“Good. I knew we could count on you. I leave in the morning for home, but if you should need anything, just let me know.”
“I will,” she promised. “Oh, by the way, would you mind taking this back to my brother?” she asked, producing a folded piece of paper. “It’s a letter. I didn’t have time to post it. He’s worried about me, and I try to keep him posted whenever I can. I doubt it will set his mind at ease, but it’s all I can offer him right now.”
“Consider it done,” Stanford told her. “And, Joe, Charlie suggests you continue to downplay the success of the CP in your newspaper stories. Perhaps if the Union Pacific doesn’t feel it’s such a threat, they’ll become careless and expose themselves without giving us over to a lot of extra work. And whatever you do, don’t mention Charlie putting men to work in Utah.”
“Very well,” Jordana replied. “I’ll write instead of the woes that have befallen the Central Pacific with missing supplies and Indian conflicts.”
Stanford nodded. “That’s just the thing. And the entire truth as well!”
14
Hidden in the alleyway across from the Meredith Manor Boarding House, Rich watched as Jordana talked intently with a gentleman who, by the look of his attire, was of some means. Rich thought he recognized the man but was uncertain. Why was Jordana here, and who was this man? Obviously they had something of great importance to discuss, for they’d had their heads together for over ten minutes. He had thought of walking by and pretending to just happen upon them but figured it would look too suspicious.
She had been so angry and hurt when they had parted in the street. He had gone back into the hotel lobby and was debating whether to seek her out when she’d made a mad dash back out into the street, giving him little chance to declare himself. Following her had been easy, but now he wondered if it had been at all prudent. He questioned his own motives, telling himself that he merely did not want her loose on the rowdy streets of North Platte without some protection. But why not call out to her and reveal his presence? He didn’t know. Perhaps he was just afraid to face her. He should never have kept from her that part of his life that had included his wife, and now that it had come out into the open, he should not continue to cling to his secret. They were friends—close friends, he hoped. It was wrong to treat Jordana so.
It was also wrong to stand in the shadows spying on her. But just as Rich had determined to let the incident slide and walk away, he saw her give her companion a piece of paper. Dodge’s concerns about Jordana being in the business of sabotaging the Union Pacific came back to haunt him. Had she managed to get herself caught up in some form of mischief? Had her brother-in-law, a man whom Rich knew worked for the Central Pacific, convinced Jordana to aid them in the destruction of the UP’s ambitious progress?
Ducking into the shadows, Rich waited until Jordana was headed back down the street before following after her at a leisurely pace. He didn’t know quite what he would say to her or how he would ever be able to find out about her dealings with the man at the boardinghouse. Perhaps, he thought, he should abandon the idea of following Jordana back to the hotel and instead go see to the identity of the man.
Torn between keeping Jordana under his protection and accepting that she was fully capable of taking care of herself, Rich finally decided to go back to Meredith Manor. After all, the man was still on the porch enjoying his cigar. Surely Rich could think of something to say that might shed some light on the man’s identity.
The iron gate moaned in protest as Rich pushed it open. He paid no attention to closing it behind him, but instead strode up the walkway as if he too were in residence in this very boardinghouse.
“Good evening,” he said as he mounted the steps.
“Good evening,” the impeccably dressed stranger replied.
“Looks like rain,” Rich offered.
“I suppose it does,” the man answered. “I hope it stops by morning. I shall be traveling and I would hate to endure closed windows and stuffy temperatures.”
“Ah, so you’ll be taking the train?”
“Yes. I have business in the West.”
“Seems like everyone does these days,” Rich said, smiling. “By the way, I’m Mr. Rich.” It was the best name he could come up with on the spot. “I’ve just come to see if there’s an available room.”
“Addison’s the name,” the stranger replied, “and I don’t think you’ll find anything available. As I understand it, the last room was let to me.”
Rich nodded. “Well then, I suppose I’ll make my way back to town. Seems a bit rowdy, but a fellow can’t always expect a quiet night’s sleep.”
“No, I suppose not,” the man said with a smile.
Rich retraced his steps and made his way straight to the hotel where Jordana had taken a room. Inquiring as to the whereabouts of her room, Rich made his way up the stairs and down the hall. He paused for a moment at the door, wondering if this was the wisest thing to do. She might very well slam the door in his face.
Deciding he would present her with an apology, Rich knocked and waited for Jordana to open the door.
“Who is it?” she asked in a low voice.
“It’s me, Rich.”
She opened the door and looked at him with surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you again. I figured I’d made you about as mad as a wet hen and you were probably halfway to Laramie.”
He grinned. “I kind of figured the same thing about you.”
She smiled, and, encouraged, he continued. “Actually, I figured we could have supper together. Maybe talk about our plans for the days to come.”
Jordana shook her head. “I think I’d better just go to bed.”
“You have to eat,” Rich pressed. “Look, the hotel has a fine dining room. Let me buy you a meal and apologize properly.”
“You’re making an apology?” she asked in disbelief.
“I have been known to do that from time to time,” he answered.
“I didn’t figure you’d ever admit to being wrong.”
He shook his head. “I never said anything about being wrong. I simply wanted to apologize. I was about to come after you before, but you shot straight past me and raced off down the street.”
She appeared to pale at this. “Supper would be fine,” she said abruptly and stepped into the hall. Pulling the door closed behind her and locking it, she looked up at Rich as if expecting him to lead the way.
Realizing that he’d somehow unnerved her, Rich motioned toward the stairs and allowed her to go first. He followed after her, wondering how to tactfully question her regarding her actions with Addison. He decided that nonchalance was probably the best bet.
“Like I said, I came after you, but then I saw you’d met up with some friend down at the Meredith Manor. I didn’t want to be rude, so I waited until you were done.”
Jordana bit at her lower lip and kept her gaze focused on the stairs. “Mr. Addison is a family friend from California. I was surprised to find him here in Nebraska.”
Rich felt a bit of relief in her statement. At least she hadn’t tried to lie to him about meeting the man. “Did you have a nice visit?”
“Yes,” Jordana replied, offering nothing else.
Rich pointed the way to the dining room and waited until a young woman seated them at a nearby table before continuing. “Did he bring you news of home? Is your family doing well?”
“They’re all fine,” Jordana replied. “I gave him a letter for Brenton. I penned it on the train. I was hoping to explain why this job is so important to me. I hate not having his support. I don’t suppose my letter will matter, but I thought I would give it a try, nevertheless.”
Rich felt all of his remaining worries fade. She hadn’t tried to conceal the fact that she’d given the man a paper. And now it all made completely good sense. She was merely writing to her brother, and with Addison headed home in the morning, it would prove to be the quickest way to get the letter to Brenton. But just as his relief was restorin
g his good nature, Jordana spoke again.
“Look, Rich, I don’t think it’s going to work out for us to be together. I’ve thought about this today, and after talking to Addison and hearing that there’re all sorts of activities going on in Utah and Nevada, activities that would make for good story material, I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave North Platte in the morning.”
Rich fought to keep his wits about him. He didn’t want to let her get away, and he still felt the need to prove to Dodge that she wasn’t a threat. “Are you just saying this because you’re angry at me? I am sorry for the way I acted.”
“I’m sure you are,” Jordana said earnestly. “I’m sorry too. I was just worried about what had happened with the Worth fellow, and I wasn’t at all sure why, when we’d been telling each other so much over our years of correspondence, you all of a sudden became so closemouthed.”
“Even so, that’s no reason to put aside our ideas of working together. Just think how much happier it would make Brenton to know you were under my protection.”
“I don’t need your protection,” Jordana replied defensively. “I was only seeking your companionship. And before I learned of the activities in the West, it seemed like an acceptable thing to stick around here with you and then travel wherever the courier business might lead you. But now it’s different.”
“Well, it doesn’t need to be,” Rich replied. “I’m sure to have work that requires my presence in Utah or even farther. General Dodge even told me that I might be used to deliver the new congressional papers regarding the discussion of where the two railroads will meet. If that’s the case, I’ll be going to California or wherever else they might need me.”
Jordana appeared to consider this for a moment. “It seems rather odd that they would send their courier that far. Why not just have the information sent by post?”
“Probably because of all the problems we’ve experienced. They won’t want to trust that information to just anyone.”
“I suppose not,” Jordana replied, not sounding completely convinced.
“So will you just humor me and wait until the day after tomorrow?” Rich asked, a gentle entreaty in his tone. “I’m sure I can have my traveling orders by then and know exactly what’s needed of me. I promise, if I can’t journey with you west, I won’t put up a fuss about you going on alone.”
She smiled at this. “Very well. But I hope that sooner or later you’ll learn to trust me.”
He gave a start at this. “What makes you think I don’t trust you? Didn’t I tell you earlier that I wanted to clear your name from being associated with anything to do with the trouble along the line?”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Jordana said soberly. “I was referring to your encounter earlier in the day. You know, you really should have put ice on that eye of yours. It looks positively awful.”
Rich touched his eye gingerly. “It’s still pretty sore, but I think some of the swelling has lessened.”
“Perhaps a drop from your miraculous blue bottle will help,” she taunted good-naturedly. When he chuckled in response, she added more earnestly, “Still, you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about what happened.”
He looked at her briefly, then turned away. “It’s not a matter of trust, Jordana. It’s an issue of pain.”
——
The following morning, Rich made his way to the railroad depot, where he hoped to get a wire off to General Dodge. It was imperative to keep the general apprised of his plans, and now that he’d promised to take Jordana west, he needed to ensure that Dodge would stand by his plans.
The westbound train was just loading, and amidst the bustle of passengers and baggage, Rich made his way to the telegraph office. He did as he’d done on several other occasions. Presenting a letter to the operator, Rich waited until the man had read the contents, then dismissed the operator to handle the telegraph himself. Tapping out the message, he sent the wire to Dodge. When he’d completed the transmission and indicated that he would not be on hand to await a reply, Rich called the telegraph operator back to his job and made his way out onto the depot platform.
He hadn’t taken two steps before Jack Casement caught up to him. “O’Brian, you takin’ the morning westbound?”
“No, I just came to send the general a wire. How about you?”
“I’m here for some supplies. They’re supposed to arrive this morning or this afternoon, and I’m to accompany them on to the front.”
Rich nodded. “Are we still making good progress?”
“For the most part. We’ve had a few Indian scares, but with the increase of army personnel, I think we’ll see a decrease in that problem. You still keepin’ time with that Montego beauty?”
Rich shook his head. “No, not that I ever was in the first place. I left the Montegos in Laramie.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Casement said suddenly.
Rich looked at the man and found his gaze fixed on one of the train passengers. It proved to be none other than Jordana’s Mr. Addison. “What is it?”
“That man,” Casement said in a low voice. “Do you know who that is?”
Rich decided to play dumb. “Not really. Who is it?”
“That’s none other than Leland Stanford, the governor of California and one of the Big Four on the Central Pacific’s board.”
Rich felt a sickening feeling settle over him. “Are you sure?”
“I’d bet my last dollar on it. I met the man once before. He looks like he’s trying to keep a low profile. I wonder if he’s been here spying on us. You know this could spell trouble for the line.”
Rich nodded. “Yes, I’m sure that’s a possibility.” He’d lost all enthusiasm for the conversation. If that man were truly Stanford, then Jordana had lied to him and so had the man in question. That the man had lied meant only that he was up to no good in Rich’s book. For some reason he didn’t want anyone to know he was in North Platte. But for Jordana to lie—well, that was an entirely different matter. Suddenly Dodge’s concerns about Joe Baldwin didn’t seem quite so unfounded.
15
Jordana sat moodily by the window, watching as the train pulled out of the North Platte station and headed down the track. Rich had gone to talk to the conductor at the other end of the car, leaving Jordana to contemplate their travels together. The small passenger car was the only one on this particular train, with the rest devoted to freight. They were carrying supplies west—supplies for the various settlements along the rail, as well as supplies for the building of the Union Pacific Railroad.
Jordana tried not to worry over what Rich was up to or how he might end up figuring into her investigation. She didn’t like feeling so hemmed in, and in truth, had never before thought of travel with Rich as anything but fun. But this wasn’t fun. They were on edge for unspoken reasons. Perhaps it was because they were both so intent on their duties. Jordana knew she owed it to Charlie to find out who was causing problems for the Central Pacific, but she also cared about Rich, and her feelings for him would not be set aside. And the wall caused by his secret ate away at her heart in a most distressing way.
Staring absentmindedly upward, Jordana noted the overhead racks that lined the top of the passenger car above the windows. There, a supply of rifles and ammunition awaited any need the passengers might have. The Union Pacific had been carrying extra firearms this way for some time now, and Jordana knew there had arisen more than one occasion requiring their use.
She thought it a decent precaution, but for all the times she’d ridden back and forth on the UP line, she’d never seen any real need for it. Once, she recalled, when traveling from Cheyenne to North Platte, she had witnessed a group of Indians gathered on a ridge in the distance. They had watched the train with seeming indifference, then rode hard in the opposite direction as if to put distance between the past and the future. Jordana felt sorry for the Indians who inhabited the plains. As much as she supported the railroad, it was true it would forever change the l
ives of these natives. No change came easily, especially when it was forced upon people, such as the government was doing to the Indians. It should be no surprise that they would fight back. She’d heard of their raids and their savage attacks, but she’d also read accounts of peaceful tribes being attacked without provocation by white soldiers bent on revenge. Surely not all Indians were bad, just as all white men were not without feeling for their plight.
“You seem awfully deep in thought,” Rich said, sliding into the seat beside her.
“I was just thinking about the Indians and the railroad. How strange it must be to have spent your entire life out here, and all of a sudden you find this great iron beast tearing through the stillness of the countryside. I remember my mother speaking of seeing her first train. Some people likened it to a monster. Women fainted and children cried. It appeared to be both the beginning of something wonderful and the end of the world. I’m sure the tribes out here feel much the same.”
Rich nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Still, it doesn’t give them license to attack and kill our men just because they don’t like progress.”
“I don’t suppose compromise is easy to reach in such cases. Especially given the feelings of most whites that the Indian has no right to any of this land or its benefits.”
“I don’t think it’s exactly fair to lump all whites into the same way of thinking. There have been a great many men who have advocated leaving the plains to the Indians. There were all manner of arrangements to keep whites east of the Mississippi and let the Indians have everything between there and the Rockies. But folks got greedy and adventurous and inventive. They saw a different future and a vast expanse of promising territory.”
“And the Indian had no part in that,” Jordana replied softly. “I know it’s a dichotomy. I can reason it for myself. What part can they possibly play in white society? Just look at the freedmen in this country. They are struggling, in some ways worse now than when they were slaves. They are often turned away from jobs, they are allowed only the poorest of housing, and they are still being refused schooling in many areas. My mother wrote me of this, so I know it must be true,” she said with great conviction. “And they speak English. Some can even read and write. They dress appropriately when they are well-enough off to have proper clothing, and still they are denied the rights white people take for granted. Where does that leave the Indians, who for the most part cannot speak English and dress in ways that we often find scandalously offensive?”
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