Judith Pella, Tracie Peterson - [Ribbons West 03]

by Ties That Bind

  “Do you know how men like that celebrate?” Rich asked with emphasis.

  Jordana grinned. “Eb says it involves women and whiskey. The stronger the better, as he likes them both with a bit of kick.”

  “Listen to yourself!” Rich exclaimed in complete exasperation.

  “I’d advise you to do the same.” Jordana looked at him intently, turning suddenly solemn. “Do you really think I’m going to set myself up for exposure? Do you honestly believe me so stupid that I would let them liquor me up and treat me to a night with some washerwoman or saloon girl?”

  She was surprised to see, even in the evening light, Rich grow embarrassed by her statements. Looking down at the ground, he asked, “Does your brother know what you’re doing?”

  Jordana snickered. “I doubt very much that Charlie Crocker had the guts to tell him.”

  “Charlie Crocker? The same one who’s in charge of building the Central Pacific? Why is he involved with what you’re doing?”

  Jordana didn’t like the suspicion in his tone. She realized she was perilously close to betraying her true mission. She was coming to doubt if Rich would understand about her spying for Charlie, and she certainly didn’t expect him to approve her plan. No, it was best if she kept him believing she was doing nothing more than writing stories.

  Considering her answer carefully, Jordana replied, “Brenton is taking photographs for Charlie Crocker. That’s how I get ahold of my brother. It’s either that, or I have to send letters through my sister Victoria and then wait for Kiernan to have a chance to find Brenton. Oh, speaking of Victoria, did I tell you she’s finally going to have a baby? We’re all very happy.”

  “Jord—Joe, you’re changing the subject.”

  Jordana smiled. “Yes, I am. You are much too serious and worried. I think you should take a rest, Captain O’Brian.”

  “I’m no longer a captain.”

  “That’s right,” Jordana replied, “so I expect that you won’t be trying to boss me around anymore.”

  With a sigh, he shook his head. “I’m not trying to boss you around now. I’m just worried about your well-being. There’s been enough trouble on this line, and now with you involved, it’s bound to double.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” Jordana responded curtly, turning to go. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me again.”

  Rich was immediately at her side. “You know I’m happy to see you,” he muttered low. “I’m just not happy to see you passing yourself off as a boy.”

  “A man,” Jordana corrected. “I’m supposed to be a young man.”

  “Yeah, sure. I wish you’d reconsider and go home,” Rich replied.

  Jordana began walking back toward the party. “I am going home. Probably within the next week. I miss my family, don’t you know? But I’ll be back. There’s just too much work to do.”

  Rich reached out and took hold of her arm. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.”

  “Are you offering to go with me as my bodyguard?” Jordana said mockingly. She didn’t have any idea what she might do if he replied in the affirmative.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Although I think someone ought to be following you around full time. You know as well as I that every time I’ve come in contact with you, you’ve been in one kind of trouble or another.”

  “Did it ever dawn on you, Mr. O’Brian, that you might be the problem? I don’t seem to have too much trouble at all until you appear on the scene. Maybe it’s your fault.”

  “Look, I’m just suggesting that you’re out of your league here. You need to be careful.” The exasperation in his tone was clear.

  She took pity on him, forgetting about her own insecurity earlier. “I promise to be careful, Rich. Don’t worry so much. I only knife-fight with my eyes open these days.”

  She left him standing there, wishing with all her heart she could continue talking with him. There were a million unspoken questions, and the answers were clearly within Rich’s grasp. Why did she have to like him so much? Why did she have to care what he thought?

  Forcing herself to go back among the crowd milling about the parade grounds, Jordana wondered what Rich would think of her mission. Would he understand? Being a logical man, it would seem he’d view it as most productive. Dangerous, maybe. But definitely productive.

  The next morning she traveled back to the railroad camp with Jack Casement. She had no further opportunity to see Rich and decided it was better that way. She had wanted to tell him all about her work for Charlie and enlist his help, but her intuition told her to hold off and say nothing. Something made her most uneasy about the whole situation, and while she couldn’t explain it, she felt slightly guilty for not being honest with Rich.

  After two more days at the camp, Jordana felt it was definitely time to get back to Charlie. The only problem was, she couldn’t very well wire the information without it being clear to the telegraph operator that she was a spy for the Central Pacific. She thought of sending a post, but realized that could take weeks given the problems that always seemed to hound the postal service. She decided to keep to their previous arrangement to meet in Reno. How to get there was another problem. Then her problem resolved itself when the same freighters she’d ridden into camp with reappeared with their weekly shipment of produce. Hitching a ride back to town was no problem at all, and from there it would be a simple matter of taking the stage. If seats were available.

  Word was rumored to her that Charlie had moved into the Utah Territory in order to press forward a claim he’d made for the Central Pacific. Jordana hoped this was the case and arranged with the stage driver to leave her off if they should find this to be true, but there was never any sign of the man and his railroad, so Jordana traveled, as originally planned, to Reno.

  Where only weeks ago there had been little more than a watering hole, Reno was now a city fully grown. Over two hundred crude structures stood as witness to the boom that had been brought about by the arrival of the Central Pacific. With a deep sense of amazement, Jordana stepped off the stage into a world she couldn’t even begin to recognize.

  Tasting the dirt in her mouth and realizing that her clothes and body were just about as dirty as they could possibly be, Jordana desired nothing more than to find a bath. The stage had stopped not far from one of the newly arranged hotels, but Jordana felt an uneasiness at taking up residence there. A group of rather rough-looking fellows stood outside the place calling out and harassing passing travelers. At one point, Jordana watched as one man stuck out his leg and tripped a young suit-clad man. Jordana could only imagine what they might do to her.

  Mustering up her courage, Jordana picked up her bags and headed down the street in the opposite direction. The stage driver had told her of a more respectable boardinghouse several blocks away, and Jordana figured this would be far more to her liking. But before she could get that far, Jordana was nearly run over by a crush of people. Momentarily expecting to be in the midst of a full-blown fistfight, Jordana instead found herself surrounded by giggling young ladies who couldn’t have been much older than herself.

  Dressed in delicately patterned gowns with their hair hanging in curls from high atop their heads, the girls were clearly a part of some more formal celebration. Jordana was surprised by her unwelcome feelings of envy. For the first time in a long while, she actually missed her feminine clothing. She even missed the companionship of other women. The girls giggled and chattered, all the while moving off toward what appeared to be a church. It was only then that Jordana realized one of the young women wore a veil atop her artfully styled hair. The revelation explained the entire matter. They were a wedding party making their way to church.

  Jordana tried not to be overcome with feelings of sadness. There was no reason to feel so out of sorts, but looking down at her dusty attire and manly design, she felt a longing to once again be a lady. And why not? she reasoned. After all, that’s what I am.

  But then t
he hard realization of the task before her set in. She had a job to do—a job that could not be done in ruffles and petticoats. She had to continue the pretense of being Joe Baldwin. With a sigh, she continued down the road. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she had missed God’s plan for her life and had instead chosen one that was taking her ever farther away from His will for her. She wished she could talk to Rich about the entire matter, but she knew what his counsel would be. He didn’t understand why she was doing these things. And with good reason. Jordana wasn’t entirely sure she herself understood, so how could Rich possibly know?

  11

  Jordana had a brief meeting in Reno with Crocker, imparting what little she had learned thus far about the Central Pacific’s competitors. She also had a visit with Brenton and Caitlan. It was wonderful seeing them again and just being with family. Yet she always felt their—well, mostly Brenton’s—disapproval of her activities. She hated his being upset with her, and she hated causing him to worry, thus she decided to remain in the Reno area for a time, where Brenton and Caitlan had taken up temporary residence as they photographed the progress of the railroad.

  Jordana devoted much of her time to the work of the Central Pacific, and it wasn’t long before her days began to follow a predictable routine. Every camp was very nearly the same. The horses and mules needed to help with hauling the supplies were staked out at the edge of the camp, the carts and wagons positioned to neatly wall them into a compact circle. Mule skinners and blacksmiths were available to see to the animals’ needs, and with the first shrill whistle at dawn until the end of work at sunset, these men and their animals were vital to the building of the line.

  The men worked well together, having learned the smoothest path of least resistance. The graders and bridge builders were set out ahead of the main track layers. They were responsible for the preparation work necessary to bring the line forward. Jordana, maintaining her persona of Joe Baldwin, mingled among the men, listening to their tales and collecting information as she went. As Joe Baldwin, no one was overly concerned at her presence. Charlie had made it clear that Joe was to be allowed access to the camps.

  As was the routine, a supply train would arrive just before dawn. With little ceremony, iron plates, ties, spikes, and rails were unloaded, along with an assortment of hardware and telegraph poles. As the railroad was built, new telegraph lines were installed to provide instant communication for the workers on the line.

  Once the train was emptied, the workmen could draw from the supplies throughout the day. Ties were carried along on wagons; rails were more readily moved on low flatcars. These were, in truth, little more than frames on wheels drawn by the horses or mules over the already positioned tracks. Weighing in excess of 560 pounds each, these steel ribbons were meticulously pounded into position through the seemingly inexhaustible efforts of the Irish and Chinese workers.

  Taking tea with several Chinese workers one afternoon, Jordana found the tables turned on her. Instead of asking the men questions and listening to their broken English answers, she was the focus of their interest.

  “You plenty small for a man,” one man told her. “You know how to fight?”

  Jordana shook her head. “Can’t say that I do.” She couldn’t imagine where this line of questioning would lead.

  “You need learn way to fight,” another man, this one younger and more talkative than the others, stated. He stood and motioned to Jordana to do the same. “You take off coat. I teach you.”

  Jordana smiled and shook her head. “That’s all right. We don’t need to worry about it. I carry a small pistol in my satchel.”

  “What if can’t get gun? Look here, you do this,” the older of the three ordered. “You not big. You not like other men.”

  If they only knew, Jordana thought to herself. Standing up with great reluctance, Jordana shrugged out of her coat. She wasn’t at all sure where this would end up, but she saw no other way to deal with the situation.

  “You need to be fast,” the man told her. He reached out with lightning-quick reflexes and took hold of Jordana’s wrist. Before she realized what was happening, the man had somehow flipped her over onto her backside.

  The three Chinese laughed heartily at her stunned reaction. Staring up at the man who had deemed himself her teacher, Jordana could only join them in laughing.

  “You not fast enough, Preacher.”

  “Preacher” was the nickname some of the Irish had given her, and the name had stuck. Refusing to join the men for nightly brawls or sojourns into the saloons, Jordana chose instead to remain in camp quietly reading the only book she had in her possession at the time—her Bible. One of the men, seeing her interest in Scripture and lack of vices, deemed her to be the camp preacher, and that was the beginning of a new identity. Now even the Chinese had taken it up.

  Dusting off her backside, Jordana got up slowly. “Well, you’ve proven your point,” she said, meeting the sinewy man’s knowing nod. He was hardly taller than she. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little bit. Especially if you can teach me to do what you just did.”

  The man grinned. “I show you plenty, Preacher.”

  ——

  Jordana could not say her weeks in the Reno area were a complete waste. Just what she learned from her Chinese friends was invaluable, and she had a feeling these Oriental fighting methods they called “jujitsu” might well save her life someday. She tried to ignore her growing restlessness, and when Charlie approached her about going to North Platte to check out some rumors he’d heard about a new rail-laying technique the UP had developed, she turned him down. Her relationship with Brenton seemed to be improving, and she simply was reluctant to do anything that might harm it.

  However, this seemed an especially futile endeavor one day when she returned home to the little rented house she shared with Brenton and Caitlan. She was covered with dust and grit from crawling about in a tunnel to get the true feel of the Welsh workers’ experience.

  “You look awful,” Brenton had told Jordana with a grimace. “I can’t believe you continue to do this to yourself.”

  “You should have seen me two hours ago!” she laughed as she shrugged out of her ruined jacket, which she hung on a peg next to Brenton’s clean woolen coat.

  “Jordana, you cannot keep venturing about as a man. One of these days someone is going to find out.”

  “Yar brother’s right,” Caitlan put in. “Ya’ll end up getting yarself killed.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Jordana sat in a chair and began tugging off her mud-caked boots. “I know how to stay out of trouble.”

  “Since when?” Brenton snorted.

  With one boot gripped in her hand, Jordana lifted narrow, defensive eyes toward her brother. “I have an important job to do. And this is the best way to do it.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  But that didn’t stop Brenton. “Charlie can find someone else to do his spying—preferably a real man!”

  “I wish you would stop this, Brenton. I’m tired of your constantly standing in my way. I have a peace about what I am doing.”

  “Do you have a peace about defying our parents?” he rejoined sharply. “They would never condone your behavior.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Jordana responded confidently. “They have never stood in the way of us fulfilling our dreams. I admit dressing as a man isn’t exactly my dream, but it is the most expedient way to achieve it. I did in fact write Mother and Father about Joe Baldwin, and though they were a little shocked, they only told me to be careful.” She smiled inwardly as she recalled that letter from her mother, who had adjured her to take care of herself and her new “son” Joe.

  “Brenton,” Jordana went on, “your support means a lot to me, but I cannot build my life entirely upon it. I wish you could accept me as I am, but I will be who I am regardless.”

  Brenton gazed at her long and hard, making Jordana feel uncomfortable beneath his close scrutiny. But she held her ground.

  Finally, with a
heavy sigh, he replied, “I see I have no say in your life. I just thought you might care about my feelings on the matter.” With that he turned to leave the room.

  “Brenton, I—”

  But he hurried out the door before she could finish. No more was said on the matter when he returned, and the next day, Jordana accepted Charlie’s assignment to go to North Platte. It seemed best for now to put some space between herself and Brenton. She hated hurting him, yet she truly believed she had been right in telling him she could not always fashion her life to suit him. She prayed they could one day come to terms with these issues. She prayed it would be one day soon.

  ——

  “There’s been nothing but trouble since that newspaper fellow was here,” Dodge told Rich O’Brian. “I’m not sure if it’s coincidence or merely the fact that more information has been put out there for public consumption, but we’re now facing yet another matter of sabotage.”

  “What has happened?” Rich knew full well Jordana couldn’t have been to blame.

  “Explosive materials have gone missing,” Dodge replied. “There have been other supplies missing as well, but this is the most worrisome.”

  Rich nodded. “I can understand why.”

  “Worst of all, the supplies were stolen from here in Laramie. Taken from right under our noses on the night of that big party at the fort.”

  Rich considered his encounter with Jordana and knew beyond doubt that she’d had nothing to do with it. Jordana had departed from Laramie fairly suddenly after they met, but he was almost certain her departure had more to do with him and his displeasure in her than in the Union Pacific. “I spent time with Baldwin,” he finally said. “I don’t think he’s at all interested in sabotage.”

  “Have you heard anything suspicious? Seen anything?” Dodge questioned sharply. “Have your travels not rendered you even one possibility as far as who is responsible for this interference? Perhaps Baldwin is in cahoots with someone else. Someone who does the dirty work after Baldwin learns all the answers.”