“What?”
“My mother is much too ill, and if she is dying, I have to be with her. Only the Lord knows how long she has.”
The room tilted for a moment as Martha digested this news. Then it righted again, leaving her lightheaded. “I see.”
She really was alone now.
“I will write to you every chance I get. Please know how hard this is for me, Martha. You know how much I care for you. You are like a little sister to me, and I will miss seeing you every day. Your inquisitive nature and thirst for learning are adelight. As is the tender heart you possess but hide away. As your mother teaches you the ways of society, don’t lose those things. They are gifts and will serve you well in life, dear one.” Phoebe hugged Martha one last time. “I will miss you.”
She could scarcely return the affection. Her heart constricted, making it difficult to breathe. Phoebe patted her cheek then made her way out the door. In a daze, Martha followed her, remembering that Mother wanted her to properly see Phoebe on her way. She walked downstairs in time to see a footman pass Phoebe’s bags to a hansom cab driver. Mother was by the door, looking every inch the perfect hostess.
Martha took her place by Mother’s side. Phoebe looked at the two of them with a sad smile. She held her hand out to Mother, a bold move.
“Thank you for the years of employment in your house, Mrs. Jankowski. It was a pleasure to serve your family.”
Mother’s smile was thin. “We appreciate your service. I trust the letter of reference I gave you will be enough if you must find employment?”
Phoebe dropped her hand, her cheeks sporting two red splotches. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Mother nodded. “You will not want to be late for your train. Say your good-byes, Martha.”
Martha fought to exhibit the same cool, calm demeanor as her mother, but her best friend in the whole world was leaving. Theonlyfriend she had. Her confidante. Her guide. She swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged Phoebe tight one last time. “I pray your journey is safe.”
Phoebe smiled. “Thank you, dear one. I pray we meet again someday.”
Martha released her and nodded, a lone tear trailing down her cheek. “Me too.”
“Martha!” Mother’s voice cut through the marbled hallway.
Her insides cringed as she straightened her shoulders andstepped back into the foyer. There would be no other good-byes.
The large oak door shut with a final click. Martha inhaled a sharp breath through her nose to stem her emotions. She would mourn later.
When she was alone.
She turned, steeling herself to meet her mother’s expectations.
1884•ATTHEFOOTOFTHEROCKYMOUNTAINS, WESTOFDENVER, COLORADO
Martha stood at the trailhead, sweat slicking her palms. The spring sun was hot on her face, and her feet itched inside her work boots. But she’d have to ignore it. Nothing could stand in her way today.
A breeze teased tendrils of hair across her forehead. She promptly shoved them back under her bonnet and took a deep breath. She would not waste this opportunity. A large shadow blocked the sun, and Martha looked up. Mr. Johnson gave her a smile. He’d been the foreman for her father’s dig years ago, and now he was the key to her getting the chance to follow in Father’s footsteps.
Today, Martha would join her first dig. Shewould.
Wiping her hands on her work dress, she smiled back at the foreman. “Mother said you would be here today and let me work on your dig.”
“Indeed, Miss Jankowski. It’s an honor to meet you. I remember many stories about you from your father.” His smile slid into a frown. “It’s a shame he can’t join us.”
Martha nodded, without an adequate response to this giant of a man. Itwasa shame her father was no longer digging, but what were the proper manners in this situation? Especially after she’d connived her way here with her mother to allowit. Best to just continue on with confidence, right? “This is my companion, Miss Ducasse.”
The older woman tipped her head, her face shadowed by the large parasol keeping the sun from her pale skin.
“It’s a privilege to meet you, Miss Ducasse. And a pleasure to have Antoni Jankowski’s daughter with us. Follow me, please. I will show you where we are working.”
The trio made their way to a small quarry where only a handful of men were working. Martha surveyed the scene. Her stomach seemed filled with butterflies. But along with her excitement, doubts niggled at the back of her mind. Even though this dig was smaller than the one she remembered. Less activity, fewer men working. Even the quarry itself was tiny compared to the dig she’d attended with Father. Of course, everything was enormous at the age of six.
Now her eighteen-year-old eyes took in the reality of the dig site.
