Westward the Dream

by Judith Pella; Tracie Peterson

  Jordana smiled. “My father says that women are always a mystery to men. And my mother assures me that it will always be so.”

  At this, both Vanderbilt and Brenton laughed.

  17

  “I think with a little more rest, she’ll be just fine,” Anna Judah told a worried Kiernan. “Victoria’s young. A little pneumonia is a frightful thing, but Doc did a good job in getting her on the way to recovery. And you were right to leave your surveying work in the mountains in order to seek my help in caring for her.”

  She arranged the covers and touched the back of her hand to the younger woman’s forehead. Victoria slept on in complete oblivion, while Kiernan felt useless and totally miserable. He had failed Victoria and their dream, and now, in spite of his finding steady work, they were still practically penniless and dependent upon the care of their friends.

  “Now, Kiernan, don’t you worry about a thing. Ted told me he was sending you out to talk with Charles Crocker about a job at his dry-goods store. That will tide you over until you can return to the mountains. I think you’ll like it there, and I know you’ll love it here in Sacramento. Just give it a chance.”

  Kiernan shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Victoria’s exhausted form. She looked like a little girl snuggled there under the covers. Her rich chestnut hair splayed across the pillow, framing her pale face. She’d lost weight she could ill afford and looked as if she could scarcely bear the assault of the sickness. Sighing heavily, he stepped out of the room, leaving her to the care of Anna Judah.

  The kindness of Anna and Ted had been overwhelming. It couldn’t have come at a more perfect time, and because they were already well acquainted, sharing a working relationship and friendship in Dutch Flat, Kiernan didn’t feel quite so misplaced in accepting their charity.

  But in spite of this, Kiernan could not put aside his feelings of failure. He had taken Victoria from the family she loved—from the city of her birth—and dragged her halfway across the world. Or it might as well be. There was still nothing short of a lengthy, dangerous trip to reunite them with the eastern coast of the country. And given their financial status, it would take a miracle to ever secure enough money to make their way east.

  Kiernan walked to the end of the hall, gazed out the window that filled the little reading nook, and plopped down on the cushioned bench seat. The cranny seemed like something Victoria would enjoy. A little place to curl up with a good book or a basket of sewing and escape the noise and rush of the world.

  Putting his head in his hands, Kiernan tried to pray. He prayed for strength and wisdom in order to know what to do next. He prayed for guidance and the ability to endure whatever came his way. He prayed, too, for the health and recovery of his young wife. But no matter his words, his prayers seemed to go no higher than the ceiling before bouncing back unanswered. It was like undeliverable mail. Posts written in haste and scribbled off to the last known address, only to be returned because the occupant had moved to another location.

  Had God moved to another location?

  Kiernan smiled at his own contemplation. God hadn’t moved at all—but perhaps Kiernan had. He didn’t want it to be so. He had nearly lost his faith as a boy in Ireland seeing the hopeless plight of his family. Such had indeed happened to his brother Red and other family members. But upon arrival in America, Kiernan realized that facing life alone in a new land without faith was an even worse plight. As he relied more upon God, he gained a hope and strength that his tough, burly brother lacked. He knew he must now cling to his faith, even though, and especailly because, things seemed so dark.

  “Kiernan?” Anna Judah called softly.

  He looked up and forced a smile. “Sorry, I felt like I should go. Doesn’t seem to be anythin’ I can do.”

  Anna smiled sweetly and reached out to take hold of Kiernan’s arm. He got to his feet and allowed her to lead him downstairs. “You have a great deal to do. There is much you must and should be responsible for. Don’t feel bad that you are unable to be nursemaid as well.”

  Kiernan nodded and let her guide him to a chair in her dining room. “Now, we will have lunch and then you will go and speak with Ted’s friend Mr. Crocker. While you are gone, I shall send my maid out to inquire about housing for you and Victoria. I thought I heard about a little apartment not three blocks from here.”

  Kiernan sighed. It took every bit of his nerve to admit they were broke. “ ’Twould do me little good, even if such a place were available. I’ve used most of our money just to get us here. For sure we couldn’t hike out with Victoria so sick, so we took the stage and it drained our funds. I barely have enough to give ya for Victoria’s care.”

  “Nonsense,” Anna said firmly. “You owe me nothing, and you and Victoria will stay on with Ted and me until you’re back on your feet. Kiernan,” she paused and reached out to take hold of his hand in a motherly fashion, “don’t let your pride defeat you. There will be plenty of other chances to prove your manhood. To my way of thinking, it takes a stronger man to admit his need for help than one who allows his family to suffer for his pride.”

  “Aye,” Kiernan replied with a sigh. Anna was a fine woman, but she thought and reasoned as any female would. It was impossible for her to understand the dynamics of his situation. He had taken a wife, and it was his responsibility to support and keep her. His da had never needed to seek another man for help—not while he’d lived. Of course, his mother had needed a great deal of help after his father’s death, but that had been different. He and his older brother, Red, had been quite proud, and once they were able to take on the full responsibility of their mother and younger siblings, Kiernan had felt a purpose to his life that he’d never known before. People needed him. People he loved and cared about. Their well-being was dependent upon his ability to provide and do his part. Selflessly he had labored and toiled, always thinking of them and their need.

  Coming to this great land had been an extension of that task. He had desired nothing more than to earn enough money to bring his remaining family to America. He mourned that his mother had succumbed to her fragile health and broken heart, but he had sisters and brothers, and they deserved a chance in this golden land of opportunity. The only problem was, Kiernan hadn’t seemed able to hang on to that opportunity for himself.

  “Ah, here’s Li Xian with our soup,” Anna said, breaking into his thoughts.

  Kiernan looked up into the black eyes of the Chinese maid. She was a tiny woman, barely matching his height while he was seated in a chair. Anna had told them that Li Xian was only sixteen years old but had been rescued out of a life of slavery in San Francisco and brought here by kindly missionaries.

  The girl refused to look Kiernan in the eye; instead, she placed the soup in front of him and put another bowl at the place of her mistress.

  “Thank ya,” Kiernan murmured, knowing the girl would say nothing in response. She gave a tiny bow and hurried back to the kitchen before anything more could be said.

  “She’s so quiet,” Kiernan said as Anna took her seat.

  “Yes. She’s very shy. It’s the way of most women in her society. They are taught to remain silent.”

  Kiernan grinned. “I can’t imagine Victoria assumin’ that role.”

  Anna laughed. “Nor can I. Your wife is quite a woman. I have come to love her company, and I shall miss her when I go east with Ted.”

  “And when will ya go?”

  “Not for a time. Ted thinks maybe next summer or even later. Hopefully by then the war will be over.”

  Kiernan nodded. “I know Victoria will miss ya greatly. Maybe the war will indeed end before then, and maybe I’ll strike it rich in the meantime and she can accompany ya in order to visit her parents.” He paused and shook his head in defeat. “Of course, maybe the Sierra Nevadas will simply part like the Red Sea and let yar husband lay the railroad through without any need to blast.”

  Anna smiled. “Have faith, Kiernan. This is but a minor setback. Things will get better. You’ll s
ee.”

  Kiernan’s meeting with Charles Crocker seemed to reaffirm Anna’s suggestion. Crocker, a tall, heavyset man of forty, was one of the board of directors for the newly formed Central Pacific. He had a lighthearted, almost comical disposition—quick with a joke or some other witty quip, and a personable nature that drew both men and women to frequent his store.

  “If Ted says you’re worthy of my attention, then I trust that’s true,” Crocker said, securing a white canvas apron to cover his clothing. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “There doesn’t seem much ta tell,” Kiernan said, his brogue getting the best of him. Whenever he was nervous or filled with emotion, the telltale sign of his Irish heritage would ring loud and clear in his words. It wasn’t that he tried purposefully to deceive anyone into believing him anything but Irish, but he had tried to talk with less of an accent since first stepping foot in America. It seemed appropriate somehow that he make himself as much an American as possible. After all, Ireland had turned her back on him long ago, and America had welcomed him with open arms. Somehow, his allegiance had made a transfer in the process.

  “I came here durin’ the famine,” he told Crocker. “Me brother Red and I worked for the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company for a spell. Then we went to work for the B&O. They were good to us there, and for certain I’d work for them again.”

  Crocker seemed to perk up at this. “Yes, Ted told me you had railroad experience. Tell me all about it. What did you do for the B&O?”

  Kiernan shrugged. “Whatever I was told.” He grinned, beginning to feel relaxed by Crocker’s easygoing nature. “I laid track, blasted mountains, surveyed on the line with me father-in-law—only, he wasn’t me father-in-law then.”

  “So you met your wife through the railroad.”

  “Aye,” Kiernan replied with pride. “And she’s quite a woman. Followed me out here, she did, and I don’t reckon I could have asked for a better mate.”

  Crocker nodded. “I heard tell she was sick.”

  “She is, but Mrs. Judah is carin’ for her. She believes Victoria will be feelin’ quite herself before long.”

  “That’s good news. If you need anything at all, you just have Anna send Li Xian on over to get it.”

  Kiernan didn’t know what to say. The man offered him help as though Kiernan could repay the kindness. Boldly, he took his chances. “And would that be meanin’ yar offerin’ me the job?”

  Crocker laughed. “It’s always been yours, Kiernan. Once Ted told me about you, I figured you were a man I’d want to keep close at hand. We’ll be able to use you once the Central Pacific actually breaks ground. Would you mind going back into railroad work?”

  Kiernan thought about it only long enough to remember the image of his exhausted wife so tiny and frail in Anna Judah’s guest bed. “I’d go back in a minute.”

  18

  Victoria thrived under Anna Judah’s care. She found the woman to be amazingly like her own mother and realized with an aching in her heart just how much she missed her mother’s company. It had been so very long since she’d seen any of her family, and even the letters she had come to count on as links to the home she’d left behind were no more in coming. The war had made a mess of things back east, and mail and information were always at a risk of confiscation by the enemy—whoever the enemy might be. In addition to that, Kiernan’s and her frequent moving made it difficult, if not impossible, for mail to catch up with them.

  Anna’s ministerings were welcome in light of this loss. Victoria found her concern to be touching and her company to be the closest thing she could have to home.

  “You look simply lovely,” Anna told her as Victoria entered the sitting room. “I think that rose color looks much better with your dark features than it ever looked on me.”

  “You were very kind to have it made over for me,” Victoria said, absentmindedly smoothing down the lace-edged collar. “Kiernan said it’s his favorite of all the dresses you so graciously gave me.”

  Anna laughed. “They needed a home, so there was nothing gracious about it. Now come and tell me how you are feeling today. Every day your color looks better and better. Are you quite yourself again?”

  “Very nearly so,” Victoria replied, taking a seat on the small sofa opposite Anna’s chair. “I didn’t know a person could be so sick.” It had been a month since she had fallen ill in the mountains. And though she still felt weak, she was determined to regain her strength.

  “We get a lot of sick folk in the area. Maybe one day you can help me out. I do charity work with the Chinese immigrants. They seem particularly susceptible to our sicknesses. Probably because they’ve never had to deal with them in their own country.”

  “I’d like to help you,” Victoria replied.

  “Then perhaps when you are completely well,” Anna continued, “I shall introduce you to the ladies of the local aid society. But for now, we shall simply enjoy each other’s company and get you well.”

  Victoria nodded and thought how very fortunate they were to have made the acquaintance of Anna and Ted Judah. If they’d never gone to Dutch Flat, she might never have known the kindly woman. And that, Victoria decided, would have been a tremendous loss.

  Just then Kiernan arrived home, unusually early according to the routine he’d established at Crocker’s store. With him came a man Victoria was only now coming to know. Mark Hopkins, another member of the group of men who were quickly becoming known as the “big four” because of their influential involvement with the Central Pacific, was also a co-owner of a local hardware store. His partner, Collis Huntington, was even now in Washington with Ted Judah, and many others who represented the eastern railroad interest, to discuss a transcontinental railroad. The trip had come as a surprise to the Judahs, who hadn’t anticipated Ted’s return east so soon after his earlier summer journey. Victoria felt guilty that Anna had remained behind to continue overseeing her recovery, but Anna easily dismissed any of Victoria’s worries.

  “Ted can focus all his energy and attention on his Pacific Railroad bill without worrying about me,” Anna had told Victoria. “With the passage of this bill last July, the transcontinental railroad can now become reality. But only if the men involved keep the dream alive.”

  “Mr. Hopkins, how nice of you to drop by,” Anna said, getting to her feet.

  “Please don’t feel you must rise on my account, madam,” Hopkins said, giving her a bow.

  A much more serious fellow than any of the other men Victoria had met in connection with the railroad, Hopkins was nevertheless a complete gentleman.

  Kiernan left his side and made his way to Victoria and, leaning down, whispered, “And how are ya feelin’, me darlin’?”

  “Much better,” Victoria assured him. “Stronger every day.”

  “Ya were sleeping so peaceful-like this mornin’, I couldn’t go wakin’ ya up to ask how ya were doin’.” He took a seat beside her and waited for Hopkins to join them.

  “I had word from Mr. Huntington, and in turn he sent word from your husband,” Hopkins told Anna.

  “How marvelous. How is the state of affairs in Washington these days?” she questioned, as though she were not in the least bit excited at the prospect of hearing news about her husband.

  Victoria knew Anna had been pining away in Ted’s absence. In spite of Anna’s many assurances that the rest would do her good, Victoria and Kiernan were not convinced by her act. Victoria felt that had she not taken ill, Anna would have found a way, in spite of the war, to convince her husband to let her accompany him to Washington. She and Ted were very close—her love for him quite apparent. With Ted gone, Anna seemed to have lost an important part of herself. Most likely it was this reason that had put Kiernan’s mind at ease over accepting charity by living at the Judah home. Victoria surmised this on more than one occasion when her husband had spoken of Anna’s needs and felt that at least in this way he was serving an honorable purpose while working to put together enough money
for them to start over.

  “The state of affairs in Washington remains as always,” Hopkins said, his thin, bearded face seeming to take on an even more dour expression. “Too many men playing a game of politics, while the rest of the company sits in wait for some form of assistance. The war is accelerating and thus demanding more attention from the government.”

  “And my husband?” Anna said.

  Hopkins nodded. “He is well. Mr. Huntington and he seem to be at odds quite often, but there is certainly no news in that.”

  “No, I imagine not,” Anna replied with a bit of a laugh. She looked at Victoria and smiled. “Ted and Collis do not always see eye to eye on matters of the Central Pacific.”

  “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Judah, but your husband seldom sees eye to eye with anyone on the Central Pacific’s board,” Hopkins interjected.

  Anna turned her smile to the man. “Of course, there are times when my husband seems unreasonable, but you must admit, his background more than qualifies him for his opinions. After all, he was responsible for engineering the great Niagara Gorge Railroad in New York, a feat most said could not be accomplished. He was also the man to engineer the twenty-two-mile-long Sacramento Valley line, this state’s very first railroad.”

  “I do not doubt your husband’s qualifications,” Hopkins replied. “Rather, I question his direction and vision for this line.”

  At this, Anna again turned to explain to Victoria, who thought the entire matter somewhat confusing. “The board would like to see a freight line established as the Central Pacific continues to develop and survey its railroad. You remember the Donner Pass area, don’t you?” Victoria nodded, and Anna continued. “They would bring freight in over the mountains to earn them money while building the CP. My Ted fears that attention will focus solely on profits from this freight road and a local railroad, and that the board will soon forget the dream of a transcontinental line. Is that not so, Mr. Hopkins?”