Allegheny Hideaway. Kimberly Tanner GordonЧитать онлайн книгу.
young women left the train, carrying what bags they could. Iris instructed Hattie to wait by the trunk. “I will find someone to help, and find a place to stay,” she explained.
Iris asked three people where she might stay for the night. They all told her the same thing, “There are no rooms.” Iris was in tears when she returned to her only friend.
“What’s the matter, ma’am?” Hattie wondered.
“There are no rooms! We’ve no place to stay tonight,” she answered before breaking out in a great sob.
Hattie’s heart pounded in fright. Would they have to sleep outside? In a strange place? There could be bad men. This was not good …
“What about that lady, ma’am? The man’s grandma?”
“Maybe … She doesn’t know us and I can’t tell her who I really am. Or that I know her grandson. I can’t tell her!” Iris answered emotionally. She had held it together all week. Why was she losing it now? “What am I going to do?”
“May I be of some service to you, ma’am?” a male voice inquired.
Both women turned at the sound. A tall man dressed in a soldier’s uniform sat upon his horse. He tipped his hat at them.
“Sir, we have only just arrived and there are no rooms to rent,” Iris answered. “We are stranded.”
“I see,” he replied calmly. “That is a problem.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Iris sobbed anew. “I am being punished.”
“There now, ma’am, we will find you a place to stay. Do you know anyone here?” he asked.
Iris shook her head.
“If you don’t mind, may I ask why you are here?” he asked curiously.
“I’m going to live here,” she answered.
“Where here?” he wondered.
“I have to buy a house,” she explained.
The man on the horse looked confused. “Well, miss …” his voice trailed off.
“Missus Blackheart, sir.”
He leaned down to shake her hand. “Captain Sellers, at your service, Missus Blackheart. I know a nice elderly couple who have extra rooms. They might take you in tonight,” he offered.
“Captain Sellers, we would be in your debt,” Iris answered him sincerely.
The man smiled and looked ahead at a group of boys playing near the road. “Johnathan,” he called out.
The hair stood up on Iris’ arms at the mention of that name. But the boys began walking toward them. One in particular was about eleven and couldn’t take his eyes off Hattie. When he came near, he steered clear of her.
“Johnathan, run and fetch Mister Brown’s buggy. I’m taking this woman and her maid home for the night.”
“Home?” Iris gulped out loud. Her heart quickened with a little fear.
“Yes, ma’am. To my folks’ house. I was just on my way there myself for supper. They’re good people, ma’am. You’ll be safe there until you can find a house.” He smiled reassuringly. “Where are you from?”
Iris gulped. “Georgia,” she lied again, knowing it would be futile to try and hide her thick southern accent.
“What brings you up here?” he questioned with amusement.
“My health,” she reported. Actually, that part was the truth. “The doctor told me I had to get away from the scorching hot summers.”
Captain Sellers raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but he said nothing. They waited in silence until the boy returned with the borrowed buggy. Mister Brown had harnessed his horse to pull the contraption.
“Thanks Johnny,” the captain told him.
“Sure Tom. You’re welcome.” The boy smiled at the soldier, then gave Hattie another strange look.
Hattie and Iris helped load the trunk into the wagon. The man instructed Hattie to sit on the back edge while he tied his horse to the rear. He then helped Iris into the front seat. He jumped up as well and led them to his parents’ house half a mile out of town.
“Again, I thank you for your help,” Iris told him.
“You’re welcome, ma’am. Why are you here all alone? Where is your husband?”
Iris said a silent prayer asking God to forgive her for all the lies. She was about to tell another too. “He died at sea this winter, Captain.”
“Oh. My condolences,” he said somberly. “But you came up here from Georgia, all on your own?”
“Yes,” was her simple reply.
Iris remained quiet. Tom thought for a moment about this woman. How very strange was her story. Hard to believe. However, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, for she was quite lovely and would be staying with his parents for a short time. Fortunate for him …
Tom led the wagon into a little glen. The sky was aglow with the colors of a spring sunset as he pulled into the yard. “Here it is,” he told her.
Iris looked around. It was a small farm with a lovely view.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s lovely, Captain,” she answered honestly.
“Come inside and meet my parents. I will unload your trunk in a moment. What’s your maid’s name?”
“Mary Grace.”
“Do come inside, both of you,” he offered. “Ma? Pa?” he asked as he opened the door.
Iris saw an elderly man look up from reading a book in a large chair by the fireplace. Tom’s white-haired mother came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. She stopped in her steps and smiled when she saw their guests.
“Hello, dear. Glad you made it,” she told her son. “Who’s this you’ve brought to join us?”
“Hello, Son,” his father greeted, getting up slowly from his chair. He walked closer for a handshake.
“Father, Mother, may I introduce Missus … forgive me, I have forgotten,” he apologized.
“Blackheart,” she answered with a slight curtsey to his parents.
Both parents nodded. “And Mary Grace,” Tom finished. “Ladies, my parents, Mister and Missus Sellers.”
“How do you do?” Mister Sellers questioned. He reached out to shake not only Iris’ hand, but also Hattie’s. Hattie was not sure how to take it, but timidly extended her hand after a panicked glace at Iris.
“Mother, Missus Blackheart needs a place to stay until she can purchase a home. I told her you had an extra room she and Mary Grace might use,” Tom explained.
“Why certainly,” Missus Sellers responded. “We’d be delighted to have you both. And you’re just in time for supper too,” she told them both with kindness. “Tom, you may put their things in the spare room,” she added.
“Yes, ma’am.” He left to follow her instructions.
Knowing that he could not lift anything heavy, the elder Mister Sellers offered to take Hattie’s smaller bag. “Come, I’ll show you your room,” he told the women.
The small cabin consisted of two bedrooms off the living room, then a kitchen and dining room and a loft for storage. The bed in the spare room was homemade, from tree limbs, rope and a mattress stuffed with fabric scraps. Primitive.
“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s comfortable,” Tom said as he entered the room with Iris’ trunk. “It