Lost in Laredo

by Vivi Holt

  Lotte sighed with relief. “That would be wonderful.”

  12

  By the time the noise of the camp had died down and the fires had been banked, Lotte had done her chores and was snuggled deep beneath several layers of blankets on her bedroll. The night air was frigid, and she shivered while waiting for the blankets to warm with her body heat. Antonio had told her it would grow colder the closer they got to Montana. She’d felt the change, and seen it in the colorful leaves on the trees. Autumn had arrived, and according to Antonio they didn’t have long to get the herd to Paradise Valley before the first snow fell.

  She rolled onto her back and tucked her hands behind her head. The children in Deirdre’s tent had only been rambunctious for a half-hour, but soon tired out and fell to sleep. She could hear Mr. Adler snoring loudly, the steady rhythm punctuating the quiet of the prairie and the sleeping campsite around her.

  She sighed and looked up at the stars overhead. They were so brilliant, so big and bright – they almost made her eyes hurt if she stared for too long. It made her feel small and yet vibrantly alive. She reached a hand toward the sky as if to touch one – they seemed to hang within reach, like the flame from a Christmas candle. She sighed as memories of winters in Holland flooded back. She missed her family, her home.

  Lotte rubbed her eyes – she’d never get to sleep this way. She threw back her covers and stood, shivering in the darkness. She picked up a blanket and wrapped it around her, then tiptoed from the camp circle. In the distance, she could see Hans, and Adam’s horse a little further off. In between them, hundreds of cattle milled around or dozed, emitting the occasional bawl or tossing a head in displeasure over something.

  She trotted around the outside of the herd until she reached Hans’ side. He stood with one back hoof tipped forward in repose and his eyes half-lidded. Beyond him, she found Antonio asleep in his bedroll. With a quick glance she noticed Adam watching the cattle – he sat astride his horse, whistling softly on the other side of the herd.

  Now that she was there, she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d wanted to see Antonio, and here he was – asleep. She couldn’t wake him – he’d want to know why, and she didn’t have a good reason, only that she hadn’t been able to sleep. She was confused about him, her future, everything, but she could hardly tell him that.

  She sat beside him, her blanket wrapped tightly around herself, then lay next to him. The ground was icy and the cold soon leached through the blanket, making her shiver and her teeth chatter. She rolled onto her left side to face him and watched him breathe slowly, the ends of his mustaches twitching gently with each exhalation.

  Her shivering worsened. She’d have to go back to her bedroll and the fire. Antonio’s campfire had burned low – perhaps she should add some more firewood? She stood and hurried to build the fire back up, then returned to her place beside him.

  As she lay down again, his eyes flicked open. “Lotte?”

  Her heart jittered. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing?” His brow furrowed, and he leaned up on one elbow and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  “I couldn’t sleep …”

  He chuckled. “So you thought you would freeze to death beside me instead?”

  Her nose wrinkled and she sneezed.

  “Ah … come here, then.” He lifted his blankets, and she squeezed in beside him, the heat from his bedroll immediately warming her. She snuggled next to him, her heart pounding, and he stroked her hair with one hand, pulling her close with the other. “So what is wrong with mi querida?”

  Her heart fluttered. “I just couldn’t sleep over there … without you.”

  He chuckled. “Oh.”

  “And, I was worried.” She leaned on one elbow to look down at him. “What happens when we get to Paradise Valley? What happens to me? I cannot stay at the ranch without you. You say you are going somewhere to check on something … and you suggest I should stay at the ranch without you. But I do not know these people. They will not want me to stay there.”

  He frowned. “I had not thought much about that. But if you are not comfortable staying behind without me, you could stay in Bozeman.”

  She sighed. “Yes, that would be fine.”

  “But I am sure Genevieve would love to have you …”

  “No, it is fine. I will stay in Bozeman.” She sighed again and lay back down with a huff. He hadn’t responded the way she’d hoped. Things between them still weren’t any clearer to her addled mind. What would she do in Bozeman besides wait for him? Did he expect her to find a job, support herself, build a life that didn’t include him?

  He kissed the top of her head. “What is it?” he whispered against her hair.

  She stared up at him, locking her gaze with his. “I do not know what I am to you. I am confused …”

  He kissed her, and her pulse skipped a beat. The questions and doubts in her mind drifted away, and she put her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into the long dark hair that had grown so much on their travels. His lips explored hers, filling her body with tingling from head to toe. He pressed down on her, running his hand down the length of her side over her nightgown.

  She pulled away and scrambled free of the blankets, gasping and tugging her own blanket with her.

  Antonio opened his eyes and reached for her. “Querida,” he murmured, “what are you doing?” he groaned.

  Lotte shook her head with a half-smile. “I’m … going back to my own bedroll. Pleasant dreams.” She turned with a happy skip and ran back across the dark prairie, his sigh hanging in the still air behind her.

  Antonio watched the tracks snake across the South Platte River toward a small town perched on the bank of the adjoining North Platte River. They’d reached Nebraska, and the railroad stretched east and west, two thin lines bisecting the prairie. His eyes narrowed – they’d have to camp on this side of the river with the cattle. The rest of the wagon train looked to be setting up camp just on the other side – some folks had already crossed it on a small ferry, and headed for the township.

  He frowned. Was it a town? It was more like a large tent city – he’d seen similar ones in the South, though smaller. Dirt-colored tents stretched across hundreds of yards, some larger than others.

  Adam rode up beside him as the cattle wandered in a circle where he’d turned the line in on itself to halt their progress. “What’re ya thinkin’, boss?” he asked, a stalk of grass poking out the side of his mouth.

  Antonio scratched his scalp. “Let’s set up camp here for the night. We can cross tomorrow and follow the North Platte River up into Montana Territory.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Antonio slapped his hat back on. He’d been here before, though the last time there was no town perched on its banks, and no railroad scarring the prairie either. He wasn’t sure if Nebraska had even been a state then. Progress sure happened fast in the West. He spun Hans around and headed for the chuck wagon.

  Lotte had already climbed down from the wagon seat and was watching him. His heart pounded at the sight of her and he took a quick breath. His feelings for her had snuck up on him like a coyote at night. He’d buried himself in grief for so long, simply surviving each event in his life, that he hadn’t noticed when things changed between them. It may have been that first kiss – he hadn’t planned it, but it had certainly occupied his thoughts on the long road north.

  So had pondering over what he’d do once they got to Montana. He now had a deed to a homestead, a place of his own. But did he want to leave Paradise Ranch, his home? The people there were his only remaining family. If he left them to live by himself on a homestead who knew how far away, what would become of him? He could turn into a miserly recluse with no friends, no family, nothing but an old bay horse, and a buckskin mare, as companions. He chuckled and rubbed his mustache as Hans slowed to a walk.

  Then there was Lotte – where did she fit into his life, his future? He didn’t know what she wanted, but he knew that she deserved mor
e and better than he could give. He was only a shell of the man he’d once been. She deserved to find someone fresh, young and full of life, not a beaten-down man like him.

  He pulled Hans to a stop by the chuck wagon.

  “What’s up ahead?” she asked.

  “A tent city between the rivers, a big one. And the railroad goes through there as well.” He sniffed and shook his head.

  “I could use a day in a town. I’ve seen nothing but cattle and prairie grasses for weeks. Do you think I could take Elmo and go?”

  Antonio frowned. “By yourself?”

  “Well, perhaps the Adlers are going. I can ride ahead and ask her.”

  He nodded. “That would be fine. But take your Derringer – you never know what might happen in a place like that. And stay with Deirdre and Frank.”

  She nodded, and he caught a glimpse of excitement in her eyes. He was glad – she should have some fun. She was a young woman whom life had robbed of the pleasures of youth, but perhaps she could enjoy a nice day in town with her friend. Though it didn’t look likely to contain much that would appeal to her.

  When she emerged from the back of the chuck wagon, she’d changed into a blue poplin dress with tiny roses running up and down the fabric, and with a bonnet in place of her ten-gallon hat. She’d brushed her hair until it shone and wound it into a chignon at the base of her head. His eyes widened. “Oh my! You look beautiful, mi querida.”

  She smiled shyly as she saddled Elmo. “Would you mind picketing the mules? I would really like to go so I can catch the Adlers before they leave without me.”

  He nodded and dismounted. “Of course.”

  As Antonio loosened the harness over the mules’ backs, he hummed a happy tune. When he looked up to speak again, she was gone, Elmo’s hooves pounding the ground as he galloped away.

  Lotte stayed close to Deirdre. They’d picketed the horses just outside town before crossing the South Platte River on a rickety ferry – and drenching the hem of her good dress. She dabbed at it with a handkerchief, chastising herself for not knowing better than to wear it to a tent city in the middle of nowhere. She frowned and tightened her grasp on Deirdre’s arm.

  “Ouch.” Deirdre laughed and patted Lotte’s hand. “Everything will be fine, Lotte dear.”

  Lotte nodded, but she felt far from fine. The town was rowdy and full of young, dirty men, many dressed in tattered soldier’s uniforms. Some leered at her, others staggered around with hands firmly clamped around bottles. Still others disappeared into small tents, hands jingling the change in their pockets. She chewed her bottom lip. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea. Suddenly the idea of sitting on the open prairie beside Antonio was more appealing than ever.

  Then she spied a stall selling riding pants, hurried over and ran her fingers across the merchandise.

  “Can I help you, Miss?” asked a young woman with a smile.

  She nodded. “I could use some riding pants.”

  The woman’s smile broadened. “I think we have just the thing.”

  By the time Lotte had selected a pair in her size, Deirdre and Frank had wandered ahead to a large tent with a long dirty roof and canvas sides draped over wooden poles. Raucous laughter and the clinking of tin cups emanated from within, and Lotte hurried to stand by Deirdre, who stared at the tent, mouth ajar.

  “It must be a hundred feet long,” said Frank, twirling the ends of his mustache.

  “I’ve never seen such a big tent,” Deirdre agreed. “I went to a circus once, and maybe it was almost this size, but it was round so it’s hard to say.” Her eyes widened as she spoke.

  Lotte stepped toward the tent, lifted up a wall flap and bent down to peer beneath it, then let it drop. “It is just a big beer hall – chairs and tables and lots of drunken men and a stage up front with a piano.”

  “A piano?” marveled Frank. “Hmmm …”

  Deirdre frowned. “Oh well – let’s keep moving. I was hoping we might buy some supplies, but I haven’t seen a grocery store yet.”

  As they walked, they heard the unmistakable puffing of a steam train approaching. The station was just up ahead, distinguishable from the rest of the town because it was a sturdy building, with wooden walls and a tin roof. They stopped to watch the train, black steel shining under the midday sun. It clanged and banged, hissed and huffed as it pulled into the station and soon a torrent of people poured out of the cars, down the station’s stairs and into town. Others boarded, some calling farewell with tears as they climbed through its narrow doors.

  “Look, there’s a sign – land for sale!” declared Frank. He walked toward it, and Deirdre and Lotte followed. It read:

  UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD – LAND FOR SALE

  $5 Per Acre – 1/4 Down + 3 Annual Installments

  10% Discount For Cash!

  Lotte scanned the street and saw people from the wagon train lined up at the Union Pacific stall to speak to the representatives. On the other side of the street, another sign declared:

  LAND FOR THE LANDLESS! - - HOMES FOR THE HOMELESS!

  MILLIONS OF ACRES AVAILABLE TO BRAVE PIONEERS

  COURTESY OF THE U.S. DEPT. OF THE INTERIOR

  Union Civil War Veterans - Come Take Your Homesteads Near The Railroad!

  STAY FIVE YEARS – GET THE LAND FREE!

  BUY SOONER FOR $1.50/ACRE!

  Unmarried Women May Also Apply.

  Another line of men and women from the wagon train waited in front of that sign to speak with a man dressed in a black suit and bowler hat – from the government, no doubt. It seemed everyone would own land. Everyone but her. She and Marcus had planned on homesteading on the frontier for five years to get their own property, but that dream was dead. She didn’t know where Antonio stood on the subject, but he seemed to love the life of a cowboy. And cowboys didn’t own land, build homes and raise families, did they?

  The sign did say single women could apply, and perhaps she should. It might be the only chance she’d get to own her own home. Who knew how long the government would be giving land away? It was obvious from the number of people who’d disembarked from the train that day alone that it wouldn’t be long before the empty windswept prairies would be packed with people from all walks of life and every nation under the sun.

  She frowned and crossed her arms. Did she dare? Could she live on her own? And what about Antonio? Perhaps she should talk to him first, see what he thought. He might even decide to stay as well.

  She glanced around the town and noticed for the first time how poor some of the townsfolk looked. A woman squatted outside the beer hall, a pan in her outstretched hands, her dirt-covered face wrinkled beneath the hot sun as she begged for coins. She wasn’t the only one – people were begging for money or food, dressed in rags, collar bones protruding from beneath soiled shirts and gowns.

  “’Scuse me, Miss?” said a young voice behind her.

  Lotte spun around, one eyebrow up. “Yes?”

  A girl stood there, hands raised high holding a small bowl. “Do you have a coin or two you could spare? Sure am hungry, Miss.”

  Lotte’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course. Here you go.” She pulled out her purse and dropped three coins into the girl’s bowl. “Tell me, why are there so many people hungry in this town? We passed thousands of bison on the way here, and there are hares galore on the prairies, and deer and prairie dogs and all manner of fresh meat just waiting to be hunted. The soil is fertile, the land is free – what happened that so many are hurting?”

  The young girl grasped the coins eagerly and shoved them into a pocket. She smiled, revealing a gap where her front teeth should have been. “You didn’t hear? There was a plague – locusts, like in the Bible. They ate everything.”

  Lotte’s eyes widened in surprise. “Locusts?”

  “Yep.” The girl tugged one of the coins from her pocket and turned it around in her fingers, admiring its sheen. “Thanks, Miss.”

  Lotte smiled and squatted in front of the child. “What
is your name?”

  “Aurora.”

  “That is a pretty name. Where is it from?”

  “Italy. That’s where my folks were from. But I was born here in America.” She returned the coin to her pocket.

  “Oh, I see. Where is your family?”

  “They’re dead.” The girl said it without emotion, though her eyes shone and she swallowed hard.

  Lotte’s heart fell. “What happened to them?”

  “Papa had a homestead. It was a real fine one. We were happy to have land and a home. Papa built it, you know, our house. It was a sod house, with grass on the roof. He borrowed money and bought all the wheat seed he could get and planted it and it grew tall and strong and he was so excited – said it would be the best crop anyone could imagine. And then the locusts came and ate every last thing, even the stalks, even the grass on the roof.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Yep. We ran out of food and Papa wasn’t so good at hunting. They gave me the best of what we had left to eat. Then one morning Papa was cold and stiff as a board, and the morning after that Mama was. So I came here to North Platte. Folks here are real kind – they give me food sometimes. It’s better than staying on the homestead with Papa and Mama dead.”

  Lotte’s eyes filled with tears, and she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to dry them. Aurora was so strong, so full of life. She’d endured so much at such a young age, it was hard to imagine how she’d managed to survive at all.

  Aurora wiped Lotte’s cheek with her grimy fingers. “Don’t cry, Miss. I’m all right.”

  Lotte laughed, but her voice broke anyway. “You sure are. You are a tough little girl and I am proud of you. Your Papa and Mama would be proud of you too.”

  The girl blushed and ducked her head. “Do you think so?”

  She squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “I know so.”

  “Do you have a daughter?” asked Aurora, looking back up at Lotte.