Light Changes Everything by Nancy E. Turner

Author:Nancy E. Turner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I sat at the depot waiting for the train, shivering in my shawl, imagining that it was probably hotter than Hades back home. My belly was round enough that I could feel it pressing my clothes, now, although no one had guessed. What was I going to tell my mama? It had seemed like the right thing, to just carry on, go on to school, keep quiet, to protect everyone from what had happened. Seemed the only person I couldn’t protect was myself. I should have written a note and explained. Run away. Married Nation Hollingsworth. Only I hadn’t. Here I was at the depot waiting for a train that was three hours late. Maybe I wouldn’t tell anyone. Maybe I could still make it to Albuquerque.

At last, some boy who’d been listening to the tracks with his head laid on them hollered, “Here she comes!” and I settled my hat at a nicer angle and waited.

Soon as I saw Ma and Aunt Sarah, all three of us said as one, “What is the matter?”

Ma grabbed me to her and said, “You look so worried, honey.”

“I am, Ma.” Both the women looked haggard and gaunt, as well. Aunt Sarah had her arm through Ma’s elbow, and we went to wait for their bag—a single valise shared between them—so we could make sure it got right back on the train to head home. The outbound southern was due to leave in only forty-five minutes.

“Train was slowed up by the weather a hundred miles south of here,” Sarah said. The look in her eyes scared me more than any snow.

“How is everyone at home?” I asked.

“Not until we’re on board,” Ma said. “Do we just get back on the same train?”

“No, ma’am,” I said. “It’ll be headed to Chicago and then New York. Other side of the depot is where the southbound goes out. The switchman will make sure it comes up next to the platform.”

Ma stared at me. “You seem like you’ve grown five years older in such a short time. Not my little girl anymore. Well, no longer a child, at least.”

I clung to her as close as I could, allowing that we could both walk, wishing she’d see there was still some little girl left in me. “It’s only that I’ve learned to get along here,” I said.

It took some trouble to get my trunks loaded. The second, a new one, was entirely camera equipment. I had decided to invest in a good trunk to carry it all, since it was to be my livelihood. I had four boxes of Eastman’s dry plates to take home. Large jugs of chemicals and mixing and rinsing pans. I also had a carpetbag and three hatboxes, two valises, and a small reticule stuffed into a large one. At last we sat on a pair of facing benches. Aunt Sarah leaned forward to take my hands. Just as she did, another woman came and looked as if she might want to sit with us.

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