by Sara Orwig
“Good morning, Mister O’Brien.”
“And you know Horace Dooley.”
Everyone in Memphis knew the man who was one of the leading cotton factors in the nation. Only a little over five feet tall, with a round head and thinning black hair, his grip was firm.
“Good morning,” he said in a deep voice that sounded as if it should come from someone larger.
“Let’s sit down at the table, and let Caleb show us his plans for the Memphis and Arkansas Railroad.”
They moved to a long table near the window and when they were seated, Caleb unrolled a map. “I own the depots here and in Hopefield that Phelan Leib built. I have land through Pine Bluff and am working to acquire a land grant south of there and we’re negotiating purchase of land in Louisiana. I’m leaving in three weeks to go to St. Louis to buy two engines and the necessary cars.”
“When do you foresee having this train running as far as Pine Bluff?”
“By spring,” he said, feeling a sense of determination.
“That’s less than a year away,” Willard Heaton said in his gravelly voice. “Impossible, Caleb. Let’s be realistic. You might get it running a year from now.”
“My line will be open as far as Clarendon the first of the year. It will be open to Pine Bluff next spring. By the end of summer I hope to have the line running between Shreveport and Memphis.”
“I think you’ve set an impossible schedule,” Heaton said.
“I’m already hiring men to work on the track. I’ve contacted the Tyler Ironworks in St. Louis about the engine and cars. I’ve got the charter and the financial backing to get it running to Pine Bluff. I need more financing. Once I have it going, I hope to go into Texas. The city of Memphis has pledged thirty thousand dollars to the M and A. The Memphis and Little Rock line is still entangled in delays.”
“Do you know how many years the Memphis and Little Rock has languished?”
“Yes, I do. But I’m determined to give this all my attention and energy and I have a list of investors and you know many of them. I’m getting two new engines. Instead of the old 4–4–0, we’ll have two that are 2–6–0, a two-wheel pilot truck, six drive wheels, and no wheels under the cab. That way the weight and power will be distributed over the six-coupled driving wheels. The engines will weigh 154 tons with loaded tenders and can pull 37,100 pounds of effort.”
“What about rails?” Blodgett asked, staring at Caleb.
“They’re ordered from Cincinnati and weigh 136 pounds per yard. We’ll have two trestle bridges over the St. Francis River, one over the White River, with two wooden open-deck truss spans on L’Anguille River and a creek.” He handed out folders.
“Here are specifications of the trains with details about the track, the route, the financing, and the expected cost.”
“We’re glad to hear your plans, Caleb,” Heaton said, closing the folder as Caleb rolled up his map. Robert Blodgett stood up. “We’ll look all this over and get back to you.”
“Fine.” He faced them as they stood, looking at each man. “I’ll get my train running on schedule.”
Willard Heaton smiled. “We’ll study what you’ve given us.”
“Thank you gentlemen,” Caleb said, shaking hands again. “I’m going to New Orleans for the next two weeks, and then I’ll be back in Memphis.”
“We’ll be in touch when you return. We’re looking at Trevitt’s M and S Railroad as well.”
Wondering if he would get any support from them, Caleb left. They were three of many men in Memphis who had emerged from the war with wealth and the wealth was growing daily. He felt an eagerness in his blood to lay the new miles of track. The only cloud over his dreams was the time it would take him away from Sophia.
He returned to the new office and found Will.
“I’ve just seen Heaton and Dooley and Blodgett,” he said, sitting down across the desk from Will.
“How did they like the proposal?”
“They said they would study the facts and get back to me. They don’t think we can get the train running on the schedule we’ve set.”
“I don’t either,” Will said dryly. “Except I know you and your Irish stubbornness. You’ll have that train running if it runs on bare ground to get here.”
“Not quite,” Caleb replied, smiling. “I’m hiring all the men I can, but I’m hiring men who have experience in laying track.”
“You’re hiring Irishmen who’ll give you their all, because you’re Irish and you speak their tongue. And the bonus you’ve promised them is a damned fine incentive. Father still isn’t persuaded it’s good business sense.”
“I hope I can change his mind with results. I’ve got a man coming from Alabama. Sean O’Keefe. He knows how to build tracks that won’t sink in bogs. He was invaluable in the war and he’s a damned fine engineer.”
“Father and I’ve been talking to Mortimer Steinbrenner. He’s interested and with a little more encouragement, he may invest. If you have enough money, you’ll get the train going. We want to contact Napoleon Hill.”
“I’ve met Steinbrenner, but I haven’t talked to him,” Caleb replied thinking about the brown-haired Northerner who bought property in Memphis during the war.
“What worries me,” Will said, tugging at his ear, “is Heaton. He’s a shark; he stops short of getting caught, but he cheats. You’re dealing with a man who’ll take the railroad from you if he can.”
“We’ll consider any offer together. Your father would be welcome, too.”
“He has invested too heavily in Dunstan’s railroad to put much in this one,” Will stated.
“It’s difficult to remember that Trevitt is your relative.”
Will frowned. “Actually, it isn’t just Willard Heaton. If you didn’t need investors badly, I’d say steer clear of all three men. They have money, but they’re unscrupulous. Father calls them the thief, the cheat, and the shark.”
“I’ll be careful, but if they have money and will give it to me for the Memphis and Arkansas, I don’t care whether they’ve earned the names or not.”
“Sorry about Sophia’s fire,” Will said, leaning back.
“Have you heard any rumors about when or how the fire started?”
“No. Why? You suspect someone who doesn’t like Sophia? The saloonkeepers wouldn’t mind seeing her paper burn, and you know it.”
“I know. I just paid to have circulars printed offering a reward for any information about the fire.”
“As much as the saloonkeepers dislike Sophia’s stand on temperance, they like you and consider you their friend.”
“It may not have been set, but she’s made enemies here. I’ve offered a thousand dollars for information.”
“That should bring someone forth if there is anything to tell.” With a frown Will stared at Caleb. “Cal, I hate to talk about my brother-in-law, but did you know he once threatened Sophia?”
“Yes, I do. And I’ve warned him to stay away from her.”
Will tugged at his earlobe and gazed beyond Caleb. “I don’t think Hannah Lou is happy. She’s changed, and I worry.”
“Sorry. I like your sister.”
“She won’t say a word against him, but something is wrong. Sophia confided in me after Dunstan threatened her. I told him to leave her alone.” His gaze shifted to Caleb. “He denied ever threatening Sophia. Said it was the fantasies of a spinster woman living alone too long.”
“You know better than that, Will. Sophia isn’t a woman given to fantasies, particularly a fantasy of Trevitt threatening her.”
“I know. I think he did threaten her. I can’t tell Father, because his health is failing and I don’t want to burden him with worry and Dunstan has completely charmed Mother. All her friends think he’s a saint. They wouldn’t believe anything bad about him. And they have wealthy husbands, so Dunstan is no fool.”
“I leave for New Orleans in three hours,” Caleb said.
“I wish I were going with you.”
&n
bsp; “Then go.”
“Between the railroad and spending half the day helping Father with the cotton business, I can’t leave Memphis.”
“You don’t have to stay away long. Go for a few days and come home.”
Will rubbed his ear again. “You know, I might shift some appointments around and go with you for three days.”
“Be at the dock at four.”
“By heaven, I might do that, Cal!”
“I think if Amity were here, it wouldn’t take long to persuade you.”
Will blushed and grinned. “I may see you at four!”
Caleb left and rode to Sophia’s house, finding her at her desk going over expenses and her savings. She turned and stood up as he walked into the room. As he pulled her to him, he felt that rush of desire for her he continually experienced. His gaze drifted over her, imagining her without the red moire. His blood heated. He remembered the gray and brown muslins she had worn when he met her and the plain braids wound around her head. Now she set his senses reeling with her vivid red moire. Her hair was in a soft chignon behind her head with curls over her forehead and ears and ruby earbobs dangling in her ears. She was breathtaking; no man could fail to notice her. Which change was the most radical—her appearance or her articles in the paper supporting the railroad? he tried to decide.
“I’m ready to go to New Orleans. I think Will’s going along.”
“I’ll miss you terribly.”
“I’m offering a reward for information about the fire.”
“Caleb, the Daily Post has always been in favor of temperance. Harold Knowles, the editor and owner, came to call this morning. He has a small old proof press that he no longer uses. He said I can have it moved any place I’d like!”
Caleb felt like swearing while he gazed at her solemnly. With the fire, he thought she would give up printing a paper. “I can’t say I’m overjoyed, Sophia. I don’t want my wife printing a temperance paper or any paper. I want you home.”
She frowned and moved away from him, walking to the desk. “And you won’t give up that notion for me?”
“You’re not going to reform me and I’m not going to change you.”
“You’ve already changed my life beyond recognition, Caleb O’Brien. I’ll print my paper and I’ll fight the saloons and the whiskey and the gambling.”
“Where will you put the press? In your parlor?”
“No. I told Harold I’d find an office and have it moved.”
“Dammit! I hate your going to town alone. You’re not safe on the streets.” He moved impatiently toward the door. He was leaving for two weeks in New Orleans. He stopped and turned around. “Will you kiss me goodbye?” he asked gruffly.
Her breath caught in her throat and she crossed to him and faced him. He reached out and pulled her to him, bending to kiss her passionately and in seconds, she wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him, returning his kisses until anger burned away like mists beneath a summer sun.
He gazed down at her. “I need you,” he said huskily and crushed her to him for one more hard kiss. When he released her, he studied her and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a paper and unfolded it. “What is this, Sophia?”
She glanced at the familiar story about the Memphis & Arkansas. She blushed and looked down. “I decided that you were right about railroads.” She looked up at him with a solemn expression. “I still don’t approve of the other things.”
His expression softened. “So you changed your mind on this?”
“Don’t get to thinking you can change me on everything! I don’t approve of your gambling and I never will!”
“But there are things you do approve of, Sophia, that you didn’t when I met you. And things you’ll do now that you wouldn’t do then,” he said, looking pleased.
“Caleb—”
He kissed her again, long and deep and released her. “I’ll be back in two weeks.”
She watched him stride away, and he waved when he mounted up to ride down the street. She felt a strange sense of loss. The clash over her newspaper was a storm cloud on a distant horizon. The day would come when one would have to yield, and she couldn’t imagine either of them giving up.
She loved Caleb and he was the only man she would ever love, yet she had to have her paper and she would always despise his gambling. She closed the front door and looked down the hall. The back door stood open.
All the time Caleb had been in town, her fear of Trevitt vanished, but now before Caleb was on the steamboat to Louisiana, she felt a chill. She hurried to close the back door and then rushed to the parlor to pick up her revolver.
Two weeks later she stood on the wharf and watched passengers come down the plank from the stern-wheeler. Then she glimpsed Darcy’s dark hair and beside him was Caleb, looking full of vitality. He crushed her in a tight hug. When he released her, she turned to hug Darcy.
“How you’ve grown!”
“I got to steer the boat. Cal was friends with the captain,” Darcy said, and she looked at Caleb whose eyes twinkled.
“I feel as if I’ve been away a year,” Caleb said. “We have luggage and packages and Chantal and Amity sent things to you, and Darcy has enough to fill another boat.
“You wouldn’t let me bring half!” Darcy said good-naturedly.
“Not so, little brother. I’m going to let Darcy name the engine on my new train.”
Caleb directed loading their things into the waiting buggy. They returned to Sophia’s and over dinner Darcy and Caleb told her the news from New Orleans and told her about Daniella.
Finally near midnight, Caleb stood up. “I’ll take Darcy to the hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow night.
At the door he kissed her lightly, then he and Darcy walked down the street to the hotel.
When Caleb stopped at the desk, he was given messages and as he thumbed through them, he paused, scanning one from Willard Heaton to meet him at the bank the following morning at ten o’clock if he was back in town. What had Heaton and Blodgett and Dooley decided? he wondered. If they would invest, how much would it be? He thought of the monumental costs of the railroad. He folded the note and motioned to the porter to bring the baggage.
They climbed the stairs to his suite. In three more weeks, his house would be finished enough to move in and he wanted to take Sophia to select furniture. He had ordered two beds, one for Darcy and an ornate, oversized rosewood bed that he planned to share with Sophia after their marriage.
His thoughts returned to Heaton. What had they decided? Would they flatly reject him? Will warned him to beware of all three men. Money was flowing in Memphis with new industry coming in, cotton still a thriving market. He had heard over thirty million dollars’ worth of contraband goods passed through Memphis markets to the Confederacy during the war so Memphis hadn’t been hurt like some Southern cities.
The next morning he delivered a trunk to Sophia. She stood with wide-eyed amazement, gazing at the gifts from his relatives in New Orleans while all he could look at was her. She hadn’t put her hair up yet, and it was tied behind her head with a blue silk bow. She wore a blue gingham dress and he wished he could send Mazie and the delivery men away and cancel his appointment and spend the day with Sophia. He wanted to untie the bow and peel away the dress. Instead he stood with his hand on her shoulder, caressing her nape, watching her amazement.
Finally Mazie went to the kitchen and the porters left and he was alone in the parlor with Sophia and the gifts.
“I can’t believe they sent all this,” she exclaimed.
“They know you’re getting married and they had a good time selecting things. They think you live on the frontier and can’t get such goods.”
She smiled up at him as he bent to kiss her throat. “I have an appointment to see Willard Heaton in twenty minutes or I would lock the door and ravish you.”
“Sounds enticing,” she whispered, her tongue touching his ear and stirring his excitement.
“Sophia,” he whispere
d, his lips playing over hers lightly, his tongue touching hers and thrusting into her mouth deeply as he folded his arms around her and pulled her hard against him to kiss her.
He released her and gazed down. His arousal was hard, and he wanted her. “I love you,” he said. “And I’m going to be late.”
He picked up his hat and tried to shift his thoughts, to get his body cooled down. “I’ll be over tonight, and we’ll be alone.”
“Goodbye,” she said softly.
He turned away, knowing if he lingered she would be in his arms again. He thought about the night and his pulse raced. He wanted a wedding date, wanted to invite his family. The big delay was Rafe and Chantal’s expected baby.
When Caleb entered Willard Heaton’s office, he faced Dunstan Trevitt. Trevitt came to his feet, and Caleb gazed into cold blue eyes as they shook hands briefly. He could feel the animosity and hate, and he was puzzled why they were both here. Whatever the reason, Trevitt looked displeased about it.
And Willard Heaton’s eyes glittered with excitement. “The thief, the cheat, and the shark.” Caleb remembered Will’s warnings and smiled as he turned to shake hands with Blodgett and Horace Dooley. He could feel the tension in the air. Blodgett licked his lips, and Caleb wondered what proposal they had and why Trevitt was part of it.
“Gentlemen, be seated,” Willard said, sitting behind his desk and passing a box of cigars.
“We’ve looked over the plans and projections for both of the new Memphis railroads to the West. Trevitt is already coming along well with his line through Jonesboro and Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, to Springfield, Missouri. He has trains on order from a foundry in Chicago. And he’s looking for investors. He intends to extend his line across Missouri north to Kansas City.”
“I’m making good progress,” Trevitt said.
“O’Brien is going south,” Heaton continued. “He has two engines and cars ordered from St. Louis, and needs to lay a little over one hundred miles of track to Stuttgart, Arkansas, eventually going to Shreveport and on to Texas.”