Chapter One
WEST FORK, KENTUCKY- October 1877
The envelopes were bent and filthy, and one had a large tear at the corner, but Eleanor Stevens had never seen two more beautiful things in her life.
“I sure do hope that’s good news for you,” the old postman said. He was new in his job, but as infrequent as mail was in West Fork, he appeared to enjoy it more than going down into the mines every day.
“It is, I think.” Eleanor could hardly breathe with how quickly her heart was beating. She glanced up from the envelopes to Mr. Farraday. “I’m glad you were able to get this position.” She laid a hand on his gnarled fingers.
“As am I, sweet girl. As am I.” He looked at her with such sympathy, she thought her heart might burst. It was a look she and several other women in the mining town had received often as of late, ever since the explosion in late August had killed eleven men, including Eleanor’s own husband.
Eleanor swallowed the rising mix of sadness and panic that threatened to engulf her again. She had too much to do and no time for tears. She fixed her eyes on the envelopes as she said goodbye to Mr. Farraday. Outside, the dirty ivory paper gleamed in the afternoon sun.Thiswas hope.
Hope and a new life, for both herself and her older sister. Eleanor clung to that feeling and walked as fast as she could tothe tiny, ramshackle home that currently housed two families plus Eleanor.
It was a bright, warm fall day, and Rebecca sat outside, an endless basket of darning at her side. She looked up in alarm as Eleanor nearly skidded to a stop in front of her. Rebecca immediately dropped the child’s dress she was working on and jumped up. “What happened?”
The last several weeks had been filled with loss and terrible news. The explosion, learning that both of their husbands had perished, and then finding out they would lose their homes without a working man to occupy them had put both women in a state of expecting the worst.
But this time, Eleanor had something wonderful to share with her sister.
She held out the envelopes and grinned as Rebecca read the names of the addressees. Her sister clapped a hand over her mouth. “Are those . . .?”
“Yes!” Eleanor turned the envelopes over to show the names of the senders. Both carried male names from Crest Stone, Colorado.
“Oh!” Rebecca’s eyes were wide as she stared at Eleanor. “I can’t believe it. They wrote.” Her growing smile fell. “Would they write if they were uninterested? Perhaps they only wanted to tell us they’d chosen someone else.”
“And waste the cost of postage? Not to mention paper and ink.” Eleanor clung to this shred of hope as if it were the last thing she’d ever have. She refused to believe the envelopes contained rejections. Not after everything she and Rebecca had been through. AndespeciallyRebecca. As much as Eleanor had hoped for children, seeing her sister struggle with feeding and caring for five little ones without a husband or a home of her own was harder than anything she’d experienced herself.
Please let this be good news for Rebecca, she prayed silently. Even if Eleanor’s letter was a rejection, Rebecca’s couldn’t be. Their dear friend Neela had opened her home to them, but the two room shack was hardly enough space for four adults and eight children. The arrangement was temporary, and Eleanor hoped to be gone before Neela was forced to ask them to leave.
“Where are the children?” Eleanor asked, looking past Rebecca to the door.
“Gwynnie took them down to the creek to look for crawdads,” Rebecca said, referring to her eldest daughter.
“Good.” Reading these letters was something best done alone, without little eyes peering over the edges of the paper. She glanced at the homes next door. No one was outside.
“Neela is off doing her washing,” Rebecca said, eager eyes fixed on the envelopes.
“Shall we read them out here, then?”
Rebecca hesitated, and then nodded. She sank back into her chair, and Eleanor sat on the ground in front of her. She handed her sister the letter addressed to her, but Rebecca shook her head.
“I can’t. I’m trembling. Will you read it for me?” Rebecca clutched her hands in her lap.
“Of course.” If it were bad news, Eleanor could take a moment to figure out how to share that with her sister. She forced herself to open Rebecca’s envelope carefully instead of ripping it open in haste. She unfolded the single sheet of paper to short missive written in slanted script.
Skimming the man’s words quickly, Eleanor thought she might faint with relief.
“What does he say?” Rebecca’s voice was edged in anxiety.
Eleanor smiled and read the letter out loud. Edward Whiteside was a farmer, and he was eager to be married and more than happy to take on Rebecca’s children. A farm,he wrote, was the perfect place for children to live and learn responsibility. He needed no further correspondence, only confirmation that she planned to use the enclosed rail tickets.
Eleanor glanced into the envelope as happy tears streamed down her sister’s face. She withdrew six paper tickets.
“Open yours,” Rebecca said as she swiped away her tears. “I can’t be truly happy until I know what your letter says.”
“All right.” Eleanor bit her lip as she examined her envelope. There was no use in putting it off. If it wasn’t good news, well . . . she’d decide what to do then. With a determined hand, she tore the envelope open. Two folded sheets of paper sat inside. But unlike Rebecca’s envelope, there was no accompanying train ticket.
