“I will always have a place of emptiness where your mother once resided. She meant everything to me. You both did, but when she died, something in me died as well, and I knew I’d be no good to you. My poor precious girl.” He frowned, looking very close to tears.
Laura hadn’t meant to make him so uncomfortable, and in a public place. What was she thinking?
“Forgive me. This is a talk better suited to a private parlor.” She stepped back to where she’d dropped her bag and picked it up. Rejoining him, she gave her father a smile. “I have claim tickets for my trunks. Goodness, but I brought so much stuff. I got rid of as much as possible, but some keepsakes and pieces of memorabilia were impossible to part with.”
“It’s of no worry, as I told you in my letter. We are well-off now. I have a large home for you and staff to wait on your every need. I’ll give these tickets to my driver, and he’ll see to it that the trunks are delivered. For now, I’ll take that bag you’re carrying, and we’ll be on our way.”
She handed over her valise, then took hold of his arm. “I have dreamed of this day for so long.”
He led her through the station and outside, where the wind again whipped at her cloak from every side. Father approached an enclosed carriage as the driver jumped down from his seat in front.
“You have a landau,” Laura observed as the driver opened the door. “What a treat. I came fully expecting buckboards or buggies at best.”
Father assisted her into the carriage, and the scent of leather enveloped her.
Laura took a seat, and her father quickly joined her. He put her bag on the opposite seat and took up a blanket.
“I just had the landau delivered. It is a Christmas gift to us. As we rise to the top, it is only fitting that we travel in style.”
“It’s lovely.” She ran her gloved hand along the leather upholstery. “I’m sure no one has a finer one.”
“I have another smaller conveyance you can handle when you decide to move about town to see friends.”
“You sound as though you are very rich, Father.”
“I am. We are. It’s for you that I’ve labored so long and hard. If we’d had proper money, your mother might not have died. Destitute patients get very little attention, in either the hospital or the church.”
Laura hated to believe that her mother had died purely for lack of money, but Father had always insisted it was so.
“I’ve worked hard this last decade, bettering myself as I could. I invested heavily in the railroad, and it has done me well to be sure. There are, of course, other investments, and the ladies’ store. I think you’ll be impressed with what I’ve created there. I have items brought in from all over the world. Shipped right here to Cheyenne and made available to the women as if they lived in New York City or Paris.”
Pride was evident in his voice. Laura smiled but refrained from telling him that luxury meant very little as far as she was concerned. Many of her friends at school also had money, but even those of lesser means had been far better off than Laura. They had family. Mothers and fathers who came and took them away for holidays and summers. Laura had been left to travel with old-maid teachers or matronly facilitators whose children were grown. More than once she’d remained with the headmistress at the school all summer doing little more than reading and taking long walks. She used to dreamof her father showing up with a train ticket to take her away on some grand adventure. But he never came.
The carriage finally stopped, and the driver opened the door. Father was first to debark, then he turned for Laura.
She gripped his hand and stepped from the landau to gaze up at a flat-faced white house. Snow lay all about the yard, where there wasn’t a single tree or shrub.
The house wasn’t anything elaborate on the outside. It was two-stories tall with a large square frame of white clapboard and multiple windows to break the lack of ornamentation. To one side there was a carriage house, but Laura couldn’t see beyond that.
“This is only a temporary home,” her father explained as they moved toward the front door. “I have property over on Ferguson and plan to build us a mansion. You can see, however, the beautiful windows. Those cost a pretty penny.”
“I know they must have, but they’re lovely, Father. I’m sure you’ve made it a wonderful place.”
“Well, it will be a home now for sure, what with having you here. There’s so much I want you to know about me, Cheyenne, and this territory. I intend to do big things here, Laura. Big things.”
She’d gathered from bits and pieces in his letters that her father had taken a strong interest in politics. He had left more than one hint at hoping to get involved rather than just be a sideline supporter.
“I’ve no doubt you will, Father. How could you not? You’ve done so well in just one decade. Imagine what you’ll accomplish in another.”
He fixed her with a proud look. “Exactly so. Now come. I’ll show you the house and staff.” He opened the door and ushered her inside out of the cold.
Laura was glad to find the house quite warm. She’d never much cared for cold weather. Mother often said the blood of Alabama women was much too thin for the colder climates. Laura didn’t know if that was true or not, but she always suffered during her travels in Europe when they ventured where it was cold. She supposed she would just have to get used to it now.
“This is my housekeeper, Mrs. Duffy,” Father said as three strangers entered the foyer. “She’s agreed to act as your lady’s maid until you can find someone else. She doesn’t live with us, as she has two teenage boys, but she comes every day from six in the morning to nine at night. Her days off vary.”
Laura smiled at the dark-haired woman. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Duffy.”
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Evans.” She had a small frame, but there was an edge in her voice that betrayed strength.
