by Kaki Warner
* * *
They left for Denver several days later. It was an uneventful trip, other than an incident with a man and his young simpleminded brother who shared their camp one night. Apparently a third brother was missing, and since Maddie had photographed him, they thought she might remember where she had last seen him. But Maddie couldn’t recall, and the next morning they were gone. It turned out they were imposters and claim jumpers, which they learned the next day when Thomas rode up with the missing man’s real brother—a reverend—in tow.
It was all very confusing. Lucinda happily left it to the others to sort through while she concentrated on polishing her proposal. She was committed to selling the idea of a railroad coming through their canyon, sensing it was the town’s best chance of survival.
Denver was a bustling town ready to blossom, due to all the mines sprouting up in the hills. Miners, gamblers, and all manner of ruffians crowded the streets, as well as those who catered to them. Declan and Lord Ashby thought they would all be safer out of the commercial district, so they found a boarding house not too far from the government buildings.
Lucinda’s first appointment was with the gentlemen of the Denver Pacific, and as she climbed up onto the driver’s bench of Maddie’s little gypsy wagon the next morning, she was almost vibrating with excitement.
“Are you ready for your meeting today?” Maddie asked, taking her seat between Lucinda and Chub, the boy Lord Ashby had hired to drive them into town. Declan had ridden ahead to his earlier convention meeting, while the Scotsman had stayed behind to keep an eye on Edwina and their belongings. Thomas and the reverend would be leaving for the area where Thomas thought the missing brother’s mine might be located.
Lucinda patted the thick, ribbon-tied folder in her lap. “All that’s missing is the paperwork on the water test.”
“I thought you already took care of that.”
“I did. But the results weren’t as good as I’d hoped so I’m having it tested again.” The water in Heartbreak Creek was its major drawback, as was proven by the stained teeth of most of the longtime residents. The high mineral content was equally damaging to pipes, gauges, and valves on steam-driven locomotives, and for that reason, the railroads had avoided Heartbreak Canyon when they had laid tracks through this part of the territory several years earlier. But their alternate route presented its own problems, including a steep grade up Henson’s Loop and the trestle over Damnation Creek, which washed out each spring.
But now, with the mine shut down and the water cannon no longer in operation, Lucinda was convinced the mineral levels in Heartbreak Creek’s water would be substantially reduced, which might induce the railroad to reroute through their canyon rather than go through the costly and time-consuming task of rebuilding the trestle every year.
“And if the new results are still not favorable?” Maddie asked.
“I’ll have Edwina use her willow sticks to find a water flow, then dig a new well.” Edwina had already found a new water source at the ranch—hopefully she could find one for the town, too.
“Won’t that be a terrible expense?”
Lucinda wished she could make her friend understand why this was so important to her. “I’m committed to this, Maddie. I want to see Heartbreak Creek flourish again so we can be proud to call it home.”
And the longer she stayed in Heartbreak Creek, the more resolute she became. Edwina and Pru had lost their plantation home in Louisiana, but they still had each other, and now both women had men who adored them. Maddie still had her Scottish rogue, although they had yet to establish a home, either in Scotland or here. But Lucinda had nothing except her new friends, a stack of railroad shares that was rapidly dwindling, and her hopes for Heartbreak Creek. And she was determined to succeed.
Her morning meeting with the Denver Pacific went beautifully, although it wasn’t until she finished her proposal that she learned the two men she had presented it to were not the final decision makers. However, their enthusiasm was gratifying, and before she left, they had set up another appointment with the gentleman in charge of routing and construction. She wasn’t able to put her proposal before the board of the Kansas Pacific yet, but managed to garner a luncheon meeting with Edgar Kitchner at the Grand Hotel the following day. In her estimation, the day had been a huge success.
That evening, another odd thing happened when Lord Ashby or Mr. Wallace—the man had entirely too many names—found one of the claim jumpers who had had intruded on their camp earlier, Silas, the simpleminded younger brother, hiding in the little barn behind the boarding house. It seems he had been ordered to watch Maddie while his older brother and a cohort followed the reverend and Thomas to the missing brother’s claim.
“Thomas could be riding into an ambush,” Mr. Wallace said. Determined to warn him, he rode out, trailed by his giant dog, leaving Declan in charge of the ladies and young Silas.
Silas seemed a sweet young man, and had been clearly abused by his brother, so the ladies were happy to fix up a place for him in the barn and bring him food.
Mrs. Kemble, the boarding house owner, was less happy.
The next morning, Declan sent Maddie and Lucinda into town without him, while he stayed behind to watch over Edwina. When the Scotsman returned with Thomas and the reverend that afternoon, he would ride into town and cast his statehood vote.
This trip into town was even more nerve-racking for Lucinda than the one on the previous day. She saw it as her last chance to tout her proposal, since the convention ended that afternoon with the final vote, and the Brodies would want to leave soon after to return to the children. She had scarcely slept, and as they headed into the commercial district, she was so nervous she thought she might toss up her breakfast.
“How do I look?” she asked Maddie when Chub stopped the wagon before the Grand Hotel where she would be meeting with the gentleman from the Denver Pacific, then later lunching with Kitchner of the Kansas Pacific.
Maddie brushed a piece of lint off Lucinda’s green traveling cape and straightened her matching bonnet. “Beautiful. You’ll win the day for certain.”
“I pray you’re right.” Her heart pounding wildly, Lucinda climbed down, checked her cape and skirts, then with a wave to Maddie, walked into the lobby, her head high and her folder under her arm.
Three hours later she came back out on the verge of tears, the folder a mangled mess from fidgeting with it while she waited for appointments that never happened. Stopping outside the hotel doors, she read the note gripped in her trembling fingers.
It is with regret that we must pass on your proposal. DP
That was it. Less than a dozen words on Denver Pacific stationery. No salutation. No signature. And how could they pass on her proposal when the man she was to meet with hadn’t even seen it? It made no sense.
She considered marching back in and demanding an explanation. But the thought of facing that officious secretary again made her stomach roll. He actually seemed to enjoy destroying her hopes and dreams.
What had she done to chase them off? Yesterday the advance men had seemed so enthusiastic. Then this morning, this abrupt note? What had happened between then and this morning?
Her mind numbed with disappointment, she wandered several blocks before she was able to bring her thoughts into focus. It was just one railroad, she reminded herself. She still had her meeting with Kitchner. Surely that one would go better.
It didn’t.
In fact, Kitchner didn’t even do her the courtesy of canceling their luncheon himself. He sent an underling—this time an overweight, buck-toothed man with hair sprouting from his ears—to tell her he wouldn’t be meeting with her. Ever.
Battling tears of utter despair, she walked listlessly down to the government offices where Maddie said she would be working through the morning.
“What are you doing here?” Maddie asked,
holding a box of photographs she was about to pass up to Chub, who stood at the top of the back steps, stowing her equipment and supplies into the wagon.
“I thought I’d ride back with you.”
“What about your luncheon?”
“Canceled.” Fearing she might burst into tears if she said more, Lucinda picked up a small crate of negative plates and handed them up to Chub. “Anything else to load?”
Maddie looked around. “I think that’s it.”
They rode in silence for a while, then Maddie put her hand over Lucinda’s and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I can see you’re upset, dearest. Tell me what happened. Perhaps I can help.”
Weakened by that simple act of support, Lucinda looked away, blinking hard to hold back tears. Once she had regained control, she gave the hand holding hers a pat, then released it. “I don’t know what happened. It’s as if overnight I’ve become a pariah.”
“Perhaps they had conflicts.”
“That’s what I thought. But when I tried to schedule another meeting with the Kansas Pacific, the assistant informed me that Mr. Kitchner would be unavailable . . . permanently. What do you make of that?”
“Obviously he’s a fool. Just as well you won’t be doing business with him. He’ll come to regret missing this wonderful opportunity, mark my words.”
Lucinda absently plucked at the tattered edge of the folder in her lap. “I might have agreed, had he been the only one to cancel.”
“The men from the Denver Pacific dropped out, as well?”
Lucinda nodded. “Yesterday the two men I met with seemed so enthusiastic about my plans. Then today no one spared me a glance.”
“They gave no reason for their change of heart?”
“Their minions gave a few mumbled excuses. Overextending. Labor shortages. Right-of-way issues. The usual. All polite ways of saying they’re no longer interested. I just can’t figure why.” Feeling the prick of tears again, she blinked hard. “Something’s not right. It’s as if someone has warned them off.”
“Are there no other railroads you could talk to?”
“One. A newly formed group out of New York called the Wichita Pacific. But I know nothing about them.”
“Perhaps you should find out,” Maddie suggested. “You’ve come too far to give up now.”
Lucinda gave a halfhearted shrug. She wasn’t feeling hopeful.
Declan came out to meet them when they rolled up to the stable. “What are you doing back so soon?” he asked Lucinda as he helped her down from the driver’s box.
“I had no reason to stay.” She explained about the canceled meetings, adding, “I think this whole trip has been a waste of time.”
“The vote for statehood doesn’t look promising, either.”
“Any word from Ash or Thomas?” Maddie asked.
“Nothing yet,” Declan said, helping Chub unharness the mules.
The back door slammed. Mrs. Kemble marched purposefully toward them.
Lucinda thought the woman was kindly enough but rather autocratic. However, she set a good table, which greatly appealed to the men. She looked even angrier now than when she’d found out about the simpleminded boy, Silas.
“Trouble,” Declan muttered.
“I need to talk to you people.” The heavyset woman stopped before them, feet braced, hands planted on her aproned hips. “First you bring a Red Indian to my house, then that giant dog roaming everywhere, and now I have a simpleminded boy living in my barn. I don’t know what kind of establishment you think I’m running here, but I’ve about had it with your shenanigans.”
“What shenanigans, ma’am?” Declan asked in his calm way.
“Comings and goings at all hours of the night, that’s what. People disappearing, then others showing up, and now strangers hounding me with their questions. I don’t need this aggravation. I run a respectable place.”
“What strangers?” Lucinda asked, wondering if the Pinkertons were back on her trail, even though Doyle had fled to Ireland.
“I’m sure I don’t know. Some fellow asking about Miss Hathaway. He didn’t leave his name. I told him you would be in town all day, and sent him on his way. But now here you are. And your wife, sheriff, says the other three—the reverend and that Scotsman and the Indian—will be back this evening. Do you people have any idea how difficult it is to plan meals when I never even know who all’s going to be here? Now I’ll have to go back to the market for two more chickens. I’ve a mind to send every one of you packing.”
“What was he asking?” Lucinda cut in, her mind still caught on the stranger inquiring about her. Could it be Tait? He’d written that he was on his way. The thought of seeing him again made it suddenly hard to draw in a full breath.
“I’m sure it’s none of my business,” Mrs. Kemble snapped. “Something about a railroad. He had beady eyes is all I remember.”
Lucinda frowned, wondering who he could be and with what railroad.
“Is that simpleminded boy expecting to eat, too?”
“I’d appreciate it, ma’am. I can put him to chores to pay for it, if you’d like.” Declan gave her the smile he used to charm Edwina. It seemed to have little effect on the landlady.
“You people,” she muttered, stomping back to the house. “No telling who or what you’ll bring around next.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Maddie turned to Lucinda. “Do you suppose it could be someone from that new railroad, the Wichita Pacific?”
“I don’t know.” But the thought was intriguing enough to push Tait out of her mind. Temporarily, anyway. It seemed he never strayed far.
“If he’s interested enough to come asking about you,” Maddie persisted, “perhaps you should make inquiries of your own.”
“You’re right.” Sudden energy shot through her. She grinned at Declan. “I’ve decided to go back into town with you this afternoon, Sheriff. I’ve come too far to give up so easily.”
“Good,” Maddie said with an approving smile. “I’ll stay with Edwina until Ash returns with Thomas and the reverend.”
* * *
The afternoon was as discouraging as the morning had been. When Lucinda finally found out where the representative from the Wichita Pacific was staying during the convention, the concierge told her that he had already left but added that he believed the man had plans to visit Heartbreak Creek later in the month. In addition to that disappointment, the statehood vote failed yet again.
In morose silence, she and Declan rode back to the boarding house.
And into utter chaos.
Edwina and Silas stood weeping on the back stoop beside an irate Mrs. Kemble, while in the yard a U.S. marshal stood over what appeared to be the dead body of a man sprawled halfway between the barn and the house.
“Oh, my word,” Lucinda cried. “What happened?”
“Go to Ed,” Declan ordered her, hauling the team to a stop. Jumping down, he rushed over to the man in the yard.
Lucinda ran to Edwina. “Are you all right? Who is that man? What’s going on? Where’s Maddie?”
“You people are insane, that’s what’s going on,” Mrs. Kemble burst out, her color high and frizzy curls framing her face. “I want you out of here before you ruin me completely. I run a proper boarding house. Now I got dead bodies in the yard, strangers and Indians in my barn, that vicious dog running around, and who knows what else.” Whirling, she stomped into the house. “Wait ’til I tell Ruby!”
Lucinda put her arm around Edwina, who had her arm around Silas. Both were still crying. “Who is that?” she asked, staring in horror at the bloody body Declan and the marshal were examining.
“Silas’s brother,” Edwina blubbered. “It’s all about that mine in Maddie’s photograph. He was convinced Maddie knew where the claim papers were, but she didn’t
, so he hit her and blood went everywhere. Then Ash rode up and shot his ear off just before Maddie shot him in the stomach with that little pistol you made her carry—shot the brother, not Ash—then his giant dog ran up and attacked the man and Ash stuck him in the throat with a big knife—the man, not the dog. Then Ash fell down, and Maddie was crying and—it was horrible, Lucinda. Just horrible. And Ash said Thomas has been shot.”
Lucinda looked around but saw neither the Cheyenne nor Maddie nor Mr. Wallace. Terror clutched at her. “Where is Maddie? Is she all right?”
“She and Ash are at the trough out back trying to wash off the blood and clean his dog. You should see her poor nose, Lucinda—that’s where he hit her—and something’s wrong with Ash, his head or something, although he doesn’t seem injured. He said Thomas is with the reverend and they’re on their way back, but I don’t know how bad Thomas is hurt. I need Declan.” And shoving the crying Silas toward Lucinda, she waddled off, wailing for her husband.
Just when things were starting to settle down, the reverend arrived in a buckboard with Thomas lying, unconscious, in back, and things got crazy again.
Because Mrs. Kemble didn’t want Indians in her house, they had to put Thomas in Maddie’s little wagon. The doctor came and said Thomas would recover if fever didn’t get him, and Maddie would look worse than she felt for a while.
Meanwhile, Mr. Wallace was suffering a debilitating headache from his old injury and had collapsed upstairs, and Maddie looked as if she had a pound of sticking plaster stuck to her face. Silas was still crying, Declan had his hands full settling down Edwina, and Mrs. Kemble continued to rant.
The only ones not in near hysterics were the dog, who was sleeping happily despite tearing up a man’s throat; the reverend, who had generously offered to take Silas under his wing and was even now packing up to go back to his brother’s cabin; and Lucinda, who was a master at putting on a calm front even when she was screaming inside.