A/N – Thank you all for the positive feedback!

And don't worry. I'm not going to give up on this story. :-)

Chapter 2

That night, we sat down silently to have dinner in the dimly candle-lit dining hall – my mother, father, and I. The only sound was the clinking of our glasses as the servants came and brought in the next courses. My father broke the silence with, "Sophia, my love, make sure all the things were needed are packed. Mr. de Silva told me that you won't find many shops in town at Carmel."

"I'll tell Nancy to put in some extra sheets then," mother nodded appreciatively.

I took this opportunity to bring up the fact that I wanted to go along. I voiced my opinion thus, "Father, will you not let me come with you?"

He shook his head. "Susannah it's too dangerous -"

"Father, please!" I pleaded.

"Susannah, you've never seen anything outside of this house – and your life here in New York. You don't know what you'll find out there. Your mother and I, we know what it's like. But you're too used to the pampered life we've built for you."

"Father, I'm coming," I said firmly.

My father met my glare, but with a sigh, he sagged in his seat. "I'm sorry, that's just not a possibility."

I shot a glance at my mother, but she looked at me and shook her head. "I don't know, Susannah. You're father does have a point. Even though I'm concerned about you staying home alone..."

"Then let me come!" I said.

"Susannah, this discussion is closed," father said firmly. I knew that any pleaded or persuading would not prevail. I felt my eyes welling up, but I firmly told myself not to cry.

But as soon as dinner was over, I dashed up the stairs, and flung myself on the bed. I began weeping in the tears I'd been holding in.

The door creaked open. "Hello Martha," I muttered.

"Don 'a cry, Miss," she murmured, and slowly approached me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"It's not fair," I whispered through my streaks of tears. I turned around, and sat up on my bed. "You left Ireland to come here when you were four. I haven't even left the state of New York."

"Aw, is tha' all?" she chuckled. "Yer comparin' yeerself with ol' Martha? Oh, miss, you don'a be needin' to leave the country!"

"I don't want to leave the country," I told her. "Just go to Carmel."

Martha smiled. "Travelin' though, ain't all it's said to be, though, miss." Her eyes looked off into the distance, and her smile seemed the sadder for it. "I couldnna counted the long days on the tossin' and turnin' sea, and was I ever glad to set me own feet on a piece of land that didnna move!" she laughed.

"But we wouldn't be going on boat," I told her earnestly. "We'd be going by train."

"Oh, I know that, miss. But all the same…"

I turned curious, "Tell me about how you came to America, Martha."

"Oh, miss," she stood up. "It's a long tale, for another, longer nigh'. It's best if yee be off to bed."

"I'm not four, Martha," I grumbled, but I got off the bed, and Martha helped me into my sleeping clothes, and loosened my corset for me.

The following morning, I woke up fairly early. In fact, I was startled when I walked down the stairs to see Mr. de Silva and his son in the living room chatting with my father, their voices hurried and earnest.

I didn't want to make a scene, and I knew my father would kick me out if I walked in there, so I did the next best thing: I stood outside the half-open door, straining to listen to the conversation.

"We just received a telegram from my wife," Mr. de Silva told my father. "She says we need to get down to the ranch. She told me it was very urgent. Please –can you come with me by the end of this week?"

"This week!" my father said, astonished. He was quiet for a moment before saying. "Is this necessary?"

"If Maria says it's urgent," said Mr. de Silva firmly. "Then it must be."

"Very well," my father's tone was somber. "I'll tell my wife to have the things ready by Thursday, latest."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Simon."

"It's no trouble. I only need to figure out what must be done with Susannah. She was going to stay with my sister in Massachusetts, but Josephine won't be back till the following Monday."

I felt my insides dancing for joy as I listened on. Maybe there was still hope.

Suddenly I head the scrapping of chairs on the tile. I had only an instant to disappear before they walked out of the door. I ran a little ways, and then turned around quickly, pretending I had just been heading towards the living room. "Father," I said in false surprise. "Mr. de Silva, Jesse!"

"Susannah," my father turned to me, and said seriously. "I'll need to talk with you later."

"Oh, very well," I gave my best wide-eyed, unknowing look. I think I had him fooled, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jesse scrutinizing me suspiciously.

I wanted to shoot him an angry look, but I couldn't. So I smiled demurely, and with a curtsey, I left.

As soon as they couldn't see me, I skipped and pranced down the hall with joy, and not even a certain someone's suspicious scrutiny could darken my beautiful day.