Rose by Jill Marie Landis

?Pardon?”
    Realization dawned, and he bent down until they stood nearly nose to nose. “Speakie English?” he yelled.
    Rosa took a step backward and tried to enunciate as clearly as she could. “ Sì . This is Busted Heel?”
    “Yes.” He nodded officially. “Yes, it is.”
    The conductor interrupted as he set her trunk down with a loud thud. Rose thanked him, then turned her attention back to the stationmaster and waited for the hissing, chugging train to depart before she spoke again.
    “I come to meet my husband. Maybe you know him?” She smiled hopefully. “Giovanni Audi?”
    The man’s open expression immediately fell, and he focused his attention on the ground. When he did raise his eyes, they failed to meet hers directly.
    “Mrs. Audi, ma’am”—he cleared his throat—“I’m gonna send you along to see the town marshal, Kase Storm.” He pointed in the direction of the group of buildings just beyond the platform.
    “You walk down the left side o’ Main Street till ya get to the jail and you’ll most likely find Marshal Storm inside. If not, jes’ wait there an’ he’ll be in shortly.”
    “Jail?” She’d never heard the word before.
    Confusion must have etched itself upon her features, for he held up a hand, a signal for her to wait. The man hurried back into his office and returned a moment later with a small piece of paper on which he’d written the word “jail.” Apologetically, he took Rosa by the elbow and turned her about before he walked her to the edge of the platform that faced the town. He pointed toward the wide street flanked by an assortment of false-fronted wooden buildings.
    “You just stay on this side, he indicated the left, “until you come to the building with this word on it.” He tapped the paper.
    “But my husband said...”
    He smiled a kindly, sympathetic smile that sent a wave of apprehension through Rosa. “Just go on along now, little lady, and I’ll pull your trunk inside for you. No need to worry about that, too.”
    Although she continued to clutch the valise before her in both hands, she had forgotten about her trunk until the man mentioned it.
    Slowly, moving as if in a daze, she made her way toward the group of buildings squatting on the open plain. This was Busted Heel? This small, dirty outpost standing unprotected from the elements by so much as a single tree? Even the village of Corio was far grander than this. Where were the green fields she had expected to see? The rich farmlands? In lieu of those, where was the thriving settlement of her dreams? Dio, she thought as she stared at the two straight rows of forlorn-looking buildings, where was the church?
    But above all, where was Giovanni?
    The heels of her high-button shoes rang loudly against the boardwalk that rose above the dusty street. There was no one about, no sign of life other than a horse tied to a hitching rail farther along the way. A drop of perspiration trickled along her temple and started down her cheek before she swiped at it with her fingertips. The black velvet gown grew heavier with every step. The wide-brimmed hat, instead of affording some relief from the blazing sunshine, only added to her discomfort. She passed the first building, barely glancing at the various and sundry merchandise displayed in the windows.
    The next shop was much smaller. The letters above the door spelled out “Laundry” in peeling white paint. A strange-sounding singsong language issued from inside the darkened interior. Curious, Rosa paused to listen for a moment before she hurried on.
    “Barber, Baths and Dentistry.” The words spread out in bold red, white, and blue across the next storefront. A striped pole stood against one corner of the building. Not only was the door closed, but the shades inside were drawn tight, so Rosa moved past without stopping to stare. Her attention was soon focused on the last building on the west side of the street.
    “Jail.” She compared the letters spelled out