by S. C. Wilson
Buck’s whiskery chin brushed against her cheek, offering a welcome reprieve from her thoughts. She scratched away the tickle and released a slow and steadying breath, trying to calm her rising anxiety before swinging up in the saddle. There was no quelling the inner fear as she rode out of Big Oak for the last time.
It wasn’t long before Jesse and Toby were riding on cracked and bumpy terrain. Green meadows gave way to stunted bushes and prickly, flowering plants. The countryside seemed to consist of dirt as far as the eye could see, everything dry, dying, or dead. Wilted scrub and withered trees, all in shades of brown and ashen gray dominated the landscape. It was a far cry from the lush vegetation growing in the foothills of Mount Perish. A hawk screeched and circled overhead, searching for anything skittering through the underbrush. Poor bird is going to starve to death looking for food here, Jesse thought. She hoped San Francisco didn’t look so barren.
The brash call of the bugle sent a tingle down Jesse’s spine. They’d arrived in Lagro. Situated at the base of a canyon, the station was one long building with a brown-thatched roof. The surrounding walls of layered rock, towering in shades of gray and brown, added to the place’s isolated and sad ambiance. It would be their only option for an overnight stay, or they could choose to ride through the night once the stagecoach horses had been switched out for fresh ones. Either way, the two couples had just forty minutes to have a bite of food and make their decision.
Inside, they sat on a narrow plank bench at an oversized pine-board table. Dark patches spattered its top, tokens of previous travelers. Large tin platters, battered from years of abuse, sat spaced along the tabletop. Some were piled high with what appeared to be fried pork resting in hearty puddles of grease. Others had been heaped with biscuits, dry as the surrounding landscape.
Abby, motion sick from the last hour of the trip, couldn’t bring herself to eat. Simply looking at the food made her stomach roil. She leaned over and whispered in Jesse’s ear. “I don’t want to stay here. Do you feel up to riding through the night?”
Jesse felt lighter. The odd building squatted in the middle of nowhere gave her a bad feeling. She swatted at a fly, keeping the bug from landing on her plate and said, “I don’t want to stay here either.” She shifted Jim on her lap and looked over the table at Toby and Aponi. “You two want to keep going? If not, we’ll stay here tonight. It’s up to you.”
Aponi looked at Toby, her exceedingly anxious facial expression giving away her thoughts before she spoke. “I don’t want to stay here, but I will if you want to.”
Toby smiled. “Let’s keep going.”
Jesse nodded and swatted away another fly, or maybe the same one. “We best hurry up and eat before the flies beat us to it.”
Abby shifted her body away from the food. “You go ahead,” she said. “I don’t want to eat. Besides, I need to feed them.”
Jesse started to stand, but Abby stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You just stay here and eat. I’ll be fine.”
“You need to eat too,” Aponi said.
Abby gave an involuntary shudder. “My stomach isn’t doing well. If I eat that,” she said, pointing at the greasy slab of meat, “I’ll be sick for sure.” She stood and repositioned Gwen on her hip.
“Stay close,” Jesse said, reaching out to give Abby’s hand a sympathetic squeeze.
“I’m just going to step out back. Besides, I could use the fresh air.”
“You start feeding her and I’ll bring him out when I finish,” Jesse said.
Abby took Gwen outside and fed her in the privacy offered by the station’s shadow, while Jesse gulped everything down as fast as she could. It wasn’t the kind of meal for enjoying, anyway. Before heading out back she snatched one of the last remaining biscuits. It would be a long night, and Abby may want it later.
Jesse pulled on Buck’s reigns, bringing him to a halt. The leather saddle squeaked beneath her when she turned to look behind. Mount Perish, an ever present and towering part of her life had been shrinking with each passing mile. Watching the transformation somehow made leaving more real. The mountain looked wonderfully bright and beautiful in the last throes of daylight and she stared at it, sad and fearful, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Toby rode back to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shifted her weight in the saddle. “C’mon, let’s go.” With a nudge to Buck’s flanks, she and Toby were off to catch up with the stagecoach yet again.
She glanced over her shoulder one last time. The sky—a dark, purple-grey bruise—erased the mountain from her sight.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the sun had set, taking with it the heat of the day. The sun-bleached landscape took on a milky-white glow in the light of the silvery moon as they continued onward.
After the second of two quick stops to switch out spent horses for fresh ones, the driver brought the stagecoach to a stop in the middle of the dirt road. Dark clouds had rolled in, heavy and pregnant with rain. He lit the lanterns hanging on hooks at the front of the stagecoach. They continued on at a much slower pace, the glow from the lanterns barely penetrating the blackness stretched out before them.
Jesse struggled against fatigue, willing her eyelids open that grew heavier by the hour. Silently, she sang the song Abby had written for their wedding. Over and over the melody played, a music box in her mind as she traveled in the wake of her family. Her mind raced throughout the night ride, its pace matched by Buck’s steady hoof beats. She thought back on Sarah, one of many young girls forced to sell themselves to survive. She had wanted to do something, anything to help her and her situation, but Abby told her it was common for women and girls to sell their bodies to paying men. Abby forewarned her there would probably be more of that where they were headed and she needed to realize it was sadly the way the world was. Jesse pushed the disturbing thoughts from her mind and tried to focus on the positive things she had heard about San Francisco—the big city—their future home. In reality, she had no idea what it would be like. In her mind, she envisioned a place bustling with new and interesting things for her to experience.
As the first bands of sunlight crept across the sky, Jesse peeked over her shoulder. No sign of Mount Perish. Something sank in the pit of her stomach. The mountain had been the only constant in her life, a presence never more than a glance away. Now it had slipped below the horizon, taking with it the life she had known up until now.
Jesse jerked in her saddle at the sound of the bugle blast announcing their arrival in Cottonwood. She was thrilled to be there—anywhere. Exhausted, she desperately needed a break, as did Titan and Buck.
Pulled alongside a second stage, men had already begun shifting loads from one to the other. They rushed against the storm that threatened with dark clouds flying in their direction. Their current driver and stage would be returning to Ely. On the next leg of the trip, they would be on a different stagecoach with a new driver.
“How’d they do?” Jesse asked Abby as she stepped down from the stage, Jim in her arms.
“They got fussy last night, so I fed them some tiny pieces of biscuit. It helped because it didn’t take them long to fall back asleep. They just woke up when they heard the horn.”
“You have to be starving.” Jesse reached out to take Jim.
“I am,” Abby said. She pointed to the dark clouds off in the distance. “Looks like rain is coming.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, too. Come on. Let’s go inside and get you something to eat.”
The group went into the large farmhouse. A few people from the earlier stage were already eating at tables, ones much cleaner and more appealing than those at the last stop. The aroma of frying bacon filled the room, prompting Jesse’s stomach to growl.
A woman approached. “Ma’am, you can use that room there to feed your youngins if you want,” she said, pointing to a side room.
“Oh. Thank you.”
Jesse turned to Toby and Aponi. “You two go on and g
et something to eat. We’ll be right back.”
Sitting in a well-used rocker, Abby fed Gwen, soothing the fussiest baby first. When she finished, Jesse took Gwen out to the well to change her. Holding her with one hand, she cranked up the bucket with the other.
Aponi came out to help. “I can do that for you,” she said.
Jesse smiled. “You go on and get something to eat. I can manage. We’ll be in soon.”
Aponi walked back around the corner of the house. She stopped short when a man stepped in front of her, blocking her path. His dusty clothes had taken on the bleak color of the trail. He looked her up and down as the corner of his mouth turned up, half smirk, half sneer. “Well, look at that,” he said to his companion, a gaunt man leaning up against the porch post. “A real live injun squaw.”
Aponi’s body trembled. She stayed silent.
The man leaning against the post stood up straight, grabbing the top of his head as if protecting it. “Best keep an eye open. She’ll cut off your scalp when ya ain’t lookin’,” he said, squinting through the smoke of the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
Aponi’s heartbeat hammered in her ears. She flinched, her feet coming off the ground, when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.
“Go inside,” Toby said.
She made no effort to move.
“Well, lookit that. We got us an injun lover,” the stranger said. He pulled the bent, hand-rolled cigarette from his lips with dirty fingers and spat on the ground.
Toby was used to this sort of harassment and had always thought it best to keep his mouth shut. In the past he would have cowered—let them give their licks. He wanted to be a different man now. Jesse told him his size alone was enough to deter most men. His sister’s words rang through his head as he squared his shoulders, rolled up his sleeves, and walked toward the men. Inside, his heart tripped, but on the outside he presented himself as a fearless man who didn’t take crap from anyone.
The man had to look up to meet Toby’s eyes, as Toby stood half a head taller. “Now, keep your shirt on,” the man said, flicking his cigarette onto the ground. “No need to get into fisticuffs ‘bout it.” He turned toward his friend. “C’mon,” he said, walking off. “We got work to do.”
Toby was stunned. For the first time in his life he had stood his ground. Jes was right. Maybe things would work out all right after all. A sense of relief came over him as he took hold of Aponi’s hand. He led her back inside, feeling ten feet tall.
Babies changed, Jesse and Abby finally sat at the table next to Toby and Aponi. Neither had any clue about the confrontation that had taken place.
They ate a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a hunk of bread, all washed down with a cup of chicory coffee. It was the darkest, strongest coffee Jesse had ever had. It tasted glorious. They hadn’t yet finished eating before the driver announced it was time to leave.
Jesse, saddlebag draped over her shoulder, reacted when she felt someone’s hand on her. Without looking or thinking, she grabbed the offending wrist.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean no harm,” an older woman said. Jesse loosened her grip as the woman continued. “I just wanted to say I think it’s lovely you help your wife the way you do. Charles here,” she said, tilting her head toward the old man standing next to her, “wouldn’t change a baby if his life depended on it.” She chuckled.
“Come on, Harriet,” the old man said. “Don’t bother them.” He led her away by the arm.
Jesse and the old woman exchanged smiles as her husband escorted her out the door and toward the stage bound for Ely.
Jesse shoved one last bite into her mouth, washed it down with a large swig of coffee, and headed to the stage. She looked up at the new driver. “How much longer until we get to San Francisco?”
“Depends on the weather. If that storm doesn’t cause us any trouble and nothing holds us up at the next few stops, we should be there in seven hours.”
Jesse nodded. She swung up in the saddle as a bolt of lightning forked across the sky. She winced, not from the crack of thunder, but from the pain racking her already-sore muscles. She prayed nothing would delay them. She was dirty, tired, and more than ready to get there.
Chapter Eighteen
They reached San Francisco in the afternoon, and Jesse followed the stagecoach as it rolled through the city. Despite being road weary and saddle sore, she was awestruck by her surroundings. Her head swiveled, like a weather vane in a storm, as she took in all the sights. The fatigue of the road evaporated when she thought back to her first trip to Ely. It had been merely a watering hole compared to this place. She remembered standing in the middle of the street, nearly run down like some lost child. That same feeling of naivety weighed on her again as she rode further into the sprawling city. She hoped she had made the right decision by leaving the mountain.
A bustling mix of faces and races in all manner of dress passed by, unseeing as they hurried along, scuttling through the maze of streets branching off of the main road. Unlike Ely, where everyone knew each other and often stopped to talk, the throng here moved along frenzied, anonymous, rarely speaking. They scattered like worker ants in all directions. Though Jesse noticed little interaction among them, the din all around her was surprisingly loud. It was as if the whole of the city was a busy night at The Foxtail.
Down an alleyway, several men stood at the back of a wagon. Jesse watched them wrestle a large barrel down a plank and through an opening into the side of a large, brick building. Their shouts, mingled with clomps from their booted feet on the wooden sidewalk, was an abrasive song with a drunken, chaotic rhythm. With her attention diverted, she barely managed to pull back the reins when a boy ran out in front of her. His small, filthy hand clutched a shiny red apple. She twisted in the saddle, watching as his dirt-smudged face mixed into the crowd behind her. Up ahead, angry shouts drowned out those of the barrel-hauling men. An older gentleman, white apron strings dangling, stood in front of a storefront waving his fist and yelling, his thick mustache twisting like some out of control caterpillar. She couldn’t understand most of what he said in his heavily accented voice, but two words came across quite clearly: “Stop! Thief!”
The bellowed admonition fueled the boy’s flight. Jesse watched as he frantically elbowed his way through the throng of people and disappeared. She wished she could vanish so easily. The clamor of the place was too much for her and she had to fight the urge to turn Buck around and let him carry her back to the relative calm of Mount Perish.
She caught sight of her brother up ahead. The look on his face told her he was feeling the same, probably worse. She could not imagine the memories triggered by being surrounded by people. For all she knew, he had been forced to steal much like the boy with the apple. Never again, she thought. She swallowed her fear and nudged Buck to close the distance with the stage.
No breeze stirred, yet she could still smell a hint of salt in the air, even above the stench of so many bodies pressed together. She focused her attention on the buildings crowding each side of the wide street rather than the swarm of people pushing in on all sides. A shimmer towered into view when she turned a corner. Before her stood the tallest, most ornate building she had ever seen. She had to crane her neck to see the entire façade, inlaid with high-arched windows of multi-colored glass fragments.
A clanging echoed through the streets, distant but loud. She twisted in the saddle again, using her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. She could make out the tops of sails on the clipper ships docked out in the bay. The crying of gulls circling overhead announced her proximity to the ocean.
The trip had been exhausting. In many ways the city felt more dangerous than the mountain. At least there she knew what to watch for. Here the unknowns seemed to be all around her, closing in, making her feel powerless. Still, she’d seen enough already to know this was what she wanted for her family. She knew if they’d stayed on the mountain her children would grow up to be fiercely
independent and self-reliant. She wanted more for them than that: education, culture, and a better chance at finding love someday. She would make the trip a thousand times to ensure the twins had access to everything the world had to offer.
At last, the stage rolled to a stop and Jesse and Toby tied their reins to a hitching post outside the depot. Jesse hurried to meet Abby as she stepped off the stage. One look told her she was spent.
Although Abby tried, she couldn’t quite force the thin line of her mouth into a true smile. Jesse searched for any happiness in her eyes, but the puffiness rimming them was too dark to penetrate. Jesse hoped they didn’t have much further to travel. They were all in desperate need of rest.
“’Cuse me, suh?”
Jesse turned to find herself face-to-face with the largest man she had ever seen, towering even over Toby. “Yes,” she said, craning her neck to meet his gaze. Not only was he the tallest man she had ever seen, but also the first black person she had ever spoken to.
“You be Mr. McGinnis?” he asked, his voice a deep but gentle rumble.
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Suh. I’se Cuffy. I’se to bring you to the Bowman place.”
“Nice to meet you, Cuffy. This is Mrs. McGinnis. And that is my brother, Toby, and his wife, Aponi,” Jesse said, gesturing to her family.
Cuffy made no move to shake hands, but instead nodded greetings. “I’se needs your bags.”
“The trunk is all we have,” Jesse said, moving toward the stage. “We can get it.”
“No suh,” Cuffy said, reaching over her. “That’s what I’se do.” He lowered the heavy trunk onto the ground to get a better hold, the sunlight shimmering in beads of sweat on his bald head. “Come wid me.”