by Al Lacy
“No bother, Knight,” said William. “You’re welcome here anytime.”
William followed Knight out onto the porch, watched as he mounted, then gave him a smile and a friendly wave as he rode away.
WHEN WILLIAM SHAW TURNED and entered the house, he found Sylvia standing just inside the door.
“I overheard your conversation with Knight, dear,” she said. “I hope he’s right and Jordan does show up here by noon. But if he doesn’t, don’t you think you ought to send a couple of the ranch hands up to the cabin to check on him?”
“Honey, I remind you again of Jordan’s little adventures, making a three- or four-day hunting trip out of what was supposed to be one day. He’s only been gone a little more than two days. Let’s give him till tomorrow evening. If he isn’t back by then, I’ll take Mark with me and ride up to the cabin on Saturday.”
Worry lined Sylvia’s pale features. “How about if he doesn’t come home by tonight, you and Mark ride up there to the cabin tomorrow?”
“Can’t,” said William. “Have you forgotten there’s a directors’ meeting at the bank tomorrow? As a director, I must be there.”
“Oh. I did forget. What time is the meeting?”
“It starts at ten o’clock, and if it’s typical, it won’t be over till sometime in late afternoon. Honey, Jordan is probably pulling another one of his long stays. Let’s not get too worked up about it.”
Sylvia sighed. “All right, but will you promise me that if our boy isn’t home by tomorrow night, you will take Mark and ride up to the cabin on Saturday?”
Taking her in his arms, William kissed her softly. “Yes, sweetheart. I promise.”
While working on an editorial in his office at the Elkton Sentinel as the morning passed, Knight Colburn had a difficult time concentrating. Jordan kept coming to mind. Laying his pen down, he eased back in the chair and said in a low voice, “Jordan, ol’ pal, where are you? You know Diana is arriving here at three o’clock this afternoon. There’s no deer, or elk, or—or big black bear with half a paw shot off that’s worth missing Diana’s arrival at the Fargo station when that stage pulls in.”
It was just past noon when Knight sat at the kitchen table with his mother’s hot beef stew on his plate.
While eating her own lunch, Annie noticed that her son was absently picking at his food. Clearing her throat, she said, “Son, is something wrong with the stew?”
It took a few seconds for his mother’s voice to filter through his thoughts. Raising his head, he blinked. “What did you say, Mom?”
“I asked if there is something wrong with the stew.”
“Oh. No, of course not. It’s as good as always.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Something at the paper bothering you?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“Well then, what’s got your attention? Something’s wrong.”
Knight sighed and laid his fork down. “It’s Jordan, Mom.”
“Oh no. What’s he done now?”
“Well, he went into the mountains on Tuesday to go hunting, and was supposed to be back that evening. He didn’t show up. Nor did he show up last night. I rode out to the ranch this morning to see if he was back yet. He isn’t. I’m concerned about him.”
Annie chuckled. “Honey, you know how Jordan is. How many times in recent years has he gone hunting for what was supposed to be a day, and he didn’t come back for several days?”
“That’s the same thing William brought up this morning, Mom. He’s not concerned about Jordan at this point, so I guess I shouldn’t be, either.” But Diana’s coming to Elkton at three o’clock today! his inner voice was screaming.
Returning to the Sentinel Knight went back to the editorial he was writing, and even though he had intermittent conversations with Dan and Erline, he masked the concern he was carrying about Diana Morrow arriving on the stage with no Jordan there to meet her.
When two-thirty came, and there was no indication from anyone in the Shaw family that Jordan had returned, Knight decided to go to the stage office just before three o’clock and see if Jordan was there. If he wasn’t, Knight knew it would be up to him to meet Diana and tell her Jordan went hunting in the Sawtooth Mountains on Tuesday and hadn’t returned. The only thing he could do was take her to Mattie’s Boardinghouse.
At a quarter to three, Knight stepped out of his office, his hat lopsided on his head, shouldering into his coat. He glanced at Dan, who had the press rolling with his back toward him, then moved up to Erline’s desk and said, “I have an errand to run. I’ll be back shortly.”
“All right,” said Erline, smiling. There was a twinkle in her eye. “If President Ulysses S. Grant drops in to see you, I’ll tell him you’ll be back shortly.”
Knight snorted, shook his head, and as he went out the door, he said, “You do that.”
Greeting people along the way on the boardwalk, Knight hurried toward the Wells Fargo office. As he drew near the building, there was no sign of Jordan, nor a Bar-S buggy.
Moving inside, he looked around, hoping somehow Jordan was there in spite of the fact that no Bar-S buggy was parked outside. There were two men at the counter, talking to Fargo agent Vern Morton. By what they were saying, Knight knew they were purchasing tickets on the three-thirty stage to Ketcham.
Vern smiled at Knight and said, “Hello, Mr. Colburn. Are you here to meet someone on the three o’clock stage?”
“Yes. There is someone on the stage that I’m meeting for a friend.”
“Far as I know, it’ll be on time,” said Vern.
“Thanks,” Knight said.
Unable to sit still, Knight paced restlessly around the office, stopping each time he came to the window to glance out into the street. His mind was racing as he tried to come up with some reasonable answer as to Jordan’s absence at this crucial moment. When he came to the window again, he stopped, looked out at the traffic in the street, and said in a low whisper, “Something has happened to him. The last time I saw him, he was beside himself with excitement, knowing that Diana had consented to come with the prospect of becoming his bride. I know he’d be here if he could. As soon as I get her settled in the boardinghouse, I’m going into the mountains to look for him, myself.
“No one else knows about Diana, so they can easily chalk all of this up to typical Jordan behavior, but I know differently. Wild Indians couldn’t keep him from meeting Diana when she comes in on the st—”
Knight’s words were cut off as the stagecoach rolled into view.
Knight took a deep breath and headed toward the door. “Well, here goes,” he said to himself.
As he stepped outside, Knight saw driver and shotgunner climbing down from the seat. He halted a few steps from the side of the coach and looked inside. The passengers were only silhouettes, but he could make out two men and a woman.
When the driver opened the door, he said to the passengers, “All right, folks. End of the line. Welcome to Elkton.”
One of the male passengers moved out first, then turned and offered his hand to the woman. Knight’s heart sank when he saw that she was silver-haired and estimated that she was in her late sixties. She thanked the man, then turned and said something to the silver-haired man who came out behind her. By her words, Knight knew the man was her husband.
When the three passengers had stepped away from the stage, Knight moved up and looked inside. What now? he thought, then went to the driver, who was taking small pieces of luggage out of the boot at the rear.
“Pardon me, sir,” he said. “Wasn’t there supposed to be a Miss Diana Morrow on the stage?”
“There was supposed to be another female passenger and two other male passengers,” replied the driver. “I don’t know the lady’s name, but she wasn’t at the Ketcham station when it was time to leave and neither were the men, so the agent told us to go on.”
“Oh. I see. Thanks.”
The driver nodded and continued his work.
Knight walke
d slowly back down the street toward the Sentinel, a deep frown of concern creasing his brow. No Jordan and no Diana.
What was going on?
Jordan had definitely told Knight that Diana was coming to Elkton on the three o’clock stage on Thursday. The missing female passenger the driver spoke of had to be Diana.
“Lord,” he said as he drew near the front door of the Sentinel, “You know where Jordan is, and You know where Diana is. Please help me to know what to do.”
When Knight stepped into the office, Erline was at the file cabinet near her desk. She turned to see who had come in, and her gaze fastened on her boss’s ashen face. “Knight, what’s wrong?”
Pausing, he said, “What do you mean?”
“You look like you’re worried or upset about something.”
“Somebody,” he said.
Erline frowned. “What somebody?”
“Jordan. He went into the mountains alone on Tuesday morning. Hunting. He was supposed to be back by that evening, but he wasn’t. I rode out to the Bar-S this morning to see if he had come home. He hadn’t. I’m afraid something has happened to him.”
“Maybe he’s home, now. He might not have thought about stopping here in town to let you know.”
Knight couldn’t tell Erline about Diana and the three o’clock stage, but he just had to ride back out to the ranch and talk to the Shaws. “You’re right, Erline. You and Dan close up shop, will you? I’m going out to the Bar-S right now.”
The sun had dropped behind the rugged hills to the west of the Bar-S as Knight knocked on the front door of the big ranch house.
“Knight!” said William, swinging the door wide. “Come in.”
Sylvia was standing a few steps behind her husband as Knight moved inside. “I can tell by your faces. He hasn’t come home.” Tears filmed Sylvia’s eyes. “No. He hasn’t.”
William explained that he had a directors’ meeting at the bank the next day, but that he had promised Sylvia if Jordan wasn’t home by tomorrow night, he and Mark would ride up to the old cabin on Saturday.
“I have some important business at the land office in Ketcham early on Saturday morning,” William said, “but I’ll be back between ten and eleven o’clock. Mark and I will head out for the mountains at that time.”
“I’d like to ride with you,” said Knight.
“We’d be glad to have you with us,” William said, laying a hand on Knight’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Knight,” said Sylvia. “I appreciate your offering to go along.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Knight. “I’ll be here by ten o’clock Saturday morning. Now, if that scalawag comes home before then, you make him ride into town immediately and let me know he’s back. Otherwise, you’ll see me no later then ten.”
William worked up a smile. “Thanks, Knight. You’re a true friend.”
Smiling back, Knight said, “That’s the only kind to be.” He also gave Sylvia a smile then returned to his horse and rode away.
Early on Saturday morning, Diana Morrow hired a buggy at the railroad depot in Ketcham to take her to the Wells Fargo station. Upon leaving the train, she had inquired at the railroad ticket office when the next Wells Fargo stage would be going to Elkton. She learned that there were three stagecoaches a week from Ketcham to Elkton, and that Saturday’s stage arrived in Elkton at 9:30 A.M.
As the buggy moved down Ketcham’s main thoroughfare toward the Fargo office, she asked the driver to wait while she checked to see if she could get a seat on the Elkton stage, saying if not, she would need him to take her to Ketcham’s hotel where she would wait until she could get a seat on the first available stage.
As they drew up to the Fargo office, a stagecoach was parked in front, and two men were hooking a harnessed team to it. The buggy driver told her it was the stage that would be going to Elkton. He helped Diana from the buggy, and as she hurried toward the door, she saw the conductor from the Boise train coming out. Recognizing her, he spoke politely, held the door open for her, then hurried back toward the depot.
Inside, Diana found two men at the counter, whom she had seen on both the Kansas City and Boise trains. The Fargo agent was at the desk behind the counter, tapping out a coded message on the telegraph key.
Recognizing Diana, the two men both smiled at her. One of them said, “Miss, are you here to take the Elkton stage, too?”
“Yes,” she said, returning the smile.
The men looked at each other questioningly as the Fargo agent finished his telegraph message and returned to the counter. Noticing the lady, the agent said, “Were you on the Kansas City train, too, ma’am?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you were wanting to get to Elkton?”
“Yes. I was scheduled on the stage that went Thursday afternoon, but the train was delayed by an avalanche in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming.”
“So I just learned from the conductor, and from these two gentlemen,” said the agent. “You must be Miss Diana Morrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
The agent scratched his head. “Well, Miss Morrow, we have a problem. I already have four passengers from right here in Ketcham who are scheduled on this morning’s stage. Mr. Williams and Mr. Baxter here were also supposed to have been on Thursday’s stage and are needing to get to Elkton this morning. That makes seven, and we can only seat six in the coach.”
Diana’s face went pale. “Oh.”
“Miss Morrow, I could put you on Tuesday’s stage,” said the agent. “That’s the next one to Elkton.”
“I have a problem, sir. There is a young man who was expecting me on Thursday. And … and now, if I’m not on this stage—”
“I just wired the Fargo agent in Elkton to advise him about the train’s delay in Wyoming, so he could tell the people who were to meet Mr. Williams and Mr. Baxter on Thursday that they will be on today’s stage. There’s nothing I can do now but schedule you for Tuesday.”
Noting the look of deep disappointment on Diana’s face, Victor Williams said, “Miss Morrow, I assume you are not from Elkton. Returning home, I mean.”
“No, sir. I’m from Virginia. I’m coming to … well, I—”
“I think it must be very important, miss,” said Williams.
Diana cleared her throat nervously. “I … ah … well, sir, I am on my way to Elkton to become a … a mail order bride.”
Williams and Baxter looked at each other. “I can wait till Tuesday, Mr. Baxter,” said Williams. Then to the agent he said, “Put Miss Morrow on today’s stage in my place. I’ll stay at the hotel till then.”
Diana said, “Oh, sir, I can’t let you do that. I—”
“It’s settled, dear,” said Williams. “I’m from Cheyenne City. My youngest son just married himself a mail order bride less than a month ago. I know the kind of excitement he had when he went to the depot to meet his prospective bride. I’m sure your young man has been on pins and needles since Thursday, when you weren’t on the stage, and at that point, nobody there knew about the train being detained by the avalanche. You go to your young man. I insist.”
Tears welled up in Diana’s eyes. “Oh, Mr. Williams, I don’t know how to thank you. This means more than I could ever put into words.”
Williams spread a smile from ear to ear. “Words in this case are not important, little lady. You can thank me by marrying that young man and having a very happy life.”
“Yes, sir. That’s what I plan to do.”
The Fargo agent, touched by the scene, said, “Tell you what, Mr. Williams. How about if I let you ride up in the box between the driver and the shotgunner? It’s against company policy, but in this situation, I can make an exception.”
Williams smiled again. “That’s fine with me.”
“All right,” said the agent, “that’s the way it will be. And, Miss Morrow, I’ll wire the agent in Elkton again and tell him you are on this stage. That way your future groom will know you’re coming. Before you arrive in Elkt
on, he will be told why you weren’t on the Thursday stage.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Diana. “I’ve got to go out and tell the driver of the buggy I hired that I will be going on this morning’s stage. I have a small trunk and a suitcase in the buggy. Shall I tell the driver so he can put it on the stage?”
“I’ll put them on the stage for you, miss,” said Albert Baxter.
“And I’ll help him,” said Williams.
“Fine,” said the agent. “I’ll go send that wire right now.”
At 9:15 that morning, the stage driver called down from the box to the passengers inside: “Elkton, fifteen minutes, folks. Fifteen minutes till we arrive in Elkton!”
The butterflies in Diana’s stomach came alive. Feeling rather disheveled from the lengthy time on the train and the swaying stagecoach, she removed her gloves, reached up, took hold of the hatpin that held her hat in place, removed it, and lay the hat and pin in her lap.
The other passengers looked on as she tried to smooth her hair into place. When she was satisfied she had done the best with it that she could, she placed the hat back on her head and firmly secured it once again with the hatpin.
She tried in vain to brush the deep wrinkles from her dark wool coat and pulled her scarf up close around her throat. Her hands were trembling as she worked her gloves back on.
I hope Jordan keeps in mind how long I’ve been on this trip and doesn’t expect too much on first sight, she thought, as the butterflies seemed to multiply. She clasped her shaking hands together and laid them in her lap.
Diana had enjoyed the ride and told herself she would love living in this rugged country with its mountains, hills, and wide-open spaces.
When the town came into view, she had to silently tell her pounding heart to settle down. She took comfort, knowing that the Ketcham agent had wired the Fargo agent in Elkton that she would be on the nine-thirty stage. She told herself that since she hadn’t been on the stage as scheduled on Thursday, certainly Jordan had kept in touch with the Fargo agent in Elkton so he would know that she was on this stage.