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  Looking for Love

  Barbara Goss

  Copyright All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All scripture is quoted from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2017 Barbara Goss

  All Rights Reserved

  Kindle Edition

  Cover design by: Samantha Fury

  This book is dedicated to faithful readers: Kathie Hamilton and Nancy Cowan.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  THE END

  Chapter 1

  Sister Mary Francis sat seemingly looking for a paper in the stack on her desk. Having been called into the office, Fiona worried the sisters had found out that she’d been reading after ten by the light of the moon streaming through her bedroom window.

  “Fiona Sullivan,” the sister began, “now that you’re eighteen, you must leave here, I’m afraid.”

  Leave? Where would she go? She’d lived at the orphanage practically her whole life. She knew her face must have reflected her fear, for the sister continued quickly, “It’s nothing to worry about. We try to place our ‘graduates’ into jobs, if we can. I think you’ll like where I’m going to place you.” The nun smiled as if trying to relieve Fiona’s fear. “I’ve found you a job as a maid in a very prestigious neighborhood.”

  “Maid?” Fiona repeated, still trying to get her thoughts around leaving the only home she’d ever known.

  “Yes,” Sister Mary Francis said. “A couple by the name of Littlefield has agreed to give you a job, as well as room and board. The pay will be a dollar a week, which is very reasonable, seeing as how you’ll also be given a place to live and meals.”

  Fiona’s head was spinning. A whole dollar a week! She’d practically be rich. To make that much without having to pay rent or buy food was very appealing.

  “Your duties would be to assist in any household chore assigned to you, and sometimes helping Mrs. Littlefield dress and care for her clothing. You will be responsible for the laundering, as well as the cleaning,” the nun said. “I’ve written the address down on paper for you.” She handed the slip of paper to Fiona.

  “When do I start?”

  The nun opened the office door and held it open for Fiona. “First thing in the morning.”

  Fiona liked Mary Littlefield, a pretty woman in her mid-to-late thirties. Chester Littlefield was a stout man with a mustache. Going by appearances only, Fiona thought Mrs. Littlefield might have married him for his money, since she was so lovely and he so…so portly, somewhat older, and evidently rich. The couple had no children.

  As the job progressed, Fiona found she actually enjoyed the work, since Mrs. Littlefield treated her with kindness and consideration. All the other servants adored Mary as well. After having worked there for a week, Fiona had decided she’d do anything for Mary Littlefield.

  As for Chester, she didn’t like the way he eyed her. He was either sizing her up for a coffin or to become his next mistress—the other servants whispered about Chester having mistresses he was said to visit regularly. They said Mrs. Littlefield was either oblivious or simply didn’t appear to care, and being fond of her, Fiona began to immensely dislike Mr. Littlefield, and she stayed out of his way as much as possible.

  Fiona managed to save almost all of her pay, since her uniforms were supplied, and she only needed to buy personal items and a dress or two for church on Sunday.

  After working for the Littlefields for several weeks, she was saddened when Mrs. Littlefield was called away. A telegram came for her one day, and she broke down crying. When Fiona tried to console the woman, Mary had confided to her that her mother was ill and possibly dying, and she’d have to travel all the way to New York City to be with her family.

  After Mrs. Littlefield had left, she feared Chester would dismiss her, but he didn’t. She tried hard to avoid him so he wouldn’t notice she didn’t have as many duties now that his wife was gone. Most days, he went to his office at the shipyard, and nights, he probably visited one of his mistresses.

  Fiona went about stripping the beds one sunny day, hoping to wash them and let them dry outdoors. She already had the rooms on the second floor finished, as Mary’s bed hadn’t been slept in since the last time she’d laundered. She was in the process of collecting all the sheets from the third floor and stripping her own bed of its sheets, when she jumped, having realized someone was behind her. She turned to see Chester standing there, and staring at her from the doorway. She’d thought he’d gone to the shipyard, as was his daily habit. What could he possibly want on the servants’ floor? She nervously grabbed her bedding and moved toward the door, expecting him to move aside so she could exit the room.

  “Fiona, wasn’t it?” he said, staring at her from head to toe.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’m on my way to the laundry room. Was there something you needed, sir?”

  “Well, now, what’s your hurry?” he said. “I’ve yet to get to know you.”

  “I’d really like to get these washed and hung while the sun’s out so they’ll dry—”

  He grabbed her wrists, interrupting her sentence. “Please! Mr. Littlefield, I don’t—”

  He laughed fiendishly. “I want to get to know you better—much better.”

  “No!” she yelled. “I’ll scream!”

  He laughed again. “No one will come to your aid and risk losing their job.” He reached out and fondled her chest.

  Fiona cringed; no one had ever touched her so personally before, and she shook with fear, not knowing what to do next.

  He pushed her down onto her mattress, and unbuttoned his britches, and lifted her skirt. That’s when she panicked. She knew what he meant to do, so she looked around frantically for something with which to fight him off. She felt about the bed wildly until her hand came across her chamber pot. She wriggled closer to the edge of the mattress in order to reach it. Unfortunately, Chester thought her wriggling was in response to his aggressive behavior, and he closed his eyes and groaned, giving Fiona the courage to do what she knew she must.

  She reached her arm out as far as she could and connected with the pot. As Chester’s hand crept up her leg from under her skirt, he panted and in words she’d never heard before, he told her what he planned to do to her next.

  Fiona raised the pot as high as she could with her right hand and brought it down on his head as hard as she could. He rolled off of her and onto his back, but he was still trying to grab her. As he cursed her, she swung the pot again. This time, since she was sitting up and using two hands, she was able to put more muscle into it, and he rolled off the bed, holding his head, and moaning in pain. Fiona was afraid he’d get up and be even angrier with her, so she hit him again, with the pot in both hands, and then again, before dropping the pot. Blood streamed from his head, pooling near the dented pot, and he lay still. That was
when it dawned on her that she’d killed him.

  Fiona grabbed most of her belongings, stuffed them in a small valise, and fled the house as fast as she could.

  Fiona ran, not knowing where she was headed. When she finally stopped to catch her breath, she looked behind her to be sure no one had followed. She leaned against a light post. What had she done? She’d just murdered a man! She had to get as far away as she could. She walked toward the business section of town in the hopes of finding a train depot. She'd have to leave town before someone discovered what she’d done.

  Chapter 2

  Fiona boarded the train, surveying the car before choosing a safe place to sit. She was a bit overwhelmed, this being her first trip anywhere, and to be alone only intensified her unease. She spotted a woman about her age sitting alone and she slipped into the seat beside her.

  “Is this seat taken?” Fiona asked.

  “Sort of,” the woman said.

  Fiona jumped up. “So sorry—”

  “No, it’s all right. Sit. I’m saving it for someone who hasn’t boarded yet. He’ll be boarding in Chicago.” The woman smiled warmly, “You can sit there until then. I’d love the company.”

  “Thank you.” Fiona sat down again. “Where are you and this man headed, if I might ask?”

  “Topeka, Kansas. William’s going to be a barber there,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m Jane Riley.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jane. I’m Fiona Sullivan.”

  “What’s your destination, Fiona?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I just needed to get away and decided to go west since I was as far east as I could get in Boston. I just wanted to get away from the city,” Fiona said, while crossing her fingers beneath the folds of her dress.

  She hated lying to this nice woman, but how could she tell her she was running away because she'd murdered her employer? Thinking about what had happened again made her inwardly shiver.

  “That’s interesting. So you have no destination at all in mind?” Jane asked.

  “No. I’m going as far as my money will take me.”

  Jane seemed to ponder her remark and then asked, “What about your family? I’m surprised they’d allow you to just take off like that.”

  “I don’t have any family. My parents and siblings died during a smallpox epidemic when I was six. I lived in an orphanage, and when the orphans reach the age of eighteen, they’re pretty much on their own,” Fiona said.

  “How about you? How did you come to be meeting a friend in Chicago?”

  Jane smiled as if recalling a sweet memory. “His name is William Swanson, and it’s a long story. I’ll probably share it with you, since we’ll be traveling together for a few days,” Jane said. “I’m glad to have a companion, at least as far as Chicago.”

  “Is he your fiancé?” Fiona asked.

  “Yes, sort of.” Jane reached into a sack she had on her lap. “Would you care to split a sandwich with me?”

  “I’d love to!” Fiona answered. “I’m starving.”

  “I have an extra apple, too, and we can buy more food at the next rest stop,” Jane said, handing her the sandwich half.

  By the end of the day, the two women were laughing and enjoying one another’s company.

  The day before they were to arrive in Chicago, Jane and Fiona were sharing a wedge of cheese when Jane said, “I’m ready to tell you why I’m going to Chicago.”

  “I know you said it was to meet your fiancé, and then you’d travel together to Topeka,” Fiona said between bites of the cheese.

  “How would you like a destination?” Jane asked. “I mean a place to go and belong.”

  “Sure, I would. Who wouldn’t in my place?”

  Jane reached into her reticule and pulled out an envelope. “This is a letter from Samuel Jordan, my intended in Hays, Kansas.”

  “But I thought—”

  Jane silenced Fiona by placing her finger on her lips. “Here’s the story: William and I are both from Cambridge, and we fell in love, but my family refused to allow me to marry him. Years before, his father and my father got into a fight over who would win my mother’s hand, and they had an old fashioned duel. His father got the first shot off and hit my father in the chest, and he nearly died. He still often has trouble breathing to this day because of it. He ended up winning my mother, though, since she felt sympathy over his being injured for her.

  “I love William. He moved to Chicago recently because he had the opportunity to apprentice with a barber, and he’s to open his own shop in Topeka, where he has an aunt and uncle.

  “We arranged by mail to meet in Chicago, but I needed an excuse to travel westward. My parents would never have let me go if they knew it was to marry William, so I looked into becoming a mail order bride. In fact, Samuel paid my train fare.”

  “I get it,” Fiona said, “but what about poor Samuel?”

  “That’s where you come in. I was just going to ignore him and leave him waiting for me at the train depot, but when I met you, I had a better idea: why don’t you go there in my place?”

  “He’d know I wasn’t you, since we have different names,” Fiona argued.

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Jane said with a frown. “Maybe you could explain that Jane is your middle name or something.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.” Fiona felt disappointment surge through her.

  “Well, you can take this letter anyway, just in case you end up needing it.” Jane handed the envelope to Fiona.

  When they reached Chicago, Fiona got to meet William before they boarded a train heading south. Jane was a pretty woman with sandy-colored hair and a lovely smile. She had brown eyes and a muscular build, for a woman. William was tall with a long face that sported a goatee and thin mustache.

  Fiona watched as Jane and William greeted each other. She could tell they were deeply in love. How she wished for someone to look at her like that someday.

  Jane and William seemed so happy and completely engrossed with each other that Fiona felt a bit left out, so she sat in a seat across the aisle from them and read a book someone had left on the train. The book, Pride and Prejudice, was so good that she lost track of time.

  After she’d finished reading, she laid her head back on the seat and wondered what Jane’s Sam would do when she didn’t show up. The poor man had spent time writing to her and had even sent her ticket, and then she didn't have the courtesy to show up or even notify him. Fiona felt sorry for the man. Jane should have at least sent him a telegram or something.

  The next time she spoke to Jane alone was at the rest stop in St. Louis, Missouri, where they had thirty minutes rest before catching a westbound train to Topeka and beyond. William had gone to the outhouse, and Jane sat with Fiona, sipping lemonade.

  “Jane,” Fiona began, “why don’t you send Sam a telegram and tell him you aren’t coming. It would be the thoughtful thing to do.”

  “Because I don’t have the money to repay him for the ticket. Besides, I rather like the idea of sending you there instead,” Jane said.

  “I might just stop at Hays and let him know,” Fiona said.

  Jane patted Fiona’s shoulder. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

  “I could always hop onto another train after giving him the message.” Fiona said.

  It wasn’t long after St. Louis that they reached Topeka, and Fiona hugged Jane goodbye. She felt lonely after watching them walk away. Fiona’s train continued west, and she made a spur of the moment decision when the conductor announced, “Next stop, Hays!”

  Hays was a small town with just one street of businesses, and the train depot, which sat on a hill, overlooking the main road. She set her small valise down and wondered where she might begin looking for Sam Jordan, when a man’s voice hailed her from behind.

  “Jane?”

  “Sam?” she asked, spinning around. She scolded herself for asking, but who else could it be?<
br />
  “I’ve been meeting every train coming in from the east all week.”

  Fiona was so tempted to say that she was Jane, but did she really want to add lying to her already guilty conscience? It really didn’t matter if he knew her real name, since she wouldn’t be staying long.

  “I’m not Jane, but she gave me a message to give to you—”

  “What?” Sam said, cutting her off. “Or was that your plan all along, that if you didn’t like my looks, you’d pretend you weren’t Jane, right?”

  “Your looks are fine, Sam. I’m really not Jane. It’s a long story.”

  She watched the play of confusion on Sam’s face. “We wrote letters for months…are you certain?”

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “I met Jane on the train, and since I had no place to go in particular, she asked me to stop at Hays and give you the message that she decided to stay in Topeka.”

  “Sorry,” Sam muttered. “Well, I guess the marriage is off, then.”

  Fiona had expected him to be disappointed or even angry, after investing so much time writing to her, and paying for her tickets, but he seemed unfazed with it all.

  He even smiled at her as he said, “I appreciate your kindness in letting me know.”

  “I thought you should know,” Fiona said. “I’ll just take the next train west, maybe I’ll get as far as Denver.”

  “You have no final destination?” Sam took her arm. “There’s not another train going west until tomorrow morning.”

  Fiona hated to pay for a hotel room, and as she glanced at the shabby hotel, she cringed.

  “You’re welcome to stay with my family. I live with my mother and brother on a cattle ranch not far from here.”

  Fiona shrugged. “All right, but I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  Sam put Fiona onto the bench of his farm wagon and rode out of town about a mile before turning onto a rutted lane leading to a two-story farmhouse with a barn, stable, and several other, smaller buildings.