Chapter Four
July 8, 1878
The three-day train trip with Alrigo had been so easy. Gianna couldn’t have wished for a more companionable traveling companion. Of course, over the years, they had been thrown together at various social events and developed a close friendship, as close as one could be where no romance was involved.
With neither of them having traveled west of Missouri, they marveled at the changing landscape—leaving the cities behind, crossing flat prairie for as far as could be seen, and pausing at towns so small, they were comprised of only a few streets. On initial sighting, the mountains were a nice break from the even plains. But when the jagged range filled more than half of the window, Gianna realized how big they were. On the first climbs into the foothills, she clung to the seat in front of her.
They’d conversed in Italian except when handling necessary transactions with railroad personnel. Alrigo was knowledgeable about various European countries Tito did business with, even visiting Southern Italy within the past six months. She quizzed him for hours about what he’d seen and what food he’d eaten. After her move to Luisa’s house, Gianna was amazed that the family didn’t eat more traditionally. She truly missed the food of her homeland and intended to prepare her favorite meals for Blake. Breaking bread together was a way to get to know each other on a heart level.
A conductor wearing a gray uniform and black short-billed cap entered the train car from the back. “Next stop, Pueblo.” He walked slowly down the aisle. “Anyone departing in Pueblo should gather your belongings.”
Since changing trains in Denver, Gianna couldn’t fight her growing sense of excitement. Months of picturing Blake Wymer in her mind would come to an end in a short while. Details related to hiring the new governess stretched the calendar and involved much more time than she would have liked.
Alrigo stood and stepped into the aisle, running a hand over the sleeves of his chocolate-brown suit jacket and then the front of his white shirt to the matching vest. While traveling, he hadn’t worn a tie, but when they stayed overnight in Cheyenne, he added a ribbon tie that barely peeked from the collar points. He rose on his toes and stretched to reach his satchel and her small overnight bag. “Standing feels good.”
Gianna slid away from the window and perched on the edge of the cushioned seat. The train’s first-class accommodations ranked as comfortable with a mix of upholstered benches and separate chairs, but she was not used to just sitting all day. Her muscles felt tense, and she longed for a vigorous walk to expend some energy. Was this how the children felt as the school day approached the last minutes?
The train whistle gave two shrill tweets, and the forward momentum slowed.
She got only a brief glance at buildings off to the left before the train stopped. Early on, she’d learned her balance wasn’t as stable as Alrigo’s with standing while the train remained in motion. Of course, he had almost weekly practice with his business trips in the Northeast.
Pushing upright, she accepted her valise and followed Alrigo down the aisle to stand by the door. As she waited, she brushed out the wrinkles in the skirt of her maroon traveling suit. With a raised hand, she checked if her hair pulled into a twist at the back of her head was still tidy. Their layover in Cheyenne last night allowed her to bathe and dress in fresh attire.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Remember, once I travel north tomorrow, I have scheduled meetings in Denver for three days. If you’re not one-hundred-percent certain about this man and your planned arrangement, you can wire me at the Royal Grande Hotel. I’ll come collect and escort you back to Chicago.”
“I know.” Gianna stared into his dark eyes, noting his serious expression. “As you’ve said at least once before. But I wouldn’t have made this trip, and twisted Tito’s arm into having you accompany me, if I didn’t know in my heart I was doing the right thing. It’s—”
“Il destino.” He held up a hand, but then he grinned. “As I’ve heard, more than once.”
The door swung open, letting in a breeze of fresh air.
A porter leaned over to set down a footstool, then he moved back. “Welcome to Pueblo, folks. Please watch your step.”
Alrigo descended the steps, turned, and extended a gloved hand.
Gianna steadied herself with his grasp until she stood on the wooden platform. A squat, one-story building served as the depot with what looked like warehouses standing on either side. She scanned the platform, but no one paid particular attention to her arrival.
The conductor had reported at an earlier stop the train was running a few minutes ahead of schedule.
“Maybe he’s running a few minutes late. Shall we collect my luggage?”
Alrigo glanced around, dark eyebrows arched under his stylish bowler hat. “Your man isn’t here?”
He’d taken to using that term instead of Blake’s name, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. In reality, she couldn’t claim him as hers until he actually proposed. “Better to have all the bags gathered before we meet.” And the delay might serve to settle her stomach jumping with nerves. She trailed Alrigo’s path along the train toward the rear. After watching a porter carry out her trunk and both of their portmanteaus, she observed Alrigo shaking his head and pointing toward the interior of the car.
Alrigo reached into his jacket breast pocket, produced the claim tickets, and extended one.
The porter accepted it and climbed into the baggage car again.
Gianna rushed up to Alrigo’s side. “What is it?”
“The crate with the oils is missing.”
“No.” She started pacing and broke into rapid-fire Italian. “My gift for Blake’s mother is lost? We traveled hundreds of miles across prairies with no missing luggage. And it goes missing while in the same state? How can I hold up my head if I arrive to meet my prospective husband without a traditional gift? I can’t go empty-handed and expect to be welcomed. Oh, this is a bad omen.” She reared back her head and shook a fist. “Un cattivo presagio.”
“Calm down, Gi.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and dipped his knees to meet her gaze. “I’ll get this straightened out. I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning toward the railroad car.
“Are you Miss Rafaello, Miss Gianna Rafaello?”
The deep voice that struggled to pronounce the distinct vowels of her last name made her jump and whirl. Before her stood a man several inches taller than either Tito or Alrigo. His broad-brimmed hat shadowed his face, but she spotted brunet hair that brushed the top of his collar of a light-blue shirt, unbuttoned at the neck.
“Sì, sono lei.” Seeing a tight wrinkle form between his brows, she realized she still spoke in her native language. “Yes, I am Gianna Rafaello.” She spoke her last name slowly, emphasizing the correct pronunciation.
“Welcome to Pueblo.” Smiling, he stepped forward and swept off his hat. “I’m Blake Wymer.”
Gianna advanced one step, suddenly unsure if she should greet him like she would if they met in Salerno or if she should use the more formal handshake more common in America. She studied his face with broad forehead, hazel eyes, and a straight nose for a clue, then thrust out her right hand. “So very nice to meet you.”
Blake took her hand, turned it, and lifted it to his mouth to kiss the back of her glove. A lock of his long hair flopped over his forehead.
She giggled, then pressed her free hand to her mouth.
Frowning, he straightened and swept his hair to the side. “Did I do that wrong?”
She sidled closer and tilted her head. “Did you read about that in a book?”
Color touched his cheeks. He firmed his lips before relaxing them into a faint smile. “I thought you were probably used to European manners. So, I asked my sister, because she reads novels set there.”
How sweet. The effort he put into this first meeting warmed her heart. She refrained from clasping her hands and nestling them under her chin. “My nonno used to greet women that way in our village, but most people consider the gesture too formal and more…come se dice? The word for when only the elders do it.”
“Old-fashioned?” He stared, head tilted to the right.
“Sì.” She smiled. “But your gesture allows me to do what my heart wanted the first moment I saw you.” Gianna squared off in front of Blake, clasped his upper arms, then lifted on tiptoes to bestow a kiss on his left cheek followed by one on the right cheek. Her lips touched smooth skin, but her nose was tickled by long sideburns. Scents of sandalwood and sawdust tickled her nose. She lowered her boot heels to the planks.
“Well, thanks.” Grinning, Blake set his hat atop his head and jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I quite enjoy your style of greeting.”
A sigh escaped. His handsome face was like she imagined…only better. His grin was a little crooked, but the action made his eyes shine.
Footsteps approached.
“Gi, bad news.”
Frowning, she turned toward Alrigo, who stood with his shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Dimmi.”
“The porter thinks it was left behind at the Cheyenne Depot.” He crossed his arms.
“Che cosa?” Throwing her hands up in the air, she paced, lapsed into Italian, and repeated the litany of complaints about what she was supposed to do now with no gift. Had she come all this way only to be viewed as an ungrateful and uncivilized person?
“Gi, parlare inglese.”
Stopping, she glanced at Alrigo.
He rolled his eyes and jerked his head to the left.
Blake waited, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
Next to him stood an older woman, clutching her reticule at her thick waist and wearing a deep frown. Her austere gray gown with black trim at the edge of the collar and cuffs hinted at half-mourning. Jet bobs hung from her ears and comprised her only jewelry.
Gianna stepped forward and forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Mi scusi for my outburst. But, you see, the azienda di ferrovia has lost mi regalo.” She shifted her gaze between Blake and the woman she assumed to be his mother. “I asked Tito…oh, you don’t know who that is. He is the marito of my cugina and has an import-export business.” She waved her hands as if to erase those words. “Anyway, he ordered special olio d’oliva for me to present as a gift. Buttery Lazio for salads and earthy Abruzzo for cooking.” Closing her eyes, she kissed her fingers. “Perfetto.” She opened her eyes and caught Alrigo’s wide grin. “But they are not qui, e my hands are vuoto.” Holding out her hands palms up, she slumped her shoulders. “Per favore, non pensare meno di me.”
The woman cupped a hand to her mouth and leaned close. “Can we leave now and end this most unseemly demonstration? I will not be made a spectacle in my own town.”
Blake turned a narrowed gaze in her direction.
Heat flushed Gianna’s cheeks, and she glanced around to notice several people standing in the shade of the depot overhang and watching their group. Instinctively, she turned toward Alrigo, her security for the past several days.
“Folks, allow me to explain.” Stepping forward, Alrigo extended an arm toward Blake and shook hands. “I’m Alrigo Dante Fabrizio. Gianna’s cousin, Luisa, is my sister-in-law, and I had the honor of escorting Gi on this trip.” He angled his head toward the frowning woman. “And I assume you are Missus Wymer, mother to Blake here?”
Eyes narrowed, she looked at his outstretched hand for several moments before touching the gloved fingertips in a weak shake. “I am. Elfrida Wymer. And I am glad you are present to speak proper English.”
“Mother!” Blake turned and scowled.
“Gi is upset because, in our culture, we have a custom of bringing one of several traditional gifts when we go visiting.” He gave a shrug and a wide smile. “Unfortunately, the railway company’s mistake prevents her from sharing the gift she carefully chose. She is embarrassed about arriving empty-handed to the meeting of such an important woman in her intended’s life.” Turning his head, he shot Gianna a sideways look and winked.
Ah, so this is how Alrigo brings value to Tito’s business. Gianna nodded, opened her mouth to thank him, and thought of the English words. “Thank you, Alrigo.” She laid a hand on his bicep. “He has a calmer head for handling these annoying details.” Seeing Missus Wymer glare at her gesture, she let her hand drop to her side. “But I have been remiss.” She stepped in front of Blake’s mother. “In my upset about the lost gift, I failed to greet you properly. Ciao, Missus Wymer.” She repeated the same movements she’d enacted with Blake—seeing too late Blake’s wide eyes and head shakes. The greeting felt like she’d delivered the kisses to a tree that smelled of musty roses.
Missus Wymer wrenched her arms away. “Enough of that in public.” She turned her back to face her son. “I really would like to leave now.”
Nodding, Blake clapped his hands. “Alrigo, shall we collect the luggage and load it into my wagon?”
The men walked off, and Gianna stood almost rooted to the wooden platform. Blake’s mother didn’t like her. Or, at least, that was how she interpreted her words and behavior. Such an abrasive attitude had never been directed her way, and she didn’t know how to respond. Should she ignore the woman’s rude comments, like Blake seemed to? Or should she stand up for herself and ask for an explanation of what she’d done wrong so she wouldn’t repeat the offense?
A few minutes later, Alrigo walked to her side, cupped her elbow, and guided her down the depot steps.
When her boots touched dirt, she stopped and stared. Years had passed since she walked on a street made of hard-packed dirt. More often she was in a city park or the landscaped garden behind the mansion when encountering dirt. Lifting her head, she gazed at the street. All the buildings—one- and two-story—were constructed of wood. Not a rock, marble, limestone, or concrete structure in sight. The town looked so…temporary.
“Gi, don’t gawk. Walk to the left.”
Alrigo’s whispered commands started her moving. She stopped next to a wagon with room for two, maybe three, people on the bench, and half of the space was already occupied by Missus Wymer.
Blake stepped into her line of vision. “I’m sorry, Gianna. I didn’t think this all the way through. First, I didn’t know you’d have a traveling companion.” He shook his head and drew a hand down his face. “But, of course, I should have. Because you wouldn’t be safe traveling on your own.” He ducked his head.
She thought he muttered, “Not for such a beautiful lady.” A shiver ran over her skin, followed by an immediate flush. The compliment eased her angst about the disastrous introduction to his mother.
Looking up, he leaned his head closer. “Second, I didn’t consider the seating when Mother demanded to be included.”
“Maybe I can find a hansom cab to hire.” Alrigo craned his neck to look up and down the street that bordered the railroad tracks.
“A what?” Blake glanced up. “The livery has carriages to rent, but why go to the expense?” He moved to the side and waved an arm. “I can pull down the tailgate, and you two can sit there. The ride to my house is not long. I’ll drive the team slow enough you won’t be at risk.”
Alrigo nudged her side. “How about it, Gi? Up for a Western adventure?”
Shaking her head, she smiled into Alrigo’s laughing dark eyes. Just like him to make light of the difficulties they encountered. “Why not? Think of Luisa’s reaction when I write about it.” Before she knew it, she was swept up by Alrigo’s hands at her waist and deposited onto the back of the wagon. She hurried to straighten her skirts over her ankles. When she looked up, she spotted Blake’s narrowed gaze and set jaw. What did I do wrong now?