the marketplace. But the last sewing project had to be turned in, the money she’d earned was now stashed away, and after several letters of correspondence, a teaching job awaited her. Amazing how much one could accomplish on her daily visits to the market.
She turned and pulled her carpetbag out from under the bed.
At sixteen, she had fulfilled her promise to her father and completed her education. Had the tutor not been ordered by the judge to come to the house for her lessons, she would never have gotten any schooling. Her uncle had been set against it. But the school had been paid, and since she couldn’t go to them, they came to her. Thank the good Lord for that.
Now was her chance to leave. Her uncle was away on business for the day, the other maid was gone, and the only one left in the house was the butler who never paid her any mind. She packed the few things she owned into her carpetbag and turned to the bureau.
She smoothed her hand over the surface of her mother’s jewelry box—she’d have to leave it behind. Anna’s mother had died giving birth to her. All she had left were her mother’s gems, given to her at the time of her father’s death, her mother’s English Bible, a few pictures, and what little money she had managed to save these past years from sewing in secret. The jewels were sewn into her bodice. It had been a tedious task, but at least thieves wouldn’t find them.
Anna stashed the fake jewelry her former nanny had given her into a small pouch, pulled the drawstring closed, and put it in her carpetbag. They might come in handy if she were to run into thieves. She’d heard too many stories about the dangers of traveling west. Grabbing her things, she hurried to the front hall.
One last look in the mirror revealed her blond braids stylishly looped, and she pinned her hat neatly in place. Her traveling dress, the only one she had time to make, suited her. Its sage color set off her green eyes, and the bustle was slight so as to provide comfort for traveling.
As she pulled her cloak on over her shoulders, she noticed a gathering of dust along the small shelf below the mirror. She smiled to herself. Never again would she have to slave for her uncle and put up with his beatings. Let him find someone else to dust and clean his house.
Carpetbag in one hand, gloves in the other, Anna van Stralen stepped outside the front door. She strode down the walkway with her chin held high. The entire world was open to her. Freedom and dreams waited to be realized.
The great frontier, her new home—Denver City.
Chapter Two
The New York Grand Central Depot swarmed with people, and after a long wait, Anna’s turn at the counter had finally come.
“One ticket to Denver City, please,” Anna said to the man behind the window.
The man pointed to a map on the wall next to him. “The Transcontinental Railroad can only get you as far as Cheyenne, in Wyoming Territory. The rails to Denver City aren’t completed yet.” He raised an eyebrow as if to question what a young lady was doing traveling alone to the Western Territories.
“Isn’t there a stagecoach from Cheyenne to Denver City?”
“Yes, but you’ll have to buy your ticket there.”
“That’ll be fine.” She had hoped the tracks from Cheyenne would have been completed by now.
“First class or second?”
“Second.”
She swallowed hard. It would take close to one third of her savings to get there, but that’s what part of the money was for, and she’d still have enough to buy some material for new dresses when she got to Denver City. All she had now was what she wore.
The less luggage the better. Besides, all she could have brought were maid’s clothes, and she wanted no memories of her old, miserable life. She handed the man behind the window her cash.
“Your last change of trains will be in Chicago,” the man said.
“Thank you.” She accepted her change.
After wading through people, soot, and noise, Anna finally made it to the hotel car on the train where a porter set her carpetbag on the board above the sofa. She turned and sat.
Through the window the conductor blew his whistle. “Aaallll aaaboooard!”
Shortly thereafter, the train lurched forward, and her stomach lurched into her throat. Once the train left the station, it moved at an alarming pace. Houses, buildings, and trees whizzed by, and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the windowsill. She’d never experienced such high speed. But her fear lessened as nothing happened, and she began to feel strangely exhilarated, like a caged bird just released, flying towards freedom, towards home.
Anna thought of the photo of her papa—the only remembrance she had left—wrapped safely in her carpetbag. Thought of his face staring back at her. Thought of his smile when they’d first arrived in America, of the sparkle in his eyes, and knew they must be sparkling now.
“Our dream will finally come true,” she whispered.
~*~
Several days later and long past Chicago, Anna sat in the dining car, watching the scenery unfold before her eyes. The landscape spread out for miles. Occasionally, she’d spot a small farm or a ranch, but most of the land was wide-open spaces with fields and rolling hills of yellow, brown, and green. She sipped her tea, noticing the empty plate before her. She hadn’t eaten this well in a long time.
“May I join you?”
A young gentleman with a black handlebar mustache stood next to her table. He smiled, put his hands behind his back, and rocked on his feet. “There are no available tables in this car, and I see you are nearly finished.”
“Oh yes, please, sit down,” she said, ashamed she hadn’t spoken sooner.
“Steven Kane.” He tipped his hat.
Anna introduced herself, then stood and prepared to gulp down the rest of her tea.
“No need to rush. Take your time, enjoy your tea.” The man sat across from her.
“Thank you.” She settled back into her seat and tried to relax. She’d never shared a table with a man before.
“And what’s your destination, if I may ask?”
“Denver City.”
“That’s where I’m going.” The man’s smile broadened. “So, you’ll be taking the stage from Julesburg.”
Puzzled, she shook her head. “No. I’ll be taking the stagecoach from Cheyenne.”
“Cheyenne? There’s nothing in Cheyenne. Why would you go that route?” He chuckled, and then his brows rose in question. “Are you meeting someone?”
She took a sip from her tea. She didn’t want him to know she wasn’t meeting anyone, and yet, what if she were about to get off at the wrong stop?
“I was told in New York that I could take a coach from Cheyenne to Denver.” She cleared her throat, trying not
