me.
Chapter 1
Boston, October 1905
Light drizzle tapped her umbrella as Sarah Callaghan Ashbury strolled through the wooded path in the park. As a child, Sarah loved walking in this part of town. It was her favorite place to spend time alone with her thoughts and dreams. And it was where she used to write poems and stories.
As a chilled, late October breeze caressed her cheeks, thoughts of her beloved Nick invaded her head. His absence had left its mark since the day he’d embarked on a train six months ago.
Nick, my love,
she whispered, hoping he somehow heard her despite the distance separating them. Does he miss me too?
It wasn’t the first time her husband had left her. A week after arriving home from the Yukon, Nick had left for an expedition to South America. Sarah then discovered she was with child for the second time. Nick had returned home at once. This time, six months had already passed. Her heart ached. Some days the pain proved unbearable. Sarah thanked her lucky stars for her children. They kept her company and busy. Yet, at night, alone in her bed, her husband’s pillow remained cold.
Around her, oak and elm trees prepared for the winter months ahead. Hues of oranges, yellows, and reds brought some color to her drab surroundings. Memories surfaced of her years in the Yukon; of the winters spent in that remote part of the world with Nick and their children. With a reluctant heart, Sarah had left the Yukon. Nick had told her it was time, stating that she missed her brother, and the children would need a proper education.
Seven years had passed since she and Nicholas had traveled to the Klondike in search of gold in order to pay off her father’s debts. Thank the heavens they’d found enough. But the dug up riches didn’t begin to compare to the love they have found together.
Her lips curled upward with the memory of the first moment they’d met. She’d felt love-struck when she’d laid eyes upon him. Yet she’d ignored the murmurs of her heart until circumstances put the two of them in a situation which they could not—did not—want to escape. She had no regrets in their life as husband and wife. He had brought her happiness, love, and two children. Her twins, Archie and Gertie, had brought her pride and joy from the moment they were born. Both resembled their father, even though Nick always argued they looked more like her. Her brother Andrew said they looked like them both.
Her dear brother’s presence helped her cope with her husband’s absence. Despite his duties toward his loving wife Elsie, his baby son Timothy, and taking care of the family newspaper, Andrew cared for her. They lived under the same roof in the family home they managed to keep after almost losing it to creditors eight years ago. Sarah didn’t want to impose on her brother, but Andrew and his wife insisted they stay with them. He assured her that the house was as much hers as it was his, and that it was quite big enough for everyone.
When they’d returned to Boston, Nick had wanted to work for the Boston Museum. His passion for archeological digs called to him once more. When the museum offered him an expedition to South America, he’d spoken with Sarah before accepting.
I can stay with you if you want me to,
Nick had said before leaving.
Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she’d replied, Go, my love. The children and I will miss you. Come back home soon.
No matter how much she wanted her husband home, she couldn’t stop him. She loved him too much and understood her miscarriage took its toll on him too.
Six long months had passed since the morning her beloved husband had left, and loneliness remained in her heart. Unanswered questions roamed her mind. Sarah received one letter from him every month, but his last had never come. She knew with the long distance correspondence took a while to arrive, yet she wondered when she would received another one. Soon, she hoped. She worried about him. Nightmares kept her awake, and bouts of insomnia plagued her.
Taking a deep, soothing breath, Sarah sat on a brass park bench, surrounded by peace and quiet. The rain had ceased, and thick gray clouds made way for warm autumn sunrays. She closed her eyes and prayed her husband would return soon.
Mistress Sarah,
Mrs. Thompson, her friend and childhood nanny, called out in a frenzy from afar.
Panic filled Sarah’s gut when she saw the old woman’s pale face. What’s the matter?
she dared asking.
Mrs. Thompson took a breath when she handed Sarah an envelope. A telegram arrived for you.
Sarah’s knees trembled and weakened. Her stomach knotted. Sitting back down on the bench, she sent all her prayers to Nick. Please God, not my husband.
Inhaling a lungful of air, Sarah hoped courage stayed with her. With shaky hands, she unfolded the piece of paper.
Mrs. Ashbury. Stop. We are saddened to announce the passing of your Great Aunt Katarina Voronova. Stop. Upon her death, she had requested your presence at her estate in St. Petersburg as soon as it is possible for you. Stop. Please accept our sincerest sympathies. Stop. Kindest regards. Stop. Anton Pushkin, Solicitor. Stop.
A mixture of sadness and relief washed over her. Unshed tears stung her eyes. Glancing at the sky, she thanked God the telegram wasn’t about Nick. Yet the loss of her dear Auntie Katarina hit her.
What is it, dear?
Mrs. Thompson sat beside her and took her hand. Is it Master Nick?
Sarah shook her head.
Phew! Thank the Lord.
Yes. Indeed.
Sarah wiped away a tear from her cheek.
Mrs. Thompson laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Who sent you the telegram?
My great aunt’s solicitor in Russia.
Your mother’s aunt, Katarina?
Sarah nodded. Her solicitor wants me to go there.
Why?
Sarah folded the telegram and stared at an invisible spot on the horizon. Auntie Katarina has passed away, and I think she has given me her country estate.
Why else would she have received such an invitation? The news of her passing had not yet sunken in. Sarah did her best to try and make sense of her loss.
What are you going to do, dear?
Mrs. Thompson asked.
I’m not sure. Russia is so far away.
You were close with Katarina. Maybe you should go and see why her solicitor has requested your presence at the estate. Do you really think she has given you her big house in Russia?
Sarah shrugged a shoulder and rubbed her brow. I’m not sure. We did write each other often. And I loved her. I remember a doll she gave me during her first visit here. I think I still have it in a box somewhere in my room.
The memory of the Russian porcelain doll with long auburn hair and emerald eyes came to mind. Her auntie had told her it reminded her of Sarah. And she had sewn a dress for Sarah and a similar one for the doll. Memories of days spent playing with her favorite toy brought a wistful smile to her lips. Now, her great aunt was gone, and Sarah had no idea why else her last wish was to summon her only niece, since they barely knew each other.
As Sarah walked back home in silence with Mrs. Thompson in tow, she wished Nick were there. She wanted him to accompany her on this long trip. Russia was far away. And she needed Nick with her.
She let out a low groan. She wished he had never accepted the museum’s offer. If he hadn’t, they would be together at this moment, and she wouldn’t be longing for him. The loneliness took its toll. They had never spent more than a few days away from each other while in the Yukon.
How have I survived all this time without him? She shook her head. You’re a big girl, the voice in her head reminded her. Besides, she had plenty to occupy her time.
Her new book, recounting her time spent in the Klondike, had been published in the spring. Everyone could now enjoy her adventures with Nick. Her publicist, Mr. Morgan, took care of promotion while she appeared in various bookstores around town.
With a smile, she remembered her life with Nick. She knew she could never have asked him to stay in town for her. She loved him too much. When they’d arrived in the summer, Nick had done his best to occupy his time. Yet Sarah had noticed that the sparkle in his peridot eyes didn’t shine as much. The poor dear did put on his bravest of smiles for her and their children. Only the call of adventure to faraway places and the search for ancient artifacts would satisfy him.
The night before he had left, he’d kissed her fingers and asked that she wait for his return. She’d whispered that of course she would while holding back her tears. Words had stuck in her throat, asking him to stay.
Some days she wanted to scream at him: why must you leave me and the children? And other days, she penned words on paper, begging him to return home, but she never sent the letters. In silence, she prayed for him and his speedy return home.
How about some tea, dear?
Mrs. Thompson asked as they walked into the house.
Sarah nodded. Sounds lovely. Thank you.
I’ll be right back.
Sarah removed her hat and coat before walking into the parlor where she stared out the window. All her thoughts went to her husband. Please come home soon,
she whispered.
Here. Drink this.
Mrs. Thompson handed her a cup of steaming Earl Grey tea, her favorite.
Thank you.
She tried a smile.
Through the high parlor window, Sarah noticed the drizzle had turned into heavy rain. Soon, snow would come. In the Yukon, the first snowfall had certainly already arrived. For no amount of money would Sarah ever trade the winters spent in the Klondike with Nick. Never in a million years would she give up her life with him. He had given her the twins and a life filled with joy, happiness, and adventure. The thought of losing him made her shudder and shook her to her very core. She reminded her heart he was safe and protected.
Since the moment they had met, their paths were meant to cross for a long and glorious journey together. And the journey to Russia was one she wanted to share with him. Yet she knew he would never arrive home in time for her departure. She chewed her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Time wasn’t on her side. Auntie Katarina’s solicitor needed an answer—soon.
Hey, sis. Mrs. Thompson told me you received a telegram from Russia.
Sarah looked at her brother. I don’t know what to do, Andrew.
He stood before her and took her hand. You’re a brave girl. You love adventure as much as your husband.
She heard the harsh tone in his voice when he didn’t mention Nick’s name. He should be here with you and the children. Not off in some Godforsaken country.
I couldn’t have asked him to stay.
Andrew lifted her chin. It’s his duty to stay at your side.
Her heart sank. Tears stung her eyes. What should I do?
Go to Russia. See what Katarina’s last wishes are for you.
Andrew’s words gave her courage and strength.
* * * *
Hues of pinks and oranges kissed the early morning sky. Nick stared at the horizon, sending his thoughts and love to his darling Sarah. His heart and body longed for her, for her touch, for her sweet kisses. Another week and he’d return home, fulfilling his obligations to the Boston Museum.
Some days, he wished he’d never accepted the museum’s offer, though they’d made such a tempting contract. No matter what, he could not refuse the chance to discover new artifacts in the Peruvian jungle. An opportunity like the one offered to him would never come again. Yet his heart was torn into a million pieces. The distance took him away from his family. Every day he awoke with regret and guilt and with his children and wife in his thoughts.
Sarah, my darling,
he whispered against the warm breeze carrying the scent of smoke and flowers. Will you ever forgive me for leaving?
His eyes closed. There, in his mind’s eye, he saw his wife’s pretty face smiling as she did every time she looked at him. Seven years had passed since the day they’d met in Boston. At the Martins’ party he couldn’t resist dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room. Since then, Sarah held his heart. Every day he thanked his lucky stars for her presence in his life. Their love had blossomed into the greatest thing he had ever known. Sarah had also given him two children who brought him such great joy.
With each passing day, Nick had managed to keep busy with the archeological dig site. The artifacts they found brought their share of excitement, but he wished that Sarah and his children were by his side to share the moments.
Nick blew out a breath and raked his fingers through his growing hair. He needed a haircut. But he could only see a barber in the city since there were no barbershops in these parts. No matter for now, all that mattered was returning to his wife and children. Soon. He counted the days until he reunited with his family.
Closing his eyes again, he saw his darling Sarah and his twins. For an instant, he swore he could feel them in his arms. When he looked around from his tree house, only the thick forest and the nearby dig site surrounded him. He filled his lungs with fresh, warm air, and pushed aside the overwhelming loneliness.
Mr. Ashbury,
Cirino’s familiar voice called out from below. "A telegram for you, señor."
Taking a step back, Nick waited for his young, native friend and helper to climb the winding, wooden stairway. When he faced Nick, Cirino handed him the telegram.
Thank you,
Nick said, pulling some coins out of his pocket and giving them to Cirino.
The young man removed his red chullo from his raven hair and bowed his head, stepping back while Nick looked at the telegram from Boston.
Sarah,
he murmured. His heart pumped hard with excitement as he opened it.
My dearest husband. Stop. I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. Stop. How I miss you, Nick. Stop. A few days ago, I received a telegram from Russia about the passing of my Great Aunt Katarina. Stop. Her solicitor wants me there in a month’s time. Stop. After great reflection, I have decided to accept the invitation, and I will be leaving as soon as I can arrange it. Stop.
Panic invaded Nick. Sarah was leaving for a foreign country and he couldn’t accompany her. Dammit! Would Andrew or Mrs. Thompson go with her? He hoped so. Nick knew Sarah could fend off any threat. Still, he wished she wouldn’t travel all that way without him.
All he could do now was join her in Russia. The idea sparked and ignited within him. His current expedition had reached its end. He decided leaving a few days short of his contract wouldn’t hurt. Nick walked into his tree house and opened his trunk, hastily throwing his belongings inside.
"Where are you going, señor?" Cirino asked.
Nick stopped. Home. My wife needs me.
I will help you pack.
Thank you, Cirino,
Nick said, patting his friend’s arm.
Gathering every item in his trunk, Nick realized how much he would miss this home-away-from-home. But Sarah needed him more than the museum. His true home was with her. In silence, he prayed she would stop along her voyage long enough to wait for him. After he arrived in the nearest town, he would send a telegram, letting Andrew and Mrs. Thompson know he was on his way.
Giving one last glance to his living area for the past month, Nick patted Cirino’s shoulder. Let’s get on with this show.
Outside, the hot, humid air smacked him in the face as he climbed into the buggy. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t miss the Peruvian climate. After spending so many years in the Yukon, he preferred crisp, mountain air. During his years in the Yukon range, he had gotten accustomed to the northern environment. His wife had made their stay more enjoyable. He would live anywhere in the world as long as Sarah was at his side. A breath stuck in his throat. He missed his darling Sarah.
Before seeing her again, he had a long road ahead of him. The journey toward North America alone would be strenuous. But he was used to traveling to faraway lands. A few good books and some interesting meetings along the way would make the trip more bearable. Pulling out a crumpled photograph from his pocket, Nick stared at Sarah’s face—the one he loved with all his heart, the one belonging to his angel on earth.
"We will get you home soon, señor." Cirino’s voice broke through his reverie.
But will I get to Sarah in time? Nick gauged that it would take her at least a week to cross the Atlantic Ocean and another week or so before she reached Russia. At this time of the year, snow came early in the northern European areas.
Nick cursed under his breath. Their horse and buggy didn’t travel fast enough for Nick’s liking. Impatience and anxiety crept up on him. At once, he shook his head, neither of those feelings would make the journey quicker.
Inhaling a deep breath, Nick relaxed his shoulders as his friend guided the horse down the cleared path. Mosquitoes and flies buzzed around his ears. Nick did his best to ignore them. With his narrow-brimmed hat, he swatted the bugs away. He was used to them, but at this moment, he didn’t welcome their presence.
"I hope everything is all right with your wife, señor," Cirino said.
She’s in good health. Her great aunt has passed away.
"My sympathies, señor." Cirino’s voice held sadness.
Thank you, my friend.
After
