Read Online Destiny - The Callahans #1 by Gordon Ryan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gordon Ryan
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Utah. Always Utah.
Thoughts of Katrina flooded his mind while he
worked, and it became an obsession to find a way to move in that
direction. Though his job was sufficient to pay for his abysmal
accommodations and meager food, his wages were not enough.
Something else would have to be found in order to obtain funds to
move west.
The hardest part was the loneliness he felt
each night as he lay on his mattress on the floor, listening to the
myriad sounds emanating from his rooming house. The photograph of
Katrina was becoming tattered from constant review, and even the
Book of Mormon, especially the early parts about the two brothers,
was dog-eared. Lying there in the dark, he struggled to picture her
lovely face and he recalled again and again the kiss she had given
him. He remembered her mannerisms, especially the earnest look she
would get on her face while struggling to explain her newfound
religion. The images were sweet to contemplate, but also a kind of
torture.
He was frequently overcome by fear—that his
chances of actually making it to Utah were minimal and the
likelihood of her waiting to marry were even less. Still, rather
than abating, his determination grew stronger. He would get to
Utah.
Eight hundred miles to the west, on the far
side of Chicago, the train pulled out slowly, gathering speed as
the Hansens settled in after a full week and a half of resting,
bathing in Lake Michigan, and obtaining sleep lost during the
previous several days traveling from New York. Lars Hansen and his
family had stopped in Chicago to visit with relatives who had
immigrated several years earlier, and to explore the prospects for
his business ventures in Utah. A furniture maker by trade, Lars had
arranged with the Chicago branch of his family to obtain necessary
materials and to ship additional orders and specialized cabinetry
that would be needed to establish his new business in Salt Lake
City.
Katrina and her sisters had used the time to
refresh themselves and to purchase some new American clothes. Her
mind was filled with constant thoughts of Thomas and how, or
perhaps if, he would indeed come for her. In a way, the promise she
made to him on the Antioch was thrilling, but there were
times when she panicked thinking of actually being married to a man
she had only briefly known. It didn’t help that her father had such
strong views on the topic. She’d heard him express his pleasure to
her mother that they had finally gotten the Irish lout out of
Katrina’s life and that as soon as they got to Utah she’d find some
suitable Mormon boy from a proper family and settle down. “Ya,
Momma, it is time,” Mr. Hansen had said to his wife, “she’s coming
to be a woman.”
The train trip west proved mind numbing. For
a time, the scenery west of Chicago was green and lush and the rail
line frequently ran through small communities. Then, the number of
towns thinned out, and the landscape became more open, dry, and
dusty. Advised that they were approaching the Mississippi River,
which she had learned about in world geography, Katrina brightened
some, but in the main, each clickity-clack of the train wheels only
served to reinforce the image of the miles opening up between
herself and young Thomas Callahan, the handsome Irishman who
continued to permeate her thoughts and dreams.
As June stretched into July, Tom found the
stifling New York heat almost unbearable. He had taken to stopping
at a reasonable facsimile of an Irish pub on his way home from an
evening job he had located as a night janitor for the New York
Transit Authority. Cleaning horse-drawn trolleys at night, after
spending ten hours at the produce market, wasn’t the most enjoyable
thing Tom had ever done, but it did provide another seventeen
dollars and fifty cents a week to add to his growing savings. He
had accumulated slightly over a hundred and twenty dollars, much of
it acquired from one-time odd jobs. Tom had found he wasn’t afraid
of work. Thinking
Thoughts of Katrina flooded his mind while he
worked, and it became an obsession to find a way to move in that
direction. Though his job was sufficient to pay for his abysmal
accommodations and meager food, his wages were not enough.
Something else would have to be found in order to obtain funds to
move west.
The hardest part was the loneliness he felt
each night as he lay on his mattress on the floor, listening to the
myriad sounds emanating from his rooming house. The photograph of
Katrina was becoming tattered from constant review, and even the
Book of Mormon, especially the early parts about the two brothers,
was dog-eared. Lying there in the dark, he struggled to picture her
lovely face and he recalled again and again the kiss she had given
him. He remembered her mannerisms, especially the earnest look she
would get on her face while struggling to explain her newfound
religion. The images were sweet to contemplate, but also a kind of
torture.
He was frequently overcome by fear—that his
chances of actually making it to Utah were minimal and the
likelihood of her waiting to marry were even less. Still, rather
than abating, his determination grew stronger. He would get to
Utah.
Eight hundred miles to the west, on the far
side of Chicago, the train pulled out slowly, gathering speed as
the Hansens settled in after a full week and a half of resting,
bathing in Lake Michigan, and obtaining sleep lost during the
previous several days traveling from New York. Lars Hansen and his
family had stopped in Chicago to visit with relatives who had
immigrated several years earlier, and to explore the prospects for
his business ventures in Utah. A furniture maker by trade, Lars had
arranged with the Chicago branch of his family to obtain necessary
materials and to ship additional orders and specialized cabinetry
that would be needed to establish his new business in Salt Lake
City.
Katrina and her sisters had used the time to
refresh themselves and to purchase some new American clothes. Her
mind was filled with constant thoughts of Thomas and how, or
perhaps if, he would indeed come for her. In a way, the promise she
made to him on the Antioch was thrilling, but there were
times when she panicked thinking of actually being married to a man
she had only briefly known. It didn’t help that her father had such
strong views on the topic. She’d heard him express his pleasure to
her mother that they had finally gotten the Irish lout out of
Katrina’s life and that as soon as they got to Utah she’d find some
suitable Mormon boy from a proper family and settle down. “Ya,
Momma, it is time,” Mr. Hansen had said to his wife, “she’s coming
to be a woman.”
The train trip west proved mind numbing. For
a time, the scenery west of Chicago was green and lush and the rail
line frequently ran through small communities. Then, the number of
towns thinned out, and the landscape became more open, dry, and
dusty. Advised that they were approaching the Mississippi River,
which she had learned about in world geography, Katrina brightened
some, but in the main, each clickity-clack of the train wheels only
served to reinforce the image of the miles opening up between
herself and young Thomas Callahan, the handsome Irishman who
continued to permeate her thoughts and dreams.
As June stretched into July, Tom found the
stifling New York heat almost unbearable. He had taken to stopping
at a reasonable facsimile of an Irish pub on his way home from an
evening job he had located as a night janitor for the New York
Transit Authority. Cleaning horse-drawn trolleys at night, after
spending ten hours at the produce market, wasn’t the most enjoyable
thing Tom had ever done, but it did provide another seventeen
dollars and fifty cents a week to add to his growing savings. He
had accumulated slightly over a hundred and twenty dollars, much of
it acquired from one-time odd jobs. Tom had found he wasn’t afraid
of work. Thinking
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