“It was a service I was happy to offer.” He shook her hand respectfully. “Edmund O’Dell. If I can ever be of assistance again, Miss . . . ?” He tried not to stare at her, but couldn’t help himself. She was lovely.
Joy politely nodded her thanks again and, without giving her name, mounted the steps to the train. As if we are likely to meet again, she thought. She quickly found the girls and settled her things.
Back on the platform, the man took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. He stared after the departing train.
Lovely was all he could think.
~~**~~
Chapter 15
The narrow gauge train steamed south out of Denver and after only a few miles began a long westerly sweep. At only minutes past 4 p.m., the sun was beginning to sink down in the sky. As they looked out the windows and saw the tracks bending west ahead of them, the three women collectively gasped.
A crown of sharp, jagged peaks soared into the sky. Early snow covered those peaks, and the sinking sun bathed them in red, purple, orange, and pink.
“Is that vhere ve’re going?” Marit breathed. Breona stared.
“I’ve never seen such mountains!” Joy exulted. She recalled when she and Uli had been children. Uli had told her, in a quite superior and matter-of-fact manner, that her Aunt Rose had informed her, “Uli, there are more and bigger mountains in America than anywhere in Norway, but unfortunately we live a long ways from them. Perhaps someday you will ride on a train like I did and see them.”
Uli had told Joy in the same matter-of-fact manner that she intended to do just that. Joy laughed aloud. Now Uli lived in those mountains!
As the train angled toward the imposing peaks, the tracks ahead vanished into their foothills. They could no longer see the mountains directly ahead, but could see the range extending on either side of the train as they drew closer.
They watched, mesmerized, as the train entered a shadowed canyon and began to climb, making narrow turns that a wider train would never have been able to navigate. They stared down as the train curved, hugging a hillside on one side, hanging over a precipice on the other.
The conductor interrupted their gawking. “Tickets?”
They handed them over quickly.
“Getting off at Corinth, eh?” He looked at them curiously. “Most of our passengers go through these days, headed for California, Utah, or New Mexico.”
Joy smiled. “We’re meeting my cousins in Corinth.”
He nodded, still unsure. “Glad to hear you have family there,” he replied before continuing down the train.
“Not very reassuring, was he?” Joy muttered.
Uli had written that Corinth was not far into the mountains. The ride from Denver would take just two hours. While it had originally been a mining town, it was close enough to Denver not to have suffered as much economically as so many other mountain communities had when mining declined drastically. True, Corinth still had some small mining operations nearby, but it also had timber and farming in the valleys outside the town.
After an hour or so Joy rose to stretch her legs. Breona and Marit promised to stay in their seats, so Joy began to walk. She left their car and walked through a second one similar to theirs, and entered a third.
The eyes of five well-dressed gentlemen surrounded in cigar smoke turned toward her. They were the only occupants of the car. Joy could not help but immediately notice two things: The car she had entered was sumptuously furnished, and the collective gaze of the men in that car made her exceedingly uncomfortable.
Excusing herself, she retreated and hastened to return to her seat.
It was nearly dark when they arrived at the little siding with a dim sign that read, “Corinth, Colorado. Altitude 7,586 feet.”
“Uli!” Joy called from the steps of the train. She spied her cousin and her husband looking anxiously for her.
“Joy! Oh, I am so happy to see you!” Uli embraced her for a long moment, and Joy sank into her welcoming arms. She hadn’t realized how much responsibility she had been carrying for Breona and Marit until she knew she would be able to place that care on other, more experienced shoulders.
The girls, holding hands again, stood a little ways off, watching carefully.
Joy whispered in her cousin’s ear, “Uli, both these girls answered newspaper ads to come to Denver. A horrible man tried to take one of them against her will in Denver, but I rescued them and we—” Uli stiffened. Joy drew away from her embrace and looked at her.
Uli’s smile was frozen on her face, but Joy knew her well enough to recognize dismay.
“Oh Joy . . . what have you done?”
Sizing up the situation, Uli’s husband David acted quickly. “Cousin Joy! I’m so pleased you could come! And your friends are welcome. Please.” He gestured for the girls to join them.
As Breona and Marit approached, David said quietly. “Act normally. We’ll explain once we are home. Uli, my love, please welcome these young ladies.”
Uli widened her smile and reached for Marit, enveloping her in a hug. She repeated the same with Breona and said brightly, “Well then! Let’s all get into our old-fashioned wagon and go home to a hot, home cooked meal, shall we?”
Joy saw her trunk being unloaded and pointed it out to David. Then she noticed several men lounging about the small station. Two of the men stared fixedly at their group. David and Uli carefully kept their eyes turned away.
She also could not miss the well-heeled men who had disembarked from the elegant car she had stumbled into earlier. The men lounging nearby greeted them with deference and showed them to two idling motorcars waiting just off the sliding. One of the gentlemen from the train, his dark hair shot distinctively with gray, eyed Joy with bold admiration and tipped his hat to her. She blushed and turned away.
A few minutes later, David clucked to the horses and, although a bit cramped in the wagon, the five of them headed down a road into the town. They passed a few widely-spaced houses before they spied a modest plaza and city hall. The plaza boasted a formal little town square at its center and a small monument set in a grassy commons. The streets along the plaza were lined with shops, all shuttered and dark. Down a side street Joy saw a bar or two, well-lit, with men going in and out. Corinth appeared to be a normal, sleepy small town.
Several streets later, the wagon entered a well-kept residential area. As David turned onto an unexpectedly wide avenue, Joy couldn’t help but notice two particularly lovely houses. They were both several stories tall and graced by covered verandas, attractive balconies, and meticulously groomed grounds. The houses’ long, curving drives were lit by gaslight. Every window glowed from within.
Joy was amazed that the tiny town boasted such . . . mansions . . . was the only word fitting their luxury. Other homes in the area were modest in comparison.
Marit, never having seen such imposing homes, gaped at them. David and Uli kept their eyes straight before them, but Joy noticed David’s drawn brows and firmly set mouth.
Then she saw the motor cars. They had pulled high up onto the curved drive in front of the larger of the two houses. The men from the train, in boisterous spirits, were disembarking and walking to the front door.
Eventually the wagon reached the edge of the town and turned down a lane well-treed with evergreens. Near the end of the lane, Joy spied a small white church roofed with cedar shakes. David pulled the wagon around the little church to a cozy looking house tucked into the trees.
David and Uli looked at each other and let out pent-up breaths.
“But I understood that you had . . . friends . . . who could help Breona and Marit away from here? Isn’t that what you wrote to me? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
They had enjoyed a well prepared dinner with David, Uli, and their boys, Sam and Seth, and their daughter Ruth. The women had worked together to make up two more beds on the floor of the bedroom they had prepared for Joy. Joy, Breona, and Marit would share the room until a decision could be
made about how to spirit them out of Corinth.
At Uli’s request, Joy left the girls in their room to settle in for the night and joined David and Uli in their kitchen.
Uli’s husband David chose his words carefully. “You saw those two beautiful homes we passed. You know the ones I speak of.”
Joy nodded soberly.
“Those are where they take the girls and young women they pluck off the trains in Denver. Behind those beautiful walls they are forced . . . into a life of slavery. We know from the stories told us by the women we have helped escape.”
“We are being watched at all times, Cousin Joy. So far, each time we have aided a young woman in her escape, we have eluded detection—but those who are watching have their suspicions.”
“For you to openly bring two girls you ‘rescued’ in Denver to Corinth, to our home, plainly tells those who watch us that we must be involved with the other runaways, especially if Miss Byrne and Miss Dahlin just as quickly disappear from Corinth.”
Uli watched Joy as she digested David’s words.
“So . . . by bringing them here I have endangered you . . . and the work?” Joy was stricken.
David was a kind man, lean and already much bowed by cares and responsibility. He nodded and gently continued. “We have been . . . threatened, Joy. Once in an anonymous note, once by two thugs who actually made a donation to the church while they were threatening us!”
Uli nodded her agreement and added softly, “Joy, they threatened to burn us out. Church and home. I’m sure you . . . understand.”
“I . . . I am so sorry. I thought . . .” Joy swallowed nervously. She had pictures of steaming rubble forever etched in her mind, could still smell the acrid smoke. It must not happen again!
“What will we do?”
“We will pray,” David said firmly.
“Yes we will,” echoed Uli. “God himself will give the answer.”
The three of them bowed their heads together. When they finished, they quietly said goodnight. Joy slipped into her room, listening to the even breathing of Marit and Breona before crawling under blankets on the floor near Breona. She had insisted that Marit take the bed.
As she tried to settle, she kept turning the events of the past few days over in her mind. Finally she breathed out her own prayer.
“Lord, I know that you led Breona and Marit to me. You did not save them from such grief and destruction only to have us and this important work overthrown through my ignorance. I cannot—I do not—believe that.”
“I trust you, Lord. I believe you have an answer for us, something that is already part of your plan. And I refuse to be afraid. I have been afraid for too long. No; I will wait calmly and without fear for you to tell us how you wish us to go forward.”
“I trust you, Lord. I will not be afraid . . .” she murmured and then slid into a deep sleep.
~~**~~
Chapter 16
Edmund O’Dell and Beau Bickle lit cigars and leaned back in comfortably overstuffed chairs with a view of the busy Denver boulevard in front of the Denver Pinkerton office.
“I take it McParland isn’t around?” O’Dell observed casually.
“Ha! He’d have my badge if he caught us smoking on Pinkerton time,” Bickle agreed. Denver’s famous—or infamous, depending on who was asked—James McParland, head of Pinkerton Detective Agency in Denver, ran a tight ship. “And Siringo retired last year.”
O’Dell nodded at the mention of another famed Pinkerton. “You’ve moved up. Congratulations. You said you had something for me?”
“Yup.” Bickle took a long drag on his cigar. “Something near here and maybe why your trail goes cold soon as it hits Denver.”
“Oh?”
“We think the girls are taken out of Denver as soon as they get off the train.”
“Where?”
“Not certain sure, but we’ve heard rumors of a little town south of Denver. Think the girls are taken there to be broken in.”
The cavalier manner in which Bickle used the words “broken in” infuriated O’Dell. His voice darkened. “You mean where a dishonorable brute can rape a little girl for the right price.”
Bickle went on, oblivious to his companion’s growing ire. “That’s right. The guys running this game get top dollar for young, unspoiled girls. Then they likely give the girls their options—learn the trade, get good at it, and get a bed in a nice house with nice clients, nice clothes, and good food. Don’t show the clients a good time, have a bad disposition, that sorta thing, you end up in a third-rate crib down on Market—”
O’Dell gripped Bickle by the cravat. Tightly. “These girls are someone’s daughter or sister. The crimes are kidnap and rape, pure and simple. Why don’t you show a little respect, Beau.” He released Bickle’s cravat and pushed the man against the back of his chair.
“Jeeze, O’Dell! I’m just tellin’ it like it is.”
“What’s the name of this little town?”
Bickle rubbed his throat. “Called Breezy Point. Just a couple hours south.”
“Thanks.” O’Dell picked up his hat. “Sorry about the necktie.” He didn’t sound sorry.
Bickle watched as O’Dell marched down the street in the direction of Union Station. “Sure pal.”
He rubbed his neck again. “O’Dell. Keep diggin’ and sure as spit, I think you’re gonna find trouble here.”
The next morning after an early breakfast, Joy, Breona, Marit, and the Kalbørg family gathered around the table again. David read aloud from the Bible. The three children each recited a passage they were memorizing, and then the family bowed their heads and prayed together. Breona and Marit followed along politely, but Uli recognized that family devotions were foreign to both of them.
“Our morning routine must seem a little strange to you,” Uli explained. “This is something we do together each morning and each evening. You see, we want to involve the Lord in every part of our lives, rather than just on Sunday or holidays. So we welcome Jesus into each new day, reminding ourselves to put him first in our thoughts, our chores, our problems, and our decisions.”
David smiled at the two young women. He and Uli both looked rested; it was obvious to Joy that they had also slept peacefully after their prayers last evening.
“Miss Byrne and Miss Dahlin, we believe you are here in Corinth, in our little home, because the Lord brought you here. We’re grateful that he did. We believe that he has a plan for each of you. So, now that you are here, what is next? We would like to pray and ask him to show us. Would you join us in asking him to give us direction?”
They both nodded self-consciously but bowed their heads with everyone else and David prayed aloud. “Father God, the Bible tells us that you know the end from the beginning. We are the ones who need guidance, not you. Help us to walk in your ways this day and to follow you closely. We thank you for bringing Miss Byrne and Miss Dahlin to our home. You have a plan and purpose in doing so. Will you show us how to help them next? We ask you in the name of Jesus. Amen.”
Joy and the girls pitched in willingly to clean the kitchen and help the children out the door to school. Then they straightened the small room they shared. Afterwards, Joy suggested a walk. They donned warm cloaks against the brisk mountain air and wandered down the pine-edged lane.
Marit broke the silence first. “The air is different here.”
Breona agreed. “Loik Christmas!”
“We are so high and these trees smell so good,” Joy agreed.
“’Tis it!” Breona’s tiny face split into a grin. “Th’ trees! They smell of Christmas.”
The three of them laughed, and Joy was gladdened to hear their laughter.
Before long they were walking by other little houses and shanties nestled in the trees and then came to the edge of the town. Heeding David’s caution that they not go into Corinth proper, Joy steered them toward a rocky vantage point.
In the daylight the mountains displayed themselves—towering crags that se
emed close enough to touch and lofty peaks shimmering in the mid-morning sun. Dizzying valleys and canyons spread out far below them. “So beautiful,” Marit murmured in awe.
All of them were struck by the natural splendor surrounding Corinth. They perched on a wide rock and gazed in silent companionship, the sun gradually warming their backs.
Joy knew she would never be able to catalog every wonder displayed before her. She had loved the simple beauty of her childhood prairie home but this . . . this was more than beauty. This was majesty.
How could people defile the majesty of this place? That thought abruptly ended her peaceful reverie.
“Miss Joy?” Breona’s eyes were still drinking in the view.
“Yes?”
“What we were seein’ last night. Th’ fancy houses and th’ men from the train.” It wasn’t a question.
Both girls looked to her and Joy nodded. “Yes.”
Marit asked the obvious question. “Vat vill ve do?”
Joy turned to them. She had determined to be frank with both of them. “Unintentionally, my bringing you here has placed David and Uli in a bit of, um, a quandary. Those men at the station saw all three of us. We must assume that they are accomplices or at least acquaintances of Darrow.”
Marit paled visibly and Breona did that “thing” Joy had noticed several times now. She grew very still and, if it were possible, she shrank into herself, making herself even smaller. Like a rabbit when it senses danger, Joy thought.
“I had thought that friends of David and Uli’s friends could ‘spirit’ you away as they have done when a few of the . . . girls . . . ran away. However, since those men saw us with David and Uli, if you just disappear without notice, then David and Uli will be proven to have helped not only you, but those other girls as well. This is why Uli was a bit . . . disconcerted when I told her how I met you.”
She blew out her breath and then added, “They have been threatened. People are watching them.”
Joy looked out into the vastness of the mountains and drank in their splendor again. Lord, please show me the way.
Joy on This Mountain (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) Page 11