored herself.

"My apologies, Miss French."

She emitted a shaky laugh and opened the parasol, the lest frilly one she owned. "Quite alright. I'm not used to an open carriage. It throws one's balance a bit. And it's Belle."

He started to say something else, most likely apologize again before he settled for a close lipped nod. She knew he wasn't going to be very welcoming but they would have to learn how to be civil towards each other. She figured the best way to get him to open up was to ask about his son.

"So, where's Bae?"

"Back at the house." There was the briefest flicker of a smile. "He wanted to straighten things up before your arrival."

She smiled at that, thankful at least one of them was looking forward to her arrival.


Jacob Gold didn't like being lied to. Belle French had described herself as "sturdy," "used to hard work" and "and just shy of pretty." He had expected a stout, homely matron based on her letters. He was not expecting the beautiful creature that was waiting for him. Thick, glossy auburn curls were pinned underneath a fancy hat, blue sparkling eyes and skin that looked like it hadn't seen much sun. She could sit on the porch of their little house and brighten up the entire farm. Not to mention she didn't look a day over twenty.

He snapped the reins harder than normal. Every time he looked over and caught sight of her perfect profile, her dimpled grin, he was reminded just how this wouldn't work. She wasn't use to farm work. It would destroy her dainty bearing, not to mention her fine clothes. No, she wouldn't last two months, two weeks perhaps.

"So," she broke into his thoughts, "Mr. Hassett spoke of a daughter. Is there a Mrs. Hassett?"

Jefferson Hassett, of course she would be interested in him. Tall, dashing and young. If he was honest with himself, she was a better match to Hassett than him any day. "There was a Mrs. Hassett. Alice, was her name. She died a few years back due to fever."

"That's terrible. How old is Grace?"

"She's a couple years younger than Bae."

Belle worried her lip. "Poor girl. Perhaps, once I get settled, I could take him up on his offer?"

She was asking his permission to return to town and take tea with the Hassetts and he suddenly found himself tongue tied. He was used to Bae asking permission to do things but a woman? Milly never asked permission for anything, she only told him what she was doing. And that was on the days when she felt obliging.

"If you would prefer I don't, I completely understand."

His mouth felt like it was filled with dust but he tried to talk through it. "No, that's fine." Once he was able to get those words out, more came a little easier. "I need to go into town for supplies every couple of weeks. You can visit while I pick them up."

"Thank you."

He was uncomfortable with her looking to him for permission and thanking him for granting it. No one looked up to him for anything. It was unnerving. "We, uh, we don't have much."

"That's fine."

"The house, it's not that large."

"I'm not taking anyone's room, am I?"

"No, nothing like that." Towards the end, Milly had turned the spinning room into her bedroom and had slept there instead of with him. She was gone before Bae had even noticed a difference in the sleeping arrangements. "There's a small room off of the kitchen. That will be yours, if you'll have it. If not, I'm sure we can come to other arrangements."

She resolutely shook her head. "It'll be perfect, I'm sure."

Well, she would know about perfection. He gripped the reins in white knuckles and set his eyes on the horizon. Her trunk, her clothes, her umbrella, everything spoke to her way of life. She was cultured and refined, used to the elegance of a high class woman. Belle French was what Milly Gold wanted to be which left his stomach turning.

He hoped against all hope that Bae would not get attached to Belle. Let her go off and marry someone like Jefferson, that would be best for all of them. Perhaps he should turn around and drop her off at the mercantile right now, save them all some heartache.

Belle shifted on the hard wood of the wagon and huffed slightly. "Look, we're going to have to be sociable to each other. It might be easier if we got to know each other a little. Won't you let me get to know you?"

He glanced over at her briefly and quickly cut his eyes back to the road. If he stared at her pleading blue eyes he would give in to her request. "There's not much to know really."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You won't after a few days." He saw the peeked roof of the house break the horizon and took a deep breath. "There's home."

She sat up straighter, craning her neck for a better view. "It looks lovely."

"You're being too kind," he muttered, not sure if she was being condescending or truthful. The roof was in need of repair and it was in need of a fresh coat of paint.

She shot him a sidelong glance but she didn't say anything else. It was hard not to notice the smile that was creeping across her face as they drew closer to the house. Bae was pacing the length of the porch, dressed in the cleanest clothes he had. When he noticed the buckboard pulling up to the house, he settled himself, standing at the foot of the porch steps and waiting.

Gold watched the surprise and wonder that came over his son's face when Bae finally saw Belle clearly. It was most likely exactly like the look Gold himself had when he first laid eyes on her. The sheer wonder at how someone so lovely would choose to be here with them. He sincerely hoped his son wouldn't get attached but one look at that awestruck face and Gold was certain Bae was already calling her "mama" in his mind.

"You must be Bae." Belle closed her parasol and allowed the fourteen-year-old to help her down from her seat. "You are much handsomer than you described."

"And you're so beau-"

"Bae!" Gold reprimanded and pointed the trunk. "Let's get Miss French settled, shall we?"

He seemed to have a problem leaving Belle's side but eventually he made it over to the back of the wagon and grasped one of the handles of the trunk. "Sorry, Papa."

Gold gave him a brief smile. "It's alright." He had almost said the same thing to her, how could he fault his son for speaking the truth. Together they managed to move the trunk into what was Belle's room. Gold gave the room a quick look and found Bae had done well with straightening it up. Even though it pained Gold, he brought out the quilt Milly had received from her mother as wedding gift and put it on Belle's bed. Bae had even set out the set of silver candlesticks that had been Milly's as well and placed on them on the small dresser. He hoped it would met her approval and then wondered why it even mattered to him. A floor board creaked and he saw Belle standing in the doorway.

"Just what I thought," she gave a stern nod. "It's lovely."

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't ignore the beaming smile on his son's face and he prayed to any god that would listen to make sure this wasn't a mistake.