She came away from the crowd and looked around the small street for lodging. There wasn’t much to see. A few commercial buildings lined either side of a dirt road–the usual saloon and sheriff’s office, along with a small general store. A few houses in the distance. Then she spied a hotel sign at the edge of the town. Looking around to see if the others had seen the hotel, she noticed a few walking in that direction. They would have to hurry to get two rooms. Crusty, cold, and disheartened they made their way down the puddle-dotted road.
Alone for the first time in days, she removed her damp and ruined coat and dress. The blood streaked across her skirt might not be her own, and she examined her forehead in the small, round mirror above the dresser. It was bruised and the blood was crusted over. She thought of the injured woman she helped into the flatbed and her stomach flopped. Shaking the memory from her head, she grabbed a thin towel from the dresser. With only her stained petticoat for cover, she peeked from the doorway before rushing to the communal water closet down the hall. Once the large, copper tub was filled, she slid her aching, weary body into the hot bath. The warm water took the chill away and diluted the day’s events.
With great sobs, she let out the emotions that could no longer be held at bay. Her desires to have Jacob with her, comforting her, washing the dirt from her body, kissing her sweetly were replaced with dread. He was far away and perhaps mortally wounded. How would she ever know what really happened? More tears followed as her overwhelming thoughts found no place to hide.
Chapter Thirty
The ferry ride had been rough, adding to the discomfort of her long journey. It was the first day in May, but the cool breeze nipped at her and she crossed her shawl over her chest. The docks in San Francisco were filled with activity. The air smelled salty and it reminded her of home, but this was the Pacific Ocean, and she felt as if she were truly on the other side of the world. In the near distance, the docks were filled with men loading and unloading the many boats and ships at the end of the gray, and worn piers. A whiff of kerosene filled her nostrils, then fish, and finally another breeze brought back the salty air. She noted the wooden crates of cargo were similar to those on the train. More crates coming from ships she imagined had traveled from other countries–places she could only dream of–perhaps filled with silk scarves from the Orient and exotic trimmings for ladies’ hats. Sarah had made a request for a pair of earrings. In the distance, a fine carriage caught her eye as it pulled up near the docks. It looked odd among the everyday workers and dirty boardwalks. Out of the coach stepped her husband. “Frederick!”
The look of disgust on his face reminded Jessica of the frightful way she looked. Indeed, the dress Hannah had lent her was wearing her more than she it. Her hair was a heap of tangles, far from the neat bun she’d had at the start of her trip, and she was damp with sweat.
“Oh, Frederick. It’s very good to see you. Very good!”
“My dear, what in God’s name have we here? We must get you out of those clothes.” His lips did not touch her cheek even as he bent down to kiss her.
“Yes, a bath and some fresh clothes would help.”
“Come along then.” He gestured to the fine carriage. “How on earth could you be in such a state?”
“You haven’t heard of the derailment?” She quickened her pace to keep up with him.
“Yes, of course,” he snapped. “How would I be here to meet you otherwise?” He softened his tone and continued. “My dear, I thought I gave you enough money to keep yourself well.”
Jessica walked on without a word.
“Here we are.” Frederick motioned her to the carriage. She stopped to wait for Kevin and Hannah. Frederick sighed with impatience.
“It’s been a pleasure traveling with you, mum,” Kevin said. Hannah wiped away a tear.
“Thank you, both of you. Under the circumstances, it’s been my pleasure as well.”
Frederick brought out a piece of paper from the inside of his finely tailored coat. He handed it to Kevin. “Here is the address of our home. You can find transportation at the station house. I will expect you both to be clean and in uniforms by tonight. Your quarters are in the back of the house. The door is unlocked.”
“Yes, sir.” Kevin bowed.
Knowing it would be inappropriate to say anything more, Jessica sniffled and wiped away a tear.
Frederick helped her into the carriage. “Leave your feelings for them here. It does no good to befriend the help.”
Another means of travel. She was just about undone. Jessica peered out the window, but she was too tired for sightseeing. After a much-needed rest, she would venture out and explore. She recounted the story of her harrowing experience, realizing Frederick had chosen to sit across from her, his hands clasped in his lap.
Finally, he spoke. “My poor darling.” Leaning forward, his hand touched the bruised cut on her forehead. “I will make this up to you, my love, with everything it takes. I hope the home I’ve chosen for us will begin to lessen your grief. We’ll get a doctor to examine you. I need you to be well.”
She offered a weak smile, then dared to ask him about his own journey. The many questions that had swirled in her head since his hasty departure needed answers.
Sitting back in his seat, he examined his nails. “My own days of travel were somewhat boring. I managed to keep myself entertained, however.”
“I’m happy you had a good trip, but why didn’t you go directly to the train station the morning you left? I went there to look for you and. …” She caught herself as his demeanor changed. His eyes squinted, and he folded his arms across his chest.
“Why were you looking for me?”
“It was your father who was looking for you and I … well, he was so upset when he left. I followed him to the train station, and they told me that you might have taken a different train.”
“My father, yes, I’m sure he was upset. I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of it.” Frederick relaxed. “I took out a large sum of money from my accounts back in England without telling him. He’s had a fierce grip on me all my life. I couldn’t let him know too much about my plans. You understand, don’t you?”
She examined his expression as he gave his side of the story and he seemed sincere. It touched her, but she still wondered about the nature of his departure. “I don’t mean to question your intentions. I’m wondering why you didn’t say goodbye to him. Where did you catch the train from?”
“We said our goodbyes in our own way. You don’t understand my family, and I don’t expect you to. I just hope your loyalties lie with your husband.”
“Frederick, need you ask? I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”
“Forgive me. Talk of my father tends to bring out the worst in me.”
Wording her next question carefully, she asked, “Did you make a mistake with my ticket? I was on a cargo train.”
Frederick looked away. “I thought the adventure of travel would be greater for you that way. The express I found to be quite boring.”
There would be so much more to learn about this man, and she still questioned the nature of his departure. She felt she may never know.
“Never mind all that. How nice it is to have my wife by my side.” He leaned forward with a mischievous grin. She didn’t dare move. He slowly came off his seat and sat beside her. She felt his warm hand sliding up toward her inner thigh. With a smile, she gently moved away from his advances. “Are we nearly there?”
He straightened and sat back. “Yes, my dear. Nearly there.”
The horses clopped onto a brick courtyard and stopped in front of the stately house. Sumptuous, two-story curves framed the entrance. The wooden French door was adorned with brightly colored stained-glass windows, like jewelry on a woman’s bodice. Pristine white columns on each side of the dark, wooden porch held a soft turn of light green ivy, making a lovely contrast to the winding red-and-yellow flower beds along the skirt of the enchanting home. It stood off the road, but its gr
andeur could be seen by passersby.
“Oh, my goodness!” Jessica was in awe. Although similar houses stood in Hartford, they weren’t as colorful. It looked more like a dollhouse—one she couldn’t wait to play in.
Frederick beamed. “Is it to your liking?”
She embraced him tightly. “It’s lovely. I can’t wait to see the inside.”
The grandeur flowed into the two-story-high foyer. The sun filtered down in soft beams of light from the windows above them. A white staircase wound up to the second floor with the balcony waiting for someone to gaze down from it.
Slowly turning around, she felt the house held a fairy tale quality. In the parlor, the furnishings were simple and the room was airy and bright. The columns on the large fireplace mimicked the ones on the front porch. An ivory-colored chesterfield with two chairs, sat neatly around it, their legs looking as if they could get up and walk away. She delighted in the artistry of such furnishings, and now they belonged to her. Inside one of the bay windows was a charming writing desk and low-back padded seat, waiting for her future letters, RSVP’s, and thank-you notes. Rich, walnut tables sat next to the sofa and between the cushioned chairs. Jessica was grateful Frederick had chosen a comfortable and warm décor for them. It was as if he had read her mind.
Passing several doors on the second floor, she assumed one would be her husband’s. with a finely appointed bathing room and water closet. They walked to the end of the hallway where Frederick opened the door to a room that exuded femininity. In it stood a massive, four-poster bed with a footstool to step up and into its luxury. A bay window with light-blue drapes opened to the lawn below. A fine dresser, tables, chairs, and thick rugs were all in the same French décor she had only read about or seen in illustrations. She brought her hand to her mouth with a laugh. Climbing the stool, she plopped onto the voluptuous, feather mattress where the silk duvet and the puffy pillows enveloped her. Frederick followed and hungrily began to remove her clothing. His heated strength welcomed her, yet she felt no desire. Not wanting to spoil the moment, she buried her rising feelings of loneliness, unlocking her desire for Jacob.
Chapter Thirty-one
April 1886
In his tent at the foothills of Clear Creek, Colorado, J. Keaton counted money on a small, uneven table. In the dim light, his shadow loomed larger than his thin, 5’6” frame. The campsite was nestled in an area surrounded by mighty firs, spruce, and pines. It was a sufficient camouflage.
Perching himself against an ancient fir tree, Jacob waited. He lit a cigarette, wondering how much of the cut he and Will would receive this time. Keaton’s math differed from his own. Looking over at the tired, and dirty faces of the men sitting around the campfire, he took a long drag and released the smoke from his lungs. Will was breaking a small branch into pieces to be used as chips for a poker game.
It had been nearly eight months since he and Will met this motley crew of men. Last June he held Jessica in his arms. Tonight, he sat in a camp of outlaws, himself included. The ten of them got along fairly well. The occasional fight broke out, but everyone knew who to avoid after a long day. The sale of weapons and ammo had been good. Indians, farmers, and cattlemen had done business with Keaton’s group, as well as one lawman who said he lost his rifle and needed to secure another without anyone finding out.
Last week, the crew raided an old farm about twenty miles away. Rumor had it the farmer had a store of black-market guns. It was clearly by luck that no one was around at the time. They took what they could carry and galloped away as fast as their horses could take them. Tempers were always on edge. Transporting the rifles, pistols, and boxes of ammunition to various points of trade while dodging the law wore hard on the men. The poor pay and lack of decent lodging added to their strain. Their boss spent most of his time giving orders and collecting the spoils, showing little concern for his crew, except for one—Caleb Cantrell.
Easy to spot in a crowd with his long, blond hair, Caleb stood tall and lean. His liquid blue eyes and fine features belied his ability to be as intimidating as any who had traveled in this rugged wilderness. Jacob admired Caleb’s intelligence and self-assuredness.
Keaton consulted with Caleb on every move the outlaws made. To Will and Jacob, Caleb—who wasn’t much older—was just as much their boss as J. Keaton. Caleb rode the cousins hard. Whispers circulated early on that he disliked the pair and had claimed he wouldn’t be surprised if they went running back to their mothers, theirs tails between their legs.
Offended by this, Jacob knew he had to prove to be as worthy as the rest of the group, so he leaned in and did what was expected of him. From scouting out new trails and customers to a friendly hand of poker, he strove to outdo Caleb. Their silent competition did not go unnoticed by Will. His cousin joked to him one night, “I’d hate to see you two in a fight over a woman. The poor gal would end up with two dead suitors.”
“That will never happen,” Jacob had replied.
Among the group was Levi Landsburg, a small spitfire of a man. His generous smile revealed dark, crooked teeth, and his thick, brown hair was always disheveled. Caleb towered over him, but only in stature. He treated Levi with all the respect and trust due an old friend.
Levi had told Will and Jacob that he’d once seen Caleb kill two men when they had tried to rob him after a fair deal had been struck. Jacob shook off the warning. On another occasion, he had asked Levi about the stick up Caleb’s ass, sending the small man into convulsive laughter.
“You be not the first to inquire about that, Jake.” He was still laughing, then he quieted for a moment. “You know, some of us have had it real hard, and some of us can handle it being that way. Not him, though. He has to carry around his past like a mule carrying a pack. That’s okay with me ’cause I got some packs to carry myself, so him and me, we get along just fine.”
“Yeah, but you always seem to be in good spirits.”
“True. My nature is what it is, but I didn’t lose all my kin in an accident, either.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Yep, when he was fourteen, or thereabouts. Upstate New York. A carriage accident in the dead of winter. He was the only survivor.”
Not wanting to give too much sympathy to Caleb, Jacob remained silent.
“He went to live with his grandma but left right after he graduated from school. He joined a bunch of wild fur traders and grew up mighty fast—gambling, women, you know what I’m talking about.” He laughed, then spat brown liquid from the tobacco lodged in his cheek. “We met about three years ago. In a saloon in Mississippi. I was just wandering at the time. I spotted him right away, which wasn’t hard to do.” Levi shook with laughter. “The women just flock to them good looks. He was surrounded! I guess I made for somewhat of an escape, ’cause he started to talk to me as if he knew me, and well, don’t you know, we hit it off. Been friends ever since. We traveled a bit looking for work, did some odds jobs here and there. Then two years ago, we met up with Keaton and he hired us. That brings you up to date.”
Spatting at an invisible target, Levi continued. “He lived a pretty lush life there in the big city before it all changed that terrible day, I mean with proper schools and tutors and all that regal stuff. I bet he could sit at the table of kings and queens and know just what to do.” He puffed with pride as if Caleb were his own son.
Jacob smiled. “He’s lucky to have you as a friend.”
“It’s me who’s the lucky one.” He examined Jacob carefully. “You remind me of him in a way. I mean, you two look like night and day, to be sure, but I think you’re cut from the same kind of cloth. Am I right?”
A chuckle rose in Jacob. “I attended school, if that’s what you mean.”
“Me, too. The school of life!” He gave a wink and slapped himself on the knee.
Levi’s information gave Jacob more reason to stay on guard around Caleb. He sucked on his cigarette and waited for his share of the money. Perhaps this time he and Will would have enough to s
trike out on their own. He looked over at Caleb seated on a tree stump. They exchanged a cool glance.
Keaton stepped out of the tent and handed everyone a small fold of cash. Finally, he got to Jacob and said, “Good job, Jake.” Casually sticking his cigarette in his mouth, he counted his share. To his surprise, he was given what he had expected. When he looked over at Caleb, the blond man touched the brim of his hat and smirked. Jacob snuffed out his cigarette and folded the cash inside his pack, next to his other earnings. The pack doubled as his pillow and also held a pistol, buried deep.
Will sat down next to Jacob. “So the bastard can count after all.” He kept his voice low.
“What do you know.”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Will asked.
“Haven’t heard yet, but I know one thing. Those fools over there are going into town tonight to spend all their money. Damn if they don’t get us caught.”
“Hey, I was going to be one of those ‘fools’ if we didn’t have a job tomorrow. This cash is already burning a hole in my pocket. I need to keep my skills sharp.”
“Right. Which ones?” Jacob jested. He knew full well his cousin was talking about cards and women, in that order.
“Jealous?” Will tossed a coin in the air and tried to catch it behind his back but lost his balance and keeled over.
Laughing, Jacob didn’t reveal to Will that soon he, too, would have to go into one of these small towns and get lost in a card game and a roll in the hay. Since he’d left Jessica last October, which seemed so long ago, he’d tried to avoid thinking about her. Sometimes when he was in bed with another woman, he would pretend it was her, the image leaving him physically satisfied and emotionally empty.
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