The Railroad War

by Wesley Ellis

  Jed needed no further encouragement. He picked Jessie up and carried her through the open bedroom door.

  He started for the bed, but Jessie shook her head. Jed relaxed his arms and let her feet swing to the floor. Jessie pulled the knotted cord that belted her robe, and shrugged it off. Jed stared at her for a moment, her body glowing in the soft light that spilled in through the door from the sitting room.

  She began unbuckling his belt, fumbling in the dimness, and Jed moved to help her. He levered off his boots and kicked them aside, then his hands tangled with Jessie’s as he tried to get out of his trousers, shirt, and balbriggans all at the same time. Jessie’s hands brushed Jed’s as together they pulled the layers of clothing down over his hips.

  Their eager fumbling ended quickly. When the encumbering balbriggans slid down Jed’s thighs and Jessie saw his rigid shaft spring up invitingly, she let him kick his legs free, and with both hands she encircled the sturdy cylinder of pulsing flesh.

  Jed gasped when he felt her warm hands grasping him. Too impatient now to wait, he lifted Jessie by the waist and, with one long stride, carried her to the bed. She sank back and parted her thighs, and when Jed bent over her, Jessie grasped his shaft again and guided him to the moist warmth that was awaiting him.

  Now it was Jessie who gasped with a throaty whimper of joy when she felt Jed sliding in to fill her. She did not try to control herself.

  Locking her feet behind Jed’s hips, she pulled him deeper. Her hips rolled and her body writhed in quickly mounting ecstasy, and she let herself go almost as soon as he began thrusting into her with firm, hard strokes.

  “Oh, wonderful, Jed!” Jessie gasped, her words blurred softly between the soft cries that bubbled from her throat as she rocked beneath him. “Go slower now. I want you in me for a long, long time!”

  Jed did not answer, nor did he stop when the soft cries of joy poured from her throat, but he slowed his stroking to a more leisurely tempo. Looking up at his bronzed young face, Jessie saw that his eyes were closed, his lips parted in a smile. Jessie closed her own eyes and abandoned herself to enjoyment.

  Far sooner than she’d expected, her sensations began to build again. Jed was panting now, thrusting faster, his arms beginning to tremble. Jessie raised her hips higher and bent her knees, spread her thighs even wider, opening herself to accept Jed’s lunges.

  “Faster, Jed!” she urged. “I want to go with you!”

  “Yes. But I’m almost there, Jessie,” he panted.

  Jessie still needed more time. Arching her back, she raised her hips to increase the friction of Jed’s driving shaft against her swollen bud. Above her, Jed was gasping each time he plunged into her, and Jessie felt his hips beginning to tremble. She sprawled her thighs wide to let him go deeper, and felt her own urge mounting.

  Jed was very close now, and Jessie let herself ride with him to the final shuddering moments when neither could endure the joyous pain of self-control for another instant. They flowed together and lay with slack muscles shaken by their spasmodic shuddering, which diminished bit by bit and finally ended.

  Jed moved as though to leave her, but Jessie stopped him.

  “No,” she said. “Not yet.”

  “But I’m too heavy to lay here on you,” Jed protested.

  “Then we’ll roll over, and I’ll lie on you.”

  In their new position, still connected by their bond of flesh, Jessie soon began caressing Jed by first firming and then relaxing her inner muscles. This was but one of many things she’d been taught by the wise old geisha, Myobu, in whose charge her father had placed Jessie after her mother’s death.

  Jed’s young virility led him to respond quickly. Jessie rose to her knees, straddled him, and continued the soft caresses until Jed was fully erect. Then she began rocking back and forth in a steady, insinuating rhythm, keeping herself taut, her muscles grasping and releasing, until Jed’s eyes squeezed shut and his hips heaved up as he tried to thrust deeper into her. Jessie moved faster and faster and increased the soft friction of her caresses until they joined again in frantic spasms that left them even more satisfied than they had been before.

  When strength flowed back to them, Jed said, “There’s not a thing I’d like more than to stay just like we are, Jessie. But it’s getting light outside and Ki’s going to be coming back.”

  “I don’t want to move, either,” Jessie whispered. “But I know we’ve got to.” They rolled apart reluctantly. Jessie went on, “This isn’t the last time we’ll find to be together, Jed. Getting things straightened up in Hidden Valley will take time, and I’m not in a hurry now. We’ll be together again soon, I promise you.”

  “It can’t be too soon,” he replied. “I don’t think I’d ever get enough of you, Jessie, but I do know one thing. I’d sure like to try.”

  Chapter 16

  Jessie, Ki, and Jed sat pleasantly relaxed at the table in the suite’s sitting room, following a late breakfast. Jessie was holding the sheaf of papers that had arrived from Carson City by the morning mail.

  “Governor Kinkead gave us a bit more than we asked for, Ki,” she said as she refolded the papers and laid them down. “He’s commissoned Captain Bob a colonel in the territorial militia, and in his letter he says the Captain can raise a volunteer force any time an emergency threatens the peace in Hidden Valley.”

  “We’re going to be legal for a change, then.” Ki smiled. “It’s good to have someone else on our side, isn’t it?”

  “If I know the Captain, he’d have done that without waiting for the governor to tell him he could,” Jed commented. “And I’d be the first one to—” He stopped short as a knock on the door brought them all to their feet in nervous reaction from the events of the night just ended. There was a second knock, more prolonged than the first.

  Jessie said, “I don’t think we need to worry, but—”

  She went into the bedroom and came back carrying her Colt. Holding the pistol by her side, she stood against the wall beside the door and nodded to Ki. He opened the door. The man who stood waiting was young and clean-shaven. The tailoring of his suit, a strangely harmonious blend of French and British styles, was unique to San Francisco. He carried a leather briefcase.

  “Is this Miss Jessica Starbuck’s suite?” he asked. When Ki nodded, he handed over the card he held ready in his hand and asked, “Will you please announce me, then?”

  Ki glanced at the card, which read Arthur V. Barston III, Vice-president, First California Bank. Ki handed the card to Jessie, and after glancing at it, she dropped the Colt on the chair by the door and stepped around to greet the somewhat bewildered visitor.

  “Come in, Mr. Barston,” Jessie said, extending her hand. “We’re just having after-breakfast coffee. Won’t you join us?”

  Barston came in. Making only a token effort to conceal his curiosity, he looked at Ki again, then at Jed, and finally turned back to Jessie.

  “I would like coffee very much, Miss Starbuck,” he said. “I’ve just made my first trip on the Virginia & Truckee railroad, and it’s not an experience for which I was prepared.”

  “I’ve heard there are a few curves in the tracks,” Jessie commented with a smile. She indicated a chair, and Barston sat down. He held his briefcase on his lap, and put his hat on the floor beside him. Ki handed him a cup of coffee. Jessie went on, “It’s kind of you to make such a long trip, Mr. Barston. It was the only way I could be sure that the information you brought would be kept confidential and delivered promptly.”

  “Oh, of course, Miss Starbuck. And even if you weren’t a very substantial stockholder in the First California, we would have been glad to comply with any reasonable request.” Barston opened his briefcase and took out a sheaf of papers. He went on, “In your situation, though, it seems a bit strange that you should ask for information of this kind.”

  Jessie frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

  “You inquired as to the ownership of the stock in the bank in Hidden Valle
y, here in Nevada Territory, did you not?”

  “Yes. Why is that strange? I wanted the information and asked for it. Who does own the bank, Mr. Barston?”

  “You do, Miss Starbuck,” Barston replied.

  Jessie opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it, closed her mouth, and swallowed hard. She recovered from the shock quickly and asked, “How could I own it and know nothing about it?”

  “That is understandable,” Barston said pontifically. “Our bank has been acting as your agent and trustee in managing the Hidden Valley bank’s affairs. In going through the old records, I learned that the arrangement was made by your father. During his lifetime, he found no reason to give us specific instructions, so all the documents and records have been accumulating in our files as he wished. Yes, I can see why you’d have no knowledge of it.”

  “But if I give you instructions now—” Jessie began.

  “They will most certainly be followed, Miss Starbuck.”

  “Without having to change my father’s arrangement?”

  “There’s no reason to disturb it that I can see.”

  “Very well,” Jessie said. “I have only one instruction. I want you to fire Oscar Breyer today and hire a new manager.”

  Barston made no comment, but looked expectantly at Jessie. When she gave no indication of continuing, he asked, “What reason am I to give Mr. Breyer for discharging him, Miss Starbuck?”

  “You don‘t—” Jessie began, then a flicker of a smile stole over her face. “Don’t give him a reason, Mr. Barston. But some time after he’s been fired, let him find out I own the bank.”

  “If those are your instructions, we will follow them, Miss Starbuck. And the new manager?”

  “Your people can select him,” Jessie shrugged. “But, Mr. Barston, do put a man in charge who’s honest, and who understands that small farmers and ranchers have special problems. If you do that, I won’t trouble you with any more odd requests.”

  His voice puzzled, Barston asked, “You don’t want to see the bank’s financial statement? Its earning records? Its—”

  “I’ll leave those things to you, Mr. Barston.” Jessie stood up. “Thank you very much for the special service.”

  Before the bewildered banker quite understood what was happening, Ki had ushered him out of the suite and closed the door. Jessie, Ki, and Jed exchanged wide smiles.

  Jed said, “You know, Jessie, you’ve got a way of cutting right down to the bone when you set out to do something. I never saw anybody get a job finished so quick.”

  “That’s a nice thing to say, Jed, but our job’s not finished yet,” Jessie reminded him. “Frank Jeffers must have given Prosser orders, and a very free hand in carrying them out.”

  “But Jeffers is dead!” Jed exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Ki replied. “But Prosser doesn’t know that.”

  Jessie said, “The cartel’s like a snake, Jed. It lives a long time, even after its head’s been cut off. We’ve got to get back to Hidden Valley as fast as we can, and stop Karl Prosser from carrying out Jeffers’s orders.”

  “Well, I got to admit the last part of that ride was real fine, but I sure wouldn’t want to take the first part again soon,” Jed said.

  He and Jessie and Ki stood by the railroad siding in the bright afternoon sun, watching the caboose of the Central Pacific freight train diminishing in the distance.

  Because there’d been no need to return by way of Carson City, they’d saved a day in the saddle by taking the swaying, curve-beset Virginia & Truckee train from Virginia City, their horses riding in a stock car. At the junction east of Truckee, they’d switched to the CP, which had dropped them at the spur built by the South Sierra Railway Company to handle its shipments of material. A long ride still lay ahead of them, but traveling by train had cut in half the time required for their return trip.

  “If we’re going to get to Hidden Valley by midnight, we’d better start riding,” Jessie told her companions. Setting an example, she swung nimbly into the saddle and the trio started the last leg of their return trip.

  Although they’d saved time on the train, the trip from the siding to the valley was a long one. They stopped only when it was necessary to rest the horses, and wasted no time cooking, but made a supper from crusty Basque bread and piquant sausage that they ate in the saddle. The ride would have been much longer had they not been able to keep the horses on the strip of level ground beside the railroad spur. Even so, they’d been riding in darkness for what seemed an interminable time before they reached the end of the tracks laid for the cartel’s railroad.

  “It’s downhill all the rest of the way now,” Jed said encouragingly. “And we’ll make good time, because I know every inch of the trail we’ll be traveling over.”

  A sliver of moon had shown up shortly before they passed the track end, and its faint rays provided enough light for Jed to keep on the trail. They reached the north pass, and though none of them sighed audibly, they felt a surge of relief when they saw the widely separated glowing pinpoints in the night that marked farm houses, and the miniature galaxy of brighter dots that twinkled from the town.

  They’d ridden only a short distance toward the clustered lights when Jessie spoke. “Ki, Jed, it’s just occurred to me. Doesn’t it seem odd that so many people are up as late as this, in a farming town like Hidden Valley?”

  Jed spoke quickly. “I haven’t thought about it, Jessie, but it’s sure not usual. My folks go to bed before nine, every night except church meeting nights.”

  “Something has happened,” Ki said. “Perhaps we have gotten back just in time.”

  There was no way to get more speed from the weary horses. They let the animals set the pace, and held back their impatience until they reached the town. Without discussion, they turned into the street leading to Captain Tinker’s house. Even before they reached the house, they could see that it was ablaze with light. A buggy, a wagon, and several horses in front of the house kept them from riding to the door. They pulled up, dropped the reins over their horses’ heads, and hurried inside.

  Captain Tinker sat in the dining room behind a table covered with papers. Several men sat around the big table; Jessie recognized the faces of two of them, but could not remember their names. The Captain looked up when she and Ki and Jed stopped in the doorway, and slapped his hand on table.

  “Jessie!” he exclaimed. “I’m real glad to see you, and maybe a mite gladder to see Ki and Jed! Not that you aren’t welcome back, Jessie, but we need men, every one we can muster up!”

  “When you say ‘muster,’ Captain, you give me the idea you’re getting ready to fight a war,” Jessie said, holding her curiosity in check and keeping her voice calm.

  “You might say we are,” the Captain replied. “Prosser’s come out in the open now, and there’s hell to pay, Jessie. I know you’re all tired, riding in from Carson City, but pull up a chair and I’ll tell you what we’re up against.”

  “Let me tell you the good news first,” Jessie suggested. “The man who was the real boss of this railroad is dead. There won’t be a South Sierra Railway Company within a few weeks. The governor is putting through a bill for a special election, so you’ll be rid of your crooked county officials too.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard since this mess started,” the Captain said. “But I don’t see that it’s going to help us much right now. Go on and sit down, because we’re going to have to do some talking, Jessie, as well as some tall figuring, if we expect to stop this war the railroad’s started.”

  While they were getting settled, Jed asked anxiously, “You mean there’s been open fighting, Captain?”

  “Some. But there’s certain to be more.”

  “I hope nobody’s been hurt,” Jed frowned. “Daddy’s all right, isn’t he? And Blaine, how about him?”

  “Your folks are all right, Jed,” the Captain replied. “And Blaine’s out keeping an eye on things right now. But Jethro Garvey’s been killed, a
nd I imagine we haven’t seen the worst of it yet.”

  “Suppose you explain what’s happened, Captain,” Ki suggested. “We’re all very curious.”

  “It started the day after you left here,” the Captain said. “About sunset, men started drifting into town. Riders. All of them rough lookers, all of them wearing pistol belts and carrying rifles. We didn’t pay much attention at first, but pretty soon somebody remarked that they all went to that rooming house next to the saloon, and it looked like they were settling in to stay.”

  “How many?” Jessie asked tersely.

  “We don’t know for sure, Jessie. Thirty, maybe more.”

  Jessie nodded, and Captain Tinker went on with his story. “We didn’t think much of it, even then, until Karl Prosser rode out with five of the scoundrels to the Garvey place. There were a bunch of men from town there, a half-dozen or so, trying to get started building a new house for Jethro and Rose. Prosser made them another bid to buy, and Jethro kept saying no. Then Prosser told the rascals with him to get busy, and they held the Garveys and others at gunpoint and burned all the lumber that Jethro’d gotten together for his new house.”

  “It wasn’t such a much of lumber,” one of the men at the table put in when Tinker paused. “All that most of us could give them was what we had left around our own places, odds and ends of stuff. But it was all Jethro had to start building with.”

  “Well,” the Captain resumed, “Jethro got mad and rushed the gang, and one of them shot him. Then they set fire to the lumber and rode off. And that was when we got our dander up.” He turned from Jessie to the man across the table from him. “You were with Blaine at the saloon, Stewart. Tell Jessie about it.”

  “There’s not a lot to tell,” Stewart said. “Blaine rounded up five of us and we went to the saloon. Only we didn’t come close to getting there. That bunch has turned the saloon and the rooming house into a fort, Miss Jessie. They started shooting as soon as we got in rifle range. We didn’t press our luck, so nobody got hurt. We didn’t even fire a shot, because they were shooting from inside and we couldn’t see anybody to shoot at.”