Jeffery greeted her, standing at attention, with flowers in his hands. “Tilda, I’ve come to apologize.”
She glanced around the room. He’d rented the master bedroom suite.
“The entire car is ours,” he explained. “We have the car to ourselves all the way to California for our honeymoon, if you agree.”
“You made it clear—”
He cut her off. “I’m not saying this right. I didn’t know what else to do. Tilda, I’m sorry. I love you. I want you to be my wife.”
Tears glistened in her wonderful green eyes. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He came up beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She stiffened but did not pull away. “I’ve been out late every night,” he whispered against her ear, “because I was planning our wedding trip. The night I came home and snapped at you I had just lost another client—one of several. It seems that letting them know I was taking this trip shook their confidence in my ability to manage their investments. I was angry—not at you, but them. Please, Tilda. Please forgive me. I want us to become man and wife.”
She sniffled. He kissed the top of her head.
“I’ve rented this entire car for our trip out to California, or any place you would like to go. I will change the tickets. I don’t care. I only want to be with you. You’ve shaken up my life, Tilda, and I’m a better man for it. Please say you’ll be my wife and travel this country with me.”
She pulled away enough to wipe her eyes with a dainty white handkerchief.
He stepped back a bit as well to better read the expression on her face. “Please tell me I’m not too late.” He searched the green pools of her eyes for any sign of interest.
She looked down at her ticket. “California?”
“Yes. I’m guessing you have not been there. I know I haven’t. And, well, you brought up some interesting points about California investments, and I thought—”
“You’re going to be working?”
“Well, yes… No, not really.”
She marched to the window and held her sides.
He came up beside her and reached out for her. “Tilda, my sweet.”
She lowered her shoulder and slipped out of his embrace. “You’re working. I don’t understand. Just a moment ago you tell me you want to take a marriage trip, but in the very next breath you tell me this is another excuse to build your business. It’s always work for you, isn’t it?”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply. “You have no idea how to do anything butwork, do you?” He felt himself wilt inside as she started to pace, her eyes riveted on his.
“A woman wants more. I understand the place for hard work, for a man to provide for his household. I understand we are all under Adam’s curse from the Garden of Eden, that the man would have to toil and labor for his survival. But this preoccupation, this—”
She was all together beautiful when she was riled, and suddenly he knew why. She was not an angry woman, a tinderbox ignited by the slightest spark of irritation. Tilda was passionate—passionate about life, about right and wrong, about what was good and just and fair.
She turned and faced him.
“What?”
The whistle blew. The train started to move.
“Great, now I can’t get off!” She found an overstuffed armchair and sat down.
“Tilda, let me convince you.”
She held up her hand to him and shook her head.
Jeffery sucked in a breath and held it. He could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against his vest. He took off his suit coat and hung it on the specially designed rack. He removed his cufflinks and plopped them on top of the dresser, then rolled up his sleeves.
He turned and was startled by a look of fear written all over her face. She glanced at the bed then back to him. “After all these days of unconsummated marriage, you want to…” She gestured toward the bed.
“I would like to, of course. But I would never force myself upon you, Tilda. I am an honorable man. Perhaps ignorant in the ways of love, but I am honorable.”
She relaxed.
“I rented the entire car for privacy. We are alone. No one will disturb us. The porters will come with our meals when we order them, or we can join others in the dining car. It is up to you. If you wish, I shall stay in one of the other staterooms. I will not pressure you. If nothing else remains between us, you should at least know that about me.”
She nodded.
“Good. Now with regard to my business in California, I thought we could take a look at some of the companies my clients might wish to invest in. Also, I received the final papers on your father’s estate. He still has holdings in California, albeit not of much value, according to his records. But wouldn’t it be nice to check out this business of your father’s that has shown such poor returns on his investment?”
“You have all my parents’ paperwork?”
“Your father’s, yes. It appears your mother’s earnings from some of her paintings have not come in yet. I thought we could finish our trip in New York and take care of all your family assets. I’m also hoping that your mother’s work is not all gone. I would very much like to see some of her artwork.”
Tilda smiled.
“I also thought we could use our many free days on this trip to discuss our hopes and plans for the future. We had begun discussing the matter of children before Mr. Murphy so crudely came to my—correction, to our door.”
Tilda shook her head no. “I’m not certain I can open my heart again.”
Jeffery’s heart stopped. Tears pooled in his eyes, and he turned away. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and polite, and exited to the hallway to leave her alone in theirroom. His body shuddered, wave upon wave, as a lifetime of self-control cracked and gave way. The restrained tears now streamed down his face. He’d ruined it. He’d hurt her so badly she could not recover.
He pulled out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and headed to the private living and dining areas at the front of the car. He plopped down on the plush sofa. Only Tilda could make him do something so foolish as to put off his customers for a month and spend a ton of money on private accommodations. He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. Dear God, please help me. I don’t think I can recover from this.
Tilda wanted to jump up and run after Jeffery. But she found herself unable to move, stunned by the fact that he’d rented the entire car, stunned that he’d planned a long wedding trip without consulting her. That, perhaps, was a little less unbelievable since he’d done the same with regard to purchasing the house before her arrival. The first thing she had noticed about Jeffery Oliver was his talent as a planner. It was a part of who he was. If—and she did mean if—she agreed to continue in their marriage, he would need to change. She needed to be a part of the decision-making for the household.
She looked around the lavish bedroom. Pullman spared no expense in his private cars, of which this was one. From the mahogany woodwork to the stuffed, silk-covered chairs and fine lace curtains—all testified to the highest standards of quality a society could produce and those with means could afford. Yet it wasn’t gaudy. The large, ornately crafted bed filled much of the room, but still allowed plenty of room for a private toilet, a couple of chairs, and comfortable space to walk around two sides of the bed.
The bed. Tilda sighed. She’d been wanting Jeffery to join her in their marriage bed, but he’d wanted to wait. Now he was ready, and she wasn’t. She shook her head. Father God, help me understand what is going on.
There was a knock at the door. “Tilda, the porter is here with our dinner.”
“I’ll join you in a minute.”
The gentle rock of the train as it rolled down the rails lulled her to a place of calmness. She took in a deep breath, stood up, and exited the master suite. She turned to her left and walked toward the front of the train.
The next room took her breath away. She entered a private living area decked out with a sofa, a couple of chairs, and a reading lamp on a small, decorative table. The walls were lined with books, knickknacks—all the comforts of home.
Jeffery leaned against the doorway. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, quite.”
He stood tall. “Come, sit with me in the dining room.”
He reached out his hand. She didn’t take it. She wanted to, but she had to protect her heart. His hand swung down to his side. With his left hand outstretched, he ushered her to the dining area. Again, the room was decorated with the best of modern furnishings. The tables, as well as the chairs, were made of polished cherry.
Jeffery pulled out a chair for her.
She tucked the back of her dress toward her legs and sat down. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my sweet.”
A smile curled on her lips. Perhaps her heart was already giving into this man onceagain. He sat down and held out his hand. “Shall we pray?”
She placed her hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around hers, his touch so gentle and warm. “Father,” he prayed, “we ask for Your guidance and thank You for Your provisions. Be with us as we begin this journey. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen.”
“Amen,” Tilda said and gently pulled her hand away. She grabbed the silver fork and knife expertly set beside her plate filled with roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans. “It smells good.”
“I have it on good authority that this railroad serves quality meals.” Jeffery dug into his dinner. “It is good,” he said a moment later, “but your gravy is better.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He nodded and continued with his meal. When he had polished off half of his plate he glanced up at her. “Tilda, I know I’ve made a mess of our marriage. Is there anything I can do to fix it? Anything at all?”
She put down her fork. “Before I answer that, tell me: did your father make all the decisions in your house?”
Jeffery shrugged. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Oh no, I did it again, didn’t I?”
She nodded, unable to speak due to a lump in her throat that had nothing to do with the dinner.
“I’m sorry, Tilda. I meant this trip as a surprise, and if I hadn’t gotten so upset with my clients I would have told you about my plans.” He paused. “Well, maybe not. I was planning this as a surprise. A man isn’t supposed to tell his spouse about a surprise, is he?”
“I suppose not. But since I was heading home to New York, don’t you think you should have talked with me before I arrived on the train?”
He knitted his eyebrows together. “How? You wouldn’t speak with me. I tried every night, but you refused to talk. When do you think I should have told you?”
Tilda clamped down on her jaw. “Perhaps you have a point there.” She placed her silverware down and folded her hands in her lap. “You hurt me. I want to love you Jeffery, I really do but—”
“It will take a week before we’re out to California. We have time.” He reached over and took her hand. “Tilda, I love you. Give me the week to prove it. We have all day to spend with one another. I won’t be running off to the office. I won’t even wire my office until I’m in California, and then simply to let Max know that we’ve arrived. Is that fair?”
Her words caught in her throat again, and she nodded.
He leaned back in his chair, relieved. “So, why don’t you tell me about Paris? I have never been. In fact, today is the first time I ever left Savannah.”
Tilda sat back. “You’ve never left Savannah?”
“Never. Another sign that I love you. I never had a reason to leave the city. It was home, all I ever knew or cared to know. You, my sweet, have changed me in so many ways. Now I am curious about the places you have been, the places I once read about in books. My grandfather was right about me. To be fair, you should know I was ordered by my grandfather— before my thirtieth birthday —to marry. If I did not, my inheritance would go to charity. Even back then Grandpa felt I was too focused on work rather thanlife. He also knew I would have a hard time giving up my inheritance, even if I didn’t need it.”
Tilda laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I didn’t tell you about my inheritance because I wanted a man to marry me for love, not for money.”
Jeffery laughed. “I see your point. It is true, I did marry you for that purpose. However, the reason I did not come home with you the night we married was because I was afraid of you. You were so beautiful, so… alive! Marriage had been a task to accomplish until then, a goal to achieve. Meeting you that very first time changed all of that. You changed me. I knew I needed to respect you, not simply make you my wife and move on to other tasks. I hope that makes sense to you, because I don’t believe I can explain it better than that. I have no education on how to speak with a woman, much less on how to speak to my bride. But if you’re willing to allow me to make mistakes and forgive me, I will work with everything I have to get it right. I wish my words would never hurt you, Tilda. But I’d be a fool to believe otherwise. I promise you this, however: I will never hurt you intentionally.”
Tilda picked up the water glass and twirled it between her fingers for a moment. “After years of marriage, my parents still managed to hurt and offend one another from time to time. I believe that is a part of love and marriage.”
“You are probably right, though I wish it were not so.”
They talked for hours before settling down for the night. He kissed her at the doorway to the master suite before heading to a guest bedroom, and though he had not planned on it, she kissed him in return. A flicker of hope ignited in the pit of his stomach, and he prayed the flame would not go out.
The next morning, he rose in time for breakfast. He went to the dining area and found her in her morning clothes. “You look fetching this morning, my sweet. May I kiss you?”
“Hmm,” she teased. “I suppose a little kiss would be acceptable.”
He swooped her into his arms and kissed her with the passion he’d been wanting to show her for weeks, if he had only been honest with himself.
“My, my, Mr. Oliver! Where did that come from?”
“From you, from the hope that we might possibly become one.”
She laced her fingers through his. “I’d like that.”
He leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the lips. “I would like that, too, Mrs. Oliver,” he said with a playful wink.
Her smile seemed to brighten the room. More than that, it unlocked another chamber in his heart. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, Mrs. Oliver?”
“My parents.”
“No one else?”
“Well there was this one young man in Paris…” She smiled.
He groaned. “I don’t know that I want to hear this.”
“Perhaps not, but it was very serious. I was six and he was seven.”
Jeffery doubled over in laughter. “Oh my, life with you is going to be interesting, Mrs. Oliver.”
“You have no idea.”
“No, I don’t, but I’m looking forward to it.” He lifted the cover off his breakfast plate. “Where’s my bacon?”
“Sorry, I ate it,” she confessed.
“That will never do, Mrs. Oliver. A man needs his bacon.”
Tilda’s giggle tickled his ears. So much had changed since the day he’d waited for her at the railway station. “I love you, Tilda.”
“I love you, too, Jeffery. And I will stay married with you, if you still want me.”
“Goodness, Tilda, there is no question. I’d be a fool to not want the most enchanting, challenging woman on this planet. I love you.”
Tilda’s smile evoked the same from him.
“Will you sleep in the same room as me?” she asked. “I don’t think I could handle separate bedrooms.”
Jeffery leaned back. “Ah.” He wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. “I spoke to my father about that. It seems my mother could not abide his snoring. Which, to be truthful, I found difficult to tolerate at times, and my room was down the hall from his. To this day they spend time alone with one another each night until he is ready for sleep. Then he goes to his own room.”
Tilda smiled. “Do you snore, Mr. Oliver?”
“I don’t believe so, Mrs. Oliver.”
“Good.”
“How would you like to spend our day?” he asked.
A delicate pink rose on her cheeks. “With you.”
He jumped up, swooped her in his arms, and twirled her around. “I have great affection for the railroad.” He carried her toward the master suite.
“Pardon?”
“The railroad brought me the love of my life, and we recognized our love for one another while riding the rails. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”
“Ah, love on the rails. I like that.”
He kissed her lips. “Grandpa was right, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“ ‘Whoso findeth a wife,’ ” he quoted from Proverbs, “ ‘findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.’ ”He pulled the pocket watch out and flipped it open for her to see. “This is what he was trying to teach me. Now I understand. I love you, Tilda.”
“I love you, too.”