“It’s all a matter of reality,” Smoke said. “Yours and mine.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Apparently we have found a good trail, at least so far. But you may be right. We might wind up somewhere that is totally impassable.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Pueblo
Adele declared an open house on Christmas Eve. A huge, silver bowl was filled with eggnog, and cookies, fudge, pies, and cakes were laid out on the table beside it. Several of the town’s leading businessmen were present, though she had put out the word earlier the night was to be social only. None of her girls would be available for anything more than friendly parlor conversation.
One of Adele’s girls was playing the piano in the keeping room and a group of carolers, men and women, were gathered around it.
“God rest you merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember, Christ our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day,
To save as all from Satan’s power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.”
The Social Club was well decorated for Christmas, with staircase and fireplace mantel festooned with bunting and evergreen boughs. A large tree was decorated with ornaments and red and green rope, as well as candles. The candle flames were shielded by glass globes to prevent the flames from coming into contact with the pine needles.
“This is quite a party you are putting on, Adele.” Charles Matthews was president of the largest bank in Pueblo.
“If you can’t celebrate at Christmas, when can you celebrate?” Adele replied.
“You have certainly gone all out with the food. I don’t believe I have ever eaten so well. So far I’ve had cookies and a piece of cake. I thought I might try a piece of cherry pie as well, if I can find room. But I’m stuffed.”
“I feel a bit guilty,” Adele said. “Here we are surrounded by food, while up at the pass, an entire trainload of people are starving. And that includes Jenny McCoy, bless her heart.”
“Jenny McCoy? She’s on that train? Well, no wonder I haven’t seen her tonight. I figured she would be sitting on a sofa somewhere, holding court with her many admirers.”
“No, she’s been gone for the better part of a week now.”
“Gone to visit someone for Christmas, has she?”
Adele shook her head. “No. Mr. Matthews, are you not aware that she was run out of town by Judge Briggs?”
“Ha! You mean former Judge Briggs, don’t you? He’s in jail now, which is exactly where he should be. And no, I wasn’t aware. What do you mean she was run out of town? Why would that be? From what I know of Jenny McCoy, she has done nothing that would cause her to be run out of town. Why, she wasn’t even one of your girls. Not in the traditional sense. Unless there were certain, uh, special people who could enjoy her favors, of whom I’m not aware. At least, I was never able to do more than have a conversation with her.”
“There were no special people who could enjoy her favors,” Adele said. “For all the time she was here, she remained chaste.”
“Then what happened to cause Briggs to run her out of town?”
“She was hosting the Honorable Lorenzo Crounse, Governor of Nebraska, in the tearoom, when some armed brigands broke in on them. They forced poor Jenny to disrobe, then took a picture of her, sitting nude beside the governor.”
“Uh-oh. That sounds like political chicanery,” Matthews said.
“Yes, I’m sure it was,” Adele said. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Briggs was behind it.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment. Well, he won’t be doing things like that anymore. I expect he is going to spend a long time in jail.” Matthews chuckled. “And here is the interesting thing. A lot of his fellow inmates will be people that he put there.”
“What poor timing. If Briggs had gone to jail a week or so ago, Jenny would be right here, enjoying the party along with the rest of us.” Adele was quiet for a long moment. “Instead she is trapped on that train, starving to death.”
“Well, it’s too late to do anything about her being on that train, but we can certainly make it so she can come back to Pueblo,” Matthews said. “That is, if she wants to. After the shabby way she was treated, she may not even want to come back.”
“You are right about that. Jenny is a young woman with a lot of personal pride and self-confidence. Coming back to Pueblo might be about the last thing she has on her mind. But I think she ought to have to option to come back if she wants to.”
“Yes, well, I don’t know what made Briggs think he could run her off in the first place. But with him no longer on the bench, his order that she be run out of town is certainly without authority now. I tell you what, the mayor is over there. I’m sure he has the authority to vacate Briggs’s order. Especially since Briggs has been removed from the bench.”
“Oh, do you think so?” A smile of hope crossed Adele’s face.
“I not only think so, I’m so sure of it I’ll go ask him right now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
His Honor Mayor C. E. “Daddy” Felker, a man of rather imposing girth, was sitting on the sofa, squeezed between two of Adele’s girls. It was obvious he didn’t mind the closeness, as he had a big smile on his face when Matthews and Adele approached him.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Mayor,” Adele greeted.
“Yes, yes indeed, Merry Christmas,” Felker replied. “What a wonderful party you are throwing tonight.”
“It would be more wonderful if Jenny were here.”
“Oh, that’s right. She was forced to leave town, wasn’t she? Such a shame. She would have been a wonderful addition to the party.”
“She was run out of town by Amon Briggs,” Matthews informed.
“Amon Briggs. What a disreputable character he turned out to be,” Felker said. “I expect we will find that he was involved in a lot more chicanery than we even know about.”
“Mr. Mayor, you could undo some of the evil Briggs did,” Matthews suggested.
“Oh? And how is that?”
“You could vacate his order that Jenny McCoy be banished.”
“Do I have the authority to do that?”
“Who is going to tell you that you don’t? You are the mayor.”
“Yes.” Felker pounded his knee. “Yes, by golly, I am the mayor, aren’t I? You know, I believe I do have the authority to do that.”
“And will you do it?” Adele asked.
“Consider it done, my dear.”
Fifteen minutes later, Adele was at the telegraph office in the Denver and Pacific Depot. “I understand that we have been getting telegrams from the trapped train.”
“Yes, that is true. Mr. Bailey, the conductor, used to be a telegrapher and they have tapped into the wire.”
“Is it possible to send a telegraph to someone on the train?”
“Yes, we have already sent a few. Do you wish to send one?”
“Yes.”
“Who will be the recipient?”
“Jenny McCoy.”
“Jenny McCoy? You mean the young woman who was run out of town?”
“Yes, that is the Jenny McCoy I’m talking about,” Adele said pointedly.
“All right.” The telegrapher picked up a pencil and a pad. “What is the message?”
“Judge Briggs is gone. Mayor Felker says you can come back. I hope that you are willing to do so. And sign it Adele.”
“Very well. I’ll send it,” the telegrapher said.
As Adele left the telegrapher, she heard some carolers singing, and she stopped, just long enough to listen.
“Silent night, holy night
All is calm all is bright
’Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace.”
/> Adele stepped into the narthex of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Despite her profession, she was a very religious woman. Dipping her fingers into the baptismal font, she made the sign of the cross and thought back to when she had asked Father Pyron, the Episcopal priest, if he would accept her in his parish, and if she would be allowed to take the Eucharist.
“And why wouldn’t I allow it?” Father Pyron replied.
“Because I am a prostitute,” Adele said. “Well, I’m not really a prostitute, at least, not any longer. But I’m sure you know that I run a house of prostitution.”
“Have you considered closing it?”
“I have considered closing it. But if I did, where would my girls go? What would they do? They would wind up in cribs somewhere, barely eking out a living. And without my protection, some might even be killed.”
Father Pyron smiled. “You do have a powerful argument for your sin. But it has been suggested that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. ‘She whom Luke calls the sinful woman, whom John calls Mary, previously used the unguent to perfume her flesh in forbidden acts.’ And of course, we know that Mary Magdalene was present at the crucifixion, the burial, and the resurrection. So if Jesus could accept Mary, then who am I to deny you the rite of communion?”
That conversation had taken place two years ago, and Adele had been a regular parishioner ever since.
She walked down to the chancel, genuflected before the cross, then knelt at the rail, crossed herself again, and prayed aloud. “Please, Lord, be with Jenny and all the other poor people trapped on that train. And let her find it in her heart to forgive the town, and return.”
She crossed herself again, stood and genuflected one more time, then left the church. She walked back to the depot, on the chance that Jenny might answer the telegram.
On board the train
When the telegraph began to clatter again, Bailey hurried over to it to write down the message. “Mrs. McCoy. This message is for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who would be sending me a message?”
“It’s signed by the person who sent it,” Bailey said.
Jenny read the message, then felt tears welling up in her eyes.”
“Jenny!” Luke said. He hurried to her. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No. Something is right.” She smiled through her tears and showed the message to Luke. “It’s from Adele, and it looks like we might be able to have that dinner together after all.”
Luke read the message, then embraced Jenny.
“Mr. Bailey, can I send a message back to Adele?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bailey said. “What do you want to send?”
“I want to say, Thank you, Adele, so much for this welcome news. I am sure you had a lot to do with it, and I’m very grateful. And sign it Jenny.”
Bailey translated the message into telegraph speak and sent it on its way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
On the mountain
Smoke and Duff took turns pulling the sled. Unlike the first part of the journey where pulling the sled had been laborious, it trailed behind Smoke as easily as if it weren’t loaded. They followed the wide, flat path set out in front of them, amazed at how much easier it was to climb and how clearly it could be seen. The snow shimmered so brightly it looked as if it were being illuminated by lanterns.
Duff had never seen anything quite like it and he stared at it in curiosity. “’Tis a miracle of sorts, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, here it is, so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, and yet the path before us is glowing in the moonlight, almost as if it had lights of its own.”
“Yes. You could say it is a miracle.” Smoke looked at the old mountain man who was leading them. He was about twenty feet ahead of them, moving as easily if he were walking across a parlor floor. As before, there was an aura around him, an enveloping silver glow that looked, not as if it were shining on him, but as if it were coming from him. That same light spread out along the path they were following.
Smoke knew, of course, it wasn’t possible the light was coming from the old man. A full moon could be really bright, especially when reflected by the snow. No doubt what he was seeing was, as Duff had said, a reflection of the moonlight.
Smoke had climbed, hunted, and trapped on this mountain, many, many times in the past. He knew every inch of it as well as he knew his own backyard. But he had never seen a path like that, and had no idea how it had gotten there. He wasn’t one to turn his back on opportunity, though, so he kept putting one foot in front of the other, following the path that was making their climb incredibly easy.
“How much farther do you think it is to top of the pass?” Duff asked.
“Do you smell that?” Smoke called back to Duff.
Duff took a deep sniff, then smiled. “Yes. I do smell it. It’s smoke.”
“And not just any smoke. It’s coal smoke. That means we are very close now. I would say we are within a mile, maybe even closer.”
“I don’t know how you found this trail,” Duff said. “But it has certainly made our effort much easier.”
“I didn’t find it. Preacher did.”
“You have mentioned Preacher before. Tell me about him.”
“Preacher is as fine a man as I’ve ever known. One of the original settlers of Colorado, he came out here to live in the mountains when there weren’t more than two or three hundred white men within a thousand miles. He trapped beaver, lived off the game he took—bear, deer, elk, mountain goat.”
“Why do call him Preacher? Was he an ordained minister? A man of God?”
“He wasn’t an ordained minister, but he was, and I have to say is, definitely a man of God.”
“Aye, ’tis a pleasure when one can find such a man, and a treasure when you can call him your friend. You are truly blessed, Smoke.”
“Yes, I am.” Smoke looked back to the path in front of him, but the old mountain man was gone. “Where did he go?”
“Who, Preacher? What do you mean where did he go? I thought you said he had died.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s true. Preacher is no longer with us.”
They continued their trek up, following the path to the top of the mountain.
“What now? We’re at the top of the mountain, and there’s no train,” Duff said.
Smoke realized then that the path had taken them all the way to the summit of the mountain, to the very top of the cut, above the pass. Approaching the edge very carefully, he looked down and saw the train, or rather, what could be seen of the train, well below them. It was sticking out from a high wall of snow, almost like an arrow protruding from a target. Lights could be seen in the windows of the last car and the coal smoke they had smelled earlier was drifting up from the chimney.
“Come over here, but be careful,” Smoke said. “This is the top of the cut and there’s a sheer drop here.”
Duff approached, and Smoke pointed. “There’s the train.”
“Aye. ’Tis easy to see why they are trapped. There’s a mountain of snow in front of them.”
“And behind them as well. It looks to me like this train could be stuck here for a month.”
“How are we ever going to get them out?” Duff asked.
“Let’s feed them first, then we’ll worry about getting them out,” Smoke proposed.
“My word,” Duff marveled.
“What is it?”
“Look at the moon. I thought it must be full, but it’s only in its last quarter. Now, would you be for tellin’ me, how a moon like that could produce enough light to make our path glow as it did?”
“I don’t know,” Smoke admitted. “Maybe it was the way the snow was spread out, just right to reflect what light there was.”
“That can’t be it. I mean it was almost like the snow itself was lighting our way for us. I know that sounds strange, but if you will look back at the
path you’ll see what I’m talking about. It—” Duff paused in mid-sentence. “Smoke? The path!”
“What about the path? Is it still glowing?”
“There is no path!” Duff’s voice was laced with awe. “Look behind us, Smoke. There is nothing there but rocks and trees and snow. There is no path, lit or unlit. How did we get here? We could not possibly have come up that way.”
“You aren’t making sense, Duff. We’re here, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. We are here, which means there had to be a path. We just aren’t standing where we can see it clearly, that’s all. Anyway, what is behind us doesn’t matter. We still have to get down to the train.”
“Aye. ’Twould be a shame to have come this far, and not be able to go the rest of the way. There’s nothing now but the sheer wall of the cut. And even if we could climb down it, how would we get the sled down? If we show up without any food, we’ve just made the situation worse. We have to go on, or our trip has been nothing but a waste of time.”
“I am determined that it not be a waste of time,” Smoke declared. “We will get there, and we will deliver the food.”
“Aye, ’tis my belief as well that we will succeed. I dinnae think the Good Lord would be for bringin’ us this far if we cannae go on.”
“Let’s wait until sunup. I’m sure we’ll find a way. If nothing else, we’ll just push the sled over, then find a way to climb down.”
“I’m putting my trust in you, my friend. You haven’t failed us yet,” Duff avowed.
“I thank you for your vote of confidence, Duff,” Smoke replied. “I just hope I can live up to it. What do you say we take a breather for a while?”
“Good idea,” Duff replied.
The two men sat down in the snow and leaned back against the sled.
A Rocky Mountain Christmas Page 23