by Sara Luck
“All right,” Greta said, not opening her eyes.
Jana felt a little guilty leaving Greta all alone on their first day in Bismarck, but if they were going to survive until Reverend Kling’s group arrived, she had to find an income. Besides, Greta had to be as exhausted as Jana was after the long train trip. She hoped Greta would be able to sleep for most of the day and gather her strength.
FOUR
Stepping out of her room at the Custer Hotel, Jana walked down three flights of stairs until she reached the lobby. She had been so tired when they arrived last night that she hadn’t paid any attention to the lobby, so she took it in now. The floor was wide, unvarnished planks of wood, and much of it was covered with a patterned carpet of rose and gray. A leather sofa and several comfortable chairs were scattered about. At least three steam radiators were pumping out heat, though no fire was burning in the fireplace.
Jana walked across the lobby to the front desk. A man standing behind the desk appeared to be checking the hotel register.
“Is it Mr. McGowan?”
“It’s Tom.” The man smiled as he extended his hand toward Jana. “Especially if you’re going to be our guest for a while.”
“Well, that all depends . . . Tom. It depends on whether I get a job or not. Right now, I just want to make arrangements for my sister and me to spend another night here.”
“In Bismarck there’s plenty of work, especially for a pretty woman like you. We’ve got way too many men for the number of women we have. Oh, I should ask, do you have a man waitin’ for you?”
Jana almost answered immediately, but then she thought better of it. She didn’t want to complicate her stay until she was ready to move on to New Salem.
“I don’t have a man waiting for me, but I’m waiting for a man to arrive.” Jana’s answer was truthful, as far as it went, since she was waiting for Pastor Kling, though not in the way she supposed Tom meant.
“When will your man be here?”
“He’ll be here in the spring. I need to send him a telegram to tell him we arrived. Can you tell me where the telegraph office is?”
“It’s that little building just across from the railroad depot. Charley Draper can fix you right up. Now, how many nights do you expect to stay at the Custer?”
“At least for tonight. How much will it cost?”
“Like I said, it’s cheaper if you stay by the week.”
“And how much would that be?”
“I could let you and your sister stay here for five a week.”
Jana’s eyes opened wide, and a big smile spread across her face. “That settles it, Mr. McGowan, we’ll stay a week. Now I see your restaurant is closed. What time does it open?”
Tom looked down and began filling in the guest register to reflect the longer stay. “All right, it’s all taken care of.”
“Good. Now what about the hours for the restaurant?”
“Oh, Miss Hartmann, that’s not a restaurant, it’s a saloon.”
“Really? I’ve never been in one. May I look inside?”
“Sure.” Tom stepped out from behind the counter and led her to the swinging doors that opened into the saloon.
She saw about a dozen tables with chairs, and a long, polished wooden bar with a large mirror behind it. Shelves containing bottles of liquor ran across the bottom of the mirror.
“Why don’t you serve food?” Jana asked.
“We just never have.”
“Well, you should. Can you tell me where I can go to get a bite of lunch?”
“The Sheridan House has a restaurant. It’s that big building on the corner of Main and Fifth.”
“Thank you, Mr. McGowan. You’ve been most helpful.”
“It’s Tom.”
Jana smiled. He was her landlord, at least for the time being, so there was no harm in being nice to him.
Tom watched the pretty young woman leave, hardly able to believe that he had offered to let her and her sister stay for $5 a week. The usual rate was $2.50 a night, or $12.50 if you stayed all week.
He had just let this woman stay in his hotel for practically free because he thought that an attractive young woman would bring customers to his saloon if he could convince her to be friendly to some of the men. Nothing untoward, not every man was looking for a woman to bed. Some just wanted a woman to talk to. But quite obviously he had misjudged the situation. They were sisters, but they didn’t have the same last name. One of the women must be married, and this one said she was waiting for a man.
Well, at least he would have the pleasure of seeing her, and even speaking to her on occasion, over the next week.
The Sheridan House, where Tom had directed Jana, was also a hotel, and the huge, three-story brick building covered an entire block. An elegant, columned porch was in front. Jana stepped inside and bought a copy of the Bismarck Tribune before going into the dining room. She decided that reading the local paper would be the quickest way of learning more about the town, and perhaps there would be advertisements for openings.
Just inside the dining room, a slate board listed the lunch specials, and she had a hard time deciding if she wanted an elk steak, antelope stew, or fricasseed prairie chicken. She finally chose the prairie chicken since all the meat was new to her and perhaps the sauce that smothered the chicken would make it more to her liking.
The dining room was quite crowded, but she saw an empty table right in the middle of the room and moved to it. A waiter approached as soon as she sat down, and Jana ordered the prairie chicken. As she waited for her food, she began reading the newspaper.
She saw in the paper that tomorrow, Tuesday, November 7, was Election Day. When she was in Chicago, with its half million people, she had heard no mention of an upcoming election, but here in a town of less than three thousand people, it seemed to be the topic of conversation at every table within Jana’s earshot.
When Drew Malone entered the Sheridan House, he was greeted by a waiter, who escorted him to the table already occupied by his partner, Frank Allen. Frank looked up from his paper.
“Have you decided how you’re going to vote?” Drew asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from his partner.
“Not yet, but if we’re to believe the colonel, we shouldn’t vote for the Republicans or the Democrats. Have you read his editorial today?”
“I haven’t seen it yet. Is it bad?”
“Bad? Well, yes, it is bad. But it’s also truthful. Lounsberry put in print what we’ve all known for years. Both Richards and Griffin are pretty smart. They are business partners, but one runs as a Republican and one runs as a Democrat. That way no matter who wins, their gambling outfit won’t be touched.”
“Well, it’s got to stop. I’ll bet this Citizens’ Ticket Clement is pushing wins the whole shebang.”
“If it does, it’ll go a long way toward cleaning up the politics and . . .” Frank stopped in midsentence, then leaned closer to Drew. “Well, I’ll be damned. Guess who just walked in.”
“Colonel Lounsberry?”
“No, it’s the good justice of the peace himself, Mr. Richards in person. Let’s just watch and see whose votes he buys today.”
A rotund, swarthy man stopped for a moment just inside the door, looking around the dining room. Then he proceeded to every table, calling each person by name, smiling broadly, and shaking hands. At each of the tables, he left several tokens that could be exchanged for five cents in trade at the Palace Saloon, his place of business.
“There you go, boys,” he said magnanimously. “Stop by and have a beer on me.”
“Are you gettin’ a little worried, Judge?” someone called.
“About the election? Not at all.”
“You’ve got Colonel Lounsberry and the Tribune against you.”
“Why, if I didn’t have the paper against me, I’d think I wasn’t doing my job properly,” Richards replied, and a few of the customers laughed.
Richards started toward the table of an attractive you
ng woman who was sitting alone, engrossed in the pages of the newspaper.
“Frank, who is that woman Richards is approaching? Do you know her?” Drew asked, tossing his head toward Jana.
“I’ve never seen her before, but I like the way she looks. I’d say she’d make a good mama for Sam and Benji,” Frank quipped.
Chuckling, Drew shook his head. “I don’t know why I stay friends with you. You keep pushing, pushing, and pushing when you know I’ve got that taken care of. Mrs. Considine has been with me for almost two months now, and she’s working out just fine.”
“Oh, yes, the giantess,” Frank teased. “But then she’s not in the market for a husband, or so I was told. . . .”
Both men laughed uproariously.
Jana looked up from her paper when she heard the laughter. She saw two men sitting at the table nearest her, but she had been reading and hadn’t noticed them before. Of the two men, one in particular caught her attention. He had dark brown hair, was clean shaven, and had, from what she could tell from here, an athletic build. He was, she thought, a most attractive man.
Even as she was considering his attributes, a rather plump man approached her and stuck out his hand.
“How do you do, ma’am. I’m Jason Richards, and I’d like to ask for your vote for me in tomorrow’s election. I’m running for justice of the peace. Can I count on your vote?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Oh? And why not? I assure you, I can take care of any problem you might have.”
“You can’t solve my problem, sir.”
“Oh, but I can.” He reached into his upper breast pocket and withdrew something and placed it under Jana’s plate. “Now can I count on your vote?”
Jana looked down and saw a folded bill.
“No, sir.” She handed the money back to the man without looking at the amount. “Your money won’t buy my vote, because I can’t vote. I just arrived in Bismarck last night, so I’m not a resident.”
“Oh, my dear, in Bismarck, that’s not a problem. Take the money, and, remember, I’m Jason Richards, running for justice of the peace.”
“Thank you, but no. Even if I could vote, I don’t think I’d vote for you. If buying votes is the way Bismarck is run, I’ll find another place to live. Good day, sir.”
The smile left Richards’s face and he glared at Jana. “You’ve just made a big mistake, girly. Yes, sir, a big mistake, and you’ll be sorry. Because you see, I will win, and if you so much as step into the street in the wrong place, I’ll have you before my bench.”
“So be it. You’re not buying my vote. Good day, Mr. Richards.”
Jason Richards put a stub of a cigar in his mouth, then turned and stomped out of the dining room.
At the neighboring table, Drew had watched and listened with amusement to the entire exchange between the young woman and the rotund, despicable politician. He couldn’t help but think of the fairy tale he had read to the boys just a few evenings ago. Except in The Beauty and the Beast, the beast had some redeeming qualities. As far as Drew knew, Richards had none.
When Drew realized that she was turning down Richards’s attempt to buy her vote, his interest in her went beyond just finding her to be exceptionally pretty. He got up from his table and walked over to her.
Jana saw the handsome man from the other table come toward her, and she wondered if he, too, was going to try to buy her vote.
“Ma’am, I’d like to shake your hand, and on behalf of the honest people of Bismarck, I’d like to welcome you to our city. You are exactly the type of citizen we need in this town. I’m Drew Malone.”
“What are you running for?”
Drew laughed. “Why, nothing, ma’am. I overheard the way you handled our least favorite politician, and I wanted to tell you that I liked how you did it.”
“In that case, Mr. Malone, I’m Jana Hartmann.” She extended her hand, and when she looked up, she was struck by the man’s captivating blue eyes. For an instant, her gaze locked with his.
The other man who had been sitting at the table with Drew had approached, and he spoke to her, breaking the spell.
“Would it be an affront to you if we joined you? I’m Frank Allen. Mr. Malone and I are partners in the Allen and Malone Law Firm, and I believe I overheard you say you had a problem.”
“Did I say that?”
“You’ll have to excuse Frank, Miss Hartmann. Sometimes he tries to horn in on other people’s affairs when he has no business doing that.” Drew moved toward his seat at his own table.
“No, wait. You said you were lawyers?”
“Yes, we are,” Frank said as he grasped Drew’s arm to keep him from returning to their table.
“Then maybe you can help me.”
Both men moved to her table and sat one on either side of Jana.
“What can we do?” Frank asked.
“As I said to the rather disagreeable Mr. Richards, I just arrived in Bismarck. My sister and I came last night on”—she paused for a second before she continued, knowing that what she was about to say would speak volumes about her economic status—“the emigrant train. It is our intention to go next spring with a group of like-minded people to form the community of New Salem.”
“New Salem? Have you heard of that, Drew?”
“I believe it might be in Morton County, about thirty miles west of here. Would that be the place, Miss Hartmann?”
“I’m not sure. We are waiting for Pastor Kling from the German Evangelical Synod to arrive in the spring, and then we will find out.”
“Miss Hartmann, wait a minute, let me get this straight. You don’t have any idea where you’re going?” Drew asked.
“No.”
“But you do know this man who is in charge, do you not? Pastor Kling, I think you said?”
“I’ve met him.”
“But you don’t know him.”
“Ease up on her, Drew. She’s not in a court of law.” Frank laughed nervously.
“He’s right, Miss Hartmann, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you may have a point. I wanted to leave Chicago so badly that I really didn’t delve into all the particulars about New Salem.”
“You wanted to leave Chicago? Do you have a legal problem?” Drew asked. “Maybe we could help you.”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Jana lowered her gaze, breaking any eye contact with either man. She took a deep breath. “I left because of something I read. The Northern Pacific Railway published a pamphlet that said a woman could homestead in Dakota, and I thought I could do that.”
A broad smile spread across Drew’s face. “Well, now, that I can understand. There are hundreds of other women right now in Burleigh County proving up their claims. And if that’s your problem, we can help you.”
“Before I do that, I have another problem.”
“And that would be . . . ?”
“I need a job.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Bismarck is a boomtown right now with all the people moving in, and if we get to be the capital of the territory, there’ll be even more jobs. Have you ever worked before?”
“I taught school for three years.”
“You’re a schoolteacher, but you want to homestead? Proving up a homestead plot is hard work. Do you know anything about farming?”
Jana laughed.
“Did I say something funny?” Drew asked.
“I haven’t told you everything. I’ve been on a farm my whole life, except while I was away at college, but then I worked on the family farm anytime I was at home. My sister and I both know how to work.”
Drew smiled sheepishly. “That was my fault for making such an assumption. But as for a teaching position, I’m afraid all our teachers for this term are already contracted.”
“I thought as much,” Jana said, “but I’ll take whatever job I can get.”
“Maybe she can work at the new telephone exchange,” Frank suggested.
“That’s a good idea,” Drew s
aid. “I can take you to see Charley Draper if you’d like. He has a crew out putting up wires now, and the exchange should be up and running in a couple of weeks.”
“Charley Draper? Is he the telegrapher?”
“Yes, have you already met Charley? He runs the Western Union office, and now he’s started the telephone exchange.”
“No, I haven’t met him, but I need to send a telegram, and when I inquired, his name was mentioned. I’m surprised that you are getting telephone service in Bismarck,” Jana said. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”
“We aren’t exactly uncivilized out here,” Drew said, perhaps a bit more sharply than he’d intended, as he thought of his mother-in-law’s constant harping that either he move “back to civilization” or that she be allowed to raise the boys in Evanston.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to suggest otherwise,” Jana said.
“No, it was me. ‘Civilization’ is a sensitive subject right now,” Drew said. “As soon as we have our lunch, why don’t I take you to see Charley? I know he said he was looking for someone to help him run the exchange.”
“That sounds wonderfully kind of you. As I said, I planned to send a couple of telegrams, anyway.”
At well past noon, Greta Kaiser came down the stairs of the hotel with the dollar Jana had left clutched in her hand. She saw a man standing behind the front desk, but he was conversing with an elderly man, so Greta went to what appeared to be a restaurant. She stepped through the bat-winged doors, stopping immediately as she looked around in confusion.
This didn’t look like any restaurant she had ever before seen, though if she had to admit it, she hadn’t been in many restaurants. Not a soul was sitting at any of the tables in the room.
She wondered if she was too late. Had lunch already been served, and had she missed it?
A man wearing a white apron came through a door that led to another room. He was carrying a tray of glasses, and he stopped short when he saw Greta standing there, almost dropping the tray.