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He felt good about this trip and hoped the boys all agreed with him.
When he stowed his gear in a bunker car, he crawled up to sleep. But thoughts of Trudy made him restless and missing her terribly.
Just thinking about her made him want her.
He thought about stopping by the house before he joined the trail drive. If there was time. He wondered how much time Pricilla would take with him. He wondered if she'd be mad, throw a fit, order him out of her house. He could live with that as long as the woman understood it was over.
The next day a beautiful blond-haired woman sat down beside him. She was decked out i
n silks and feathers and when he glanced at her, she curled her lips in a flirty smile.
"Going far?" she asked.
"Boston," he nodded.
"Boston, you don't look like the dude type of man to me," she teased.
"Got some business to take care of there. I'm sure it won't take as long as this train ride." He told her. Out of manners he asked, "Where are you headed?"
"St. Louis."
"Oh, I hear that's a nice town."
"Been there?" she taunted.
"No, that's where my wife is from," he told her.
"Oh," the woman's face seemed to look uneasy now. She stood up, "Well, I hope you enjoy the ride."
He nodded and she left. He smiled, it was nice to know he could attract women, but now that he didn’t need any, they seemed to just pop out of nowhere at him. The woman was a real beauty too.
He changed trains five times before arriving at Boston four days later. The city was old and had so many amenities that he was struck at the differences of north and south. Elevators, trolley cars, street lamps everywhere. Police in uniforms. If he hadn't been so tired, he might have enjoyed seeing the city. But all he really wanted was to get this over and done with.
He sighed, he actually dreaded meeting Priscilla now. What could he say to her, 'sorry, I married another'?
He was so used to speaking bluntly, he wondered if he could learn to use a little tact. After all, he had written to her for two full years, and she had agreed to wed him. So, he supposed he owed her some consideration.
But at least going through this, he would settle all doubts and put it in the past, never to be repeated again.
He checked the address on the letterhead of one of Priscilla's letters. Then he approached a policeman which way to go. "Excuse me sir, but I’m new in town and what's the best way to find an address."
"I can probably help you sir."
Lance handed him the letterhead.
"Oh yes, that's on the other side of town. You'll need to rent a buggy over there on the corner and you can ride right up to the place, I'm sure. It's a beautiful home, one of the oldest in Boston."
"Really, thank you." He tipped his hat to the man.
The policeman was very helpful pointing him to where he could rent a buggy and which direction to go.
He rented a buggy and arrived about three in the afternoon in front of an old Victorian home. It was huge. He craned his neck to see the third story. It had a wraparound porch and looked quite grand. He wondered if Priscilla came from a big family. She hadn't mentioned anyone but a sister.
He wasn't surprised, she said she had maids, and it would take one to clean this place, he noted.
He knocked on the door and a maid answered. "Hello, I'm looking for Priscilla Collins." He told her.
The black maid stared at him, "Ain't no Priscilla here," she told him and almost closed the door.
