All was right with the world once again.
1872, THREEMONTHSLATER•DENVERCITY,
COLORADOTERRITORY
“What time is it, Nurse McGee?”
The older woman glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room. “It is two in the afternoon, Miss Martha. Asking me the time won’t make it go any faster.”
Martha sighed and leaned back into the stiff back of the settee. Her legs swung back and forth, swirling the white ruffles of her dress up in the air. Waiting was boring. Dressing like a proper girl was boring. She missed the dirt and going to Father’s dig site. Looking at pretty rocks and finding old bones was better than learning how to sit right.
“Enough of that, miss. If your mother saw you acting like this, she’d be upset for sure.” Her nurse came over and smoothed Martha’s dress back over her knees. With deft fingers she tightened the pale pink bows around the curly pigtails draped over Martha’s shoulders. “Back straight. There’s a good girl. Looking pretty like a fine miss. Won’t that make your mother and father happy?”
Martha nodded. “What time are they coming?”
Nurse sat down next to her. “Two thirty. Only twenty more minutes. How about we read to pass the time?”
“No, thank you. Can I sit by the window and watch for them? I’ll sit very still like a good girl and not kick my legs.” She folded her hands under her chin. “Please?”
Nurse McGee studied her for a moment, green eyes narrowed as if she were searching for any trace of a lie in her face. Martha made her eyes wide and innocent.
“All right. You may. But the first sign of kicking and it’s back in the chair. And when you hear the carriage, you come sit right back in this chair like your mother wants.”
Martha jumped out of the chair and threw her armsaround Nurse’s waist. “Thank you!” She skipped to the chair by the big picture window, ignoring the reprimanding cough. She hadn’t promised not to skip. She sat in the chair, adjusting the ruffles over her knees, and folded her hands in her lap. The large trees in the front yard hid the activity of the street from view. But there were still plenty of things to see.
Two monarch butterflies danced in and out of the delicate purple blooms of wisteria just outside the window. A small hare bounded across the grass, pausing only to sniff a patch of white columbines. A squirrel darted up the maple tree—the one Mother insisted on planting so she could have a color other than yellow in the fall—and then disappeared into its large green leaves. Soon those leaves would turn the most beautiful shade of red. A color Martha adored.
The clopping of hooves drew her attention away from the animals in the front yard. Her parents’ large black coach pulled up to the wrought iron gate. The coats of the black Clydesdale horses gleamed in the afternoon sun. Maybe if she was a good girl, and Mother was happy with her manners, Nurse would take her to the stables later to feed the horses carrots and sugar cubes.
She slid from the chair and raced back to the couch. “They’re here! They’re here!”
“Miss Martha! Lower your voice, child. They probably heard you all the way in Wyoming Territory,” her nurse hissed, fussing over her dress and hair once more. “If Mrs. Jankowski saw you like that, I’d be fired for sure.” With one final look, Nurse McGee nodded. She made her way to the small chair in the corner of the room and picked up her embroidery hoop.
Muffled voices filtered through the partially open drawing room door. Martha resisted the urge to peek. Mother was constantly telling her that ladies didn’t listen in on the conversations of others. She was determined to be propertoday. Make her parents proud. The door swung open, and she stood, her trembling fingers pressing into the folds of her dress.
Mother entered the room, the train of her dark blue traveling gown swishing over the carpet. She approached, and Martha stared.
Mother was smiling!
“Hello, my dear. How pretty you look today. That pink in your hair is lovely.” She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion. “Your father will come to tea in a moment. Sit for now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Martha swallowed. “You look lovely today as well.” Her mother loved compliments. Martha gave her mother a small smile, careful not to show her teeth. A lady never showed her teeth. She sat on the edge of the couch, keeping her back straight. “Did you have a nice journey?”
Mother’s smile grew, and she took Martha’s hand. “These are very nice manners, my dear daughter. I am proud of you.”
The words warmed Martha almost as much as Mother’s hand holding hers. “Nurse has been helping me be proper every day since you left.”
“I can see that. You have done well. Now”—Mother shifted and brought her face close to Martha’s—“I have something to tell you that might be upsetting. But I need you to be a brave girl.”
She nodded, the words making her insides quiver. Stiffening, she pinched her lips together and chanted in her mindBe brave, be braveover and over. Mother’s breath smelled of mint, and Martha could see the small mark above Mother’s lip that she tried to hide with powder.
Martha’s heartbeat felt like a drum she once saw played in a parade.Boom. Boom. Boom.“I will try.”
“Good. Now your father is home, but he has had an accident. A very bad one.” Mother licked her lips and lookeddown at their joined hands. “He does not look the same, and you will have to be calm when you see him.”
Father hurt? How? When?
Martha’s questions died on her lips when another figure entered the room. A man walked in, his black suit slightly wrinkled. His black tie was askew, a small diamond holding it in place. His dark brown walking stick thumped the floor as he came toward her.
