Chapter Text
Jack
Jack watched his young stranger leave, still grinning. The man had been a good sparring partner, witty, sarcastic, and exceptionally funny. He'd missed an intelligent conversation that didn't lead to business in some way. Business was truthfully so dull that it could have brought him to tears. He'd grown used to conversation on the battlefield, so having to speak with dull, money-hungry associates was the worst part of his new world.
He knew he had gotten a lucky break. He was not from money, and his salary as an army medic did little to improve his prospects. Saving a train tycoon's son had been an act of happenstance. The young man had never told anyone that he was from a wealthy family. Saving the boy was part of his job, but he would never turn down the boon of a gift that was given to him. Life was hard. There was no point in being chivalrous about it.
Tapping his cigar on a green ashtray's rim, he leaned his head back onto the train's window. Black lace curtains brushed his cheek, warm from the sun. Placing the cigar back into his mouth, he inhaled the spicy mix of wood and smoke. A small silver bell near the door of the train car tinkled, forcing Jack out of his head. Stubbing his cigar out, he straightened his coat and walked out of the curtained-off smoking room.
Grabbing his cane, which he had left on the other side of the curtain, he walked through the doors connecting the train cars to the front. The dining car was not far, so he only had minor difficulties not jamming his cane into almost invisible steps or awkward corners. Opening the door into the dining car, Jack could see that everyone was on their second course.
Sitting with his business associates, he grabbed a menu from a silver card holder. Looking at the options, he found himself uninterested. He still was not entirely over the fever that had followed his amputation, so these hardy deciduous choices made him ill. Catching the eye of a server, he ordered a cup of coffee and one scoop of vanilla ice cream. While it was not a meal fit for an adult, his business associates thought it made him roguish rather than childish.
Watching other patrons dine on fish and potatoes, Jack tried to tune out the obnoxious talk about business ventures. Old money was not common, but he had somehow found his way into the good graces of a few children of wealthy old southern families.
Fifth-generation sons always wanted to step out of their families' shadows, and so many had followed him to Pittsburgh after his amputation. A few of them had served in the military, but they had been assigned to intelligence rather than combat.
Finally, his server returned with a steaming cup of coffee, a sugar dish, and a covered bowl of ice cream. Coffee and ice cream were uncommon in rations, but he had been given cups of coffee or small scoops of ice cream now and then when speaking with generals who needed medical assistance. Taking a sip of his coffee, Jack hummed happily at the bitter taste.
"Oh, Abbot. Are you really not coming to the club with us?" A younger gentleman asked. Jack let the silence hang for a moment as everyone at their table looked at him. Adding a pinch of sugar to his coffee, he tasted it again before nodding. Ever since Jack had taken the young man to bed, he'd been all for getting Jack alone again. For a man with a fiancée, he was insatiable.
"I did say I was staying with a friend. I can not ignore my host for my first night there." Jack explained with a fake, easy-going smile. The young gentleman pouted boyishly, reminding Jack of how young the man was. He was not going to entertain flirtation in front of an entire train car of people, especially after he'd found out the man had been calling Jack a beggar behind his back. "I do have some manners." Jack added.
"You have been in the South too long. You're becoming a gelding." An older man teased. The rest of the group tittered at the joke. Because of Jack's station, making him the donkey of a joke was just part of his role in the group. Eating a spoonful of his ice cream, Jack controlled his expression.
"Perhaps. But he is my oldest friend." Jack countered in a friendly tone. The man who he'd been with before meeting the young stranger made a face. While Jack was not particularly religious anymore, he inwardly prayed the man would not start gossiping at their table.
"Does that big house of his even have a guest room?" The man asked playfully. Conversation stopped, eyes snapping to Jack and the man. Pretending to enjoy his ice cream so much that he had not heard the man's rude question, Jack continued sucking on his spoon. "Will there be a guest room, or will you be sleeping on the operating table?" The man asked even louder.
"From what he said in his letters, the house has multiple guest rooms." Jack answered. A double stereotype, they were going for a record today. The man's mouth thinned, annoyed that Jack wasn't joking with him. While Jack had no problem being the victim of their tasteless jokes, he had no interest in bringing Robby into the conversation.
"Right, he bought that big townhouse in the city." The man agreed awkwardly. Jack could see the others making eye contact when they thought he was not paying attention. He knew this would be a blow to his likability. He'd need to make another cripple joke before they found him dull.
"Let's just hope it is on the first floor." Jack joked. Bouncing back, his face lit up at the group. He may have been one of the oldest members of the group, but he could not afford to be unliked. Prospects in Pittsburgh hung on to the places that these people could get him into.
His cane was leaning between his legs under the table. Feeling the younger gentleman tap the end of it with his foot for his attention, Jack pulled his cane farther up into his lap. Ignoring the man's exaggerated frown across the table, Jack tucked his cane under his left elbow so he could still enjoy his meal. He could only hope that Pittsburgh would be better, even if it meant dealing with these people for the rest of his life. It could not be worse than active duty, surely?
___________
Pittsburgh looked both the same as the city of his childhood and yet vastly different. The homes and shops on the outskirts of the city were the same ones he'd seen on the carriage heading to the South. However, the closer the train pulled into the inner city, the more new buildings sprouted up. Rails into the city had split through neighborhoods that happened to be in its path.
Pulling into the Pittsburgh train station, Jack was surprised by the sheer size of the building. The train station must have been the size of the courthouse, perhaps even larger, to house all of the train lines that stopped there. His associates seemed charmed by the station, but Jack was more worried about what had been demolished to build such a structure in the middle of the city.
A worker unloaded the luggage from the wealthier cars onto bronze trollies near the train's platforms. Jack had two suitcases with all his possessions, but other passengers had upwards of ten for a short city vacation. He'd put a more fashionable hat on for the occasion. He tipped his hat to his associates as he grabbed his two suitcases in one hand.
Pulling the suitcases while using his cane was a challenge. They rattled against one another, the small wheels getting stuck on the bumps in the tiling. Once he'd gotten far enough to be out of his associate's sight, he sat down on a wooden bench in the middle of the train station. Paying someone to help him with his bags seemed like a waste of money, but there was no way he was getting to Robby's house like this.
"Tired? Where's that patriotic spirit from your letters?" A female voice asked him. Jack's eyes snapped up, finding his friend Dana standing next to his bench. Smiling, Jack stood up, using his cane as leverage to bow to her politely. Dana was smiling too, her face crinkling more than he remembered.
"Never. One can't be tired in a city like Pittsburgh." Jack said. Sarcasm was their way of communicating. Jack had met Dana when she came to Virginia with her husband. The man had been nice enough, but Jack and Dana had really hit it off. The couple had been there to provide funding for artillery, but most of their stay had been spent at grand dinners and parties with wealthy families in safety.
"Then why am I exhausted? Come on, Robby sent me to catch you." Dana teased. She was in a fashionable periwinkle-blue bustle skirt and a cream hat at a jaunty angle. It did not suit her at all, but perception was everything for a lawman's wife. Jack grinned wider. Of course, Robby would send someone to pick Jack up at the station.
"Catch me? I'm not a stray cat, Miss Evans." Jack rebuked playfully. Dana shrugged, sticking a hand out to grab the handle of one of Jack's suitcases. He looked behind her, surprised not to see any help with her. "Did you come to the station alone?" He implored her.
"My carriage is outside. I can't very well have my rider leave it out there." Dana assured him with a roll of her eyes. It was dangerous for a woman to be at the station alone either way. There was no way to call out to her driver from inside the building. Deciding he should pick his battles, Jack nodded slowly.
"True. Let's get going then." Jack agreed. Grabbing hold of the unoccupied suitcase, the two of them made their way to the station's entrance. Jack still struggled a bit, but because of her heels, Dana was not walking that fast either. All kinds of people were at the station, and the patrons' blasé attitude was fascinating.
Walking through the front entrance, Jack was relieved by the bustle of the city street. Everything had seemed foreign inside the station, but Pittsburgh looked like home again once he could see outside. The fashions had changed slightly, but the same types of people were going about their days as usual. Pausing at the top of the stairs leading to the city street, Jack swore to himself at the inconvenient drops between steps. Jack's prosthetic leg was made of wood, with a leather strap around his thigh to support its weight. All of it was hollow except the foot, where a steel bottom had been placed to create the illusion of weight to his walk. However, this illusion of weight made it difficult to pick up his wooden leg and put it on something at a different height.
Dana stopped with him, her eyes glancing toward him before dropping to his leg. He'd sent a letter when everything had happened, but it was one thing to read about it and another to see it. She hummed in thought, her eyes scanning the street for something. Jack was watching her with interest until his eyes landed on his young stranger.
The man looked much the same, the back of his light hair all Jack could see. Jack felt compelled to watch him, curious about what the man was doing in Pittsburgh. He seemed intelligent, so Jack assumed he was going to University or getting a job at one of the new factories in the city. He was brought out of his thoughts by Dana whistling right next to his ear. He jumped, his head turning to her with alarm.
"Come along, my driver will take your suitcase." Dana explained. Jack breathed out a sigh of relief that she seemed not to have caught him checking out a man in broad daylight. He was going to need to get better at controlling his urges. This was not the army anymore. It was not as safe to be like that in public.
Looking back at where his stranger had been, he saw that the younger man had already left. He supposed it was for the best. It was not like Jack was planning to continue his vices while in Pittsburgh. Seeing the driver walking up the stairs, Jack tried to forget the man altogether. The driver took both suitcases, with one in each hand, and he walked back to Dana's carriage.
Dana followed the man, keeping her head up and yet somehow taking each step with dignity. Jack tried to follow her example, using his cane to get down the stairs. He felt like a newborn calf, his knee buckling while his wooden leg clunked onto each step. Grinding his teeth, feeling the burn of his upper arm as he pulled his entire weight along with his cane. Dana was gracious enough not to stop and watch his descent, but others were not.
A child with her mother watched him with great interest. Her large blue eyes followed his movements, her sticky mouth open in shock. Amputation was not the strangest thing in the world. But he couldn't give her and the rest of his audience much attention as he lumbered down the stairs. Finally reaching the city street, he sighed in relief.
"Would you mind if we stop by the shops? Langdon has been begging for someone to pick up a coffee press for the clinic." Dana asked him as he reached her. Jack shrugged. He did not know Langdon very well. The man worked with Robby, according to his letters. The practice attached to Robby's townhouse was only a few years old. Robby had hired Langdon soon after opening, due to the influx of patients during the first month.
"Will he not let us on the premises without it?" Jack joked. Dana shrugged, taking her driver's hand to get into the high carriage door. Grabbing the side of the open carriage door, Jack pulled himself inside and then stepped farther in. His cane banged against the metal steps, jarring his arm and almost smacking into the driver.
"He should be at home with his family." Dana replied with a tilt of her head. Jack nodded. It was the weekend. Most practices were not open on the weekend, and Robby did not particularly like people, so he would have taken the opportunity to decompress in a heartbeat.
Sitting down, Jack tilted his cane against his thigh, watching Dana sit down across from him. She looked unimpressed with Langdon. The man must've been more of a character than Robby had written. The driver closed the door, and Jack could hear him climb to the top of the carriage and close the leg box. With the swift smack of a whip, they were on their way.
"How are the children? Your girls should be out in society by now, right?" Jack asked, changing topics. Dana made a face, leaning back into the velvet bench of her carriage.
"You know both are handfuls. Beatrice won't get married unless we let her go to classes at the University." Dana told him. She was trying to sound annoyed by the girl's whiles, but Jack knew she loved how strong and spirited her children were.
"A scholar? That'll go over well." Jack said. He didn't actually mind the idea. Women were intelligent, and he'd met many who would fit right at home at a university. Dana herself had been a willful girl, teaching herself mathematics, anatomy, and medicine from her father's personal library.
"George is thinking about allowing her a year before putting her on the marriage market." Dana explained with pride. She and her husband were probably the most madly in love couple Jack had ever met. But he was glad they both had more modern views and wanted to give their daughters a brighter future.
"Is Eliza doing well, too?" Jack questioned. Eliza was her older daughter, a sweet, mature girl who somehow always found herself in the middle of drama. Dana sighed, pressing her skirt straight on her lap.
"She's actually interested in marrying. However, she won't tell us with whom. Apparently, she's too shy to go up to the fellow." Dana told him with a shrug. Jack nodded. He understood the feeling. When he'd been a boy, he'd never told Robby how he'd felt either. It was hard to go for people who felt out of one's reach.
"Eliza's a beautiful and intelligent woman. I am sure her secret paramour will find his way." Jack assured her. Leaning over, he patted Dana's hand. It was uncouth to touch her so casually while in public, but they were close enough not to mind the contact in private. "You've been keeping busy. Time does move fast." Jack added.
"Faster every day. Look at you, you're practically completely grey." Dana teased him. Jack took his hand back in mock offense. They were both approaching their golden years. Time had passed, and Jack only had a couple of years in the army and a bloody stump to show for it.
"Not everybody can keep their perfect blonde hair like you, Dana." Jack shot back. Dana put a hand to her heart, a genuine smile blooming on her face. She fluffed the silky blonde hair at her neck, making her hat bounce with the movement.
"You do say the sweetest things, Jack." Dana cooed. Her sweet voice dropped as the carriage pulled to a stop. Pulling the curtain open a crack, Jack peered outside. They were on a shopping street, with a coffee shop right across from the window. It was a newer building with dark brick and an attached cafe in a slimmer yellow building.
"Did you order ahead, or should we step inside?" Jack asked. Dana also cracked her side of the curtain open, taking in the shop. He could vaguely smell fresh coffee beans, but also a whiff of the new sewer system that bubbled up in the unpaved streets.
"What am I, the Queen of England? I can brush elbows with the peasants for long enough to buy a coffee press." Dana admonished him playfully. The driver stepped into their line of vision through the window, and the two let the curtain close. Grabbing his cane again, he extended his other hand to Dana to help her get up.
"The Queen of Pittsburgh, perhaps." Jack teased. Dana huffed out a laugh before taking his hand and standing. Jack watched as the driver opened the carriage door and lowered the metal steps to the street. Jack switched her hand over to the driver's so the man could help her descend the steps.
Following Dana out of the carriage, Jack was hit with the more pungent smell of coffee beans and sweet cream. Tipping his hat to the driver, he extended his arm to Dana. Dana smiled and took his arm, playing the part of the gentile patrons strolling into a shop. The driver stayed with the carriage, leaning against the wheels while the horses munched on mouth bags of oats.
"We'll just be in and out. Robby is probably pacing the halls waiting for you." Dana assured him. Walking into the coffee shop, the stink of the street disappeared. Candle sconces made the inside warm and inviting. Shelves were lined with everything one could need to make coffee at home. Bags of prepared beans, filters, coffee sets, bean grinders, bags of sugar, jars of creamer, and finally, their prized coffee press.
"You won't take a taste? They've got free samples." Jack whispered. Titling his head down a little, Jack could speak with Dana in relative privacy. The shop was not terribly busy, but it did take a moment for an employee to walk up to them.
"We just need one of those coffee presses." Dana told the employee before they could ask. She pointed at a coffee press on a high shelf. The employee nodded and walked away to pick up their purchase and prepare it for transport.
"Is coffee such a lucrative business? This place is a bit fancier than I imagined." Jack asked. While he'd enjoyed his cup of coffee on the train, he'd thought it was more of an acquired taste. However, this shop had hundreds of coffee bean blends and enough stock to sell to all of Pittsburgh.
"It's been popular for a while now, Abbot. You've just been living on the field." Dana explained with a small smile. She wasn't wrong. Most new inventions and fashions did not reach the battlefield unless a soldier happened to hear about them while off duty. Jack had not even known that the corset was going out of style until he saw a gentile lady without one and thought she was in her sleeping gown. It had been an awkward conversation.
"Coffee does taste good. The train here had a very nice black coffee." Jack agreed. Other patrons were talking with employees about coffee blends, tasting small porcelain cups of different brewed variants. It smelled nice, but he did not think it was possible to stop and try all of them. "Does Robby drink coffee, or is this just for that Langdon fellow?" Jack asked cheekily.
"Robby will drink anything with enough sugar in it." Dana said. She was not wrong. Jack thought the man could drink shoe polish if there were enough cream and sugar in it. The employee they'd spoken with returned with a wooden crate just big enough to hold the coffee press inside. Red logo stamps were fresh on both sides of the crate. It honestly looked like a tiny version of the crates of beans Jack had seen as a lad. "Thank you." Dana expressed with a polite smile.
Dana handed the employee the money for the coffee press, and Jack took the crate from the employee's hands. He stuck it under his arm, not holding his cane, leaning hard on his real foot to keep his balance with the new weight on one side. The employee bid them goodbye as they left the store. Jack would need to return on his own time. He was curious about the differences that could be in different blends of coffee beans.
"We should probably head toward Robby's house. Knowing him, he probably sent a boy down to check the train schedule for today." Jack explained, handing the crate over to the driver. The driver used his unoccupied hand to help Dana into the carriage. Jack catapulted his way inside again as the driver climbed up the side of the carriage to get into his riding box. The loud slide of the driver attaching the box to the carriage's roof filled the inside before they heard the man snap his whip at the horses to get moving.
"I've been meaning to ask. Are you planning to join Robby's practice?" Dana questioned him. Jack looked away. He honestly was dreading Robby asking him the same question. He'd been an army medic for almost three decades, but his accomplishments translated poorly to general practice. His job had been to get soldiers in and out of his tent as soon as possible. Almost half of his patients had been too far gone to save, and he was tired of watching good people die. But he did love it. Truly, he loved helping people, maybe even more than he loved Robby.
"I doubt he'll have use of a cripple who can't stand up for long enough to help anyone." Jack said with a self-deprecatory laugh. Dana's face twisted in a flash of anger, and Jack flushed in embarrassment. He'd been picking at the wound of suddenly being an amputee for the amusement of his companions in the South. However, he'd also been doing it with a splash of truth. He did think his usefulness had diminished, and his place in the world was called into question if he could not do labor on his own two feet for more than thirty minutes.
"Jack. You know Robby would carry you on his shoulders if he had to, if only to have you with him all day." Dana reprimanded him sternly. She sounded like a mother, strict and yet loving toward him. Jack smiled a little. He was glad he'd brought Robby and Dana together once Dana and her husband had returned to Pittsburgh. Robby and Dana were his two favorite people, and he was glad they seemed just as close, if not closer, with one another as he was with either of them.
Jack nodded shyly, and the carriage ride turned into companionable silence. The carriage wheels bumped along unpaved streets, cobblestone paths, and brick roads. Bouncing from the tracks on the street had been jarring, but Dana seemed unfazed by all of the turbulence they experienced. He could not tell how close they were to Robby's place, but he assumed they were getting close. The longer the silence lasted, the more Dana's face wrinkled in guilt.
"You know you're allowed to talk about your own disability however you want to. I do not like hearing you talk about yourself like that." Dana explained weakly. Evidently, the conversation had been weighing on her even after Jack had let it go. Dana looked shy, which was a sight to behold in such a confident woman. Jack leaned over and placed his hand on hers, smiling warmly at her words.
"It's okay, Dana, I understand. This is all just new, I'm learning how to deal with it in my own way." Jack assured her. Dana deflated a little at his assurance that he was not upset with her. They were friends, but they had not spoken face-to-face in many years. Things were going to be rocky for a while when it came to communication.
The carriage rolled to a stop, its driver bellowing at the horses to slow down. Jack patted Dana's hand one more time before leaning back in his seat. The driver opened the carriage door and assisted Dana outside, stepping down on the brick walkways. Jack followed, his eyes on the drop from the carriage as he descended the steps. With his feet securely on the ground, Jack looked up at the townhouse they'd stopped at.
Robby had done well for himself. When they'd been children, Robby and his family had been living above a shop. Jack had lived a few streets over, so they'd become fast friends while playing in the street. Robby's family had sold dry goods, a venture that was supposed to trickle down to Robby. From the letter Jack had received, the family business had gone under when Robby's parents died from cholera.
Looking at the large townhouse Robby had bought, Jack was astonished by the uphill climb it must have taken to get here. The attached medical practice jutting into the garden was definitely new, but it fit Robby well. The driver pulled down Jack's suitcases and set them at Jack's feet. Looking at Dana, he saw that she had decided to lumber the crate holding the coffee press on her own.
Steeling himself, Jack arranged the suitcases in his unoccupied hand. He could make it a few steps to the front door, where he suspected a maid would take his luggage. Tipping his hat at the driver again, Jack and Dana made their way forward. The garden was larger than most of the land a Pittsburgh citizen could afford. Robby did not have a green thumb, but it was nice that he was not avoiding pleasant touches in his life as an old bachelor.
"Right? I told him he did not need such a big place. But he said it was perfect for his practice." Dana explained lightly. The house was big for just him and his servants. He wondered if Robby was keeping patients overnight for around-the-clock observation. There was enough room for it to be a possibility.
"It is a nice neighborhood, though. Not as stuffy as the high street but definitely not the slums." Jack countered. Doing rotations at medical universities around the city made more money than Jack would have imagined. However, an experienced doctor with a good reputation was a hassle to find when they kept dying from contracted illnesses.
"So's my neighborhood. If that ass of a landlord would let Jewish people buy from him." Dana grumbled. Jack nodded. Dana had sent a long, angry rant of a letter about Robby not being allowed to buy property in the neighborhoods closer to her and her family. Jack had been furious, too, but Robby had been eerily calm about it.
Opening the garden's gate, Jack let Dana walk in before him. He slipped in behind her, closing the gate behind them. Walking up to the front door, Jack used the knocker to bang on the door. Dana snorted next to him, stopping him with a wave of her hand before opening the door.
"Robby never locks his doors. Something about being available for consultations at all times." Dana complained, walking into the entrance of the house without fanfare. Jack walked in behind her, closing the front door quietly. It was strangely silent in the house—no servants in sight.
Walking into the central part of the house, Jack looked at the way Robby had done up the place. He suspected the man had bought the house with the furniture inside, because Robby had zero taste. Everything was modern, though, with clean edges and monochromatic colors. Dana deposited the crate on a china cabinet under the staircase. Turning to him, Dana stretched her back out, putting his arms in the air.
"God, I need a cigar." Dana moaned gruffly. Technically, cigars were only meant to be sold to men, but Dana had been smoking them since she was a teenager. Rolling his eyes fondly, Jack fished out his cigar case and opened it. Dana took a cigar out of the case, grinning cheekily at his immediate offer.
"Weren't you trying to quit? I ought to tell George." Jack teased. Dana laughed, putting her hand out for Jack's lighter. Sighing, Jack fished his lighter out and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks before looking up at the staircase with curiosity.
"Robby doesn't let me smoke inside, so I'll take this to the back garden. Go have your reunion." Dana told him. She left him standing at the base of the stairs without giving him time to answer. Jack watched her leave, a little nervous now that he was seeing Robby alone for the first time in almost three decades.
Taking the staircase, Jack glanced at the portraits on the wall. Robby must have had them done recently, other than the family portrait, which had been the prized possession of his family even when they'd been shopkeepers. As he got closer to the second floor, he could hear voices down the hall. He was glad that Robby was not alone in this big house. Keeping his door unlocked was one thing, but doing so when alone in a house this big was foolishness. His legs ached. He may have walked up more steps today than he had in years. The sensitive stump under his prosthetic was rubbed raw. He'd need to moisturize it later.
Jack paused at the top of the stairs, cocking his head to listen for where the voices were coming from. It sounded like two voices coming from the far end of the hallway. Turning to the voices, he saw light peaking under a massive closed door at the end of the hallway. Following the sound, Jack limped alone, his cane loud on the wooden flooring. He was tired, so his cane scraped as he pushed himself to keep moving.
Knocking gently on the door, Jack stood listening to the conversation. He could not make out what was being said, but the voices did not even falter at his knocking. Shrugging, he pushed the door open. Robby was his best friend. He doubted the man would be angry with him for coming in without getting permission.
The voices stopped immediately. Jack blinked in the light of two bay windows facing the sun, only seeing the outline of two people before his eyes adjusted to the light. Once he could see more easily, he first made eye contact with… his young stranger!
"What are you doing here?" Jack asked the stranger. Whincing at his bluntness, he coughed awkwardly. He'd not meant to interrogate the lad, but he was shocked to see the same man from the train in the middle of his friend's office.
Looking further into the room, Jack made eye contact with Robby. Something in his snapped back into place, neither man saying anything as they stared at one another. The stranger coughed awkwardly, and both Jack and Robby looked back at him. Never in his days had Jack had something like this happen to him.
Maybe it was a sign.