Thurston House Page 5

  The hotel itself was only eleven years old, and offered every possible comfort. And at last, unable to sleep, Jeremiah took a turn around the lobby. It seemed to be filled with expensively dressed people, women flashing handsome jewels, people returning from late dinners, theater parties, and evenings on the town. There was almost a holiday atmosphere downstairs, and Jeremiah went out for a brief walk down Market Street, and then returned to the hotel to sleep. He had a full day of appointments ahead of him before taking the train the following night, and he wasn’t looking forward to the long confinement on the train on the way to Atlanta. Trains always bored him, and with a sensual smile before he drifted off to sleep, he wondered why he had never thought of bringing Mary Ellen, but the idea was totally absurd … she didn’t belong in this part of his life … no woman did … there was no room for anyone in his business life … or in his private life … or was there? He couldn’t determine the answer as he fell asleep, and by the next morning he had forgotten the question. He had only a vague sense of malaise as he rang for the valet and ordered his breakfast. It arrived on an enormous silver tray half an hour later, along with the coat he had given them to press the night before, and his shoes, which had been shined to perfection. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the Palace was one of the finest hotels in the country, and Jeremiah knew that nothing in Atlanta would compare, not that he really cared. What he dreaded were the six endless days on the train to Georgia.

  As there were no private compartments available on the train, he had reserved an entire car for his private use. A small buffet was set up at one end, and there was an area with a desk in which he could work on the moving train and a bed that could be concealed. He always felt like an animal confined to a cage when he traveled by train. And the food they got at the stations along the way was barely worth eating. The only advantage to the trip was that it was a perfect opportunity to work, as there would be no one for him to speak to during the entire six days crossing the country.

  He was already desperately tired of the journey as he walked into the station in Elko, Nevada, on the second day of the trip. He walked into the restaurant for a brief and predictably indigestible lunch composed of all fried foods like all the other meals they were offered and he noticed a startlingly attractive woman. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, was small and slight, with hair as raven black as his own. She had enormous almost violet eyes and delicate creamy skin and he noticed that she was very fashionably dressed, in a velvet suit that could only have come from Paris. He found himself staring at her throughout his lunch, and couldn’t resist speaking to her as they left the restaurant at the same time, hurrying so as not to miss the train. He held the door open for her, and she smiled at him and then blushed, which he somehow found endearing.

  “Tiresome, isn’t it?” he said, as they hurried toward the train.

  “More like dreadful.” She laughed, and he noticed from her speech that she was British. She had a large, beautifully cut sapphire ring on her left hand, but he didn’t notice a wedding ring, and he found himself intrigued, enough so to wander through the train that afternoon, and he found her in the Pullman car, reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. She looked up at him in surprise, and he smiled down at her, feeling suddenly shy. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, but he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all afternoon, which was rare for him. There was something remarkable and magnetic about her and he felt it now as he stood near her seat, and suddenly she waved to an empty seat across from her. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  He sat across from her and they introduced themselves. Her name was Amelia Goodheart, and he soon discovered that she had been a widow for more than five years, and she was visiting a daughter in the South, and her second grandchild, recently born. Her first had been born only weeks before in San Francisco. Amelia Goodheart lived in New York.

  “You’re awfully spread out, all of you.” He smiled, passing the time, enjoying her smile, watching her remarkable eyes.

  “Too spread out for my taste, I’m afraid. Both of my oldest daughters married last year. The other three children are still at home with me.” She was forty years old and one of the loveliest women Jeremiah had ever seen, and his eyes were riveted to her as the train sped along. It was dinnertime before he could bring himself to stand up, and then suddenly he invited her to dine with him when they stopped at the next town. They left the train arm in arm, and he felt something stir deep inside him as she walked along at his side. She was the kind of woman one wanted to protect, to shield from all harm, and at the same time, show off, “Look, she’s mine!” It seemed unimaginable that she could survive for even an hour alone, and yet she was funny and warm, and had a stiletto-sharp mind. He felt almost like a schoolboy as they talked, ready to grovel at her feet. He was instantly infatuated with her, and he invited her back to his private car after dinner for a cup of tea. She spoke of her husband with warmth and kindness as they rolled along. And she admitted to Jeremiah that she had apparently been totally dependent on him, and she was now, finally, making the effort to get out in the world on her own, in this case to visit her two oldest children. It was quite obvious that this was her first adventure on her own, and somehow she seemed greatly amused and wondered why she hadn’t done it before. Even the minor inconveniences seemed to trouble her not at all. She was the consummate good sport, and as Jeremiah looked at her, he felt certain that she was the loveliest woman he had ever seen.

  For the first time in years, someone had managed to totally push Mary Ellen Browne from his mind. And how different they were. The one so simple and so staunch, so weathered and strong, the other more delicate, more complex, more elegant, more poised, and in her own way, probably even stronger than Mary Ellen. He was clearly drawn to them both, but it was Amelia who had his attention now. She mentioned that she had brought only a maid along, an elderly cousin had been scheduled to make the trip and had fallen ill, and Amelia had decided to go anyway. She wanted to see her girls, “and I didn’t really need another woman along. Cousin Margaret would hardly be able to take care of me.” She laughed at the thought and Jeremiah smiled at her. There was something vulnerable about the violet eyes, and he suddenly longed to hold her in his arms, but he didn’t dare. Instead they spoke of Europe and Napa, and his wines, his childhood, her children, his work. He wanted to sit and talk to her all night, but at last, after midnight, he saw her stifle a yawn. They had been together for almost eight hours, and yet he hated to walk her to her car and leave her there.

  “Will you be all right?” He seemed concerned and she smiled.

  “I believe I will.” And then, with a warmer smile, “I had a lovely time. Thank you very much.” She shook his hand and he was suddenly aware of her perfume again. He had noticed it in his private car and he noticed again when he went back. It was an exotic spicy scent with a dollop of freshness and at the same time, deeply sensual. And it was so much like her that as he noticed it lingering in his private car late that night, it was almost as though she were still there with him. And he wished she were as they rolled along endlessly.

  The night seemed to never end as Jeremiah waited for the dawn to come, thinking of the elegant woman he had met, sleeping somewhere on the train. It had been a long time since he had been that taken with anyone, and he stepped down anxiously at their first stop, hoping to see her walking along the platform in the fresh morning air, but there were only a few maids with small dogs, one or two solitary men stretching their legs, and no sign of Amelia anywhere. He went back to his private car, feeling as disappointed as a small child, and then finally, at noon, he strolled the length of the train, and discovered her reading a book and sipping a cup of tea again.

  “There you are!” He said it almost as one would to a lost child, and she looked up at him with a broad smile.

  “Have I been lost?” He loved the look in her eyes as he smiled down at her.r />
  “You have been to me. I’ve been looking for you all day.”

  “I was right here.” He was impatient to spend time with her, and he hastened her back to his private car. She didn’t hesitate as she walked back with him, and suddenly he wondered if he was creating an awkward situation for her. He was a single man after all, and one never knew who might be on the train … he so seldom thought of things like that, but he didn’t want to cause Amelia any harm.

  “Don’t be silly, Jeremiah, I’m hardly a young girl.” She pooh-poohed his concern with an elegant hand, and he noticed that she wore a remarkably pretty emerald today. He wondered that she wasn’t afraid to wear her jewels on the train, but Amelia appeared to be totally unconcerned. Her mind was filled with pleasanter things than worrying about gossip or jewel thieves, or the fears that filled other women’s minds. By the end of the second day they shared, Jeremiah was filled with admiration for her. He was almost sorry he hadn’t met her years before, and he told her so. And as he said the words, she was touched, and her eyes caressed his face.

  “What a lovely thing to say.…”

  “I meant every word. I’ve never known anyone like you before … you’ve got more spirit than anyone I know, Amelia.” His eyes were gentle on hers. “Your husband was a lucky man.”

  “I was the lucky one.” Her voice was as soft as a summer breeze, and Jeremiah held out a hand to her. They sat silently, with the countryside sliding by, looking into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world lost to them.

  “Have you never wanted to marry again?”

  She shook her head with a gentle smile. “Not really. I’m content as I am. I have the children to keep me happy and busy and fulfilled … my house … my friends.…”

  “There should be more than that.” They exchanged another long smile, and he gently touched her fingers again. She had exquisite hands, it was no wonder her husband had given her such magnificent rings. They looked well on her, as did the expensive clothes she wore. And as he looked at her he suddenly wondered what it would have been like to be married to a woman like her. It was odd to think of her in Napa though … coming home to her after working at the mines all day long.

  “What were you thinking just then?” She loved the look in his eyes, there was a world of depth there.

  “About Napa … my mines … what it would be like to have you there.…”

  She looked startled at his words, and then she smiled. “I suppose it would be an interesting life, wouldn’t it? Certainly very different from New York.” She couldn’t even begin to imagine it. “Are there Indians where you live?”

  He laughed. “Not the way you mean, but yes, some. But they’re all very tame and ordinary now.”

  “No hooting and hollering and throwing tomahawks?” She looked crushed and he laughed again as he shook his head.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “How disappointing, Jeremiah.”

  “We find other ways to have fun.”

  “Like what?”

  His Saturday nights in Calistoga instantly came to mind, but he forced himself to think of other things. “San Francisco is only seven or eight hours away.”

  “Do you spend a lot of time there?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, no. I get up at five, have breakfast at six, leave for the mine after that, and come home when the sun goes down, and sometimes long after that. I work on Saturday mornings”—he hesitated, but not for very long—“and on Sundays I tap my foot, waiting to go back to the mine.”

  “It sounds like an awfully lonely life, my friend.” She looked sad for him and it touched his heart. What difference did it make to her if he worked too hard or was alone? “Why have you never married, Jeremiah?” She seemed distressed.

  “Too busy, I guess. I almost did once, nearly twenty years ago.” He smiled at her and looked unconcerned. “Maybe it just never was in the cards for me.”

  “That’s nonsense! No one should grow old alone.” But she would too, unless she married again.

  “Is that what it’s all about, why people get married, so they won’t be alone when they’re old?”

  “Of course not. Companionship. Friendship. Love … someone to laugh with and talk to and share the aches and the sorrows with, someone to spoil and to love and to run home to, and run out into the first snow.…” She was thinking of the look in her daughter’s eyes as she said the words. She was so in love with her husband and her brand-new infant son. Amelia’s eyes rose to Jeremiah’s again. “I don’t suppose you really know what I’m talking about, but you’ve missed a great deal. My children are the greatest joy of my life. And it’s not too late for you to have that. Jeremiah, don’t be a fool. There must be a thousand women standing in line for you, grab one of them, marry her, and have a bunch of children before it’s too late. Don’t deprive yourself.…” He was amazed at the urgency of her words, and something about the way she said it touched his heart.

  “You almost make me think twice about the life I’ve led.” He smiled at her and then sat back against the dark green velvet seat. “Maybe you’ll just have to save me from myself and marry me in the next town. What do you suppose your children would say to that?”

  She laughed, but her eyes were kind as she answered him. “They’d think that I’d finally gone mad, and they’d be right for once.”

  “Would they?” His eyes held a tight grip on hers.

  “They would.”

  “Would it really be such a mad thing … you and I?…” She felt an odd chill run down her spine, there was something serious in his eyes, and she didn’t want to play with him. They were strangers on a train, and she knew herself that she was very taken with him, but she wasn’t completely out of her mind yet. She had a life to live, a house in New York, three children still at home, two grown daughters and two sons-in-law to answer to.

  “Jeremiah, don’t tease about something as serious as that.” Her voice was as soft as silk and as gentle as a kiss on a child’s cheek. “I like you too much. I want to be your friend, even after we get off the train.”

  “So do I. Marry me.” It was the craziest thing he had ever said, and would be the craziest thing he’d ever done, and he knew it too.

  “I can’t.” She felt suddenly pale and then flushed and then pale again.

  “Why not?” He was serious and that made it worse somehow. She was almost frightened by the look in his eyes.

  “For heaven’s sake, I have three children to bring up.” It was a lame excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “So what? We can take them to St. Helena. Other people bring up their children there. It’s a respectable place, in spite of the Indians.” He smiled. “We’ll build them their own school.”

  “Jeremiah! Stop!” She jumped to her feet. “Stop saying these mad things. I like you, you’re one of the most remarkable, interesting, decent men I’ve ever met. But we’ve only just met. You’re a stranger to me, and I to you, you don’t know if I drink, if I’m half mad, if I gamble, or cheat … beat my children … if I killed my husband perhaps.…” A small smile dawned in her eyes and he held a hand out to her, which she took, and brushed with her lips. “Lovely man, be kind to me, don’t tease me like this. I’ll be forty-one years old next spring, Jeremiah, I’m too old for these games. I married my husband when I was seventeen, and we were happy for eighteen years, but I’m not a young girl anymore, there are no babies left in my womb.… I’m a grandmother now.… I’m beyond doing something crazy like running away to California with you. I’d like to, it sounds like marvelous fun, but that’s right now, right here … in a few days, you’ll be in Atlanta, and I’ll be in Savannah looking at my second grandchild. We must behave, you and I, lest someone get hurt, and above all, I don’t want that someone to be you. Do you know what I wish for you? A beautiful young girl for your wife, a dozen children, and a love like the one I had for twenty years. I’ve had mine, but you haven’t had yours, and I hope you find it soon.” Her eyes
filled with tears then and she turned away. He took one step toward her and without saying anything he enfolded her in his arms, held her close, and sought her lips with his own, and she didn’t fight him at all. She kissed him with all the fervor and passion that had been pent up for so long and he did the same, and they were both breathless when they sat down again.

  “You’re a madman, Jeremiah.” But she didn’t seem to mind, and he smiled at her.

  “No. Many things but not that.” He looked deep into her eyes again. “And you’re the most spectacular woman I’ve ever met. I hope you know that. It’s not an infatuation, not a whim. In forty-three years, I’ve asked only two women to marry me. And I would marry you at the next stop this train makes, if you would. And you know what? We’d be happy for the rest of our lives. I know that as sure as I know I’m sitting here.” And the funny thing was that she suspected he was right.

  “We might be, and we might not. But I think we’d be wiser not to try.”

  “Why?”

  “Perhaps I’m not as brave as you. I’d rather have you as my friend.” But he wasn’t sure he believed that after the way she had kissed him only moments before, and to break the tension building between them again, he stood up, and went to a walnut cabinet where he had put a dozen bottles of his best wine.