Finding Her Way Read online



  Finding Her Way

  By Leah Banicki

  Finding Her Way

  By Leah Banicki

  Copyright © 2011, 2012, 2014 Leah Banicki

  3rd edition

  Previously released as Seeing the Elephant, rewritten edited and revised. – Leah Banicki

  This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements:

  To my amazing family who cheered me on for many years, I thank you. My parents for letting me read anything I could get my hands on when I was young. You both are so creative in your own ways.

  I love you both!

  For my Mom, her endless support and shared love of writing. Our book will come someday! Thanks for all the help! Dad, thanks for the tech and graphics support, your insight made a big difference along the journey.

  To those who helped me clean up the multitude of grammatical issues I pray a blessing over all of you. You were such a blessing and help to me.

  For my husband Jeff, for encouraging me and helping me make sure that a guy would really say what I wrote. I love you!

  For my daughter Emma, for always believing and telling me that I am nothing less than a superstar. I pray you reach for your dreams with tenacity and vigor!

  For my sister Rachel, your light shines in my heart so bright. Thank you for everything. I can see you dancing and worshipping in heaven in my dreams.

  For my curious readers:

  This book was previously released as Seeing the Elephant. I wrote that book while in a sickbed, undiagnosed and pretty miserable. I self-published with only my own editing and mainly it was because I wanted to fulfill a dream I had always had of publishing this story. I had no idea my book would reach so many people. As I am healing from my illness, slowly, I wanted to fix some mistakes that were released while I was so sick.

  I got the idea for this book over a decade ago and have so many years of research into it. This story means so much to me, especially now having made my own frightening journey. I want to make this book to be the best it can be. It went through a rewrite, an editor and another go through to put the best foot forward for Corinne’s story. I hope those that read Seeing the Elephant will appreciate the changes, and my new readers will not be as distracted by my silly grammar mistakes from the first time around.

  The reason for the name change… There were two prominent textbooks named Seeing the Elephant and they didn’t want to anyone to be confused with them, I was glad to honor their request for a name change.

  Finding Her Way is a labor of love for me… I hope you find it to be a blessing.

  Sincerely,

  Leah Banicki

  Table of Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Part 2

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Part 3

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Angela’s Hope - Exerpt

  Wildflowers Book 1 ~

  Corinne ~ like a lavender blossom.

  A simple pretty flower to the eye but inside

  hides strength and healing.

  Part One:

  * * * * *

  Chapter One

  Feb 22 1848 – Boston, Massachusetts

  She was married to a stranger. Corinne Temple had accepted and wholeheartedly agreed to marry a man she did not know as an arranged marriage, of sorts. So far Corinne did not like him much.

  She was seventeen years old and she knew she was a naïve. Her choices had proven that to her. She had this terrifying tendency to realize her mistakes only after the decision was made. She assumed it was a common problem among others in her age bracket, but she wasn’t sure how to remedy it but for life experience and gathering wisdom. She knew her choices today could easily backfire but she stiffened her spine and determined herself to endure through.

  Her new husband, Andrew Temple, was a good friend of her father but mostly unknown to her. He had recently graduated from Harvard Veterinary Medical School. His tall blond good looks were a front. After one brief visit and a letter of introduction from her father, which was the extent of their acquaintance, it still wasn’t enough to clue her in on his attitude. Corinne was clueless how to handle him. Her inner fire was snuffed out when he stood near, she was not sure if her immature wit could stand up against his ill-tempered condescension.

  Andrew’s stiff and formal facial expressions were still unreadable and his demeanor a bit chilly, if Corinne allowed herself an opinion. She had always heard glowing accounts of the Temple family from her father. But he had only mentioned the parents in his conversations from years past. Corinne was going off of old conversations and her remembrance was way off, she mused. No matter what her opinion, she had little choice. Andrew was her ticket to Oregon so she packed her objections in her satchel and focused on reuniting with her father. He waited for her in Oregon City.

  Corinne waited in her Aunt's fashionable 12th street Boston home, she was determined to think about anything but that man, for her own sanity. The walls were gilded in pinks and golds, great drops of crystal cascaded from the chandeliers, the grand staircase wrapped elegantly around the back and majestically descended into the great hall. Halfway down the stairs there was a great view of the parlor on one side and the ballroom on the other. Artisans from Italy and France laid the exquisite marble floor. The fireplaces designed by a famous stonemason, the iron grates, and tools imported from the best artists and craftsmen from around the world. Few houses in Boston could boast of finer rooms or impressive displays of wealth. It had been a long while since it even fazed Corinne. This place did not look like a prison, but Corinne had lost her freedom a few years ago when she tied her first whalebone corset around her petite frame. The grandeur came at a price.

  The servants scurried around her as she followed the strict orders of her Auntie Rose. Corinne's secret name for her was the General as she threw orders at her and the servants, as well as any military man. Corinne grew impatient with waiting and tried to help a few hours earlier. She was reprimanded instantly.

  "Corinne, you dishonor the place I have given you in my home, when you insist on acting like the common scullery." Her Aunt said in her usual volume... Loud!

  Corinne stopped helping with the bag organization and resumed her brainless position by the door, she watched her Aunt belittle the help with a feeling of helplessness. She looked about for her lady’s maid, Angela Fahey, for encouragement. She found disappointment; her Aun
t had put her lady’s maid to work. Within the hour she was leaving her temporary Boston home and heading out toward the great West with this stranger that was her husband. The Oregon Trail would be months of grueling travel, far removed from her momentary comfort. Corinne was eager to start.

  She held her mother's book of psalms and though she did not dare read them in front of her Aunt, she felt a comfort in knowing their words in her heart. The wisdom she gained, daily, helped her. She said a prayer of thanks again and again, that her father had forgiven her outburst from three years before, and was willing to make arrangements for their reunion, it was a miracle to Corinne. She reread the short message she received in September from her father; it was now between the pages of her psalms.

  Arranged for travel to Oregon. Andrew Temple can marry and escort you. He will contact you.

  Andrew sent his calling card the third week of September 1847. He arrived with a long letter from her father. It proposed a plan of his marrying Corinne and bringing her West. His parents were there already and Andrew was going to work with her father, John Harpole on his ranch.

  There were mundane details about breeding stock and ranch issues that did not interest Corinne, but seeing her father’s strong bold handwriting was a comfort. She missed him and would go to impossible lengths to see him again. She would deal with a husband to make amends. I am sure Andrew’s attitude will improve once he gets to know me. She thought.

  A part of her knew that marrying a stranger was foolish. But she knew of no other way to see her father again. After weeks of struggling with doubts she set aside all her negative thoughts and made her mind up. She was going West, and a husband of her father’s choosing was the only way.

  Andrew had stoically agreed to see to her safety and marry her in February before they left. He claimed to have classes to attend and was gone after the short meeting. After five months of no word, he sent a telegram saying the wedding was arranged for February 22, at nine a.m.

  The General had been outraged to have a wedding with no fuss or guests, but Corinne stood up to her Aunt and made her realize that this was not a 'social event' but a simple ceremony. Corinne boldly told her it did not concern her. 'Their train would be leaving at two in the afternoon. There was no time for wedding nonsense.' Words had been strained between her and her Auntie the entire week.

  She glanced Andrew’s way a few times during the short ceremony. His height reaching well over six foot and it made her feel tiny. His dark blond curls were peppered with light blond highlights. His lips pressed firmly in a tight line through the entire morning. He barely spoke a word beyond what was necessary.

  The judge came to her Aunt's home and did the service with efficiency. Corinne wore her traveling clothes and Andrew was in a common tweed suit. There was no kiss-the-bride moment.

  Corinne was certain it was her wild imagination, but Andrew seemed agitated with her already. She had no idea what he would be so annoyed about in such a short acquaintance. Certainly not the joy of a groom on his wedding day. She nearly laughed but kept her face composed as her Aunt and husband were glaring at her. It was very disconcerting.

  Corinne pulled herself back to the present and began to watch the repacking of her precious medicinal plant oils. She had several small wooden boxes holding her medicines and healing balms to take on the journey and her lady’s maid, Angie, clearly expressed Corinne's desire, to the footmen, that they be packed well. They doubled-checked the packing, when suddenly a small vial of peppermint oil was dropped and broke, by a servant who would remain nameless, for his protection from my Aunt. It immediately soaked into the Oriental rug in the grand foyer. Within minutes the smell of peppermint was strong. It made Corinne's eyes water a little but it wasn’t too unpleasant. There were worse smells, Corinne thought, amusing herself.

  Auntie Rose was instantly mortified and declared the stench was giving her fits and a migraine, her goodbyes were brief and she rushed her well-corseted frame up the stairs and into her wing of the house.

  If Corinne wasn't leaving today she was confident she would have seen Auntie Rose in a shrieking rage. Auntie would stir the staff into a flurry of activity to get her away to her country home for a stay of a week or more, the oriental rug was certainly doomed. She was certain to never know but the scene played out humorously in Corinne's imagination.

  With a glance at the hall mirror Corinne made sure she was put together. When she looked over her young face she could hear Auntie's voice in her head. "You look like a child with a woman's body." Auntie had a way of saying things that could keep you guessing whether it was an insult or not. Corinne shrugged at her own reflection. Her long brown hair was swept back neatly and her bonnet was simple but fashionable. She would not embarrass herself but cared little for being elaborate for traveling.

  Corinne clutched her green silk satchel close to her. "It's the latest fashion!" Auntie Rose would say in her high-pitched voice. Corinne learned long ago to hide her expressions from her Aunt. So many times she wanted to smirk, or roll her eyes at the ridiculous pursuit of what others deemed fashionable. She may look the part of the fashion plate right now but she was still a rancher's daughter at heart. She knew how to ride horses well, tie knots, and break a horse if necessary. She wasn’t a tomboy but had her rough and tumble moments in life. She knew the calluses had faded away over the last three years but the knowledge was still there. Corinne actually enjoyed dressing up sometimes and feeling pretty was always pleasant, but she didn’t care for fashion the way the Boston crowd did. It made her head swim keeping up with 12th Street crowd. They were all parties, flirting, smoking cigarettes and gossipmongers. She allowed them their pursuits but she had her own goals.

  Corinne's true passion was botany. She learned from her mother and she loved it still. Her three years in Boston she spent as much time as possible in the greenhouses learning and volunteering with the experts. Her mother and grandmother’s journals were coming with her; they were her most prized possessions. Her grandmother, Trudie, studied with the Indian women of the Smoky Mountains and learned many secrets of healing from their women, after earning their trust. Corinne secretly hoped to do that in the West, finding plants and ointments to help future generations. Maybe even publish her journals. Corinne smiled to herself. It was a lovely dream.

  "Miss Fahey," Corinne spotted her companion. Despite their cultural and social differences they were the dearest of friends but kept it behind closed doors for the sake of 'house rules' and the taboos of polite society. Auntie was quite stern over any endearments between the two girls. Corinne knew she would never do anything intentional to cause Angela Fahey to lose her good position in the household staff. Corinne secretly hoped the propriety barrier would lift once they left Boston. She was certain that the road west held many different types of freedom.

  "Is everything at the ready Miss Fahey?" Corinne smiled and reached for the fair-skinned maid. They shared the same excitement, after so many hours together hidden in her room. Months of dreams and hopes for freedom were shared between them.

  "It is Mrs. Temple." The new title made Corinne squirm a little. "At this moment the trunks and surplus supplies are being loaded on your travel car, your personal items and trunks are to be packed into our coach. I have called for it twice. I shall send a footman to see about the delay." Angela's voice was firm with only the slightest hint of her Irish birth. She was desperate to finish her duties well today. She knew her own life would forever change once she left this grand home behind.

  * * * * *

  Angela's own expectations and need for perfection pushed her hard this week with a wedding this morning and all the packing for the trip needed for today, as well. Angela was nearly at her end. Her nerves were weary to the breaking point. The last three days the household had to be run as usual without the head housekeeper, not forgetting the trip planning which was put under Angela's leadership. Corinne's Aunt was a little unmerciful expecting her to handle the packing, wedding, and d
aily chores. Angela should have anticipated it though. The head housekeeper had a delightful habit of catching her death-of-something when huge events came around. Angela was certain that the housekeeper would rally from her illness just in time for the afternoon train departure. Twenty-hour days put the fifteen-year-old Angela into an emotional daze. Last night after a quick prayer and a long cry she slept like a baby for a few hours, before she was up and going again. She had a beautiful vision of herself on the train, taking a long nap, on a cot. Surely a blanket and the floor would work for her at this point.

  Angela took a quick moment to secure her bonnet over her red hair and headed out the front door when she heard the crunch of the carriage wheels as they traveled up the stone road, close to the door. She joined Corinne in the seat of the carriage and let the footmen do their job of loading everything. Angela and Corinne shared a hand squeeze when the carriage finally moved forward toward their future.

  * * * * *

  The train station was crowded and the footmen struggled to get through the crowds with her luggage. After several minutes of jockeying around the station they found Corinne's husband and they joined him. His cowboy hat sat on his brow and he looked ready to take on the world. Corinne tried to appear friendly when she made eye contact but he looked away. It seemed like he changed his mind and then he spoke.

  "Hello wife." A bright smile greeted Corinne as she led her footmen forward. Andrew was truly handsome with dark blond curls and the cowboy hat. His green eyes had a look in them that she just didn’t understand. He was intimidating and confident and he did not seem to be interested in her at all. Corinne told herself to stop being fearful and just to keep thinking about making a good impression.

  She smiled but did not know what to say, her mind empty. A thin man with short brown hair and a serious face walked up silently and stood next to Andrew. Corinne wondered why he was there.

  Andrew noticed her perusal. "This is my man, Reggie. If you need me and can't find me tell him, he will always know where I am." He gave Reggie's shoulder a tap and pointed and Reggie took the satchels sitting on the ground, and headed into the traveling car next to them. Corinne wondered if his job was also to be mute.