by Ginny Dye
Carrie shrugged. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already thought of or been warned of. “I’ve been cold before,” she said blithely.
“For months on end with no hope of warmth or a hot bath?” Rose shot back. “I don’t think so.”
Carrie sighed. “I know it will be very difficult, Rose, but whatever I will suffer is nothing compared to what the Navajo are suffering.”
Rose sighed with resignation. “You have me on that one.”
“And as hard as it may be, at least I won’t be stuck in Philadelphia for the winter.” Carrie grinned again. “I am choosing to see it as a grand adventure—one where I will be doing a lot of good.”
“I wish I could go with you,” Chooli said sadly. She gazed down at the baby nestled in the crook of her arm. “I would love for my family to see Ajei.”
“I know,” Carrie said gently. “I wish you could go, too. You’ve already learned so much, and you would be such a help. But Ajei is too young, and if you were to return, they would never let you leave again.”
“You’re right,” Chooli agreed.
Carrie ached at the gaping sadness in Chooli’s eyes. Perhaps changing the topic would help. “Will you teach me everything I need to know about the Santa Fe Trail?”
Chooli managed a faint smile. “I will teach you what I know, but I’m afraid it might not be much help. Franklin and I traveled at night, and we were often not on the actual trail. We kept it in sight, but we had to make our own way. Franklin will be able to tell you much more.”
Carrie had a sudden insight into how difficult the trip must have been. She might be cold during the time it took to reach New Mexico, but at least she would have a wagon, and she would travel in daylight. She was also uncomfortably aware that she had not mentioned the conversation she’d had with Anthony that first evening he’d arrived in Richmond. He had warned her about the ever-present threat of Indian attacks. Though the soldiers would be a strong deterrent, the number of violent attacks on wagon trains had increased greatly.
Carrie had thanked him for the information, but she had decided on her course of action. She believed it was the right thing. She would handle whatever came.
Chapter Ten
Janie shivered into her thick winter coat, yearning to step within the warmth of the train waiting on the tracks. She knew the two hundred or so travelers clustered around her felt the same way. She gazed at the eight wooden cars pulled by a large engine. Four were passenger cars; four were baggage cars. Windows down every side would make keeping it warm in winter difficult, but she knew the pot-bellied stove would be working hard. She pushed aside a feeling of uneasiness that had been dogging her since she had woken that day. Surely it was just because of the early hour.
Matthew wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. “Only a few more minutes,” he promised.
Janie smiled. “I’m fine, but I’m certainly going to tell Rose and Moses that winter in northern Ohio is much colder than what they experienced in Philadelphia. Home feels rather balmy in comparison,” she joked. A last-minute assignment for Matthew had delivered them to Cleveland for a day, and now they were waiting to board the 6:40 a.m. New York Express that would take them to Buffalo, New York. Icy winds blowing off Lake Erie made the pre-dawn darkness at Union Station even colder. The cavernous station would be warmer later in the day, when all the stoves could heat it, but the morning cold was too intense for the struggling stoves to make much difference. She was no longer certain her feet were attached to her legs, and her hands were growing numb.
Matthew frowned as he scanned the crowd. “You’ve never been on an express train,” he said worriedly. “It won’t be like the sleeper car we rode to come here from Philadelphia. I didn’t have another choice to get us to Buffalo today, though. I’m afraid express trains are rather rugged.”
Janie shrugged. “How bad can it be?” She was determined to be cheerful and make the best of it, though she had read enough about express trains to know she would probably be very happy to reach Buffalo.
“All aboard!”
“Stay close,” Matthew ordered. “I’m going to make sure you are in one of the best seats. We’ve suffered through getting here early in order to be as comfortable as possible for the long ride ahead.”
Janie clung to his arm, sighing with relief when they boarded the next-to-last car. Matthew wound his way to the middle of the car, three rows away from the pot-bellied stove that was already belching heat. They would be traveling up the east side of Lake Erie with the icy wind buffeting the train the entire trip. Matthew grabbed the satchel stuffed full of gaily wrapped packages for his brother Harold, and slid it onto the rack over their seat. Their luggage was in the baggage car, but Janie hadn’t wanted to take a chance the gifts would be harmed.
Matthew sank down into the thickly upholstered seat next to her. Train travel was bumpy and uncomfortable, but the cars had been made as accommodating as possible. “This is the best place to sit on a train like this. If you were to sit closer to the stove, you would be sweating and miserable, but if you sit much farther away, you’re going to be pounding your feet on the floor to feel them. Especially on a day like today.”
Janie smiled gamely but couldn’t help the feeling of revulsion as she looked around. “Does everyone spit tobacco on the floors?” she whispered.
Matthew scowled. “It’s against railroad rules, but the conductors don’t have time to police it.” His frown deepened. “I’m sorry, Janie. I know it is rather disgusting.”
Janie wouldn’t deny that the pools of yellow tobacco spit were vile, and she tried her best not to notice the streams of spit running down the walls. Still, she didn’t want Matthew to feel badly. There had been no other option. Besides, he endured these conditions on a regular basis as he traveled for the newspaper. “It’s an adventure,” she said bravely, forcing a cheerful smile even though she was quite sure it didn’t reach her eyes.
Matthew’s expression confirmed her suspicion, but he chose to play along. “You truly don’t mind that I’m on assignment during this trip?”
“Not at all. You always create stories in your head for every person you see anyway. You might as well get paid for talking to them.” She pulled out a copy of Harper’s Weekly. “I will keep myself happy reading until I am awake enough to care about meeting some of the people around me.”
Matthew smiled as she stifled a yawn. “We have almost six hours before we arrive in Buffalo. You can take a nap.”
“I will at some point,” Janie responded. “For now, I’m happy to read and wonder about the people around me.” She waved him away. “Go do your journalist job.”
Janie leaned back in her seat and watched Matthew weave his way down the aisle. She could tell he had already picked someone out to talk to from the crowded car. He could never explain why he felt drawn to certain people, but he always came away with a fascinating story. She was sure he would regale her and Harold with tales when they made it to his brother’s house later that night. She watched as he stopped to talk to a man close to her age. Moments later, Matthew had taken what seemed to be the last seat beside the man.
Janie stared out at the flat, colorless landscape for a few minutes but quickly realized there was nothing other than blowing snow to hold her attention. They would leave Ohio soon and then travel the countryside of western Pennsylvania before they reached a stop at Erie. She turned the page on her magazine and was soon lost in an article.
*****
“Mind if I sit next to you?” Matthew asked courteously. The man he had chosen looked to be in his mid-twenties. There was nothing remarkable about him, but the tension on his face invited discovery.
The young man with unruly dark hair and light blue eyes glanced up at him. “You’re welcome to the seat,” he said before he turned back to the book he was attempting to read.
Matthew was somehow sure the words were not being seen. He settled into the seat, hoping Janie was comfortable. “My name is Matthew Justin.”<
br />
The man, startled out of his thoughts again, looked up. “Josiah Hayward,” he said shortly.
Matthew nodded pleasantly and then let silence reign for a few minutes, certain he must handle the situation carefully if he wanted to know what had put the anxious gleam in Josiah’s eyes. When he felt enough time had passed, he cleared his throat. “Are you stopping in Buffalo or moving on?”
“Buffalo. It’s a business trip.”
“What kind of business are you in?” Matthew kept his voice casual. He didn’t know how long Josiah had been traveling. He might be too exhausted after two or more days on the train to be willing to engage in any conversation. That could also be the explanation for the tension on his face.
“I work for the railroad,” Josiah revealed.
“That must be interesting,” Matthew responded. “I am a reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer.” His last statement seemed to capture Josiah’s attention.
“Are you writing about the dangerous conditions of railroad travel during the winter?” Josiah snapped. He immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t necessary.”
“No need to be sorry, but no, I’m not. There seem to be plenty of publications that cover that issue. My job on this trip is only to interview some people on the train.”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed. “And you chose me? Why?”
Matthew knew honesty was always the best course of action. “Because you seem to be very tense. I’m wondering about what, though if it’s private, it’s certainly none of my business.”
Josiah met his eyes squarely. “There is a bad one coming,” he said bluntly.
There was something about the directness of his gaze that made Matthew uncomfortable. This was not a man who had lost touch with reality, but he did seem to be troubled. “A bad what?”
“A bad wreck,” Josiah answered in a voice that managed to be both tense and flat.
Matthew was intrigued. “How do you know?” Josiah hesitated for so long that Matthew suspected he was not going to say more.
“I had a dream,” Josiah blurted. “You can think I’m crazy, but I know what I know.”
Whether Matthew thought he was crazy had yet to be determined; what he knew for certain was that he had discovered a great story. “Will you tell me your dream?” There was another long silence, but finally Josiah nodded. Matthew leaned forward to hear him over the train racket.
“I had the dream six months ago,” Josiah began. “It looked like I was in the desert. I was about to explore when I heard a very loud crash. It sounded like the gates of Hell had been unlocked. I turned around to look and saw a very bright light.” His eyes grew wide. “The light seemed to reach to the heavens. And then I heard it…”
Matthew waited for several moments. “You heard what?” he prompted.
Josiah turned to stare at him, almost as if he had forgotten he was there. “The screams,” he said quietly. “So many screams. Dozens of them.” His voice thickened. “They sounded so hopeless.” He shook his head as if to clear the vision. “Then I saw the monk.”
“The monk?” Matthew was careful to keep his voice calm, but he was indeed beginning to believe there was something wrong with the young man’s mind.
“Yes. I don’t know that he was a monk, but he was dressed like one. I asked him where the screams were coming from. He told me they were from Hell.” Josiah shuddered. “I asked him what it meant, and he told me I must instantly die.”
“You’re still here,” Matthew replied, shaking off the uneasy feeling Josiah’s words were giving him.
“I begged the monk for more time.” Josiah took a deep breath. “He told me I might have six more months before I died. My wife woke me then. She said I had been thrashing wildly in my sleep.”
Matthew thought about what the young man had said. “Six more months?”
Josiah nodded. “I had the dream six months ago. Today.”
“And you believe it could be true?” Matthew struggled not to sound skeptical.
“I believe it enough that I bought three thousand dollars’ worth of life insurance before I got on the train. And now, if you don’t mind, I would rather not talk anymore.”
“Of course,” Matthew murmured. He had gotten a good story, but he pushed aside the idea that it might indeed be prophetic. “Thank you for talking to me.”
Josiah stared at him. “Do you believe me?”
“I don’t disbelieve you,” Matthew said carefully, “but is it all right if I hope you are wrong?”
Josiah managed a brief smile before he turned back to his book.
*****
Janie smiled at the young woman two seats over. “You have your hands full.”
Tired brown eyes turned to her. “We left Minnesota yesterday morning. It’s been a long trip.”
Janie gazed at the swaddled bundle in her arms. “How old is your baby?”
“Minnie was born nine months ago. I don’t know what made me think bringing a baby to a wedding on a train was a good idea, but it’s too late to turn back now.” The baby whimpered but quieted when Emma cooed at her.
“The wedding must be very important.” Janie smiled. “My name is Janie Justin.”
“I’m Emma Fisher.” She inclined her head toward the man sleeping next to her. “My brother-in-law is getting married. My husband couldn’t leave their business, so I decided I would come along instead.”
“I imagine it’s been a rough trip,” Janie said sympathetically. She couldn’t imagine being on this train for more than twenty-four hours with an infant. Emma looked exhausted. Her hands and face were covered with a grimy film of soot, smoke and grease. It was easy to tell the young lady with blond hair was lovely, but it was well concealed by the evidence of long travel.
“Yes,” Emma replied. “I want to get to Buffalo, but I’m already dreading the trip back home. If there was any other way to return, I would never put Minnie through this again. I’m glad she’s too young to remember how I’m torturing her,” she added ruefully.
Janie grinned, impressed Emma still had a sense of humor. “Babies are resilient.”
“Much more than their mothers,” Emma retorted.
“You’re lucky to be getting off in Buffalo,” another woman broke in.
Janie looked toward the woman, a few years her senior, who had spoken. “How far are you going?”
“Too far,” the woman said wearily. She looked at Emma. “I’m from Minnesota, too. I’m taking my children to make a new home in Vermont.” She nodded toward the two children sleeping beside her. “James is twelve. Mary is just ten. My name is Christiana Lang,” she added.
“Vermont is a long way from Minnesota,” Emma remarked. “I would cry if I thought I had to go that far.”
“I’m going back to where I grew up,” Christiana replied. “My children have had nothing but trouble the last few years.”
“Are you traveling alone?” Janie asked. At least Emma had her brother-in-law.
“Yes. My husband died a few years ago in Boston. I thought we would make a new start in Minnesota last year.” Agony filled her eyes. “I had three children then. My Anna died a few months ago from the flu.”
“I’m so sorry,” Janie whispered. She reached out to put a hand on Christiana’s arm. The grief-stricken mother looked grateful for the human touch. Janie could only imagine how lonely she must be feeling. “Do you have family in Vermont?”
“Yes.” A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. “I should have gone to Vermont last year, but I believed the reports that Minnesota was the new paradise of the West. It was pretty enough, but I didn’t know anyone there. Annie got the flu, and it took her in just a few days. James and Mary got sick, too, but they pulled through.” She let her eyes rest on her sleeping children. “I’m going back where we won’t feel so alone. It’s time something good happened for them.”
*****
Matthew was wondering what to do next when he spotted someone he thought he recognized. He stood, ba
lanced himself against the rocking train, and made his way to the back of the car. A glance showed him Janie was deep in conversation with two women. He smiled as he watched her reach out and touch one of them. He was lucky to have someone like Janie to love him, and he knew it.
As he drew closer to the man he had glimpsed, he knew he was right. “John Chapman!”
The man glanced up. A broad smile lit the brown eyes crowned by gleaming brown hair. “Matthew Justin? What in the world are you doing on a train in Ohio?” He raised a hand. “Don’t bother to answer that question. There probably isn’t a train in this country you haven’t been on. How goes the reporting life?”
Matthew laughed easily. “As busy as ever, but this happens to be a personal trip. My wife and I are on our way to visit my brother in Buffalo.”
“You’re married? That’s wonderful! Who is the lucky lady?”
“I’m the lucky one,” Matthew replied. He pointed a few rows up to where Janie’s blue bonnet stood out in the dim light filtering in through the windows. “That is Janie in the blue hat.”
“The back of her head looks lovely,” John said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“I’ll introduce you at the next stop,” Matthew returned. “The rest of her is as lovely as the back of her head.”
“Then I really don’t know how you managed to get her to marry you,” John quipped.
The passenger seated next to John stood. “Take my seat,” he invited. “I’m going to the bathroom, and then I’m going to stand for a while. It might help my aching back.”
Matthew smiled his gratitude and slipped into the newly emptied seat. “It’s been years since I was assigned to cover one of your trials. I don’t even remember what it was about.” John Chapman was a well-regarded Boston attorney. He had been only twenty-seven when he was assigned a big enough case that it captured the attention of the Philadelphia Inquirer. Matthew had been assigned to do an in-depth interview with the young attorney. The two had hit it off, sharing many meals in area restaurants, but the war years had separated them.