Separate Roads (34 page)

“There ya go!”

“How long do you think they will stay—Brenton, Jordan, and Caitlan, I mean?”

“It’s hard telling. But I’ll warrant there is enough here in California to keep a trio of adventurers like them occupied for a good long time.”

——

They were almost there. Jordana had begun to wonder if their excruciating journey would ever come to an end. She had traveled by many different modes in the two years since leaving her childhood home, but even compared to attacks by Indians and bushwhackers, travel by stage was the worst.

The three lady passengers, Jordana, Caitlan, and a portly matron named Mrs. Burleson, were crammed on one side. Jordana supposed she had it better than the four men taking the opposite seat, except that Mrs. Burleson easily took the space of two men. And the woman had the most annoying habit of not only snoring in her sleep, but she also flopped over heavily on Jordana when she slept, which was often. When Mrs. Burleson was awake, she talked incessantly, so that if Jordana couldn’t sleep when the woman slept—a near impossibility given the noise and discomfort—she was unlikely to do so when the woman woke.

The discomfort of the stage itself was another matter. Jordana couldn’t believe she had nearly sold her soul for these seats. The first thing the driver told them upon boarding was that if the team of horses ran away, the passengers should stay with the coach as they were more likely to get injured if they jumped off the coach. He didn’t warn them about overturns, probably because that was such a common occurrence it hardly warranted mentioning. Also, probably for the same reason, he said nothing about the dust and bumps.

Jordana glanced over at Caitlan, whose gaze was fixed out the window. She had been sitting this way for the last fifteen minutes. Jordana didn’t want to tell her that “a watched pot never boils.” Not when Sacramento had to be around the next bend. Like her two companions, Caitlan’s anxiety had to be mixed with anticipation and fear. None of them yet knew what they would find in Sacramento. If Kiernan had died, it would surely be great grief and sorrow. But Jordana made herself believe only the best. She just could not believe God had brought them this far only to mourn a dead brother.

“Do you see anything yet?” Jordana asked her sister-in-law.

“Only dust and rocks and trees. But it can’t be too far ahead. The driver said we’d get there well before sundown.”

“That should be soon, then.”

Jordana glanced at Brenton, who had also drawn the middle seat that day and so had no window to occupy his time. But he was looking at Caitlan and did not notice Jordana, who smiled to herself at the sight. She imagined that the trip in such close quarters must have been difficult for both him and Caitlan, but they had been reserved with each other to the point of being aloof. Even Mrs. Burleson had commented to Jordana about the situation.

“Either those two love each other a great deal, or they are sworn enemies—but I’ll wager my dessert at the next stop that it is the former!” And Mrs. Burleson would only risk her dessert on a sure thing.

Jordana didn’t know how she was going to get those two ninnies together. Maybe Victoria would have some ideas.

Perhaps Jordana’s efforts would be better spent in working out her own “love” problems. She wondered if she would ever be able to heal so completely from her hurt over G.W. as to find true love. But did she want that really? She wanted adventure and independence, too. Could she have it all?

Certainly not with Damon. How could she have been attracted to him in the first place? She was all but certain now that he might very well be a bit “touched in the head.” Not so much because of his questionable business activities, but more because of his practically obsessive attitude toward her. Most normal men would have taken the hint long ago and would have moved on to greener pastures. Not Damon. Sometimes she thought he was actually encouraged by her rebuffs.

Rich O’Brian would certainly not behave so.

Hmm . . . why would she think of Captain O’Brian? Perhaps because of all the men she had encountered since coming west, he was the only one who didn’t get all mushy around her. She appreciated that. She liked a man she didn’t feel she could
handle.
He definitely had his own mind, and that made him pleasantly unpredictable. He didn’t treat her like something between a goddess and an imbecile. But he did treat her with respect—she could tell that even when he was teasing her and browbeating her about her behavior. G.W. had been a lot like that. She had felt on an equal footing with him, and she felt the same way with the captain, even if he was constantly rescuing her from one disaster after another.

Yet, despite that sense of equality, she felt a great respect for Rich. He was smart and levelheaded and strong . . . so very strong. Not to mention tall and good-looking. Closing her eyes, she felt a little tingle course through her as she began to visualize his handsome visage.

“There it is!” Caitlan broke into Jordana’s disconcerting thoughts.

Jordana leaned forward to glimpse out the window and could see buildings up ahead and the definite beginnings of a town. She grasped Caitlan’s arm and smiled reassuringly. No matter what greeted them in Sacramento, they would be together, to love and support one another.

In another ten minutes, the stage rumbled to a stop at the Sacramento terminus of the Central Overland Stage Company. The wheels had barely stopped when Caitlan opened the door latch and jumped out. Jordana followed quickly just as the driver was about to put a step in place. He gave both young ladies a disapproving look for not waiting to be properly escorted in a more seemly fashion from the coach.

Quickly forgetting him, Jordana began to look wildly about for familiar faces. For a moment she despaired, and Caitlan came up beside her with a look on her face Jordana was certain mirrored her own. What if their telegram hadn’t arrived? What if Victoria was too wrought with grief to meet them? What if . . . all manner of outlandish scenarios raced through Jordana’s mind.

Then she saw Victoria step from the station building.

“Victoria!” she cried and ran like a child into her sister’s arms.

It took a full minute before she remembered poor Caitlan standing there alone, not knowing a soul and no doubt feeling forlorn. Jordana reluctantly broke from her embrace and tugged Victoria to where Caitlan had now been joined by Brenton.

“Oh, Brenton! Look at you!” exclaimed Victoria. “You are taller than Papa now. And”—she turned a smiling face toward Caitlan—“you must be Caitlan.” She threw her arms around her sister-in-law and kissed her cheek. “I don’t care if we have never met. You are my sister, and I love you already.”

Caitlan could not speak because of her tears, which flooded even more when a tall redheaded figure appeared close to Victoria.

“Me baby sis! Look at ya!” he said, holding out his arms.

“K-Kiernan!” Caitlan managed. “’Tis really yarself?”

“None other.”

“Oh my!” And she accepted the invitation of those open arms and wrapped her own around the brother she had not seen for so many years.

After everyone else had been properly greeted, the party turned their attention to the pile of luggage on the sidewalk.

“Good thing I have borrowed Charlie Crocker’s wagon!” Kiernan said.

“Brenton had to pay extra for all his photographic equipment,” commented Jordana. “But he couldn’t leave it behind. There are sure to be many new and exciting things for him to capture here in California.”

“I’m doubtin’ ya’ve seen anything like it,” said Kiernan proudly.

And in that single comment Jordana realized this was truly Kiernan and Victoria’s home. She wondered vaguely if she would ever find a place to call home—her very own home.

——

Caitlan’s bewildered sense of being lost had disappeared the moment she had set eyes on her brother at the station. Though she knew she could not be closer to anyone than she was to Brenton and Jordana, there was still something about her own blood. Perhaps it was the Irish in her, but seeing Kiernan had made Caitlan feel
connected
as never before. Perhaps it was seeing the face of her dead father again in Kiernan’s green eyes and in the shape of his nose and the rise of his forehead, and the red hair that had definitely come from their mother, and their ma’s full, expressive lips. It was so sweetly comforting when he put his arms around her, for it was briefly like having her parents back again.

But something else had occurred to Caitlan when that mop of red hair had materialized in the crowd at the station. Perhaps Brenton and Jordana were right after all with their talk of faith. During the stage trip Caitlan had all but convinced herself that her brother would be dead. That she had come thousands of miles, all the way from Ireland, only to have her quest end in sorrow. Something inside her made her fear believing that good could happen to her. Yet, since coming to America, only good had been happening, at least when one looked at the broad picture. She had found Brenton—ah, especially, Brenton—and Jordana, her dearest friend. She had been kept safe through countless dangerous adventures. And now, the best thing of all—she was at last with her brother and he, and his wife, had accepted her, literally, with open arms.

Could it be that God had answered prayers she had not even uttered? Could it be that He really did know and care about a poor Irish girl who had never given God His due?

Could it be . . . ?

“You must eat something, Caitlan,” came Victoria’s voice into Caitlan’s wandering thoughts. “I’ve heard how that stage food is, and we need to put meat on your bones.”

“I’m sorry . . . guess I was daydreamin’ a bit. . . .” Caitlan took the plate of biscuits and snatched one off before passing the plate to Jordana.

They were all seated at the table in the O’Connor kitchen, where a delicious warmth radiated from a fire in the stove and an even better warmth came from the people surrounding Caitlan.

“You must be tired,” said Victoria.

“Not really,” said Caitlan. “I’m just . . . overwhelmed. Everything is so much more wonderful than I could have imagined.” She reached over toward Kiernan, who was seated at her other side at the head of the table, and took his hand. “We were so afraid for ya, Kiernan, that ya might be—” She shook her head as if knowing such thoughts were not for this joyous gathering. “But ya are here, and so are we—finally! And ’tis almost as good as getting a chance to know our da.”

Kiernan’s eyes were glistening with moisture, and his fingers tightened around Caitlan’s hand. “I’m only a big brother, but I’ll take care of ya just like a da, if ya’d like.” He smiled and added, “But how would ya be knowin’ that I look so much like our da? Ya were no more than a babe when he died. In fact, it’s been so long, I can scarcely remember.”

“I had their wedding photograph to remind me,” Caitlan said softly. “And I talked to our sisters. They told me stories about Da. Believe me, Kiernan, ya are more like our da than any of the boys. Except for that patch, if ya don’t mind me saying. Da never had something so dashing and distinguishing on him.”

“Dashing!” Kiernan laughed with disbelief.

“See, I told you,” put in Victoria. “I’ve been trying to tell him how attractive it is.”

“I think he looks like a pirate,” teased Jordana. “A very nice pirate, though.”

“Women!” chuckled Kiernan. “And what do you think, Brenton?”

Caitlan lifted her eyes, taking this opportunity to freely gaze at this man she could love only in secret. Her heart fluttered and she felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“Well . . .” Brenton swallowed as he considered a thoughtful answer. “It does give you an air of authority. I’d say you will have a much easier time managing your crews now.”

Everyone laughed at this, and Brenton looked bemused as if unaware that he had made a joke. How Caitlan did love this serious, unassuming young man. Then his eyes momentarily strayed to hers. Their gazes met, and she hated herself for thinking just then of that shared kiss back in Omaha. The memory, and the fact that she chose just then to think about it, made flaming heat surge into her face. She jerked her eyes quickly away from his, hoping no one had noticed.

“Are you quite all right?” Jordana asked, and there was something in her voice that seemed to say she knew quite well what was happening and wasn’t going to let Caitlan off easily.

“Sure’n I’m fine,” Caitlan lied. “I was just thinkin’ how sorry I am I didn’t get here sooner. I hope ya’ll forgive me that, Kiernan?” She thought it was a good dodge, even if it opened up another can of worms.

“I never gave it a thought,” said Kiernan. “I believe ya came at just the time God wanted ya to. And I am too happy to see ya to be questionin’ anything else.”

Caitlan wondered if she should explain the reasons for her tardiness. But that only made her glance once more at Brenton, who, thankfully, was occupied elsewhere at the moment. At any rate, explanations weren’t really necessary. Besides, Brenton would be returning east soon enough to continue his work with the Union Pacific, so why torture herself? She just had to be thankful that she had her brother now and would somehow make a life for herself in his new home.

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