Chapter 3
San Antonio, Texas
Having someone to talk to on the weeklong trip out to Texas was a godsend.
Heather couldn’t have been happier. Uncle Alex was a cornucopia of stories all about his escapades as a young man trying to make his mark in the world.
Thanks to his ability to weave a narrative that held her enthralled for hours, she found the days just flew by.
Before she knew it, they were due to arrive in San Antonio late that afternoon.
“You know, being half Irish and half Italian was never easy,” Uncle Alex said with a grin as he sipped his whiskey.
The afternoon sun was peeking out from behind a layer of high white clouds.
It shone in through the dining car window with muted intensity, for which Heather was grateful.
It had been getting steadily hotter the farther south they ventured, and she was beginning to wonder if moving to Texas was a good idea. How was she going to survive the heat?
“You seem to have done well though,” Heather commented, sipping her ginger beer.
Uncle Alex smiled at her. “Yes, I did do well, despite every obstacle that was put in my way. Oh, and there were many. Sometimes they were hard to get around. But never forget that it took a lot of smarts and a great deal of hard work to take my little business and make it the huge success it is now. Never be afraid to get right in there and get your hands dirty when you need to. Things that are worthwhile are often the things you have to fight for, so you’d better be ready to swing some punches.
Sometimes it’s the only way to make sure that you succeed.
” He studied her with an intense expression.
“You want to succeed, right? You want to have your haberdashery be so successful that old men like me come all the way from New York and Boston to have you tailor our suits for us, don’t you? ” He winked a green eye at her.
Nodding, Heather agreed, although she doubted that it would take much to make the haberdashery at least mostly successful.
She planned to run it the same way that the Millers had run theirs.
It had worked well for them for years, so she couldn’t think why it wouldn’t work for her.
There was no need to get dirty that she could see.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Uncle Alex gave a self-satisfied chuckle and leaned back in his chair. “But now it’s your turn.”
“My turn? For what?”
“To tell me about you,” Uncle Alex said, smiling kindly at her. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he watched her. “Tell me about your beau.”
“My beau?” Heather asked, almost choking on her drink. “Mark is … Well, he’s … I … We never really discussed what we are to each other.”
“Heather, my darling girl, you’re moving to Texas for him; trust me, he’s your beau, whether you had a talk about it or not.”
The realization that he was right made her stop.
She hadn’t wanted to consider what Mark was to her, not yet.
There was every possibility she might ruin it by giving whatever she had with Mark a label too soon.
But perhaps it was time to acknowledge that she really liked him.
His letters were wonderful, and he seemed funny, smart, and charming.
I guess he likes me too, or he wouldn’t have written back. Maybe I can have my dream of a home, children, and a loving husband after all.
“Ah yes, you can see it,” Uncle Alex teased.
The heat that rose in Heather’s cheeks as she considered his words made her want to disappear into the floor of the dining car. That wasn’t possible, which meant that the only way out of it was through it, so she soldiered on.
“Mark is a wonderful man,” she said, turning her attention to her glass of ginger beer. For a long moment she watched the bubbles rise to the surface and pop with little fizzing sounds, lost in her thoughts about Mark.
“But something is bothering you.”
With a sigh, she admitted, “Well, the thing is that he didn’t actually invite me to come and stay. I kind of invited myself. That might turn things sour if he wasn’t planning to … You know.”
“Ah. I understand now,” he said and was silent for a bit.
“Of course, you can mitigate any problems by addressing the issue yourself. When you meet him, you can apologize for being presumptuous. Explain that your circumstances were dire, and you needed to go somewhere. Make sure to tell him that you’re not putting pressure on him, but you are open to negotiations. ”
“That sounds very businesslike for a conversation about love,” Heather said.
Uncle Alex laughed. “Marriage is a contract, Heather. It is business and love. So, tell me what Mark does for a living. You said Unity is a mining town. Does he work in the mine?”
Heather had to think for a moment. Mark had had so many jobs, it seemed. “It is a mining town. Copper, I think. But Mark was a deputy sheriff back in his hometown. Now, in his new home, he’s been a miner and worked in the smelter. I think he’s back to being a deputy sheriff now.”
“That’s a lot of jobs,” Uncle Alex said thoughtfully.
“Yes, but even you had a few when you were coming up. You said you started as a clerk in a law firm and then moved to the bank before starting your own business,” Heather reminded him.
“That is true. Who knows, perhaps your Mark will find his ideal job. Hopefully, before the babies come,” Uncle Alex teased.
“Now you’re putting the horse before the cart,” Heather said, swallowing down the blush.
“We haven’t even met in person yet. We might not like each other.
I have no idea what he’s expecting to find.
It makes it ever so much more nerve-wracking.
” Taking a loose strand of hair that always hung around her face, she twirled it between her fingers.
“You never know what someone will find appealing or not.”
Smiling kindly, Uncle Alex took her hand in his. “He’d have to be a fool not to love you, Heather.”
She smiled. “You’re too kind.”
They shared a companionable moment of silence as they smiled at each other.
“Well, if your wedding happens to take place while I’m in town, I’m expecting an invitation,” Uncle Alex said.
“And you’ll definitely get one,” Heather said, beaming.
A couple of hours later, their train pulled into the San Antonio station.
Heather’s bags were packed and ready. She had done a last check of her compartment that morning, but she made another one just in case. Uncle Alex was out on the platform already, waiting for her to join him. She could see him through the window in the door.
Heather hurriedly checked her compartment again and, finding that she hadn’t left anything behind, opened the door and stepped onto the platform.
The hot, humid air hit her in the face, and she instantly began to sweat. The air felt pre-breathed, as though there was no oxygen in it, and she gasped.
“Takes you by surprise, doesn’t it?” Uncle Alex asked, taking her arm.
“You’re used to the cool breezes that come in off the lake.
This is different. Here you’re surrounded by a lot of land, and most of it is cactus country.
The farther south you go, the hotter and drier it becomes.
Trust me, Texas is not for the faint of heart. ”
“I believe you,” Heather said. She fanned herself with her hat. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”
Uncle Alex knew his way around the San Antonio station, and he soon found where the baggage handlers were offloading their crates. Despite three of his having been left in Gordon’s Bay, he still had five huge crates.
Heather watched the men sweating and groaning under their weight. “What have you got in there? It looks very heavy.”
Uncle Alex smiled. “That’s my boot collection.”
Heather shot him a disbelieving look.
He laughed. “You got me. It’s some parts for a factory I’m opening here with some other investors.”
“You didn’t tell me about it,” Heather said. “Is it a big secret?”
Nodding, Uncle Alex said, “It is. In a way. I don’t want my competitors to find out about it, that’s for sure. They’d snap up the idea and try to pass it off like it was theirs.”
“Can they do that?” Heather asked.
“Without a doubt. Some people have no morals.”
With a thud, one of Uncle Alex’s crates hit the ground. The wood cracked and broke, and something black poked out of the side.
“I can’t believe it!” Uncle Alex roared. “You incompetent buffoon!” He stomped over to the poor men who had let the crate drop.
Heather hung back, still discomfited by this other side to her usually kind uncle.
It was business, she understood, but still …
She peered into the baggage car. There was still a lot to offload, and her crates were right there, near the door.
If they weren’t so heavy, she would have tried to carry them herself.
Uncle Alex was yelling at the men, and their supervisor was yelling back at him. It was turning quite ugly. Had something broken in the crate? How could anyone tell? As far as Heather could see, no one had opened the crate at all.
“Excuse me, are you Miss Barnaby?” a porter asked. He had Heather’s trunk and her suitcase on a trolley.
“Yes, I am. I’m just waiting for my crates to be offloaded.”
The porter looked over at the quarreling men. “That could take a while. Where are they?”
She pointed.
The porter looked thoughtful. “Well, we can most likely fix that for you. Give me a moment.”
He hurried off and soon returned with two other men in porter’s uniforms. Together they hurriedly offloaded the crates, stacking them beside Heather’s other luggage.
She tipped them a few coins, and with a smile and a nod, they were off again.
Heather inspected her crates and found them to be in perfect condition. Perhaps luck was shining down on her. It certainly wasn’t shining on Uncle Alex or the baggage handlers. They were still yelling at each other.
“I beg your pardon. Would you happen to be Miss Barnaby?”