little girl in the starched frock and wavy hair in the family portrait was their daughter.
Pete had been the one to tell him that she was in a boarding school in Boston. He’d warned his son not to broach the subject with Sam. Noah never asked why. He did as he was told. He’d learned not to mess with Sam. Most of the time the outlaw oozed fun and charm, but every now and then one of his black-tempered Irish moods surfaced.
He thought about that little girl now, how happy and hopeful she’d seemed in the picture. She stood between her seated parents, both arms draped around their shoulders. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven at the time. To think she’d lost her mama at such a young age was tragedy enough for any child, but then to be abandoned by her daddy for the next decade was a double loss.
He looked at her with new eyes and a little more respect than before. She appeared to be well-mannered and intelligent. It must have taken a lot of courage on her part to make it through the last ten years alone.
Jenny finally answered, toying with her fork. “Sometimes I feel I’ve read about the West my whole life, Mr. Webster.” She sighed. “Reading was my only means of travel for many years. When I was young, though, my papa moved us frequently, all up and down the Eastern seaboard.”
She paused. “Then my mother fell ill and passed away. Papa found the means to place me at The Thompson School while he paid off some debts.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “He has had many difficulties over the years, and it is only recently he’s been able to send for me.”
He looked into those shimmering green eyes. “So you spent all those years at school. Did you ever see him at any time?”
She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “No. but he did write to me some,” she said defensively. “He thought to make his fortune out West. Papa believed there would be many opportunities for a man to take hold of there, and he knew I was safely cared for at The Thompson School.”
The look on her face told him the full story. He could see a lonely child left in a strange environment, no family to visit her and no friends to be had. He knew what it felt like to be an outsider. He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, least of all a slip of a girl.
“So you say he’s sent for you. Does that mean he’s made the most of his opportunities?”
She brightened considerably. “Oh, yes. His recent venture has paid off handsomely. He wishes for us to be together.” She laughed. “I was only too happy to leave my position and come immediately to Texas.”
“You were working?” The fact that Sam had left her alone all those years bothered Noah. He could imagine the infrequent letters sent, the empty promises and dashed hopes, but he couldn’t believe she’d had to work, too.
“Yes. I graduated with high honors from school at eighteen. My teachers said I had great promise.” She smiled sadly, and his heart wrenched. “Papa thought it best for me to remain at the school, though. The headmistress, Miss Thompson, allowed me to teach classes to the younger girls for my room and board. I’ve been doing so for over two years now.”
He tamped down the fury he felt. He’d already drawn a clear picture in his mind of her isolated life at school, a forlorn child who withdrew into her books and fantasies about a father who never came, who longed more than anything to join him, no matter what the dangers. Now he saw her even further separated—not a student—yet not quite good enough to be a salaried teacher.
If Miss Thompson were here, he would have harsh words and maybe more with her, no matter what his sainted mama had preached about how to treat a lady. In his mind, this Miss Thompson was no lady at all. He guessed her to be a cold fish who saw a chance to string Jenny along as she raked in tuition and fees at an even bigger margin of profit.
“Well, Miss McShanahan, it sounds like you and your daddy
Pete had been the one to tell him that she was in a boarding school in Boston. He’d warned his son not to broach the subject with Sam. Noah never asked why. He did as he was told. He’d learned not to mess with Sam. Most of the time the outlaw oozed fun and charm, but every now and then one of his black-tempered Irish moods surfaced.
He thought about that little girl now, how happy and hopeful she’d seemed in the picture. She stood between her seated parents, both arms draped around their shoulders. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven at the time. To think she’d lost her mama at such a young age was tragedy enough for any child, but then to be abandoned by her daddy for the next decade was a double loss.
He looked at her with new eyes and a little more respect than before. She appeared to be well-mannered and intelligent. It must have taken a lot of courage on her part to make it through the last ten years alone.
Jenny finally answered, toying with her fork. “Sometimes I feel I’ve read about the West my whole life, Mr. Webster.” She sighed. “Reading was my only means of travel for many years. When I was young, though, my papa moved us frequently, all up and down the Eastern seaboard.”
She paused. “Then my mother fell ill and passed away. Papa found the means to place me at The Thompson School while he paid off some debts.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “He has had many difficulties over the years, and it is only recently he’s been able to send for me.”
He looked into those shimmering green eyes. “So you spent all those years at school. Did you ever see him at any time?”
She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “No. but he did write to me some,” she said defensively. “He thought to make his fortune out West. Papa believed there would be many opportunities for a man to take hold of there, and he knew I was safely cared for at The Thompson School.”
The look on her face told him the full story. He could see a lonely child left in a strange environment, no family to visit her and no friends to be had. He knew what it felt like to be an outsider. He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, least of all a slip of a girl.
“So you say he’s sent for you. Does that mean he’s made the most of his opportunities?”
She brightened considerably. “Oh, yes. His recent venture has paid off handsomely. He wishes for us to be together.” She laughed. “I was only too happy to leave my position and come immediately to Texas.”
“You were working?” The fact that Sam had left her alone all those years bothered Noah. He could imagine the infrequent letters sent, the empty promises and dashed hopes, but he couldn’t believe she’d had to work, too.
“Yes. I graduated with high honors from school at eighteen. My teachers said I had great promise.” She smiled sadly, and his heart wrenched. “Papa thought it best for me to remain at the school, though. The headmistress, Miss Thompson, allowed me to teach classes to the younger girls for my room and board. I’ve been doing so for over two years now.”
He tamped down the fury he felt. He’d already drawn a clear picture in his mind of her isolated life at school, a forlorn child who withdrew into her books and fantasies about a father who never came, who longed more than anything to join him, no matter what the dangers. Now he saw her even further separated—not a student—yet not quite good enough to be a salaried teacher.
If Miss Thompson were here, he would have harsh words and maybe more with her, no matter what his sainted mama had preached about how to treat a lady. In his mind, this Miss Thompson was no lady at all. He guessed her to be a cold fish who saw a chance to string Jenny along as she raked in tuition and fees at an even bigger margin of profit.
“Well, Miss McShanahan, it sounds like you and your daddy
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