Golden Chances (Jordan-Alexander Family 1)

Moments later, Faith pulled away from the window. Temperance was a tiny speck in the distance, almost completely obscured by the thick black smoke billowing from the stack on the engine. She turned back to the room.

She was alone with her new husband.

She panicked. “What did you do with Joy?”

“I murdered her and threw her tiny body off the train while you were waving goodbye to your aunt.” He shrugged tiredly. “What do you think I did with her? She wanted to see her bedroom.” He opened the door.

Faith inched closer to him and peeked inside. Joy sat in the middle of the child-sized bed. She had shed her traveling coat, gloves, and bonnet. They were scattered across a pink rug in a path from the door to the bed. Joy looked up from her doll and waved to Faith. “Look, Faith! Weese said it was my very own room on the train and he brought all my dolls and my table and chairs and everything. See?”

Joy’s enthusiastic grin was infectious. Faith smiled in spite of herself. She had forgotten the pleasure of having her own room. Before the war, she had taken it for granted. After the war, necessity had demanded she forget it.

She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Joy. Faith took one small foot in her hand and began to untie Joy’s shoelaces. When she finished, she untied Joy’s other shoe and removed them both, leaving Joy in thick wool stockings. “We don’t want to ruin the pretty pink bedspread with dirty, old shoes, do we, sweetie?”

Joy shook her head. “My room is pretty, isn’t it Faith?”

Faith glanced around the room, noting the paneling stenciled with pink dolls, the miniature chest, the table and chairs, toys and books. She looked toward the doorway. Her eyes met Reese’s. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever seen.”

His shoulders seemed to widen before Faith’s eyes.

“Honest?” Joy’s gray eyes were huge. “Prettier than yours before the war?”

“Cross my heart.” Faith did just that.

Joy scooted closer and hugged Faith tightly. “Oh, thank you, Faith.” She bounded off the bed, ran to Reese, and clasped him around the knees. “Oh, thank you, Weese!”

Reese gently ruffled her hair with his hand, but his eyes were focused on Faith. “You’re welcome, sprite.”

Joy returned to her bed, her attention on her dolls.

Faith stood up and walked toward the man in the doorway. “Yes, thank you, Reese.”

“She had to have a room.” He shrugged off her thanks. He didn’t want her gratitude.

“What was it before you had it turned into a little girl’s dream?”

“My office.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. “I can work just as easily out here.” He closed the door to Joy’s room and motioned toward the living area.

Faith looked at the sitting room, studying the details for the first time.

It was a large room

, wood paneled in a light oak. Woven carpets covered the floors, but instead of the usual patterns found in Turkey rugs, these rugs were a bright orange color, decorated with stylized designs. A large Duncan Phyfe desk and matching chair occupied one corner of the room. A leather sofa and two leather wing chairs were grouped around a big cast-iron stove. Several low tables of oak and pine were scattered about holding books, lamps, and carved figures of animals. The walls were hung with paintings, mostly landscapes, and a grouping of pastel sketches and pen-and-ink drawings. A large, detailed map of the Western territories hung behind his desk. Faith moved closer to get a better look at one of the pen-and-ink drawings.

It was an ink drawing of what appeared to be a huge, flat, rock rising out of the ground. It towered over the line of trees at its base. But the most amazing feature of the drawing was the attention to detail. Faith could see that the sides of the rock were grooved, fluted, like Doric columns. Faith had never seen anything like it.

“The white men call it Devil’s Tower.” Reese had moved to stand beside her. “The Sioux call it Grizzly Bear’s Lodge because the grooves look like the marks made by giant bears attempting to climb to the top.”

Faith laughed softly. “I think I prefer the Sioux name. Have you ever seen it?”

Reese nodded. “It’s in the northeastern part of the territory.”

“Wyoming?”

“Yes.”

“How fascinating! Will we live close enough to see it?” She traced the ridges with the tip of her fingernail.