——
The last thing Jordana expected that afternoon was a telegram. She immediately feared some calamity had befallen Rich or her parents and sat down in Victoria’s front room, staring at the paper for several moments, before allowing herself to scan the message.
“Hope this finds you well. Your sister too,” Jordana read aloud. “Caught B. Montego, but Isabella escaped. Be careful. The frontier has grown rather boring without you. Yours fondly, Rich.” She reread the last sentence. “Yours fondly? Since when?” She mused over this so thoroughly that she didn’t hear Kiernan come into the room.
“I heard someone at the door,” he said.
“Yes. I had a telegram from Rich O’Brian. You remember him, don’t you?”
“Aye, that I do,” Kiernan said, readjusting the black eye patch. “I’m rememberin’ that the two of ya looked mighty fine together.”
Jordana’s cheeks burned suddenly. “Well . . . ah . . . we’re good friends.”
“That’s the best way to be startin’ out.”
“Starting what out?” she asked innocently.
Kiernan grinned and gave her a wink with his good eye. “Ya go on and play those games with somebody else. I’m no fool. I can see how ya feel about the man. Mebbe it’s time ya saw for yarself how ya feel about him and do somethin’ about it.”
Jordana smiled. “Well, I just might at that. Charlie wants me to report about the progress of the Central Pacific, and the Tribune demands I be on hand at the joining of the rails. Are you certain you won’t be going back on the line? I could travel with you.”
“No, I’ll not be going back. Charlie and I agreed it’s best for me to do what’s important to me. I’ve a hankerin’ to make furniture. I’m good at it, if I do say so meself.”
“Yes, you are,” Jordana quickly agreed. “And a fine house builder as well.”
“Well, now, there I did have me fair share of help, but furniture is me true love. Second only to me wife and our son.”
Jordana stood. “I kind of figured that would be your answer, and I can’t say I don’t admire you immensely for it. You’re a fine man, Kiernan. I’ve always thought so. And now, you’re a father and rightly so, for I cannot imagine a man who could possibly love a child more than you do.”
“God go with ya, little sister!” Kiernan leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“God go with her where?” Victoria inquired, gliding into the room with little James in her arms.
“I’m heading back up the line,” Jordana announced, realizing that her heart had already set her plans in motion. “First, however, I need to find me a pair of trousers, a couple of work shirts, and a good sturdy hat. I’m not going to cut my hair again, not now when it’s finally reaching my shoulders, but I’ll need to hide it.”
Victoria laughed. “Oh, Jordana! You’ll be the end of proper society and fashion as we know it.”
“Maybe that will be for the better,” Jordana declared. “Trousers are quite comfortable and certainly nowhere near as confining. Maybe you should get yourself a pair.”
“And for sure she’d better not,” Kiernan replied. “I wear the pants in this house.”
Jordana laughed and shook her head. “Which is precisely why I am leaving.”
29
Jordana was happy to be back among the track layers and graders. It made her wonder about her longings about home and family while in Sacramento. She felt more conflicted than ever.
The men exhibited an infectious eagerness as the tracks moved ever closer to completion. Competitions and wagers were constantly going on to see who could do the most work, lay the most track, grade the most road. Often the men challenged each other in teams, and always Jordana watched and wrote and dreamed of the day when the railroad would actually connect the East to the West in one long, continuous iron ribbon. The wounded country would be bound together. Now with General Grant as president of the United States, Jordana felt confident that the progress could move forward. The War Between the States would fade from memory and the settling of the western territories would take precedence in conversations and plans. An old age would pass away and a new one would take its place.
She wondered about the future as she watched the railroad workers expend their energies on a line some might not even live to see to completion. Workers led a hard life. There were dangers from the explosives used, dangers from the elements. There was even the toll the work itself took on the body. Men had to be sturdy and capable, healthy and well-muscled, in order to swing those hammers from sunup to sunset, not to mention carrying rails that easily weighed six hundred pounds apiece. And while the latter task was done as a team, there were still duties that taxed the body nigh onto death. Lesser men grew weak and sick; some even died from heart attacks, passing away in such horrible pain and misery that it left everyone lethargically transfixed for hours afterward. Snakebites had claimed the lives of several men while Jordana had been along the route, and while laying track in the Sierra Nevada, two men had met their death from a mountain lion attack, and another half dozen had died in rockslides. The life of a railroad man was simply not an easy one; neither was it always a happy one.
Jordana had picked up with her routine of interviewing the men about their jobs and asking questions about their homelife and families. Many of the men were lonely and far from home. Some had families; others had no one in the entire world who even knew if they lived or died.
Jordana often sorrowed at the stories she heard. Some of the men seemed so hopeless. They had no idea where they would go after the railroad was completed. They’d come west in hope of making their fortune, but now they felt that hope was gone. Even the Chinese suffered this fate.
Jordana had reestablished her nickname of Preacher and had also taken up giving Bible readings on Sunday mornings. At first only a few men showed up to listen, but usually within the hour there were nearly fifty men gathered round. Some of the men looked as if they were hungry for the Scriptures, while others just looked bored and indifferent. Either way, Jordana felt good about sharing this part of her faith with the men.
Meeting up with some of the Chinese who had befriended her, Jordana found her skills rekindled in the art of self-defense as well as her meager ability to speak their language. She even managed to get a long, detailed account of China and the trip many had endured to come to America. It would make a great story in the future, and perhaps after the railroad was completed, she could suggest an entire series on the Chinese in America.
But through it all, Jordana continued to think of Rich. She often took out the telegram he had sent and reread the words “Yours fondly.” Was he really hers? Could she ever hope this to be the case between them?
Nearly a week before, the final point of joining the Union Pacific and Central Pacific had been agreed upon. Promontory Summit would be the place where the building would finally come to an end. Jordana knew very little of the area, with exception to what she could dig out of Charlie. But of late, he was so preoccupied with seeing the thing completed that he had little patience for her or her stories. He was often to be found with sleeves rolled up and working right alongside his men. He told Jordana, “I believe if it becomes necessary to jump off the dock in the service of the company, instead of saying, ‘Go boys,’ one must pull off his coat and say, ‘Come boys.’ ” He followed his own words.
There came to be a general frenzy of activities along the railroad, and emotions and tempers flared through misunderstandings more than once. It was the best of times to be alive, Jordana decided. Glancing around at all that she had witnessed, she knew without doubt she could not have been happy any place else on earth. Unless, of course, that place was with Rich.
In an effort to locate Charlie farther up the line, Jordana left one camp for another. She caught the train as it headed up to the front of the tracks, hauling with it a good portion of supplies. There was still much to do, but the most difficult portions of the Central Pacific were already built. They had c
onquered the Sierra, and now the path to Promontory seemed like an easy accomplishment.
Sighing, Jordana got up from her seat and walked to the end of the passenger car where a tank of water and a tin cup were kept for thirsty passengers. Satisfying her thirst, she returned down the aisle, barely sidestepping in time as a willowy-looking man strode past her in the opposite direction. The fellow, a young man, looked vaguely familiar, but for the life of her, Jordana couldn’t place him. Curiosity got the better of her, and seeing the man take down a bundle from one of the racks overhead, Jordana watched as he moved to the end of the car and opened the door to the outside platform.
How very strange, she thought. And before she knew what was happening, Jordana had followed the man outside. Evening was coming on rather quickly in spite of the balmy spring day. The sun faded against the western horizon, catching Jordana’s eye for just a moment before she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
“What are you doing out here?” came a low voice from the shadows of the platform.
Jordana jerked around, only to find herself staring into the eyes of the last person she had expected. “Isabella Montego?”
“Do you think you’re the only one who can dress in pants and disguise your identity?” Isabella asked smugly. “You didn’t invent the idea, you know.”
“I didn’t think I had,” Jordana replied, shaken but regaining her composure. “I just find it surprising that someone who appeared as particular as you did about your fashions and hair would run about in knee boots and trousers. What are you doing out here?”
“I asked you that first,” Isabella said, her voice clearly angry. “Besides, I have the gun, so why don’t you just go ahead and answer before I lose my patience.”
“I thought I recognized you, so I followed. I didn’t expect it to be you,” Jordana admitted. Then, with a steady gaze, added, “Now that I’ve told you why I came, why don’t you tell me why you have a gun on me?”
“You’re the enemy. I always take care of my enemies,” she replied coolly.
“I see, and why is it that I’m the enemy?” Jordana thought it was best to feign ignorance about Rich and his capture of Baxter Montego.
“You know very well,” Isabella sneered. “You and O’Brian have caused my father’s plans to take a bit of a turn. But never fear—I’ll find a way to free my father, and with you both out of the way, we should be able to accomplish whatever we set our minds to. I nearly had O’Brian taken care of back in Laramie. He never even knew it was me he’d met that night after arranging with my father to have someone help him plot against the Central Pacific.” She laughed harshly. “As you well know, a pair of pants and a hat worn low over your face are most effective. No one gives you much consideration, at least. I don’t know how he ever managed to get out of that situation, but sooner or later he’ll make a mistake and I’ll be there to take advantage of it.”
“If you try to hurt him, I’ll—”
Isabella grimaced scornfully. “You’ll what? Dead men, or women for that matter, are hardly any threat to me. And believe me, you will soon be quite dead.” She leveled the gun at Jordana’s heart. “Pity you couldn’t have been on the right side.”
Without warning, Jordana leaped into the air, taking hold of the platform rail. With one swift kick she sent the gun flying from Isabella’s hands. It clattered for a moment against the platform before slipping over the side to be forever lost along the Central Pacific route. Her practice of Chinese self-defense had paid off.
Isabella seemed undaunted, however. She was a cool number. And even as Jordana was recovering from her own action, Isabella had grabbed up the bundle at her feet and swiftly vaulted over the railing. Jordana stared in surprise as Isabella jumped the short distance between cars and took hold of the ladder on the end of the opposite car. In a flash, Isabella was up the ladder and on top of the baggage car. Jordana spent only a moment wondering what she should do. Clearly the woman was up to no good, and there was nothing else to do but pursue the culprit up to the top of the car.
Not letting another moment pass, Jordana went to the platform railing and climbed over. She held tightly to the rail, her feet narrowly fixed on the platform overhang. Nervously, she watched the landscape fly past beneath her feet. This was a very stupid thing to do, she told herself, even as she reached to close the distance and take hold of the iron rungs of the ladder.
Just as she managed to get a good grip on the ladder with her left hand, the train shifted rather hard to the left. Losing her footing, she sailed out over the opening between the joined cars. Holding on for dear life with only one hand, Jordana felt as though she were a flag flying in the wind. For a split second, it was both perilous and wonderful and then she was slammed back up against the car, her right hand searching madly for a hold on the rungs.
Panting for breath, Jordana struggled to climb up the ladder and pull herself up on top of the car. She would never have given it a second thought to climb topside at any other time, and in fact had done it a few times before, but with the train in motion, it clearly raised the stakes. Scanning down the car, Jordana couldn’t catch any sign of Isabella. Licking her dry lips and trying to swallow the lump of fear in her throat, Jordana crawled along the top of the car on her hands and knees. She’d seen grown men walk the top of the car while it was moving, but she wasn’t about to give this a try for herself. She supposed she was becoming more cautious in her old age, but the risk of this type of adventure simply seemed foolhardy.
From time to time she’d feel the train hit a rough spot, and at those times she’d flatten herself against the top and grab on to anything that presented itself as a handhold. Her heart pounded wildly, and all she could do was pray for strength and help. This has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever attempted, she told her heavenly Father, but I have to stop Isabella before she can hurt anyone else. Please help me.
She had no sooner breathed the silent prayer than she came to the end of the car. There was nowhere to go but over the side or across to the next car. Which way had Isabella chosen? Where had she gone? It was then that Jordana heard a moaning sound. It seemed to come from over the side of the car. Moving closer to the edge, Jordana was horrified to find Isabella clinging to the top by her fingers.
“Here, let me help you,” Jordana said, flattening against the roof.
“Get away from me,” Isabella managed to say between clenched teeth.
“I only want to help. I’ll grab hold of your wrist and—”
“I don’t need your help.” And then as if to prove her point, Isabella somehow managed to hook her foot into the ladder and regain control.
Jordana breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the knots in her stomach push her close to losing her supper. She watched Isabella struggle to reach the bundle, which she had apparently dropped as she’d lost her hold going over the side. The bundle rode precariously between the two cars, fixed atop the coupling piece.
“Isabella, it’s too far to reach,” Jordana called down. “Don’t be a fool.”
“I told you,” Isabella said, glancing up only for a moment, and even then, there was no fear in the woman’s eyes, but only cold determination. “I don’t need your help. I have enough dynamite here to blow you and this entire line to kingdom come.”
Jordana had heard of this new explosive from Charlie. He found it only marginally more stable than nitroglycerin. “You’ll never reach it,” Jordana yelled.
“If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.” And Isabella stretched out away from the ladder, still not close enough to snag the bundle.
Jordana held her breath and watched in terror. “Please, Isabella. I won’t say anything about what you planned to do tonight until you’re well away. You’ll have a good head start before I get a chance to tell the authorities of your whereabouts. Just please, forget the dynamite and climb down. You can get off at the first stop—”
Isabella only laughed. She was still laughing when she lost her
grip and fell onto the bundle. Only then did terror flicker in her eyes. But somehow, with her grace and agility, she managed to keep from slipping from her new perch on the coupling piece. But this amazing luck only lasted until the train hit another rough spot and then without warning, Isabella fell between the cars and was gone. Without so much as time to scream, she was crushed beneath the wheels of the train she had hoped to destroy.
Jordana stared at the place she’d last seen Isabella, finding it impossible to believe what she’d just witnessed. One moment the young woman had been there and the next minute—nothing. A wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. Isabella Montego was dead.
Jordana couldn’t say how long she lay on top of that train car frozen in stunned horror. The skies passed from a soft muted lavender to navy and then black before Jordana regained her senses. Realizing that she had to get down, Jordana couldn’t bring herself to go over the same side that Isabella had taken. Yet, the dynamite had to be retrieved before the rough movement of the train caused it to finish what Isabella had intended. She forced her rubbery legs and arms into motion, and only by sheer grit, and much silent prayer, did she descend the ladder. She ducked back into the car, found the poker for the stove, and with this, managed to grasp the satchel of dynamite, which she flung as hard as she could into the prairie grass. The explosion shook the tracks and the moving train, and Jordana had to grip the platform rail to keep her feet, but there was no rail damage that day.
Still sickened at the thought of what she’d witnessed, Jordana made her way to her seat. She would find Charlie at the next stop and let him know what had happened. And then she would wire Rich with the news that Isabella Montego was no longer a threat.
30
“And then she fell between the cars,” Jordana told Charlie Crocker, still in a state of shock.
Judith Pella, Tracie Peterson - [Ribbons West 03] Page 26