Sorry it's been so long since I updated! (I'm still alive Captain Tish!) Had exams and a job interview and had a slight block. I wrote the chapter that follows this before this one, and I feel this is very much a filler chapter before the next one. But I hope you like it anyway. Please review!
"Ya can't go all the way to Boston!" Mrs Kimble declared when Emma Jane returned to the boarding house, "Not in your condition!"
"I can't let Carolyn's parents find out about her death through a letter," Emma Jane replied, "It's going to be awful enough for them as it is."
"How do ya know they'll even care?" Mrs Kimble asked, "they ain't bothered about her for all these years…"
"Things happen in families, I know that," Emma Jane replied, "but surely any mother would want to be told about their child's death in person. I know I would. Wouldn't you?"
Mrs Kimble made a face, "I suppose so. But why do ya have to go? Can't we send Peter and Kevin? Ya shouldn't be travelling!"
"It's only a day by train. I'll be back in three days."
"And what about the little 'un?" Mrs Kimble gestured to Victoria.
"What about her?"
"Ya can't take her al the way to Boston and back!"
"Why not?"
"She's been shunted back and forth across the country enough already in the last year, Emma Jane. Ain't good for a child." Mrs Kimble sighed, "If yer that set on goin' leave her here with me."
Emma Jane paused. It wasn't that she didn't trust Mrs Kimble to look after Victoria, after all the woman was more of a mother to her than her own, but she had never been separated from Victoria.
"Ain't good for a child to always be hangin' round her mother's neck," Mrs Kimble replied, "She'll be fine here with me. Peter can help, ya know how much he adores her."
"I suppose," Emms Jane replied reluctantly. She looked down at her daughter, "Are you sure you would manage? What with running the boarding house and everything."
"Raised three big boys on my own after my no-good husband left," Mrs Kimble confided, "Reckon I could take care of one little girl." She looked hard at Emma Jane, "Ya sure yer all right? Ya look very pale."
"I'm fine," Emma Jane assured her, "Just tired, it's been a long day."
"Well, if yer gettin' that train tomorrow, get up them stairs and get to bed," Mrs Kimble instructed, "ain't gonna be much good to Carolyn's folks if ya faint at their door."
Emma Jane smiled, "All right, Mrs Kimble, thank you." She lifted Victoria up and carried her up to their room, thinking back to the fiasco at her parents' house. Would her mother care if she had been lying dying like Carolyn? No doubt Mrs Brown would have sighed and said it was no more than she deserved for her lifestyle.
Putting Victoria down in her bed, Emma Jane thought about Hank and hoped he was having a better Christmas than she was.
SSSS
Halfway to Denver, Hank had almost had a change of heart and was about to yell to the stagecoach driver that he wanted to get off and go back. But something stopped him. Perhaps it was the prospect of seeing Emma Jane again, even if it were only for a few short moments in which she told him she never wanted to see him again. He missed seeing her, missed hearing her voice, and knew he only had himself to blame. If he hadn't been so stubborn and pig-headed then he could have stopped her from leaving in the first place.
When he boarded the train in the city, a man and woman came and sat in the same compartment as him. They were clearly newly-weds, all smiles and illicit touching. He wished he could say it reminded him of his own newly-wed status, but the truth was, he and Emma Jane hadn't had such a honeymoon period. He hated himself for the way he had tricked her into marrying him, and he hated himself more for letting her get attacked by that man. Even though he knew he couldn't have prevented it, he still felt guilty.
But all that was going to change. He was going to change and Emma Jane was going to see a whole new Hank Lawson if it killed him.
SSSS
Emma Jane was also sitting on the train contemplating her marriage. She had left Victoria in Mrs Kimble's capable care and told her what to tell the minister should he call round to discuss Carolyn's funeral. Then, she had packed a small bag, not knowing what to expect in Boston, and had headed to catch the first train out of New York. To her surprise, the station had been busy, filled with people travelling home after the holiday or meeting up with family they hadn't had a chance to see. It seemed as though everywhere she looked, there were couples.
As she sat, staring out of the window at the scenery, her mind wandered back to her husband. She ached for him, more than she would ever tell anyone. Mrs Kimble made various references to him, leading remarks that were begging for her to open the floodgates, but she never gave in to temptation. She was afraid the other woman would think her a fool for having fled Colorado Springs, and she knew Thomas still didn't understand why she had come back to the city. Only Isabella had remained silent on the issue. She hadn't ever known Hank, but she had never given Emma Jane the impression that she thought she had done the wrong thing. It was nice not to be judged, but yet she couldn't stop judging herself.
She was just thinking about what she was going to do when the baby was born when the train suddenly slammed on its brakes and began grinding quickly to a halt. Emma Jane was thrown forward in her seat and held out her hand to stop herself from crashing into the seat opposite. The train came to a juddering halt in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. As there was no-one else in her compartment, Emma Jane got up and opened the door to see if she could see what was happening. All along the corridor of the train, other people were doing the same.
"What is it?" one man asked her.
"I've no idea," she replied truthfully.
"Probably a cow on the line," another man replied gruffly, "typical."
At that moment, however, the door at the far end of the carriage was flung open and two men, wearing bandanas over the lower halves of their faces, came barrelling towards them, waving pistols in the air and shouting.
"Back in yer seats!" one of them yelled angrily, "get back in, now!"
Emma Jane darted back into her compartment and sat back down, feeling her heart beating faster in her chest. It was obviously no cow on the line, but a robbery. She sat, hearing her blood pumping around her body, listening as people were reluctantly relived of their possessions, until the door to her apartment slid open and one of the men looked in at her.
"All alone?" he queried, though there was no concern in his tone. Emma Jane looked at him wordlessly. "Hand it over," he held out his hand while pointing the gun at her with the other.
"I…I don't have much money," she replied, fishing in her bag for what little silver there was. Drawing it out, she held it out to him, "that's all I have, honestly." She wasn't about to tell him about the money sewn into her briefs, a trick she had learnt back west.
The man looked at her as if he didn't quite believe her, but then he shrugged, "It'll do. The ring as well."
Emma Jane made to protest, "But…"
"The ring," he repeated, "now!"
With trembling fingers, she prised off her wedding ring and held it out to him. He snatched it from her and then, with a mock salute, disappeared back into the corridor of the train. Emma Jane sat staring at her bare wedding finger. It almost seemed apt that as her marriage was over, so should her ring be taken. But she felt an enormous sense of loss, for it had been the first thing Hank had ever given her, and the one constant for the last ten years.
SSSS
When Hank arrived in Denver, all anyone seemed to be able to talk about was the hold-up on the New York to Boston train earlier that morning. The story didn't interest him particularly, as hold-ups weren't uncommon in the Colorado territory. He had lost count of the number of people who had pointed a gun at him in the saloon and told him to hand over all the cash. In the old days, he had braved them out, been cocky and taken the thieves on, resulting in more often than not a trip to Jake. Even when he had married Emma Jane, he had been the same, his bravado aimed at protecting her while she and the girls hid behind the bar. Since he had become a father, however, Hank's attitude had changed, and he had been more inclined to give it up, always making sure that he never gave it all away. He had wanted to protect his daughter, and yet he had let her go off to New York with her mother, unprotected. His feeling of low self-worth came flooding back, and once again he wondered if it was maybe too late to change.
The train was delayed and so he sat in the station for a good few hours, rehearsing what he was going to say once they were face to face again. By the time he got on the train, he had it all planned out, providing she said nothing in between to throw him off. He would lay all his cards on the table and let her make her choice, and he could only hope and pray it would be the right one.
SSSS
When she got off the train, Emma Jane checked again the address on Carolyn's letter and hurried out of the station to try and hail a carriage. The snow was falling heavily now and she pulled her shawl closer around her for warmth, but it had little effect. There was a queue of carriages waiting and she hurried up to the first one.
"Excuse me," she called to the driver, "could you take me to…" she checked the envelope again, "Matthews Street?"
He looked at her as if she were crazy, "Matthews Street? Easier walking."
She looked back at him, "Really?"
"Sure. Isn't worth me taking you. Just go up this street, take the first right, second left, first right and it's on the left."
"Thank you," she replied, wishing that he would just let her get in the damn carriage. Putting her head down, she made her way up the street. It was difficult, what with the snow lying all around, but as she emerged onto the main street and continued to follow his directions, she realised he had been right, it wasn't far. By the time she reached Matthews Street however, she was freezing, her teeth chattering and her feet numb with cold. Looking at the house numbers, she realised she was at the wrong end, and so continued to make her way down until she came to number 54.
It was a large townhouse, much like her parents' in New York and when she rang the bell, a maid not unlike Helen answered.
"Can I help you?" the maid asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Good evening, I'm sorry to trouble you," Emma Jane said, "I'm looking for Mr and Mrs Adams, are they at home?"
"Who may I say is calling?"
"My name's Emma Jane Lawson. I'm a friend of their daughter's."
"One moment," the maid closed the door, leaving Emma Jane shivering on the stoop. A few moments later, she reappeared, "come in." She held the door open wider and Emma Jane stepped inside. The house was very like her parents, even in terms of the décor, and she found herself looking at the pictures that adorned the wall.
"Hello?" a man's voice caused her to turn around and she saw him coming towards her from along a darkened corridor, "Sally said we had a visitor," he greeted her warmly, "It's always nice to meet our daughter's friends. Here," he held out his hand for her to give him her coat, "You must be freezing. Come into the parlour where my wife is." He led her into another warm, inviting room where a woman sat sewing next to the fire. She looked up as they entered.
"Hello," she greeted Emma Jane, "how lovely to see you. Sit down." Slightly dubious, Emma Jane sat down opposite her. "I hope you didn't walk far," she said, gesturing with her head to Emma Jane's obvious bump/
"No," she replied, "only from the station."
"The station?" the woman declared, "Good heavens, that's miles away! You should have taken a carriage."
Emma Jane wanted to say that she wished she had too, but she let it pass. These people seemed so open and friendly, it was hard to believe they would ever have shunned their daughter.
"So," the man said, coming over with a glass of whiskey, "I've told Sally to bring some tea. What did you say your name was again?"
"Emma Jane Lawson."
"Emma Jane…" he mused, "I'm sorry, I must be getting old, but I don't remember hearing your name ever mentioned. How do you know Felicity?"
"Oh…" Emma Jane said, "I'm not…I mean…I don't."
Mrs Adams looked at her in confusion, "But I thought you said you were a friend of our daughter's."
"I am…I mean, I was…I mean…" Emma Jane sighed, "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you had a daughter named Felicity. I was a friend of Carolyn's."
Mrs Adams went visibly pale and looked at her husband for support, "Roger…"
"Yes, yes," he said, clearing his throat, "Carolyn, you say?"
Emma Jane nodded, "Yes, I…"
"How do you know her?"
"Well…I first met her ten years ago, in Colorado Springs. It's a small town in…well…Colorado. She was…working for my husband."
Mr Adams set his jaw grimly and nodded, "Go on/"
"She left and I didn't see her for a long time after, but I met her again a few months ago in New York, and we became very good friends."
"I'm sorry…" Mrs Adams said, wiping her eyes, "we haven't seen or heard from Carolyn in such a long time that…well it's difficult to talk about."
"I understand."
"How is she?" Mr Adams asked.
Emma Jane felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, "Well she…I…when I met her again, she told me she was…unwell." She was reluctant to tell them it was syphilis, "I'm afraid…I'm afraid she died on Christmas Eve."
At that moment, Sally came in with tea, and seeing the tense faces of the room's occupants, swiftly put it down and left again.
"I…" Mrs Adams stuttered, "but…but…dead?"
"I'm so very sorry," Emma Jane said, "She wrote you a letter…" she took it out of her pocket, "She wanted me to send it to you after…but I felt it was better to tell you face to face. I'm a mother myself and I knew that I would want to be told by someone who…" She was cut off by Mrs Adams beginning to sob, "I'm so sorry." She looked over at Mr Adams who she could see was trying to remain stoic, but his lower lip was trembling.
"Did she suffer?" he asked.
"Her end was quite peaceful," Emma Jane replied, wanting to spare them the image of the deterioration of their child.
"We…we wanted her to get in touch with us, but we never knew where she was," Mrs Adams said, "all these years and we never knew. We just…hoped she would come back to us one day. Why didn't she come back?"
"I think…I think she was afraid that you would be ashamed of what she had done," Emma Jane offered, "I think she was ashamed of it and…and she didn't want…" she tailed off, knowing that everything she was saying was complete rubbish. She reached for her cup of tea and brought it to her lips with trembling fingers.
"Was she alone at the end?" Mr Adams asked.
"No, I was with her."
"Thank God for that," he declared. "Has she been buried?"
"No, not yet. They wanted to give her a pauper's funeral but I stopped them. I thought that…you might want…"
Mrs Adams looked at her with tear stained eyes, "You were a good friend to her."
"I hope so," Emma Jane replied.
"Thank you for telling us," Mr Adams said.
Emma Jane was reluctant to impose on their grief any longer and she stood up to leave, but dizziness over took her and she slumped back down into her seat.
"Are you all right?" Mrs Adams asked, jumping to her feet.
"I'm fine," Emma Jane reassured her, "I'm…just a little dizzy, that's all. The train was robbed on the way here and I think I…"
"Robbed? Were you hurt?"
"No," she replied, glancing down sadly at the place where her wedding ring had once been.
"Have you somewhere to be tonight?" she asked.
"I was planning to just check myself into a small hotel somewhere."
"Nonsense, you must stay here," Mrs Adams looked at her husband, "Mustn't she, Roger."
"Indeed."
"I couldn't possibly…" Emma Jane protested, but she wasn't relishing the thought of going back outside.
"You can and you will," Mrs Adams said, "it'll be nice to speak to someone who…who knew Carolyn. We've missed so much over these last years.
While the Adams' were incredibly hospitable, it was one of the worst nights of Emma Jane's life. She didn't feel particularly well, the effects of being so cold the day before, and while Mrs Adams tried to talk about other things, the conversation inevitably, and understandably, always came back to Carolyn and inevitably to tears. At one point, Emma Jane stood helplessly while Mrs Adams sobbed in her arms. The worst thing was, it brought Emma Jane herself to tears each time, and with each passing cry, she felt more and more drained. When she finally got to bed in one of the spare rooms, she was so exhausted that she couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning while her baby kicked inside her, she eventually gave up and got out of bed to look out the window. The snow had stopped, and the whole of the street looked calm and peaceful in a blanket of white.
There had hardly been any snow in Colorado Springs over the years and to see it all again usually would have given her a thrill, but as a result of everything else that had happened, it ceased to have any effect on her.
"Ow!" she said, as the baby delivered a swift kick in her abdomen, "Settle down," she told it, "I know you're there." She moved back over to bed and climbed back in, lying looking at the ceiling, her hand protectively over her bump. Then she started to cry.
SSSS
The following morning, Emma Jane dragged herself out of bed and downstairs for breakfast, where the Adams' were still in deep despair. Breakfast was undertaken in relative silence, but feeling as ill as she did, Emma Jane didn't protest. She was longing for her bed back at the boarding house, something she had thought she would never wish for, but the thought of a day's train ride back to New York was not appealing.
"How are you this morning, Emma Jane?" Mr Adams asked politely.
"Fine thank you," she replied, not wanting to tell him how awful she felt.
"We were talking last night," he said, "and we want to bring Carolyn back to Boston to be buried."
"I see."
"I've arranged for her coffin to be transported," he continued, "I hope that doesn't horrify you."
"Of course not," she replied, "I think it's a good idea."
He nodded, "The funeral should be in a few days time and you're welcome to stay."
"I…" it was the last thing she wanted, "I said my goodbyes to Carolyn. I think her funeral should be a private affair."
"Thank you," Mrs Adams said, "We appreciate everything you've done for her."
"I didn't do much," Emma Jane said.
"You were there for her. You were with my little girl when she left this world," Mrs Adams said, tears flowing again, "I wasn't, and for that, I'll always feel guilty. But I'm glad she had a friend."
Emma Jane forced down the rest of her breakfast and then gratefully accepted Mr Adam's offer of his carriage back to the station. As she sat back on the journey, she had never felt so awful in her life. Every part of her ached, and she felt sick, something she hadn't experienced for a long time. The baby was vicious this morning, kicking violently against her, causing her to wince in pain more than once.
By the time she was settled on the train, she started to cry again out of sheer despair, exhaustion and pain, both physical and emotional. She needed Hank badly, and he wasn't there.
SSSS
When he alighted at New York, Hank felt a sense of excitement mixed with fear churning inside of him. In a few moments, he would find out if it had all been worth it, if she would take him back and accept his apologies. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out the crumpled piece of paper he had carried with him, Emma Jane's last letter before Christmas. He gazed at the spidery handwriting for a moment, a vision of her coming into his mind, before he glanced at the return address. The boarding house was located on 33rd street and while he couldn't profess to be an expert, as far as he knew, it wasn't the nicest of areas.
Stepping out into the street, he looked around for a carriage, but then decided that it would be better to walk. He had money, most of the saloon's takings, but he wanted to use it for something other than a two minute carriage ride. Putting his head down against the falling snow, he trudged onwards, stopping every so often to look at the street names, until he finally saw the sign for 33rd street. Turning into it, he was immediately hit by the dirt and grim and his impression didn't improve much as he headed for the door of the boarding house.
Hank knocked on the boarding house door and waited, looking up at the grimy windows. It didn't look much of a place, even the saloon looked palatial in comparison. After a moment, the door opened and a heavy-set woman appeared holding a child Hank was positive was Victoria.
"Can I help ya?" she demanded.
"I'm lookin' fer someone," he said, "Emma Jane Lawson?"
The woman eyed him suspiciously, "And who might ya be? Ya ain't the vicar, I can tell that just by lookin' at ya."
"I'm her husband."
Mrs Kimble's eyes grew wide, "Well! About time ya showed up!" She glared at him, "Leavin' the poor girl alone here in the city, and yer child too," she gestured to Victoria.
Hank looked at Victoria, who looked back at him with wide blue eyes that didn't show any great recognition, then he looked back at Mrs Kimble, who showed no sign of being about to invite him in. "Can I come in?"
"I s'pose," Mrs Kimble stepped back, "but she ain't here. She's in Boston."
"Boston?" Hank echoed, following her inside the building, "What's she doin' there?"
"Don't think I should be givin' out Emma Jane's business," Mrs Kimble said, leading the way into the kitchen, "can I get ya some tea?"
"Uh…yeah…thanks," Hank took his hat off, "When will she be back?"
"Hopefully sometime tonight," came the reply, "She left a coupla days ago. Ya want to hold yer child?"
Hank had been about to ask if that was the same day as the robbery, but her quick change of subject threw him and he nodded. Mrs Kimble handed Victoria to him. She seemed fascinated by his hair and grabbed onto it with her hands and started laughing. "She's grown," he commented.
"Yep."
"Mama," Victoria said, looking up at him.
"Yeah," he replied softly, "we both want yer Mama, huh?"
"She's a bit quiet, mind," Mrs Kimble said as she made the tea," doesn't talk as much as some other babies. But I guess that's to be expected, the upheaval she's had in her young life." She looked meaningfully at Hank, who felt himself being well and truly chastised. "What's taken ya so long?"
"What?" he looked at her.
"Said, what's taken ya so long?" she repeated, "Emma Jane's bin here six months now and ya ain't shown yer face until now."
"Ain't none of yer business," he shot back. Victoria started to cry and he held her close, "Between me an' Emma Jane."
Mrs Kimble looked at the man in front of her, the one who very obviously had gotten his wife pregnant and yet didn't seem to give two hoots as to how she and the baby had gotten along these past months. She set a cup down roughly in front of him, "She's a good girl is Emma Jane. Never a bad word to say bout anyone, despite everythin' she's bin through."
"How do ya mean?"
"All that trouble at the Black Bull," Mrs Kimble waved her hand, "Almost gettin' herself killed for a start."
"Killed?" Hank looked at her in horror, "But…"
"Aw, she was fine," she reassured him, "bit battered and bruised but fine. Lucky she didn't go back there, anyway. Found herself a better job making dresses with Mrs Bentley."
"Told me that in her letter."
"I bet she did," Mrs Kimble eyed him from where she was leaning against the counter. He was quite handsome in a country kind of way. It had been years since she'd been anywhere out with New York's boundaries, but she knew a handsome man when she saw one. Emma Jane had been a fool to run away from this one. But then, he hadn't even enquired after the baby…
"She a'right?" Hank asked, lifting his eyes to hers.
Mrs Kimble bit her tongue against everything she wanted to say, "Yep, she's fine."
SSSS
Finally, the journey back to New York was at an end and as the train pulled into the station, Emma Jane forced herself to her feet and made her way out of the train onto the platform. She was longing to get back and see Victoria again, not having realised just how much she had missed her.
As she climbed into a carriage and ordered the driver to take her to the boarding house, Emma Jane felt as though she could fall asleep at any moment. Her head ached, her whole body ached, and there was a slight, unwelcome pain in her abdomen which she had tried to ignore ever since she got off the train. Every time she thought about Mrs Adams and the way she had sobbed in Emma Jane's arms, she wanted to burst into her own tears again. She wasn't sure, however, if she had any left, but emotion sat like a hard lump of candy at the top of her throat.
When the carriage pulled up, the driver kindly helped her down, and she paid him with literally her last few cents. Then, she put one foot in front of the other as best she could and headed for the door.
Emma Jane opened the door to the boarding house with great effort, stepped in, closed it behind her and leant against it briefly. She had never felt so drained in her life, physically and emotionally, her body protesting against the demands she made of it. Inside her, her baby kicked, but she felt no joy at the present moment. Moving slowly along the corridor, she could hear voices coming from the kitchen.
"Emma Jane…?" Mrs Kimble said, opening the door.
"Oh, I'm exhausted," she said, "it was so awful, Mrs Kimble. All I want to do is just go to bed and forget all about it."
"You've got a visitor," Mrs Kimble said.
"What?" Emma Jane wasn't in the mood to see anyone. If it was Thomas, she knew she would have to send him away, "Who is it?"
Mrs Kimble pushed the door open wider and Emma Jane saw Hank rise slowly from his seat at the table. She stood staring at him, unwilling to believe he was actually in front of her.
"Hank?" she breathed, stepping forward slightly.
Hank grinned at her and made to move towards her, when his gaze dropped to her stomach and his smile slipped.
Her resolve broke, and the tears burst from within her, "Hank!" she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him, pressing herself close, "You're here…you're here…"
NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP IN NEXT FEW DAYS!
