by Alden, Dana
Once again, she wished she had her women friends to lean on. She had a flash of insight that life here would never be—no, could never be—the same. Not only jobs and the day to day work of living, or the lack of a market like she’d just been talking about. But simply because of the male-dominated culture and the lack of women friends she would find. She’d known this in her mind but was only now realizing it in her heart.
Cal was certainly different from her friends back home, she thought, looking at his scruffy beard. But perhaps it wasn’t all bad.
“I realize that I will get a life very different from my old one if I want to stay. And that there is no way I could truly know what life will be like here. I have started a train with no brakes. I must be insane.”
“Do you need brakes?”
Amanda paused to sort out the feelings roiling inside of her breast. “I am scared. I am excited.”
Cal gave her a wry smile that she could not help but answer in kind. “I declare you sane.”
She laughed. He slapped his thigh with his hat. “Now, let’s ride out.”
Chapter 12
Cal wound the pack line along the deer path, heading not for Bozeman but for a homestead along a gentle creek descending out of a spring in the foothills of the Bridger Mountains. He knew Amanda was anxious to find her stepbrother, that she didn’t need to see this place, and that it was more important to him that she see it. But, he had another, more valid excuse.
He could feel Amanda twisting around behind him.
“Do you need a break,” he asked.
“No-o-o,” came her reply, “but I’m confused. Are we heading into the town? I thought it was in that direction.” She pointed out to their side, toward the setting sun. They’d reviewed that rough map, drawn in the dirt, earlier in the day. She clearly was trying to get the lay of the land. He admired her attitude; this was a woman who took life by the horns, despite the misgivings she’d voiced earlier.
“It’s farther south than that,” he said, pointing back over his shoulder. “It took us a little longer to get here than I’d planned. I’d rather not show up in town just before dark. We don’t know if your friends are waiting for you.”
“Not my friends,” he heard her mumble.
“We’ll spend the night out by Spring Creek, get cleaned up, and head into town in the morning. That way, I can scope it out with my looking glass before we’re in the middle of it.” The day had warmed up considerably, and he looked forward washing off the sweat and dust he’d accumulated.
The horses and mules weaved among the red branches and green leaves of the willows. The air was sweeter and fresher, and the animals, knowing they were near rest and shade, picked up their pace.
“Is that going to work? We could spend all day circling the town, looking along the edges for the men whose faces we wouldn’t know anyway.”
Cal laughed. “And just how big do you think this town is?”
He felt Amanda swat his shoulder. “Why are you laughing? What don’t I know?”
“Bozeman was only incorporated last August. It’s platted and all, but there are only... let me remember... ten buildings, maybe a few more since my last visit. It really was just a crossing place until last year—called Jacob’s Crossing. And mostly still is, though John Bozeman and the others are hoping for more.”
“This John Bozeman must be important if they named the town after him.” She sounded impressed.
Cal didn’t like that. John was a smooth-talking charmer who liked pretty ladies. “Don’t go thinking that.”
“Will there be a place for me to stay?”
“Oh, there’s a hotel. Big enough for the owner to get married in last winter. Big enough, too, for women and children to hide in earlier this summer when folks thought the Sioux were going to raid.”
Cal heard Amanda’s intake of breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that last. But then, maybe it was good for her to be reminded of the risks of living out in Montana Territory.
Just then, the willow bushes opened up onto a creek and an open field.
One side drifted back up into the foothills. The other opened up for a jaw-dropping view of the valley. The land was green and brown, the horizon just turning golden with purple streaks among the clouds.
“Oh my,” Amanda whispered, and this time Cal was pleased with the awe in her voice. They splashed across the stream and then walked up the hill to a flattened spot. It was his favorite place.
The creek flowed behind them, the mountains to the north, and the valley opening up to the west. It was breathtaking. Knowing she would get a break there, a chance to clean up and feel respectable again made it even more appealing. Amanda noticed a fire pit just as Cal swung off the horse. He turned to help her dismount, his hands grasping her around the waist.
Amanda said, “What a lovely spot. Do you stop here often?”
He looked at her without removing his hands.“Whenever I can. I’ve filed a claim and I’ve started improving it.”
“Oh,” she said, now feeling utterly confused. Who was this mountain man really? “So, you don’t want to be a mountain man anymore?”
Cal laughed and lifted her by the waist to spin her around. He dropped his hands and moved to stand beside her. He placed his right arm across her upper back, grasping her far shoulder to steer her into position. “See that stand of trees way yonder?” She nodded. He swung her around to face west. “See that dip over there, with the blue flowers diving into it?” She nodded, and he swung her again. “Now, see those cottonwoods there?” She nodded at the sight of the big, gnarled trees. “This is all mine. I’ve claimed it.” At this he threw out his other arm and spun them in a circle, “And I’m homesteading it. I’m going to call it...well, I don’t know. It’s my paradise is all I know.”
His smile was beautiful and infectious. Amanda laughed at his joy, and at her own misjudgment of him. It was confusing to know so little of a person and yet to put her life in his hands. And to do it so... comfortably. She withdrew from his embrace. “It’s a wonderful place, Cal.”
She spun around, trying to take it all in. “What happened over there?” She pointed to a blackened tree trunk down the creek a little way. It looked to be a large cottonwood with a Y-split in its trunk.
“Lightning strikes last summer.”
Amanda grabbed his wrist. “Is that common?” She didn’t like lightning storms.
“We get our share,” Cal said, eyeing her concern. “But don’t worry too much. Lightning doesn’t usually strike twice.”
“Usually?”
“That tree is unusual. One strike hit that side of the tree over there,” he pointed. “It caused a little fire, but the rain doused it. A week later, another storm brought another strike to the other side. It smoldered a couple of days, but luckily didn’t spread.”
Amanda found herself unable to look away. Once again, the world out West was turning out to be bigger—and badder—than she had dreamed.
“There’s more.” Cal turned Amanda away from the tree and led her toward a rise. He stepped around a large sagebrush, and there was a door in the hillside. She looked more carefully and saw a small window, largely covered over with dry grasses. He pushed open the door, and she could see he’d have to duck to enter.
It was dark inside, the only light coming from the open doorway. She saw a wooden shutter blocking the small window she’d seen from the outside. The walls and floor, and—she looked up—even its ceiling were all dirt.
There was a small table with a hurricane lamp and a plate, bowl, and cup stacked together on it. Then, she saw a low bedstand with a thin mattress over the ropes. There was a single beam running across the ceiling and from it hung a pot, a serving fork and spoon, and a burlap bag. A three-legged stool sat stacked with newspapers.
She poked the burlap bag. It didn’t swing much, laden down with weight.
“Food staples, hung to try to keep the critters out,” Cal offered.
Amanda pointed to t
he stack of newspapers. “You must like to read. Is that the Bozeman paper?”
Cal smiled. “I do. It can get lonely out here and it’s a way to stay in touch with the rest of the world. There’s no Bozeman paper yet, though; I get one from Virginia City when I can. I’m collecting them, too.”
His voice took on an excited quality.
“I’ve been gathering materials, like these newspapers for insulation. Next month, I plan to start building a proper cabin. My friend J.B. will come over from Virginia City to help build. It’ll have two rooms. One for the kitchen and sitting, one for the family to sleep in, someday. Up until recently, I was part here, part mountains, and part Virginia City. I thought it best to keep it all less noticeable so I don’t find my possessions disappearing,” he said.
The word family stuck in Amanda’s head. She thought of the fiancée steaming upriver to meet her childhood friend-turned-mountain-man-turned-homesteader. She imagined starting a new life with this handsome and capable man in this most sublime place.
Amanda had been looking forward to a new, independent life in Virginia City with her brother. And she acknowledged to herself that she’d hoped she might meet a decent man to love and marry, to have a family with and to grow old with. She’d wanted these things in the abstract, but now, in this place, she could really see it, taste it. It wasn’t just her imagination or dreams; it felt tangible and real.
And that was because of Cal.
Amanda’s heart swelled even as her dreams dimmed. She could not wish in her mind for something other than what was in front of her. And she could not have what was there in front of her; Cal had a fiancée already.
Not only that, but he had a fiancée who was a wealthy widow. Cal was so proud and Amanda worried how a woman accustomed to finer things might perceive this dugout.
“Are you sure your fiancée will want to live here?”
“What?” Cal drew back.
Oh dear, she thought. That didn’t come out the way I intended.
“Is there a well? Have you built an outhouse? Your fiancée will probably want an outhouse this winter.”
She put on a smile and looked over his shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. She shaded her face as though the light coming in the doorway was too bright. She was surprised to find that encouraging him to make it more appealing for his fiancée made her feel bad for herself.
Amanda stepped around Cal but stopped in the doorway. Just then, the bright sun dropped under the horizon. There was still plenty of light in the sky.
“Will you show me where you will build the cabin? Right here?”
Cal just looked at her for a moment. She could tell she’d offended him, but he was too proud of his homestead to hold a grudge.
“I’ll show you.”
He led her behind the dugout, talking about the root cellar he’d already dug, the field he was clearing, and the crop he wanted to plant. Cal still looked like a mountain man, thought Amanda, but now he talked like a farmer.
Well, if he could reinvent himself, so could she. She’d find a way to start her new life in Virginia City, with our without her stepbrother’s help.
Chapter 13
“Oh my,” said Amanda.
Cal looked up from the campfire he was tending. The coffee was boiling and the bacon was sizzling, but it was nothing compared to the look on Amanda’s face. She had halted halfway between the dugout, where she’d spent the night, and the fire. She was staring at Cal. He had gotten up early to bath in the creek and shave. He had put aside his mountain leathers for his town clothes. His denim pants and plaid cotton shirt were crisp and clean, and he knew he looked a far cry from how he’d appeared the past few days.
And Amanda? She seemed to like it. He gave her a wide smile. That startled her out of her stare. Her face turned red and she focused on smoothing out the fabric at the waist of her dress.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. It’s been so long since I slept indoors... I was very comfortable. I felt safe.” She glanced over at his bedroll, still laid out on the ground where he’d slept. “Thank you for giving up your bed.”
“I was glad to do it,” Cal said. “Coffee?”
They left after breakfast for the short ride into town. Cal paused when they were a distance from the small cluster of buildings. He took out his binoculars and scanned the area. Satisfied, he placed them back into their leather carrier.
“Everything looks normal in Jacob’s Cross—” He corrected himself. “In Bozeman, I mean.” He was pretty sure some of his disgust at the name, or at least, the namesake, was apparent, but Amanda didn’t seem to notice. “I even see Smitty’s mules.”
“This is ‘town,’ then, is it?” she asked.
“What? Too small for you?”
“No, it’s just, I’ve heard,” she turned to look at him and, with his head turned, their faces were close together. She paused and started again. “I’d heard that thousands of men were pouring into the territory. I thought there’d be more to it. That’s all.”
He wanted to kiss her, he realized, looking at her lips so close to his own. He wanted to kiss her. A lot.
He pulled his head around and made a show of clucking his horses into position. Once he’d dropped off his supplies in town, he’d have no excuse to have Amanda keep sharing his horse. He was disappointed. As the horses started walking, he responded.
“They’re pouring in, but mostly to the mining towns. This isn’t a mining town. It’ll be a mining support town, and a rancher and farmer support town. I have high hopes for the area, and so do the founders.”
Cal found the growth and progress of Montana Territory exciting. With hard work and a smart head on his shoulders, men like him had unlimited opportunities there. The progress was exciting, usually; each visit into town, any town, brought new faces and new buildings with new businesses. But sometimes, well, sometimes he missed the natural order of the wilderness. Nothing seemed... nonsensical there, the way it sometimes did when people were involved. That’s why he was still part fur-trapper, part-miner, part-homesteader. He wanted only so much time spent around other people.
He wondered if Amanda could be the exception.
At this moment, though, he was more than willing to go into town... to see if he could find out what was going on with Amanda’s brother. And to know there were some good, sensible men he could depend on and not be at the mercy of an ambush again, out in the wilderness.
He steered Miss Molly and the trailing horse to a corral. He removed their ropes and put them inside. He and Amanda walked across the street to the hotel, though he was quite certain it also wouldn’t qualify as one by Amanda’s Eastern standards. But there were rooms for rent and that was sufficient.
He helped Amanda to get a room and arrange for a hot bath. At the door to the room, as he handed her satchels over, she said, “I’m looking forward to some time to myself. And I’m sure you’re glad to be rid of me for a while.”
And she closed the door in his face.
Ouch, thought Cal.
Cal hadn’t really wanted to leave her, even for a moment, but he didn’t want her spending any more time out in the open than necessary until they had figured out what was going on, and how to fix it. And it was best, he told himself, not to get too caught up in her situation anyhow. They’d probably figure out this was a case of mistaken identity and all would be well. She’d go work with her brother, at least until someone swept her off her feet. And it probably wouldn’t be a man who’d spent the last decade in the company of bears more than people, and one who was foolish enough to show her the dugout cabin she’d have to live in. The one that didn’t even have an outhouse. Yet.
He stomped down the stairs to the small bar set up in the dining room. Rob was still there, ostensibly polishing a glass while waiting for Cal. The slender, rope-muscled man was permanently tanned and permanently creased from a lifetime spent outdoors. His hotel and livery were concessions to his age and increasingly creaky bones. Cal liked him, and more im
portantly for today, trusted him.
“Rumor Rob! Good to see you.”
“And you, Cal. Usual?” He slid a small glass of amber whiskey across the bar top.
“Thanks.” He started to swig it as Rob settled into his let’s have a chat pose, both elbows propped on the bar.
“So, your fiancée upstairs... is she... is she the same one that was waiting on you in Gallatin City? Because I heard that one’s a brunette.”
Cal choked on his drink. He’d been hoping to postpone dealing with that situation a little longer. “No, and you’re going to have to keep that quiet.”
He explained the situation with the hairy mountain man threats. Rob’s face changed from eager gossiper to concerned citizen.
“I’ve got to keep them confused until I work this out. What do you know about Samuel Emerson?” At Rob’s quizzical expression, Cal added, “Big Em.”
Rob’s expression slipped past concerned to fearful. “Ohhh, your girl’s in a heap of trouble.”
Cal’s heart sank.
“Samuel was a barkeeper in Virginia City for about a day and a half, but he had the gambling bug and lost it quick. He started hiring out to shakedown miners. From there, he fell into Ned Bart’s posse. Then, things escalated.” Rob leaned in and lowered his voice. “They say he was Ned’s right-hand man before things went sour.” He glanced around before adding, “Before the Parker shootout.”
Cal leaned in and lowered his own voice to match. “Bob, I’ve been out of town for a bit. I haven’t heard about that.”
Despite his concern for talking about the criminal element, Cal could see Rob was pleased to have fresh ears for his story. There was a reason the fellow’s nickname was Rumor. He waved his glass in front of Rob’s eyes to get a refill before the storytelling commenced.
“Rumor had it that John Parker struck gold at his mine—big gold, I’m telling you—and was hiding it at his homestead. Ned led a group of his men to Parker’s place outside Virginia City. Parker, turns out, had hired a few fellows as guard. You know, last year’s Innocents were mostly caught and hung, but those robberies and killings are still fresh in everyone’s minds.” He nodded at Cal for agreement, and so Cal nodded back. It was true. “So, the two groups met and there was a shootout. Somehow, Big Em shot Billy Tremble.”