The Union Belle

by Gilbert, Morris

  Wallford shook his head. “I’m paying you plenty, Cherry. If your hired hands can’t cut the mustard, get rid of them and hire some who can.”

  Goldman glared at Wallford, but clamped his lips together. He was a man with few complexities. His one fixed idea was that he could stand up to any man in the world, and yet twice Winslow had backed him down.

  The door opened and Maureen came in with a tray of sandwiches and several schooners of beer. “I brought the lunch, Mr. Valance.”

  “Put it on the table, Maureen,” Cherry said absently. His mind was on Wallford, and he did not notice the soft look that the girl gave Dempsey. As she began laying the food out on a round table, he said, “You’ve got your money’s worth, Jason.”

  Wallford threw down the cards he still held in his hand and his voice grew louder. “You don’t know what’s going on. This isn’t a game of horseshoes where you get points for being close. It’s all the marbles—or none! Whoever gets to Ogden first will get the terminal. The other road will have a thousand miles of track ending up no place.” There was a streak of raw impatience in his voice as he added, “If you can’t do the job, Cherry, I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  Valance’s face flushed, and he made a violent gesture with his hand, slicing the air. “You’re pushing the wrong man, Wallford!” Maureen recognized the cruelty that she had seen in the man before, and she caught Dempsey’s glance as she poured the beer into glasses. He saw her nervousness and gave a slight shake of his head, then smiled reassuringly.

  Goldman said, “It ain’t very complicated. It’s just one man in the way.”

  “That’s right,” Wallford snapped instantly. “But you don’t seem to have any luck with Winslow. What’s the matter, Lou—you scared of him?”

  Goldman’s thin face grew tight, and he gritted his teeth. “I’ll take care of him—don’t worry about that!”

  Cherry said, “There’s only one way to take care of Winslow, Lou. Don’t waste your time thinking about anything else.”

  “Sure,” Goldman murmured. “I know that.”

  Hayden wanted to speak up, to protest, but the thought of the nice packet of bills in Wallford’s pocket prevented him from saying anything. He wiped a thin sheen of perspiration from his brow.

  Wallford caught the gesture and studied Hayden carefully as he remarked, “Ray, it was your idea to stop the line at Camp Two. You’ve done a good job—but we need something that will really put a crimp in the Union—and we need it quick.”

  Ray was still thinking about the threat to Mark, and he said absently, “I’ll see what I can come up with. But I truly don’t think the Union has a chance to beat the Central, Jason. They’ll bog down in the Wasatch Mountains when they get caught in the dead of winter. Nobody could build a railroad through that kind of terrain, especially not in the middle of the snowstorms that hit that area.”

  “You may be right,” Wallford conceded. “But we can’t take the chance. Find some weak spot as soon as you can.” He smiled sardonically, adding, “You’ve got a pretty good thing, Ray. All you have to do is pass a word. It’s Cherry and Goldman who have to do the hard work.” He turned and said, “Cherry, this thing about Winslow—you’ll have to take care of him.”

  Maureen had finished setting the table, and reached the door as Wallford spoke. He caught the expression on her face, and as soon as she left, he said, “What about that girl? She heard a lot.”

  Dempsey smiled and smoothed his moustache. “No problem there.”

  Cherry studied the man, then said, “She gave you trouble once, Bob.”

  Dempsey’s lips formed a cruel line. He moved his heavy shoulders and said softly, “If you remember, Cherry, I taught her a lesson. She won’t get out of line.”

  Wallford and Valance were silent for a few moments, then Valance nodded at the Central’s spy. “It’ll be okay, Jason. And don’t worry about Winslow, Lou and I will take care of it.”

  “You’d better,” Wallford frowned. “We’re coming down to the wire—and none of us will get any cake if we don’t stop the Union. It’s up to you now, Ray,” he added. “Get something for us quick.”

  Ray nodded. “I’ll do what I can, Jason. Shouldn’t be too hard. There are a lot of weak links—and the Union’s out of money.”

  They broke up then, and Dempsey went at once to find Maureen. He slipped his arm around her and smiled. “How about we have us a party tonight, honey—just the two of us.”

  She responded with a smile and leaned against him, then a worried light came into her eyes. “Bob, what about Mark Winslow?”

  He tightened his grip so that she gave a slight gasp. “Honey, you just forget all about him. Think about me, all right?”

  She was frightened at the power of his grip, and replied, “Sure, Bob.”

  “That’s my girl!” He gave her a quick kiss, then moved away. He did not see the expression that swept across Maureen’s face, for he felt confident in his ability to control her. Just needs a strong hand, Maureen does, he thought with a smile. Just like a high-spirited mare!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Called Home

  As Ray handed Moira down from the passenger car, he knew with one look that she had changed. She wore a gray wool coat with a hood that framed her face, and as he bent forward to kiss her cheek, he thought, She’s not the same as she was. But he said only, “I’ve missed you, Moira.”

  She murmured, “It’s good to see you, Ray.” Then she turned to her father who was lowering his bulk off the step and said, “I suppose you’ll be going to meet with Reed, Dad. I think I’d rather go to the hotel.”

  Sherman Ames had lost more weight, and there were lines around his mouth and eyes that had not been there the last time Hayden had seen him. He nodded absently. “I’ll be along later.” He put out his hand, saying, “We’ll have a lot to talk about tomorrow, Ray.” Then he hurried off, leaving the two alone.

  “Better get in the buggy,” Ray suggested, taking her arm. “It’s cold out here.” He walked with her to the buggy, handed her up, then mounted and spoke to the horses. As they made their way along the street, he made small talk, and she responded in kind. He listened to her words and to her tone, but there was something different in her demeanor, although he could not put his finger on it.

  “Let’s have a cup of tea before you go up,” he said when they reached the hotel, and before she could object, led her into the dining room. “You look tired, Moira. Have you been well?” Ray asked her as soon as they were settled at a table.

  She studied the tea in her cup, keeping her eyes down. Then she lifted them and answered, “Oh, I haven’t been sick, Ray—but it hasn’t been pleasant.” Her eyes were not as bright as usual, and she lacked the animation he had always admired.

  “Tell me about it, Moira.”

  She laughed shortly, putting her hand on his wrist in a sudden gesture. “I’ve had a problem solved, Ray. I’ve never been sure what men truly liked—me, or my father’s money.” She shook her head as he tried to protest, and there was a bitter light in her eyes. “Well, I don’t have to worry about that anymore! Father’s lost his business and is in debt up to his chin.”

  Ray stared at her, shocked. There had been talk that Ames was in bad shape financially, but Hayden had assumed that he would find a way to recover his losses. Immediately, Ray’s mind leaped to how pleased Wallford would be when he learned about this. But he swiftly turned his attention back to Moira, aware that she was watching him carefully. He returned her gaze, his fair cheeks now suddenly tinged with a faint flush. “Are you waiting to see if I throw you off now that you’re broke, Moira?”

  She studied him for a long moment, realizing how little she knew about him, before conceding, “I have thought of it, Ray. You’re an ambitious man. You’ve made no secret of that. Now it seems that my father can no longer be of any use to you.”

  Her assumption was exactly right, but he was the sort of man who wanted to be well thought of. His pride hurt that s
he had accused him of being shallow, and despite the fact that he was not at all sure that she was wrong, he let a playful anger streak his tone, and said, “I can’t believe you still think I’m so low! Don’t you trust me at all?” He leaned forward and smiled. “In the first place, I don’t think you ought to count your father out. He’s got friends, and they won’t let him down. But even if that happened, it wouldn’t have a blasted thing to do with what I feel for you. I love you and want to marry you and I don’t give a hoot whether or not you’ve got a penny.”

  She smiled, her doubts gone. “That’s good to hear, Ray.” Her smile was not quite steady, and she added, “I guess the shock of all this has shaken me badly. I’ve always had everything—and the thought of being poor comes as quite a blow.”

  He got up, pulling her to her feet. “Go get a little rest,” he advised. “You’re going to need it—because I’m coming back for you at six to show you and the town of Bryant what a real celebration is like!”

  She left after promising to meet him, and he hurried out of the hotel to the UP’s offices. He wanted to be in on the talk that Ames would be having with Reed and Casement, for he hoped to pick up additional information for Wallford. He was uncomfortably aware that Moira’s declaration had triggered an unpleasant chain of thought. He wanted to believe that he was honest with himself, even though he knew he played a role before others. Now he knew that his pursuit of Moira had been, at least in part, motivated by the very thing she had mentioned—her father’s money and position. Now that that was gone, his ties with the Central were not just another way to gain money and position—they were the only way.

  As he entered the office he found Reed, Casement, and Mark standing around the wood stove listening to Ames’s talk. Ames acknowledged him with his eyes as he spoke. “ . . . so I failed to get any more Boston money. Our only hope now is to bull the thing through—finish the line before the Central. If we accomplish that, there’ll be investors standing in line to give the Union their money.”

  Reed shook his head. “We can only go so far without money, Ames. The men have to be paid—and we’ve got to have ties and steel.”

  For nearly two hours they doggedly examined the possibilities, and finally Ames said wearily, “Well, if we don’t have a miracle, we’re lost.”

  He turned, grabbed his coat, then asked, “Ray, are you going back to the hotel?”

  “I’m having dinner with Moira at six, but I’ve got a few things to do first.”

  Ames nodded and left the building, Hayden taking his own leave twenty minutes later. He made his way straight to the Wagonwheel, discovered that Valance was out, and went looking for Wallford. Unsuccessful, he went to his room to clean up for dinner. Got to get in stronger with Jason and the Central more than ever now, he thought, and as he tied his tie, he devised the perfect way to do it.

  ****

  Dooley Young sat with his legs wrapped around the legs of a kitchen chair, listening to Lola as she told him about past Sunday services. He admired the strength of her hands as she mixed dough, and when she popped the bread into the oven and sat down across from him, he asked suddenly, “You reckon you’ll ever get hitched, Lola?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Dooley. Maybe someday.” She gave him a quick look, then asked, “What about you? Do you think you’ll get married, Dooley?”

  The question bothered him, and he picked up the cup of scalding black coffee, held his moustache up, and drained it with a slurping sound. Setting the cup down, he shifted on the chair, then said in a serious voice, “I’ve follered around a few girls, Lola. Done my chasin’ just like any young feller. But it never got serious.”

  “It’s Maureen you care for, isn’t it, Dooley?”

  He nodded and admiration touched his bright blue eyes. “You’re pretty sharp, Lola.” Then he shook his head and added gloomily, “Ain’t that a caution now? Here I go and fall in love with a gal that’s took up with a fancy man who’ll use her and throw her aside like an old shirt! He done it once, didn’t he? Why’d she go back to him, Lola?”

  Lola shook her head, compassion in her eyes. “I don’t think there’s any answer to that sort of thing, Dooley. Maybe she just thought that life was passing her by and she had to grab at whatever comfort she could find.”

  “She won’t get none from Dempsey!”

  “No, and I guess she knows that. Most of us have gone into something knowing full well we’d get hurt. But that’s the way we are.” The sound of the brassy pianos and shouting from the saloons crescendoed into the room. “The flesh is very strong, Dooley. When we want something and it’s there, most people can’t do much but take it.”

  “You didn’t,” Dooley argued.

  “But I might have,” Lola said quietly. “None of us knows what we’re going to do. If I didn’t have Christ in my heart, I might do the same foolish thing Maureen’s doing.” She gave him a careful look, then asked, “Have you talked to her about how you feel, Dooley?”

  “Shore. But she can’t see nothing but that fancy man.” He looked down at the table and shook his head. “Can’t blame her. I don’t look like much.”

  “That’s not true—and anyway, looks are hardly important,” Lola offered quickly. “I must tell you, I’ve been praying for Maureen.” A comical thought came to her, bringing humor to her eyes. “I asked that God send an angel to protect her. Maybe that’s you, Dooley.”

  He grinned, the old humor spilling out as he said, “Been called lots of things, Lola—but nobody ever tagged me for an angel.” He got up and said, “I need to go find Mark. Him and Jeff went out to settle some kind of stuff over at Bitter Creek. Jeff’s been with him all afternoon. Tonight’s my turn.”

  “One of you stays with him all the time?”

  “They got him on their list,” he shrugged. “Cherry and his bunch knows that if they want to run things they’ll have to put the Captain down.”

  Lola’s shoulders drooped, and she said quietly, “I wish he’d leave before they kill him.”

  “Aw, he’s pretty tough, Lola. He stacked his musket at Appomattox.” She gave him a confused glance and he explained. “Most of our boys got took prisoner or else quit. But some went all through the hull war. Never gave up until General Lee told us to lay our rifles down at Appomattox.”

  “I know he’s tough,” she acknowledged, “but his toughness makes him hard, Dooley. Every day he gets a little harder. If he keeps on he’ll be no better than Cherry Valance and his kind.”

  Dooley studied her, but had no reply. “Well, he won’t quit, Lola. You can bet the farm on that.” Then he said, “I’m gonna go see Maureen before I relieve Jeff.”

  “Tell them I said to come by. I’ll give them some supper.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  Dooley left and found Mark and Jeff at the office, stained with dust from the road. “Lola says come on and eat the supper she’s got cooked,” he said.

  Mark looked at Jeff and asked, “All right with you?” before accepting. “Be up early, Dooley. We’ve got to make a trip over to the Wasatch chain tomorrow.”

  Dooley nodded, then made his way from the office to the main street of Bear River City, shouldering his way through the crowds of workers who filled it to overflowing. The Wagonwheel was packed, but he slipped through and stood at the bar until he caught sight of Maureen, who was dancing with a red-faced Irishman. As soon as the dance was over, another man claimed her, and Dooley settled back to wait. He had not been there longer than twenty minutes when he saw Cherry Valance come through the front door of the saloon. He went straight to two men who were sitting at a back table, motioned to them, and they disappeared into the rear of the tent.

  “Kind of looks like a pow-wow,” Dooley murmured, scheming silently. A man ought to be able to hear through a piece of canvas. Impulsively, he got up and made his way out of the Wagonwheel. Walking to the side of the big tent, he looked around and saw that no one was paying any attention to him. He sauntered down the side of the canvas
wall, avoiding the ropes, until he came to the back. He could hear the blaring of the band and the shouting of the crowd, and at first could not find the spot. Eventually, he heard the sound of voices and moved close to the tent, putting his ear to the canvas. He heard a man talking, but didn’t recognize the voice.

  “ . . . have to have something quick. The people out west will pay anything to see to it that they beat the UP into Utah. Now, what have you got?”

  Dooley identified Cherry’s voice at once. “We’ve got the thing in hand, Jason. Don’t worry.”

  “You’ve said that before, Valance . . .”

  “All right—you come out of there!”

  Dooley started to wheel, knowing he’d been caught, but there was no place to run. He reached for his gun, but something struck him on the head, and a brilliant light exploded, then faded to a dull blackness as he slumped to the ground.

  “Who is it, Bob?” a man asked, leaning forward with a gun in his hand.

  “Don’t know,” Bob Dempsey said. “Let’s get him inside and get a look at him.” They picked up the unconscious Young, Dempsey commenting, “He’s not so big, Will. Let’s take him in the back way and let Cherry have a look at him.”

  They made their way to the back entrance, passed through a flap and found the section Valance used for his private office.

  “What’s this, Bob?” Valance asked as the two men deposited their burden on the floor.

  At once a fearful Ray Hayden said, “It’s Dooley Young—one of Winslow’s men.”

  “We caught him snooping outside,” Dempsey said. “Will saw him sneaking around, so I figured we’d pick him up. He was listening to you outside the tent.”

  “If he heard me,” Ray said quickly, “he’ll pass the word to Winslow and Reed.”

  “We can fix that,” Cherry said idly, his eyes on Young. “We’ll find out what he knows—and if it’s too much, we’ll stop his clock.”

  Ray stared at Valance, but the man’s cold eyes dared him to protest. “I’m getting out of here,” he announced.