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Valley Glen, Indiana,
1880
Carrie Ackerman could not find her sister.
"Have you seen Sarah this morning?" she asked her eldest brother, Tom, after knocking on his door and opening it a crack so she might peek in.
Tom said nothing, pretending he was still asleep. He had been doing that ever since his accident. The doctor continued to insist that he would walk again, that it would only take a bit of time, but Tom's mood expressed the opinion that he did not believe a word the doctor said.
Carrie sighed and went into his room. Their other brother, Henry, was already out in the field. He was younger than Tom by five years, but since the plow had overturned and sliced Tom's leg open, Henry had taken on all of Tom's chores. The field was the most important. Her family was counting on their crop this season to bring in enough money to pay off their debts.
Carrie was the only one not fooled by that. The bank would not wait for their crop to come in. They had already extended as much time as they cared to. There was nothing more to be done. Within weeks, she, her infant niece, and her four siblings would be turned out of the home they had built for themselves. Banished from the land their parents had owned long before the fire took their lives.
She kicked at the foot of Tom's bed. He groaned.
"What?" he asked, irritated.
"Have you seen Sarah this morning?" she repeated, ignoring his tone. Tom was always irritated these days.
"No," Tom said and rolled over.
She wished Tom would take after Sarah a bit more. Sarah had been injured in the same accident, saving both Tom's life and Carrie's own, yet she did not sulk. She had pushed forward. Carrie still had a difficult time looking at her eldest sister, knowing that it was largely because of her that Sarah's arm was now lame. Sarah's attempts to ease Carrie's conscience on the matter had failed.
If not for Sarah, the blade of the plow would surely have sliced Carrie's head clean off. The doctor said that Sarah would never regain the use of her arm. The blade had sliced it too deeply, severing her nerves. She could move it and her fingers, but just barely. Sarah was just grateful it had not taken her arm off completely but Carrie knew better. Sarah was already twenty-six and without a husband. What man would want her now? She feared her eldest sister would forever remain a maid.
Carrie sighed and left Tom to himself. Harriet was still sleeping in the room she shared with her sisters. The dawn light had barely risen. Issie, Harriet's daughter, lay asleep in the crib that Henry had made for her. Henry was especially fond of his twin sister's child, who was not even a year old. He had already made her a plethora of wooden toy sets that she could not yet use. They all felt protective of the babe that would never know her father. Smallpox was a terrible thing.
Harriet and Henry were the middle siblings. Harriet had taken over most of Sarah's chores after the accident, despite having a new child to care for. Carrie was the only one who had not done more. She had tried to help her family, offering to watch Issie for Harriet whenever she was in the kitchen. She had even made an attempt at helping Henry in the field, but it had not gone well. She had made several mistakes and put him behind a day's work. He had told her to stay in the house after that.
Knowing how much her siblings had sacrificed compared to herself had eaten away at Carrie until she had finally come to a decision. Their neighbor's daughter had become a mail order bride. It had been scandalous at the time but had since worked out for the girl. Carrie had sorted through several ads for brides until she'd found the one she wanted. A rich man. A banker. He was willing to pay a large amount for the contract. She had readily agreed and had only three days left before she was to leave Valley Glen forever.
It was unfortunate that Sarah had discovered her plans last night. Their argument was still fresh in Carrie’s mind. It made her head ache but there was nothing Sarah could do. The bride token from the banker was the only way to save their farm.
Carrie slipped quietly back into the room she shared with her sisters and put on her boots before going out to the field. Perhaps Henry had seen Sarah. Streaks of daylight were finally beginning to light in the sky. She laced up her boots and noticed a slip of tri-folded paper lying upon the floor. It must have fallen from the dresser. Her name was scrawled across it.
She bent to retrieve it, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Dearest Sister,
Please forgive me. I cannot let you marry a man you do not know. The bride token money will save our land, but as the eldest, it is my sacrifice to make, not yours. Considering my limitations, you are more useful on the farm than me. Please explain to Tom and the others. I shall send word when I arrive in Helena. If all goes well, I shall be Mrs. John Bowman by the end of the week.
Your Loving Sister,
Sarah Ackerman
"Oh!" Carrie cried, so angry that she crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it against the wall. "Oh!"
Harriet's head rose from the bed.
"Carrie?" she mumbled, still groggy. "What's wrong?"
"That sister of ours! She tries me like no one else!"
Carrie opened the dresser she shared with both Sarah and Harriet. The letters she'd exchanged with John Bowman were gone, as was the train ticket he'd sent her.
"She cannot do this!" Carrie cried. "That is my ticket! It does not even leave for days yet."
"What ticket?" Harriet asked, more alert now. "What are you talking about?" She pushed her bed covers back and stretched. Issie made a small mewing noise from her crib, and Carrie felt instantly guilty for waking her. There was no squelching her anger, though.
"Carrie, whatever is the matter with you?" Harriet asked, opening the shutters and going to her child. She lifted Issie into her arms and began to rock her. "Your face has gone all red."
"Sarah has gone too far," Carrie explained, taking hold of her bonnet and setting it on her head. "She has taken my ticket."
Harriet looked at her sister without comprehension. Carrie knew she was not making sense. Harriet had no idea of her intentions to marry or her plans to leave Valley Glen.
"I shall not let her get away with this."
"Get away with what? Do clarify yourself, for right now you are making my head dizzy."
Fortunately, Issie selected that moment to do as infants do, and Harriet had to quickly clean her mess. Carrie hurried from their room before Harriet could finish and question her further.
The train station was bustling when Carrie arrived. She walked along the platform, attempting to see inside all the windows on the train. She was certain Sarah was sitting behind one of them. John Bowman had sent a first-class ticket.
She ran right into a conductor who was patrolling the platform. "Beg your pardon," Carrie quickly said. "Do you know if Sarah Ackerman is on this train?"
The conductor smiled indulgently. "There are many people on this train, miss. I should be quite fortunate if I had memory enough for all their names."
Carrie smiled politely back at him. "Yes, of course. What I mean is..." She thought hard, biting her lower lip. "If I had a ticket for a train leaving three days from now, might I be able to exchange it for one leaving today?"
"You might," the conductor said. "I believe we had one woman earlier today who did that very thing. You want to inquire at the—"
"What do you mean?" Carrie squealed. "Do you mean to say that anyone can just exchange a ticket anytime they please?"
The conductor blinked at her, uncertainty on his face. "Miss, I'm not—"
"Do you not question people upon these matters? Why might anyone wish to exchange a ticket like that? What if it is not their ticket to exchange?" Her hands were set firmly on her hips and she leaned toward the conductor, who shrank away from her.
"If there is a problem, miss," he attempted to say, "then you might wish to take it up with—"
"I want to take it up with you!" Carrie said, going a bit too far and poking her finger toward the conductor's chest.
The train whistle suddenly blew and the conductor looked relieved. "All boarding!" he called, turning away from Carrie. He hurried toward one of the entrances and Carrie watched him climb on. Her eyes lit upon a window. Behind it was a form she knew well.
"Sarah!" she yelled.
The woman was clearly trying to hide. She shrank into her seat, her head turned away, but Carrie would have known that profile anywhere.
"Sarah!" she called again.
The train began to stir. Steamed poured out from its engines. Carrie attempted to get on board. The conductor she had been yelling at stopped her.
"Do you have a ticket, miss?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. He held out his hand for it. Carrie frowned. "Well, no. It's not on my person. I... my sister has it."
"I see. And where is your sister?"
The steam whistle blew, making Carrie jump.
"She is on the train, sir. I saw her just now, sitting by a window."
"And she has your ticket?"
"Yes. Well, no. You see, she must have used my ticket for herself. I assume it is gone now."
"I understand," the conductor said, looking relieved, "but without a ticket, I'm afraid I can't let you on board."
"That is ridiculous. It is my ticket."
"Last call!" the conductor yelled, ignoring her.
"Sir, you don't understand."
"Sorry, miss. If you find your ticket later, you might still trade it in. Check with the ticketing window." He shut Carrie out as the wheels began to churn. She stepped back and watched the train pull away.
"She shall not get away with this," Carrie muttered to herself. "She cannot steal my plan and my ticket all in one day. I shall find her and put a stop to this."
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