Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(8)

Marty took her little lunch bag with her and spread out a noonday meal of sandwiches and cool drink with tarts and cookies for dessert. Marty herself wasn't much interested, but Clark was. It appeared that the traveling was not adversely affecting his appetite.

All too soon the stage was ready to move on again. They left the coolness of the trees and took their places on the hot, dusty leather seats. The minutes of the afternoon were ticked off by the grinding and bumping of the wheels and the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves. Occasionally, a hoot or shout from the driver would call some new order to the teams.

In spite of herself, Marty found her head nodding. The heat, the inactivity, and the fact that she had been missing some of her sleep all helped to make her drowsy. But it was hard to sleep comfortably in the jostling wagon; as soon as she would begin to slip into relaxing slumber, another bump or shake would snap her awake. It was worse than no sleep at all. She shifted her position and fought to remain awake.

A change of teams at another stagecoach station broke up the monotony of the afternoon. Marty's back and legs ached, and she was thankful for the stretch. She thought of Missie's long journey west by wagon train and more fully appreciated their courage through the discomfort of it all.

It was almost suppertime when the stagecoach pulled into the city station. Marty leaned forward to eagerly see all that she could as they traveled the busy, crowded streets, then checked herself. She was not acting like a lady, and she settled back against the seat and allowed only her eyes to peer out of the shallow window.

After alighting, Marty walked around, flexing her muscles and observing all of the strange sights and sounds, as Clark collected their belongings and made the proper arrangements for everything to be on the morning's train west. All they took with them now were two cases and Marty's hatbox. Marty felt



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a bit panicky as she watched all of their luggage being carted away. Was the man truly dependable? Would he be sure to put them on the right train? Would everything arrive safely? Was it all properly labeled? What would they ever do if it did not make it?

But Clark seemed to have no such fears. Seemingly relieved and confident that he had all things cared for, he took her arm.

"Well, Mrs. Davis," he teased, "here we are in the big city. What shall we be doin' with it?"

"Doin'?" asked Marty blankly.

"Well, they say thet a big city is full of all manner of excitin' an' forbidden things. Ya be wishin' to go lookin' fer some of 'em?"

Marty looked shocked.

"Me?"

Clark laughed at her literal interpretation. "No, not you. An' not me either. I'm jest funnin' ya. I have heard thet they have some very good eatin' places, though. I could sure use me some good food. Somethin' about sandwiches thet don't stay with a man fer long. Ya interested?"

"I reckon," replied Marty, though in secret she found herself far more interested in what the people would be wearing than in what they ate.

"Well, let's jest find us a hotel room to git settled an' leave our belongin's, an' then we'll see what we be a-findin'."

They found a hotel quickly enough. It was the biggest one Marty had ever seen. She looked around her at the high, ornate ceiling, the glistening hanging lights, and the elaborately paneled doors. This must cost nigh on to a fortune, she thought, but she did not voice her opinion to Clark.

Clark was handed a key to a room and given a few instructions, and then he took Marty's arm and they began to climb the stairs--many of them. Marty did not count them as they climbed. She was much too busy studying the attractive paper on the walls and the colorful carpeting beneath their feet. At length, Clark stopped before a door and used the key. He pushed the door open and then stood to the side to allow



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Marty to enter. The room before them was the most elegant Marty had ever seen. She looked about her, studying carefully every detail. She wanted to be able to describe everything in the room to her daughters.

The wallpaper was a richly patterned blue and the draperies were deep blue velvet with thick fringes. The bedspread, heavy and brocaded, had a cream background with some blue threads interwoven. The ornate chest appeared to have been hand-carved, and there was a special stool or small table on which one rested his cases. The imported carpet was a riot of rich purples, crimsons, blues, and golds, all blended together in an attractive overall pattern. Marty took it all in and then turned to Clark.

"My," she said, then again, "My, I never be a-knowin' thet all of this grandness be possible."

"I jest hope thet this 'grandness' has a comfortable bed," he responded, crossing over to the bed and testing it for softness. "I'm a-thinkin' thet before mornin' I'll likely be pinin' fer the 'grandness' of my own four-poster."

Marty, too, felt the bed. "Feels fine to me," she stated, "though I'm admittin' to feelin' so tired thet a plank floor might even be welcome."

Clark laughed. "Before ya settle fer thet plank floor, let's go see what this here town has to offer an empty stomach." And, so saying, he attempted to lead her from the room.

"Whoa now," argued Marty. "Iffen I'm gonna dine out like a fine lady, I'm gonna need to freshen up first. Goodness sakes, the stage was so hot an' dusty one feels in fair need of a bath an' hairwash."