*** I am not sure if anyone will even like this story, but please review and tell me if I should continue and where you want this story to go, please also read my other Fic " A New Year"… thanks!*** I WILL DEVELOP THE PLOT SOON SO DO NOT SAY IT IS NOT GOING ANYWHERE*** I don't own ANYTHING …don't sue.***
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**DO NOT COPY MY IDEA*** I do not own anything** ***
** I changed a whole lot of things about the story... I recommend you go back and read it over to see the changes... sorry***
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Prairie Lakes, 1893
"But, Mama, he is dying! Surely Miranda would want to see him one last time!" Lizzie pleaded. "And his greatest wish is to be able to see her."
Her mother pushed away her half eaten breakfast. "Elizabeth, dear, what will you do? Ride the trains from one destination to another, asking whether the circus had been in town? And not just any circus, by Miranda's troupe? If I thought it would be possible to find her, I would have done it myself six months ago."
"I know what direction they were headed in," Lizzie said stubbornly. She heard her words come out sounding like Miranda's. Well, fine. She would need every ounce of her friend's stubbornness to convince her parents. "And news of the circus travels so quickly. Surely it wouldn't be so hard to locate her." Her mother and father thought it would be impossible. But she didn't have the bond her and Miranda had to guide them. Lizzie felt certain she could find Miranda, no matter where she was.
"And what about your train fare?" her father asked.
"I'll pay you back, Papa, I promise."
"Really, Elizabeth. This whole idea is so crazy, so unlike you."
"Mama wouldn't you like to have Miranda home again?" Lizzie asked. "Even for a little while?"
She nodded. "Of course I would. More than anything in the world. But I can't permit you to dart around riding one train after another when you don't even know where you are going. Think how dangerous it might be. And my goodness, having both of you gone…." Her mother shuddered.
"Mama, you made a long and dangerous voyage when you were my age, too," Lizzie reminded her.
"The answer is no," her father butted in. "I will not have my daughter going off like a vagabond. Is that clear?"
Lizzie's voice came out quiet and tense. "Yes, Papa." But for the first time in her life, Lizzie was not telling the truth. She hadn't any intention of taking no for an answer. What's more, her father had unwittingly given her an idea.
The gray, flat light of the cloudy new day was just pushing up over the horizon. Lizzie's heart beat so loudly, she was sure every farmer pulling his horse and wagon could hear it. Including her father.
Behind a row of scraggly bushes alongside the train tracks, Lizzie tried to make herself as small as possible. The beat of her heart was accompanied by a word that ran through her head over and over. Vagabond. Vagabond. Vagabond. With shaking hands, Lizzie clutched the bundle that contained a change of clothing, a few precious books to keep her company on her trip, some beef jerky and some fruit and nuts, and the handful of coins that were all her savings in the world, everything wrapped up in her evening star quilt.
She watched the farmers dragging their milk and cream cans toward the depot. A railroad agent prepared to load them as soon as the train arrived. There was Kate's father and there was Gordo's. And heavens! There was Gordo, helping his father. Lizzie's pulse, fast enough already, took off like a locomotive that was out of control. Gordo! She wanted to call his name, to rush up to him and throw herself into his arms.
Instead, she willed herself to stay put in the in dignified squat, her skirts brushing the dirt. Scared and alone, she touched her lips and thought of Gordo's kiss out on the porch swing. Not even he knew her plans; Lizzie hadn't dared tell a sole.
Gordo and his father hauled their final milk can onto the platform. Then they helped her father with his. Lizzie could hear laughter exchanged as they walked back to their wagons. She could only imagine how different they would feel when they found her note saying she was gone.
Shame heated her cheeks. How could she do this? She began to ride from her hiding place. She could still race across the tracks to her father and confess the whole wild scheme. She felt far too frightened to go though with it, anyhow.
The round, rich whistle of the train filled the air, and Lizzie stopped still. Behind that sound was another one, the metallic chug and clang of the train itself, rolling down the tracks toward the station. Lizzie ducked behind the bushed again, peeking her head up just enough to see the huge black engine, breathing gleaming sparks and charcoal cinder and great clouds of smoke into the air.
The locomotive squealed to a stop. Lizzie could hear the mild cans being loaded onto it. This was it. It was now or never. The train cut off her view of the station, but she could picture her father-and Gordo and his father- getting into their wagons. She imagined her mother waking up to find she was gone. Then she thought about Abraham, his sun bruised face so line and motionless against the stark white cover of the straw pillow Dr Good had slipped under his head. She thought about the faint smile that had formed on Old Abe's face when he'd opened his eyes and seen her. He had mouthed her name, barely strong enough to make a sound. Elizabeth. And then he mouthed another name. Miranda.
Lizzie thought about the joy her sister's visit would bring him- if she could find Miranda in time. She thought about what it would be like to have her sister back in Prairie Lakes, back in the bedroom they had shared all their lives, back as one, as a set of two. The girls.
Lizzie left her hiding place and quickly moved along the length of the train until she found a wooden boxcar with the door partway open. She flung her bundle into the depths of the car. Then she pulled herself up after it.