by Nancy Moser
She looked into his eyes, his deep brown eyes that were so full of compassion and wisdom. “How did you get to be so smart?”
He shrugged.
She took his hand and started to lead him back to the store. “Wait,” he said, halting their walk. “I am going to leave town—for a short time.”
“But I want you here.”
He squeezed her hand. “I want to be here. But I need to leave Laramie and go to the end of the line. I need to finish . . . something. I’d also like to see my brother.”
“How long will you be gone?”
He pulled her close and looked down at her. “Not a minute more than necessary.”
“A whole minute?”
“Not one second.”
She could accept that.
Josephine turned over in bed and faced the window and the dark night outside. Just a few blocks away lay the body of Lewis Simmons—or Simon. Whatever his name was.
Hudson had told her to grieve in her own way. What was that way?
She had cared for Lewis. She had him to thank for getting her out of the family home. They’d shared some good times together.
But had any of it been genuine? Or was it all another lie?
All facts pointed to his wanting to marry her for shameful reasons—either for money or revenge for Papa’s part in his father’s death.
But how did he hope to gain revenge? What would have happened after they married?
It didn’t really matter. He was gone. Dead.
Was he in heaven?
She pulled her pillow into an embrace and prayed for his soul.
And her own.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Well, look who’s here in Utah. Mr. Maguire. Back for the final push, I see. How handy to miss the tunnel and bridge work of the mountains.”
Under the scrutiny of the general’s gaze, Hudson felt his face grow hot. “Nice to see you again, sir.”
The general sat back in his chair, eyeing him. “So then. Is it you I have to thank for my daughter’s idea of starting a store?”
He smiled. “No, sir, I’m happy to say I had nothing to do with that.”
“Too bad. I think it’s a marvelous idea.” The general laughed and lit a cigar. “Relax, Maguire. I’m just chaffing you.” He pointed to the chair on the guest side of his desk. “Give me an update on Josephine.”
Hudson told him about Josie and the store. And the run-in with Lewis. And finally, his death.
The general sighed. “It embarrasses me to have been duped by him.”
“We all were. It was Josie who dug into his past and discovered the truth.”
“Josie?”
“Sorry, sir. It’s a name I’ve given to her.”
He considered it a moment, then shrugged. “It does suit her. And it’s nice to see her stepping up to find the truth. She’s showing a strength I didn’t know she possessed.”
“I think it’s a strength she didn’t know she possessed.”
“Well said. At any rate, many thanks for being there for her during this rough time.”
“Actually, there’s more.” Hudson confessed that his tardiness was also due to a short stay in Allegheny City. “I felt the need to settle some of my own family business.”
The general let a cloud of smoke settle between them. “And was it . . . settled?”
His tone suggested he remembered Hudson’s long-ago mention of a girl back home. “Yes, it was. I’ve cut my ties and . . .” With the chance to state things plain, he was suddenly tongue-tied.
“You want to marry my daughter.”
Relief wafted over him. “I do, sir. With your permission.”
“I guess you need to thank me for sending you back east as her escort. Love born on a train ride?”
“Actually, it was born on the prairie, during a sunset.”
His eyebrows rose.
“During the one-hundredth meridian celebration. I was enjoying a sunset and your daughter joined me.”
The general nodded. “Powerful thing, sunsets.”
All tension left him. “Yes, they are.”
“When were you wanting to propose?”
Here was the clincher. “I know we’re getting to the end of the line—”
“The meeting of the Central and Union railroads is set to happen at Promontory Summit, Utah, second week of May.”
A few weeks. “I should get back to work then.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“Sir?”
“I have a thousand men to do the work of the railroad—especially since we’re offering triple-pay during this final stretch. Plus we’ve taken on hundreds of Mormon subcontractors. But I only have one daughter. Your job is to make her happy.”
This was going far better than he could have imagined. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
The general stood and held out his hand. “Then consider this my blessing.” After they shook hands, he pointed to the door of his office. “Now go. Get her. Love her.”
“Gladly, sir.”
“But do me one favor.”
“Of course.”
“Bring her back to the end of the line, to Promontory. There, the West will be connected with the East. The vision of a few and the hard work of many will culminate. I’d like you and Josephine to be here to witness that. Actually, bring the other ladies too. They deserve to be a part of the celebration.”
Hudson felt his throat grow tight. “We’d be honored, sir.”
“As I am honored to gain you as a son-in-law.”
Hudson shook his hand again, then rushed to jump on the next eastbound train.
If only he could fly.
Gunshots!
Lots of them.
Josephine ran toward the window to see what was going on just as Mr. Richter burst in the door and pushed her back toward the others. “Stay back!”
Aunt took Nelly under her arm. “What’s happening?”
“Housecleaning.”
When they gave him quizzical looks, he explained. “The Kid’s gang meet their match. Five hundred citizens say genug! and have it out at Belle saloon.” He paused to look at each female and seemed hesitant to say more.
“What?” Josephine asked. “What don’t you want to tell us?”
“There be big necktie party today.”
“Necktie?” Frieda asked.
With another glance at Nelly, he made a subtle pulling motion by his ear.
“Oh,” Frieda said.
“You’re gonna hang ’em?” Nelly asked.
Aunt Bernice gasped. Josephine hated that Nelly knew of such things, and that she could mention them in such a matter-of-fact way.
More gunshots caused them to retreat even farther into the store. Mr. Richter headed out.
“Be careful,” Frieda told him.
He gave her a wink. “I come get you when coast clear.”
Frieda gazed after him. “I hope he’ll be all right.”
Josephine arranged some crates to use as chairs and was glad for the chance to change the subject. “Are you sweet on Mr. Richter?”
Frieda looked to the floor. “That’s absurd.”
“Why?” Aunt said. “You are of the same age. He seems to be an honorable man, and you’re a virtuous woman.”
“What’s virtuous?” Nelly asked.
“Good. Respectable.”
Nelly nodded. “You are virtuous.”
Frieda’s face turned red. “Thank you for your kind words, but it’s hard to think about a future with a man. I set aside that part of me decades ago.”
“For me,” Josephine said. “To raise me.”
Frieda put a hand on Josephine’s knee. “A life well-spent.”
“But your life’s not over,” Aunt said. “It is just beginning.”
Josephine remembered something Frieda often told her. It was time to return the favor. She took Frieda’s hands in hers and said, “Who loves you best?”
Frieda blushed. “You do.”
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“Which is why I want you to be open to happiness, wherever—and whomever—it comes from.”
They heard more gunshots and shouts, and men ran past the window toward the saloon. Josephine walked forward to see.
“Come back here!” Aunt demanded. “There is a time to be brave and a time to be wise.”
Josephine stopped short of the window and returned to the group. A memory came back, making her laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Frieda asked.
“I remember on the first trip out here when I was on the steamboat heading up to Omaha, I was afraid of the branches in the water. How silly that was.”
Aunt nodded. “We have all grown stronger and braver—because of you.”
Josephine shook her head. “You are all strong and brave in your own right.”
“If we were, it was deeply hidden. Don’t you understand it is because of you and your strength and courage that any of us are here, having this glorious adventure?”
Josephine laughed nervously as the sounds of the battle continued outside. “I’m not sure if a shootout is glorious.”
“Maybe not,” Aunt said. “But if it weren’t for you, I would be sitting in that horrible chair by the fire, getting my ribs poked by the springs, having yet another cup of weak tea.”
“And I’d be washing laundry till my skin was raw,” Nelly said.
“And I’d never have the chance to sell my face creams to the public,” Frieda said.
Their words made her teary, and her heart swelled with love for them. “So you think you’ll be happy here?”
Aunt looked to the other two. With their nods she answered for all three. “We are happy now.”
Josephine looked at the disarray of the store—which might not be a success, and realized that she was happy too. Right now. Amid the chaos in and out of the store. She reached for the hands of her aunt and Frieda, and Nelly joined the circle. “Let’s thank God for each other.”
“And new opportunities,” Aunt said.
“And new friends,” Frieda said.
“And another good lunch over at the café,” Nelly said.
Together they laughed. And prayed.
As the gunshots flew.
The first thing that greeted Hudson when he returned to Laramie was the sight of four men hanging by the neck.
“What happened?” he asked the station manager.
“We took our town back.”
“So these were outlaws?”
“Of course. The rest skedaddled out of town.”
“Will they come back?”
“We’ll be ready if they do. Just got ourselves a new man in charge, Sheriff Boswell.”
He was so matter-of-fact about it. To realize that all this had happened in the time Hudson was gone was testament to the determination of Laramie to survive.
But then his thoughts turned to Josie and the women, and he hurried toward the store.
It was dusk, and the streets were growing dark. But through the window of the store, a lamp glowed. He went inside and immediately saw Aunt Bernice, Frieda, and Nelly.
“Where’s Josie?”
“Hello to you too,” Aunt said.
He was being rude. “Yes. Sorry. Hello. But is she all right? I heard about the fighting and—”
“She is fine. We all are.”
Nelly pointed to the west. “She’s out looking at the sun.”
“At the sunset,” Frieda corrected. “She needed some time alone. I told her no, with all that’s happened she shouldn’t go out, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s getting so headstrong out here. Must be the air.”
“She’s getting headstrong?” Hudson asked.
Frieda chuckled.
“Actually, I know for a fact Josephine wouldn’t mind the company,” Aunt said. “That is, if your visit with the general was successful . . .”
He ran out the door.
Josephine drew her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The evening was cool but tolerable. But whether the air blasted with heat or driving snow, she’d had to come.
The past few days had been eventful. The shootout had to be included in the events, yet it measured a far second when compared to the joy and satisfaction she had gained during the talk with the women in her life.
To discover they were happy here, were eager about the future, and were relieved to be away from their previous lives filled her to bursting. Because of that joy, she had sought the solitude and grandeur of the sunset, for only its beauty could rival the beauty of the love and gratitude she felt in her heart.
The sun dipped below the ridge of the Medicine Bow Mountains, its rays radiating to heaven amid blue and pink clouds.
Josephine pressed a hand to her chest, overcome by the sight. She spoke her prayer out loud. “Thank You for bringing me here. Thank You for the wonderful women who have come with me. And thank You for—”
“Josephine Cain.”
Josephine whipped around and saw Hudson standing nearby. Overcome by happy tears, she ran toward him, and he toward her, until they met in a joyous collision.
He lifted her completely off the ground until her face was even with his. Then he pressed his lips against hers. “Thank You, God, thank You,” he kept repeating amid his kisses.
She nodded, adding her own silent prayers of gratitude. How could life be so good? What had she ever done to deserve such happiness?
He gently let her slide down until her toes touched the ground. But then he continued his own downward movement until he was perched on one knee. He took her hand in his. “Josie, I adore you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
It was the question for which she had only one answer. “Yes. Oh please, yes!” She took his face in her hands and gave him one tender kiss. But when she bent forward to embrace him, they toppled over amid much laughter. Fully fallen, she lay on her back, and he raised himself to an elbow to peer down at her.
He ran a finger along her cheek. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”
Then he kissed her again and again, as the sun gave way to the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As the train moved through steep canyons, ran next to rushing rivers, and crept over rickety bridges, Josephine had one thing on her mind—and his name was Hudson Maguire.
Yes, they were heading to the momentous celebration at Promontory Summit, Utah, where the Union and Central Pacific lines would merge. Yes, they were carrying Thomas Durant and a bevy of other dignitaries to see history in the making.
But with Hudson’s marriage proposal, Josephine’s world had grown very small. It wasn’t that the work of thousands didn’t matter, or that the vision of those who had imagined the connection of the East and the West was inconsequential.
The sun, the moon, and the stars, the heavens and the earth, all paled with the knowledge that Hudson loved her, as well as the astounding breadth and depth of her own feelings for him. A line from Romeo and Juliet said it best: Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
“Did you say something?” he asked from the seat beside her.
Had she said the words aloud? Or had they seeped from her pores, as if her mind, soul, and body could no longer contain their essence?
She intertwined her fingers through his and offered him a smile that in no way expressed her joy.
He bumped her shoulder with his. “Soon,” he whispered.
That their thoughts were already as one should have surprised her. But didn’t.
Frieda got out of her seat and stood beside them in the aisle. “Did you two even notice the bridge had washed out back there? That they had to get crews to repair it?”
Josephine smiled at Hudson. “What bridge?”
“Did either of you notice when the train was held hostage in Piedmont until Dr. Durant paid a portion of back wages?”
“What wages?” Hudson said, his eyes only on her.
Frieda sighed and threw her h
ands in the air. “Carry on.”
Gladly.
The next time the train slowed, it was for the best of reasons. The passengers lined the windows, marveling at the crowd that had already gathered.
But the best view was outside, and so the cars quickly emptied. Looking ahead to the track were the mighty symbols of the dream: two locomotives, a few yards apart, head-to-head like two bulls readying for a final fight.
Yet the fight was over, the battle won.
Dr. Durant left the other passengers behind, rushing to claim his congratulations. He shook hands with a dozen other dignitaries, some from the Central Pacific, and some from his own Union Pacific line.
Josephine had little care for those men. There was only one person she longed to see.
“Josephine!”
“Papa!”
His embrace was full of his usual strength, and yet she could feel more power within his arms and torso. With good reason. He had guided the work crews over 1,086 miles.
“Reginald,” Aunt said, giving him her own embrace. “We are so proud of you.”
He spread his arms. “Me and a few thousand others.”
Then a young man ran toward them. “Hudson!”
“Raleigh!”
Hudson made the introductions, then told his brother, “Josie is my fiancée.”
His only sign of surprise was the raise of an eyebrow. “It’s about time I met you proper,” Raleigh said. “I’ve heard enough about you—starting the first day you two met.”
The family reunion was interrupted when an argument broke out at the base of the two locomotives. Papa listened a minute, then rolled his eyes. “Durant is arguing with Leland Stanford, the head of the Central Pacific, over who’s going to give the first blow to the final spike.”
“Arrogance,” Aunt said.
“Exactly,” Papa said. “But come close. We have been waiting for your train to arrive, so I expect the ceremony will commence rather quickly.”
They—along with hundreds of other dignitaries and workers—moved toward the two facing trains. A few speeches were endured, then two ceremonial spikes were presented: a silver one from Arizona, and a gold one from California.