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Still she could not prevent the longing in her heart for what Sam represented.
Hadn’t she learned enough lessons? Hadn’t she paid for enough mistakes? But, in spite of her own reasoning, the pestering thought could not be so easily ignored.
What if Sam was the real thing? What if he were her chance at finding true happiness?
Truth, no matter how much she hated to admit it to herself, she was so terribly happy around him. He made her feel things she thought she’d never feel again.
But he had the power to hurt her and she swore never would she give that power over to anyone again.
Coming to stop at the edge of a busy street, she spied the prison in the distance. Before her the road was littered with horses and buggies as well as the odd merchant cart or bicycle. They temporarily blocked her view, but she noticed the gray wall of the prison being surrounded by a crowd of curious spectators, doing their best to get a glimpse of the gallows within.
It reminded her of Sam’s retelling of his mother’s death. What had been a very private and painful event for him, had been entertainment for others.
The reminder had Ivy thinking about Sam’s own past and his own path through the dark forest of his childhood. He had suffered greatly. Even more than Ivy had. The one person in the world he trusted above all had failed him. A person whose love and faith were the cornerstone to a child’s mental stability any lasting relationships formed in later in years.
The corrections patrol wagon which had delivered Ivy that night to this prison, pulled up in front of the crowd. The back opened and an officer emerged, followed by Stella. She looked the same except for the eyes. Never before had Ivy ever seen so much anguish fill their depths.
Her heart broke for her old friend, and she wished there was something she could do for her. But more importantly, she realized with a start, she wished there was something she could do for Sam.
He had broken through that dark forest a lonely and needy young boy. He reached out for the love he so desperately wanted, and got hurt in the process. If it had been anyone else, they would have given up right then. But he hadn’t. A little shaky and a little bruised, he held it out once more, to Ivy.
And she rejected it.
Her lids came down hard at the painful realization of what she had done. She had put her own fears before him, not even bothering to acknowledge his.
She turned on her heel and stared blindly down the street from which she just came. Of course, he wasn’t there. Her chest heaved as she felt her pulse escalate. Could she be as brave as Sam? Could she hold out her heart, even at the risk of having it crushed? For that was surely what would happen if Sam abandoned her again.
She didn’t know, but she had to try.
With a little cry, she started heading back down the street. If they tried together they could be that much stronger.
As if to torment her, the train’s whistle echoed over the town’s buildings. Picking up speed, Ivy hurried down the cemented walkways until she reached the corner Sam had disappeared from. The station could be seen at the far end of the street, the train’s black engine like a huge black smudge on the horizon.
Thank goodness, it was still there.
She began to hurry, fearful it would pull away any moment. The whistle blew once more giving passengers their last warning.
Ivy reached the overcrowded station and looked around desperately. Horses and buggies filled the depot. Women in highly elaborate hats with children in matching attires lined the platform. While men of various sizes and color accompanied them. But none were Sam.
Folks started to embark and Ivy’s fears increased. If he boarded the train, she’d never see him again. Nearly running, she pushed past passengers annoyed by her shoving, but Ivy gave them no heed. She needed to find Sam.
Her eyes darted everywhere, her head felt like it was spinning, but still no sign of him. Smoke from the steam engine filled the platform as she ran down the wooded planks. Her skirts billowing around her legs. A porter stood near one of the cars, helping an old lady board.
“Excuse me. Has a man with blond hair already boarded?”
He frowned down at her blankly and said, “Plenty.”
She bit her lip in worry, then said, “A cowboy?”
An understanding look lit up his face, but he shook his head. “Sorry ma’am. No cowboys.”
She sighed and thanked him before continuing her search. It didn’t take long before the crowd had thinned considerably as passengers loaded the train. Not sure what else to do, she returned to the same porter.
“I’m sorry to bother ye again, but would it be all right if I went on board and had a look?”
“You have a ticket?”
“No.”
