by Nancy Radke
“You did it,” the youngest said.
“Yes, you caught the crook.”
“And it warn’t the mill owner who was cheatin’ us.”
“That’s right,” I told them. “He didn’t like it none, that he was paying the wages and you folks warn’t getting all of it. Gave him a bad name.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“I don’t know. Toss the thief in jail, I reckon. Make him work off the money he stole. When they pay you all tomorrow, have them lay it out on that plank, so you can see that you’re getting the right wage.”
“He gave us two whole dollars each.”
“Yes. Put it in the bank, if you wish to save it to use later.”
“We don’t know how to use the bank. But we need dresses. One each. And a coat.”
“Then go get those things.”
“Would you come with us?”
“I can’t. I just started a job. But the landlady seems a motherly sort. See who she recommends to help you get your clothes.”
“And shoes. I’ve been patchin’ mine together.” She lifted one foot. The leather had thinned out so much I could see her socks through the holes.
“Make sure y’all buy your shoes first,” I told them. “Y’all can always keep wearing your dresses for a bit longer, but get some shoes that’ll hold you a spell.”
We got back to the boarding house and I took Travers out and let him have a long run. He’d been plenty of comfort to me whilst I was traveling the hills, but here in town he was purty big. It was a mite cozy with him in my room, cause he took up half of it.
Now I know he was well enough behaved or he wouldn’t have lasted long at the store. But his size and looks would scare a haunt out of its sheet. You wouldn’t want to meet him in the dark.
That night at supper the girls told everyone how I’d helped them get their back wages. “It were the man payin’ us. The boss shook him like a rag doll.”
“That he did,” I added. “He didn’t like gettin’ a reputation for cheatin’ his workers when he was payin’ the wages.”
“You going to work there?” the landlady asked.
“No ma’am. I’ve got an appointment to see a Mr. Debras at his offices. He might send me to California to do some work there for him.”
“Really?”
“Maybe. We’ll have to see.” I knew better ‘n to count my chickens before they hatched.
I wanted to go to California. I had a feeling I’d find my Boaz there. But preacher always warned us that feelings shouldn’t be our guide. So that night I prayed extry hard for God to lead me to my Boaz.
I showed up ready to work the next morning. Seems Mr. Debras shipped things to California, and from there on up and down the coast and to the Orient. We talked gross tonnage and barrels and kegs and crates and cartons. Each one its own poundage. Each costing separate to ship. Some things he shipped around the tip of South America through the Strait of Magellan, but the small stuff went by freight wagons and stagecoach. He showed me the routes on the map and I could see how it was cheaper and faster to send things overland. I got me a fast education and worked out some shipping manifests for him.
“This one’s wrong,” I said, pointing to one he’d had me do as a problem. “Whoever did this one didn’t add in the bales of cotton.”
He picked it up, looked it over. “You’re right. You just paid for your fare to California, Ruth.”
“Tell your clerks to always add the big items first. See what they’re going to cost. Then if’n they do make a mistake, it will be on the little things, and won’t cost y’all so much.”
“I’d like to have you work here and in California. But the big mistakes are being made in our California office, so that’s where I’m sending you. If you can be ready in the morning, I’ll send you up the river to Independence. The road boss will put you on the stagecoach.”
“Thank you. Got me a dog that came out of the mountains with me. Well behaved. Don’t want to just abandon him, although he looks to be part wolf and can take care of himself.”
“Take him with you. He can run beside the stage when he chooses, ride with the driver the rest of the time. He’ll keep you company in California.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Take the rest of the day and get yourself ready to go.”
Things seemed to be falling in place to send me to California, and right quick. Was this how God led?
I took Travers out for a long run and told him what we were about to do. I didn’t have a collar for him, but he figured things out and minded well, so I probably wouldn’t need it.
I got back to the boarding house just in time for supper. As I walked up to the porch, a long-legged gent untangled himself from the porch rocker and spoke as he stood.
“Ruth. Hello.”
3
“Gage?” His appearance was so unexpected, I hesitated.
Gage was dressed in dark broadcloth pants and a black shirt half unbuttoned in front. I’d never seen Gage look so handsome. I had to give my mind a hard shake.
This was Gage. Like a crow, he’d land for a bit, then fly away.
He stepped towards me and Travers bristled and growled low.
Gage stopped, looked at Travers. “So this is the dog they spoke about. Said you had a big one traveling with you. He is huge.”
“What you doing here, Gage?” I was flummoxed by his unexpected appearance.
“Thought I’d stop and see you.”
I was right. He’d come and would soon be gone. “How’d you find me?”
“Easy. They told me at the store about Travers, so I just kept asking about a big wolf dog and a young woman together.”
Well, that was one way to find me. But why? “You still on your way to California?”
“Yes. Sorta.” He looked down at Travers, who was giving him the once over. “He’s a bodyguard all by himself.”
“He is that.”
“I’m guessin you didn’t need much of a push.”
“Not much. First your Pa showed up talking about those big trees, then you talking about canyons and all, I decided it was high time for me to take a looksee for myself.”
“Would you like for me to take you to California?”
I laughed. “Well, you’re a little late for that. I’m leaving in the morning. I guess you could come, if’n you’re ready.”
He stared at me, bewildered-like. “You just got here. How’d you get a ride to California? You didn’t have the fare, did you?”
“No, sir. Got me a job. Man needs me to go to California and work out of his office there.”
“How’d you get a job so fast?”
“Asked.”
“We always thought you were shy.”
“Can’t stay that way when I’m on my own. People take advantage.”
“Here I thought I’d come protect you...”
“Got me a dog.”
“Take you to California...”
“Got me a job.”
“Keep you from getting scared.”
“No time to do that.”
“I underestimated you, Ruth. I think the whole mountain underestimated you.”
“I’m a Trahern, Gage. It don’t do for folks to underestimate us.”
“So I’m learning.”
“What you been up to?” I asked, for he was the last person I’d expected to see.
“Well, after Mary’s wedding, I went to New Orleans. Hadn’t been there before. There’s gamblin stakes there to scare your hair white. Too rich for me. I lit out just a jump ahead of someone who thought I’d cheated him. Hadn’t, but I wasn’t able to get him to see that. I headed to Ft. Worth, bought me a horse and started for California. Ran into your cousin, Matthew.”
“How’s he doing?”
“I was best man at his wedding. In Texas.”
“Really?”
“Yep. All you Traherns are getting hitched. He got himself a beautiful yeller-haired gal named Dawn.”
“Well, I
declare.”
“I decided it was time for me to start looking.”
“For what?”
“A wife. So I headed me back up to the hills...”
“Yes?”
“But you’d already left.”
“You went back home?”
“Yes’m. They said I’d missed you by less than a week.”
It would’ve been nice to have traveled with Gage at the beginning, when I was leery ‘bout traveling so far alone. Oh, well. What was done, was done. You can’t reshape a loaf once the heat hits it. “How did Jonas take my leavin?” I asked.
“He was sort of shocked, but said to tell you, if I ever caught up to you, that he’s asked Josephine to marry him. Evidently you told him to in your note.”
“Good. She was gettin right tired of waitin for him.”
“I take it you were gettin tired of waitin, too.”
“Sort of. I decided if I wanted a man, I’d best go lookin for him. I think California will do just fine. There should be some men thereabouts.”
“How about me?”
“I don’t know ‘bout you. Women might be scarcer than hen’s teeth. I figure there’s a lot more men in California than women.”
“You’ll be there.”
“Yes, I will. Well, you might find a gal there. I don’t know. When you finally make it to California, come by and see me. I’m working for the Debras Freight Company.”
I heard the dinner bell ring and headed inside. Gage followed me.
“I took a room here,” he said.
“It’s a good place to stay.”
The two girls showed everyone their new shoes. It sort of led into my meeting today with Mr. Debras. “So I’m headed for California in the morning. It was right nice meeting y’all.”
Gage spoke up. “A fellow is going to have to move mighty fast to keep up with you, Ruth.”
“Well, I hibernated on that mountain top for many years. I figure I need to move while I can.”
The two girls were mighty impressed with Gage, and kept asking him questions about the mountains and the different places he’d been. He told about taking the wagon train out with Trey and Mally. It was the first I’d heard details of it.
“So they’re still in Walla Walla?” I asked.
“Yes’m. They invited me to come live near them. Bring my ma. But now I’m fixin’ to take me a wife back there to live.”
“That would be nice,” I said.
After supper I sought out the landlady. “Could you give my extra nights to the two girls? I’d like for them to have them.”
“Of course. I hate to see you go, Ruth. You’re so levelheaded. Your young man must be quite upset, to see he’s going to have to follow you all the way to California.”
“Gage? He’s not my young man.”
“Maybe he’d like to be. Way he was askin for you when he arrived.”
“I’ve known Gage all my life. He was just lettin me know my cousin got married.”
She laughed as she gathered up the plates. “Well, if he wants you bad enough, he’ll follow you to California.”
“He was goin anyway,” I said, picking up the glasses and carrying them for her. “I expect I’ll see him there.”
“I expect so.”
I packed up my gear and laid out my clothes. The next morning I dressed, grabbed some hot coffee and a hunk of bread in the kitchen, then walked away with Travers at my side.
I didn’t see Gage, so decided he was sleeping in. That sealed it for me. If he’d ‘ave been halfway interested in me, he’d at least come out to see me off.
The streets were fairly empty, this early in the morning, and I walked along briskly with Travers at my side. I really appreciated that dog. I carried my rifle, but hadn’t had to even consider having to use it. Good or bad, men saw Travers and stepped aside.
I went to the staging area and Mr. Debras was there with my papers to give to his brother at the other end.
“Now that’s a dog worth havin’ around,” he said, admiring Travers.
“I think he was owned by a traveling peddler. He sure has good manners for bein’ so scary lookin’.”
“He’ll do you just fine in San Francisco. That town can get mighty rough. Be careful what he eats there, though, as some might try to poison him. Or steal him for dog fighting.”
“Thank you for the warning. I’ll watch out for him.”
I boarded the riverboat that was to take us to the jumping off place.
It was a smooth way to travel, paddling up a river, watching the banks as the miles passed by. I was soon at Independence and escorted to the stage station. We were fed a light lunch while our luggage was put onto the stage. There were nine other people going to California. All men.
Then the ten of us were loaded up like sacks of potatoes and the stage left. One man rode by the driver. There was hardly any room inside to move, as two of the gentlemen were quite portly and I had somehow become seated between them.
Three had to sit in the middle row, with no back to the seat and only straps to hold onto. We were so close our knees were jammed together and the men had to weave their legs to have room. Thankfully, mine were short enough not to have to do that.
I had tried to get Travers to let the men lift him onto the stage, but he was having none of it. We traveled for several hours with just a slight pause, not long enough for me to see what had happened to him.
When they finally let us out of that swinging, swaying, carriage for a short stop while they watered the team, I could hardly stand up. I immediately began to look around for Travers.
One of the outriders rode up to me. “He got tired, Ma’am, so I put him on the stage. Look up.”
I did. Travers sat atop the luggage, looking as if he owned it all.
“Oh, thank you,” I said. “I’m surprised he let you pick him up.”
“He remembered me,” the rider said. The voice was familiar, and I turned and took a closer look at the rider.
“Gage?”
“Yes’m.”
“What are you...? I thought I left you behind in Memphis.”
“Not unless you tell me to stay.”
He sat there atop his horse, with hat, boots, bandana, and chaps, looking so much the Western cowboy that I hadn’t recognized him, even though he’d tipped that hat to me several times during the morning. He was handsome enough to bring a dead polecat back to life, and my heart did a little flip.
But this was Gage, who was a rolling stone, handsome as the devil, and not responsible for anything except to break women’s hearts. I reminded myself of that and my heart just flopped right back down in place.
“Thank you. I was worried about him, but couldn’t do much about it.”
“Don’t fret. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of during the journey.”
“He must need water,” I said, looking back at Travers. He was panting, but looked more hot than thirsty.
“I gave him a drink before I put him up there. When they slowed down on that steep stretch a ways back. He should still be fine.”
I was impressed. Here I had been jostled and banged around between those two portly gents, worrying myself thin over Travers, and Gage had been a’seein’ to him all along. Just knowin’ someone was taking care of Travers made the thought of twenty-two more days of riding in that stage bearable.
I suddenly realized that Gage had been at the stage before me, loading it. That meant that he had had to take an earlier boat up the river. That also meant that he had not seen me off at the boarding house because he wasn’t there. I had misjudged him. He hadn’t been sleeping in, he’d been up and gone before me.
I watched him ride over to give the driver a hand. I’d never seen Gage work before, and I watched closely as he helped him water the horses from the shallow well set in the rocks.
The passengers climbed back inside the stage, taking the same seats as before. “Ruth,” I told myself, “you can either speak up, or spend the journey wedged
between those two gents, ready to pop like a trip on a trap.”
I stood on the top step and looked the situation over. The old me would have suffered in silence, but the new me straightened my backbone, put both hands on the plow, and spoke up.
“You two change seats, please,” I asked, splitting up the portly men so there was one on each side. “That’s better.” This time I was between the talkative portly man and one of the other gents, who was thinner and allowed me some breathin’ room.
“Would you like to sit by the window, Ma’am?” the thinner gent asked.
“No, thank you. The sides of this stage are mighty hard when the horses are moving full out. I can see enough, now that I know my dog is taken care of.”
“He looks part wolf.”
“I think maybe so. He’s a good traveler.”
“You knew one of our outriders?”
“Yes. An old acquaintance.”
“I’m Joshua Smithson. I’m writing a journal of the trip for my newspaper back east. My editor figured people would be interested in what it was like. If you could give me any quotes from a female passenger’s view, I’d appreciate it.”
“Well, you’d want to make sure your eyeballs were tied in, or you’d lose them.”
He started to laugh and the rest of the gents broke up, too. “That’s for sure!”
I never considered myself funny, so it did me good to see them enjoyin’ my comment. Part of it was the timing, for I’d said it just before the offside wheels dropped into a rut and just about swung everyone off their seat and onto the floor.
Once those gents got to talking, I heard a lot about different stage routes, river crossings, Indians and robbers. Seems one of those men had done a lot of traveling, and each of the rest, being in different trades, and had a story to tell. Even the talkative portly gent had been in a stage that got carried downriver. An outrider dropped a loop over him and popped him out like a calf being born.
“And I think I was just as wet. I hope none of that happens this trip,” he added.
“What do you make of the dust and the roughness of the country?” asked the newspaper man.
“You’re asking the wrong woman those questions. I’ve walked across Tennessee and part of Kentucky. Dirt don’t bother me. Neither does rough country.”