by Nancy Radke
“He took a herd north and sold it.”
“I remember.”
“And Mally had some she inherited from her uncle. They had enough left to pay me, and buy supplies. Would you like to go see their place?”
“I suppose so. I got to see California first.”
Night fell and we dropped down into some forested area. In them trees, it was darker than the inside of a wolf’s mouth at midnight. The men took the lanterns off the stage, then took turns walking ahead of the mules to light the way. The road was narrow in places, with a sheer drop off on one side and a high bank on the other. We all walked through those places, as we all knew how a skittish horse had no sense when it came to keeping all four feet on the ground.
Travers took off barking after something, and we could hear a growl of protest, then a loud crash followed by a series of crashes as whatever it was went over the side and dropped down to the canyon below.
“That was a black bear,” one of the men carrying the lanterns called out. “Our animals would have gone crazy, meeting it.”
As it was, they snorted and trembled and had to be led past the spot, for they could smell bear, and they didn’t like it.
Gage and I dismounted and helped lead the pack animals through the area.
Just past that, we ran into a place where they’d had a landslide after the last coach had passed. The men took shovels and threw off some of the dirt, then pushed the bigger rocks over the cliff. Several big boulders couldn’t be pushed. The men took the long poles off, that the coach had tied to it for such a purpose, and used them as pry bars to move the boulders off the road.
I think the passengers should have been paid for the trip, not the other way around. We had pushed that stage up the mountains, now we had to hold onto it with ropes, going down places where the brakes couldn’t keep it from running over the mules.
We got to the next station at midnight, coming up on it suddenly, so no one had a chance to blow the horn and alert them we were coming.
But they had the mules ready to change and did so swiftly. They had no way to care for the wounded men, so asked us to take them on to the next station, which was a fort.
“They are the law around here. They’ll bury the dead outlaws and probably hang the wounded ones. Give your statements to them. There should be a driver there who will take you into California. They might even give you an escort, because of the money you’re carrying, but I doubt it. You seem able to take care of yourselves.”
“Will we be close to San Francisco?” I asked.
“No, Ma’am. You still have a ways to go. California is a large state and you just crossed into it.”
I’d never studied it on a map, so I didn’t know how big or small it was. I thought Tennessee was big until we crossed Arizona and Utah. Or maybe it was just the fact you could see so far, and so much of nothing. And what you could see, it took a long time to get to.
As we dropped down out of the mountains it warmed up, but not so warm it was unbearable. I decided I liked California, and said so to Gage. But when we reached San Francisco, I saw that other people liked it, too. A whole passel of people, all trying to live in one spot. It was worse than Memphis. Too many people for my comfort.
The stage let us all out at the end of the route, and a sorrier-looking bunch would be hard to find.
All the men had full beards by now. We were rank from sweat, pale from not having ate well, and jaded from having slept sitting up in our clothes. Gage and the other outrider had had to somehow sleep while riding. I knew it could be done, just not very restful.
“Now that was an adventure to write about,” the newspaper gent told me. “Check your paper in the next day or two. I’ve already got the headline.”
I just shook my head, thinking it would be a long time before I forgot the discomforts of that trip. I had figured, being a mountain girl, that I could stand anything, but being cooped up in that coach for pert near a month was an ordeal worth forgetting.
I looked about for Gage. He had told me he would get a cab to take us to some boarding houses, where I could find lodging. I didn’t see him anywhere, so asked our last driver if he had seen him.
“No. He left just after we got here.”
I looked outside, at the mass of people walking about, all seeming to be about their business, and decided to wait for Gage inside. The girls were pretty, with their hair done in curls and dressed in lovely clothes. I glanced down at my filthy garment. Perhaps Gage had seen someone he knew. I reminded myself that he was quick to go to another. He hadn’t been very upset losing Mary, just grabbed another girl to flirt with.
I walked over to pick up my pack and realized Travers wasn’t with it and forgot completely about Gage.
Now when I told Travers to “keep” something, he guarded it. And I had set my sack near the door and told him to “keep” it.
He had ridden into town on top of the stage and hadn’t jumped down until I called him. Now he was nowhere to be seen.
“Travers!” I called, loudly, and when he didn’t come I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled, like Trey had taught me. I’d only had to whistle the dog up twice in Tennessee when we were on the trail. And now.
How could he have vanished so fast?
I remembered the man warning me about dogs being kidnapped for dog fights. But Travers would have made so much noise, everyone would have known.
I ran outside and whistled. Nothing.
“Miss.” It was the employee at the counter, the first one I’d spoken to.
“Yes?”
“I just saw your dog. He’s out back where the coaches are.” He pointed towards a door behind the counter.
I went out the door and found a group of men standing around Travers. One pointed at me.
“Hey, Miss. This your dog?”
“Yes.”
“The men were telling us how he saved everyone on the coach by barking. And chasing off a bear.”
“And attacking the outlaws,” another said.
“We could use him on the runs.”
“That’s up to him,” I said. “He chooses who he wants to go with. I’m surprised he came out here.”
“He came out with that gent over there,” the first one said, and pointed to where Gage was talking to one of the crew.
So now I had them both found again. It cheered me up no end to see Gage. I had felt deserted, and now knew I wasn’t. It was a comforting feeling. I began to think I could depend on him.
I had handled everything myself in Memphis, but it had been sheer luck I’d found a good boarding house.
I walked over to where Gage was.
“Ruth, this is John Whitteman, the foreman here. I asked him about places for a young lady to stay that were reasonable but in a good part of town. He’s told me several places, but one he recommends above the others, so we’ll go there first.”
“Thank you,” I told him.
“No bother, Ma’am. They have a big fenced yard where your dog would be happy. Maybe he’d be,” he added doubtfully, looking over at the size of Travers. “They have a cab stand across from the office. Give them this address. And give this note to the landlady.” He wrote on two pieces of paper and handed them to Gage.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, to both of you. According to the other passengers, you saved them and the coach. Take three days to rest, Ma’am, before you go down to the freight offices. You’ll find you’ll need it.”
The cabman didn’t want Travers up with him, so I called him inside and shut the door.
“Make sure he doesn’t chew up anything,” the cabbie said, then started his horse down the street.
“I will be so glad to stop riding in anything,” I told Gage.
“I know what you mean.”
It was probably two miles to the boarding house. The lady at first refused to have Travers, but Gage handed her the piece of paper the man had given him, and she let us right inside.
“What did
it say on that paper?” I asked Gage, as she showed us to some rooms.
“Didn’t look.”
“Here, Miss, you can have this room. It has an outside door, so your dog can come and go.” She opened it up and I looked out into her yard.
“I hope he doesn’t dig holes.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him dig. But he will protect this house while we’re here.”
“This way, sir,” she said, and turned to lead Gage away.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
I nodded, already asleep on my feet. I wanted to bathe and change clothes and sleep for a week. I sat down and tried to untie my boots, and realized I had fallen asleep in the chair when I heard a knock.
“Yes?”
A maid entered, gave me a curtsey, and said, “Where would you like your bath, Ma’am?” She held the door wider, to let in a man carrying a large metal bath and another one with jars of water.
“Anywhere,” I said.
She motioned to a corner, then jumped when she saw Travers. She clasped her hands to her breasts. “Oh. He scared me, Ma’am. Mrs. Jones said you had a dog, but....” She stopped.
“He is a little big for a house,” I agreed.
“I’m Lila, Ma’am. Can I help you?”
“Lila, I’m so tired I can’t even untie my boots, If you could undo them—”
“Course, Ma’am,” she said, and knelt to unlace them. “Your gent said to take complete care of you. That is some trip. Not one I’d like to take.”
“How did you get here?” She had an accent of some kind, sort of like the English gent.
“I accompanied a lady from England. On a ship. When she left, I stayed. There I’d always be a maid. Here I can work my way up to where I own my own boarding house, or maybe I’ll marry one of the rich prospectors. Or a stagecoach driver. In this country you can do anything you’ve a heart and mind to do, so that driver could end up owning his own company. People treat you as an equal. Why, the banker’s wife apologized to me the other day when I tripped over her foot. She was concerned I’d hurt myself.” Lila pulled off my boots.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, looking at my poor wrinkled, white but dirty-looking feet. “I haven’t had them off for twenty-five days.”
She started undoing my blouse and skirt.
“Wait. I can do that myself.”
“I always did it for my ladyship, so don’t mind doing it for you. I’ll get your bath ready.”
I undressed as she poured the water into the tin bath. “I’ll put your clothes out to wash, Ma’am.”
“No. Don’t. I need to mend them first.” Actually, I needed to take out the coins I still had sewn into the skirt. “I have another dress in my pack. If you could get it ready by tomorrow, I’ll wear it.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll bathe myself.”
“Of course. But something my ladyship loved for me to do was give her head a rubbing. You have beautiful long hair. Let me wash and do it for you.”
“Thank you, Lila, but I can hardly stay awake.”
“I’m fast. Get in the bath.”
I did, throwing modesty aside. I’d mostly bathed in buckets, and the large bath felt wonderful. As I began to scrub, she washed my back, then my hair, rubbing my scalp until I practically melted into that water.
“Lila, you have magic in your hands. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing, Ma’am. You saved the life of the landlady’s son, Martin. He was driving the coach. The first driver you had who was shot. You folks took him to the fort and they took out the bullet. He’s doing well.”
“That was the landlady’s son?”
“Yes. That’s why she’s allowing your dog to stay here. Her son sent word that he alerted everyone to danger. Martin wrote that he ducked just as the man shot, so that he was wounded instead of killed. She said royal treatment for all of you.”
I yawned. Once started I couldn’t stop. She dried my hair in a big towel while I wrapped up in another and stepped out of the bath. The water had cooled down, but I felt so clean. It was wonderful.
I walked straight to the bed and threw back the covers.
“Do you have a gown?” she asked.
“No.” It was one of the items I had decided against carrying.
“I’ll get you one of mine, if you don’t mind.”
“Lila, you spoil me.”
She laughed, ran out of the room and soon returned with a white nightgown. She helped me pull it over my head, and I lay down and didn’t wake up until the next morning.
Travers whined, or I would have slept clear through the day.
I got out of bed and opened the door for him. It was beautiful outside and I stood in the doorway and waited until he had finished and returned.
I pulled my spare dress out of my pack. It was wrinkled and dirty, and I put it outside my door, hanging on the latch. I still felt like my body was one giant bruise. I pictured that bear, falling into the canyon and bouncing all the way to the bottom. I felt like him.
I got a drink and used the chamber pot. The stress of the trip had delayed my monthly cycle, but it looked to be slowly comin back. I fixed myself up, crawled back into bed and fell asleep again.
That afternoon, Travers woke me again. I let him outside, and decided I’d live.
A knock on my door.
“It’s Lila. I have your dress, Ma’am.”
I opened the door and she carried it inside.
It looked much better than I’d ever got it to look. I hated to iron, and usually had the heat too hot or too cold, so the flat irons would almost sear the cloth or wouldn’t smooth it at all.
“Lila, this is perfect.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“My name is Ruth. Call me Ruth.”
“Yes, Ma’am. May I do your hair?”
“Don’t you have other things to do?”
“Not right now. Your man is still asleep. Dinner is a few hours off. The landlady is resting.”
People insisted on linking us together, thinking Gage was my man. I no longer bothered to correct them. “I bet this is your rest time, too.”
“It is, Ma’am, but I need to fix your hair. Sit in your chair.”
She took my brush and began to work out the tangles and practically put me to sleep again.
“There you are, Ma’am.”
She had combed it in a style I’d never worn before, but knew I would wear a lot. It changed the shape of my face, making me look much prettier. No match for Mary, but not as plain as I had thought myself.
“That’s how you should wear it, Ma’am.”
“I bet you could open your own hair place, Lila. Women would love the kind of thing you’ve done for me.”
“Really? I never thought about it.”
“People in this country, for the most part, don’t have a maid. I bet they’d pay you handsome to wash their hair like you did mine and make it look good on them. You have a gift.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“Ruth.”
“Ruth.”
“That’s better. Now what did you do to my dress? It looks wonderful. I can never iron it and make it look like that.”
“I starched it, Ma’am. Ruth. With potato water. I put a little on after I washed and rinsed it. You have to be careful not to use too much, or it will be stiff. I do all the linens this way. Mrs. Jones loves it. You want to grab the water before you season the potatoes. I keep some in the icebox. My mum taught me.”
“It looks grand.” I looked around for my pile of dirty clothes. They were gone!
6
“Lila, my other clothes. Where...?”
“Here, Ma’am. Ruth. I couldn’t stand them. Your coins are all there, except two.” She opened a small door into a closet. My skirt and blouse hung there, clean, and my underskirt was folded.
I put on my undergarment, then the dress she had ironed. It was light after the heavy traveling outfit.
“Your coin
s show, Ma’am. Ruth. This won’t hide them.”
“What do people do?”
“Gents wear a money belt. Women carry a purse and aren’t expected to have much. You could put it in the bank, but that money won’t go far, here. Things cost. Most things come by ship or overland.”
“Thank you. I used one to pay my landlady in Memphis. The other is still in my purse, in case I needed it on the journey.”
“Take a couple in your purse and have Mrs. Jones put the rest in her safe.”
She helped me take the coins out. I had ten in all, what seemed a lot to me in the mountains. Lila took me to Mrs. Jones’ area of the house and that woman put them away for me and gave me a paper saying how much I had.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Thank you for saving my son’s life. You and Gage and Travers. We knew it could be a dangerous job, but the pay is better than most. He wanted to earn enough to start a small dairy farm.”
“How is he doing?”
“Excellent. He sent word with the pony express riders, which is how I knew before you got here. What are you and your man planning to do?”
“I’ve got a job with Mr. Debras doing freight.” I felt I should explain once more, so said, “I don’t know what Gage will be doing. We really aren’t together. I’ve just known him all my life.”
“He talked like you were someone important to him.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’ll need more than one dress, so I’ll have Lila take you to where she buys hers. It’s good fabric, and reasonable.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“And you need to look at the newspaper.”
She walked over to a small table, picked up a paper and carried it back to me. It had an account of our trip, written by the reporter. He’d sent one back east and sold one to this paper too. And probably others.
“Travers is famous,” she said. “And so are you.”
I read the story the reporter had written and recognized a few things that had happened. But he had used up a whole lot of his freedom of speech. Travers was this wonder dog, and Gage and I had emerged as heroic figures who were more than human.
“Land sakes,” I said. “That man could turn a sow bug into a sow.”