Read Online Indiana Belle (American Journey Book 3) by John A. Heldt - Free Book Online
Authors: John A. Heldt
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you're headed to Chicago?" Cameron asked.
"Yes," Alice said.
"Do they know you're planning to do the things you 'can't do in Cedar Rapids'?"
"No. They think we're visiting Flo's aunt."
"So you're renegades?"
"No," Flo said. "We're Presbyterians."
Alice and Winnie laughed.
"It appears you're comedians as well," Cameron said.
Alice, the closest to the aisle, put her hand to her chin and studied the mystery man.
"I've seen you before," she said.
"I don't think so," Cameron replied.
"Are you sure?"
Cameron nodded.
"I'm positive. If there is one thing I'm sure of, it's that."
Alice sighed.
"You look just like a guy at school."
"What school is that?" Cameron asked.
"Iowa," Alice said. "We're students there."
"So are you ladies looking for a respite from college?"
"No. We're looking for trouble."
Cameron laughed.
"That's right," he said. "I'm sorry."
"There is no need to apologize," Alice said. She smiled. "You're just forgetful."
"I guess I—"
Cameron paused when a porter worked his way up the aisle and notified passengers that the dining car was serving lunch. He wanted to resume the conversation a moment later, when the porter left the car, but he did not get the chance. Alice, Flo, and Winnie got out of their seats.
"Are you getting lunch?" Cameron asked.
Alice nodded.
"None of us have eaten today. Why don't you join us?"
"I probably shouldn't."
"I think you should," Alice said.
"I don't know."
Alice raised a brow.
"We could make you."
Flo and Winnie giggled.
Cameron chuckled and shook his head.
"All right. I'll come. Save me a seat. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"OK," Alice said. She stared at him. "Don't renege."
"I won't."
Cameron smiled as the women exited the coach. He wasn't hungry or even eager to leave his seat, but he wasn't about to cross these three. Only an idiot would scorn a trio of flappers.
He lifted his satchel from the floor, popped it open, and dropped the sepia photo of his favorite flapper inside. After a moment of reflection, he closed the bag, gazed one last time at the gray Iowa landscape, and pondered the days and weeks ahead.
He did not know what awaited him in Indiana. He did not know what he would do when he got there. All he knew on the afternoon of March 14, 1925, is that he would not allow someone else, even his benefactor, to determine his course.
Cameron would examine all his options, weigh them carefully, and pick one that made sense. If that upset Geoffrey Bell, then so be it. He would assess the situation and go with the flow. He would do what he had to do, do it with conviction, and let his conscience be his guide.
CHAPTER 10: CAMERON
Evansville, Indiana – Monday, March 16, 1925
The first thing Cameron noticed when he stepped out of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Depot was that Evansville, Indiana, was not Los Angeles or Chicago. It was not even the Evansville he remembered visiting in January 2017. It was a smaller, grayer, quieter community that seemed as far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Roaring Twenties as the many isolated farms he had seen on the train trip east.
With his satchel in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Cameron headed south on Fulton Avenue to Riverside Avenue, a picturesque street that hugged a bend in the Ohio River. Shaped like a U, the bend was a geographic curiosity, a conspicuous curve in the 350-mile-long moat that protected the Hoosier State from the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
As he walked toward the center of town, Cameron became increasingly conscious of his status as a stranger in a strange land. Though he looked like many of the dapper men he passed on the sidewalk, he felt out of place. He wondered how long it would be before he said or did something that drew unwanted attention.
Despite these and other concerns, he remained calm and focused. He had done his homework on Evansville, even before leaving Los Angeles, and knew it was only a matter of time before he blended in
"Yes," Alice said.
"Do they know you're planning to do the things you 'can't do in Cedar Rapids'?"
"No. They think we're visiting Flo's aunt."
"So you're renegades?"
"No," Flo said. "We're Presbyterians."
Alice and Winnie laughed.
"It appears you're comedians as well," Cameron said.
Alice, the closest to the aisle, put her hand to her chin and studied the mystery man.
"I've seen you before," she said.
"I don't think so," Cameron replied.
"Are you sure?"
Cameron nodded.
"I'm positive. If there is one thing I'm sure of, it's that."
Alice sighed.
"You look just like a guy at school."
"What school is that?" Cameron asked.
"Iowa," Alice said. "We're students there."
"So are you ladies looking for a respite from college?"
"No. We're looking for trouble."
Cameron laughed.
"That's right," he said. "I'm sorry."
"There is no need to apologize," Alice said. She smiled. "You're just forgetful."
"I guess I—"
Cameron paused when a porter worked his way up the aisle and notified passengers that the dining car was serving lunch. He wanted to resume the conversation a moment later, when the porter left the car, but he did not get the chance. Alice, Flo, and Winnie got out of their seats.
"Are you getting lunch?" Cameron asked.
Alice nodded.
"None of us have eaten today. Why don't you join us?"
"I probably shouldn't."
"I think you should," Alice said.
"I don't know."
Alice raised a brow.
"We could make you."
Flo and Winnie giggled.
Cameron chuckled and shook his head.
"All right. I'll come. Save me a seat. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"OK," Alice said. She stared at him. "Don't renege."
"I won't."
Cameron smiled as the women exited the coach. He wasn't hungry or even eager to leave his seat, but he wasn't about to cross these three. Only an idiot would scorn a trio of flappers.
He lifted his satchel from the floor, popped it open, and dropped the sepia photo of his favorite flapper inside. After a moment of reflection, he closed the bag, gazed one last time at the gray Iowa landscape, and pondered the days and weeks ahead.
He did not know what awaited him in Indiana. He did not know what he would do when he got there. All he knew on the afternoon of March 14, 1925, is that he would not allow someone else, even his benefactor, to determine his course.
Cameron would examine all his options, weigh them carefully, and pick one that made sense. If that upset Geoffrey Bell, then so be it. He would assess the situation and go with the flow. He would do what he had to do, do it with conviction, and let his conscience be his guide.
CHAPTER 10: CAMERON
Evansville, Indiana – Monday, March 16, 1925
The first thing Cameron noticed when he stepped out of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Depot was that Evansville, Indiana, was not Los Angeles or Chicago. It was not even the Evansville he remembered visiting in January 2017. It was a smaller, grayer, quieter community that seemed as far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Roaring Twenties as the many isolated farms he had seen on the train trip east.
With his satchel in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Cameron headed south on Fulton Avenue to Riverside Avenue, a picturesque street that hugged a bend in the Ohio River. Shaped like a U, the bend was a geographic curiosity, a conspicuous curve in the 350-mile-long moat that protected the Hoosier State from the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
As he walked toward the center of town, Cameron became increasingly conscious of his status as a stranger in a strange land. Though he looked like many of the dapper men he passed on the sidewalk, he felt out of place. He wondered how long it would be before he said or did something that drew unwanted attention.
Despite these and other concerns, he remained calm and focused. He had done his homework on Evansville, even before leaving Los Angeles, and knew it was only a matter of time before he blended in
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