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“Hopefully find someone as generous as you've been to help me travel farther.”

“My sister-­in-­law, Winnifred Davis, lives there. Sometimes places around town have news boards set up where people leave notes for travelers. Might be able to find you someone on one of them.”

She thought that a great idea. “Thank you.”

Because he had to stop and sell his medicines at farmhouses and in small towns along the way, it took more than a few days to travel the sixty plus miles to reach Fort Collins. Eddy found him to be respectful and considerate, and his hunting and fishing skills allowed them to feast on rabbits and fish.

Eddy had never been to Fort Collins. Mr. Pickerel told her it had been erected in 1864 to protect the Overland Trail mail route and travelers during the Indian wars of the mid-1860s. The fort was decommissioned in 1867 and the area around it was now bustling with farmers and businesses.

When they reached the city, he stopped his wagon in front of an old house. “This is my sister-­in-­law's boardinghouse. She might be able to put you up until you find another ride.”

“Since I can't pay her for the room, do you think she'll let me cook or clean in exchange?”

“Let's go in and see.”

Eddy worried his sister-­in-­law would be wary of her, but when Abner explained about the robbery and why she was traveling with him, Mrs. Davis fussed, “My goodness. Gotten so decent women can't even walk down the street. So you're on adventure to California?”

“I suppose you can call it that.” Eddy liked her.

“I always wanted to go on an adventure. Closest I ever got was the long wagon train ride from Kansas to here with my late husband Bill. After all the trials and tribulations of that, I was cured. Been rooted here ever since.”

“Mr. Pickerel said you might have a room to rent, but because of the thief I don't have any money.”

“I am one boarder short. How do you plan to pay me?”

“I'm an excellent cook and I can help with laundry, scrub floors. I don't expect you to take me in for free.”

“I would like to have my floors scrubbed,” she replied as if thinking aloud. “The girl I used to depend on recently moved to Colorado Springs.”

“Then may I do them in exchange for a room for a few days?”

“Yes, you may.”

“I can start now if you wish.”

“You just traveled all the way from Denver. You need to eat, rest up, and get your strength back. The work can wait until the morning.”

Eddy was grateful for the boon. She was bone tired from the travel and the days of sitting on the hard wooden seat of Mr. Pickerel's wagon and could certainly use the rest.

After dinner, she was given a tour of the house. It wasn't a particularly large one but Eddy knew doing the task in the manner she was accustomed to would take most of her day.

So the next morning after a hearty breakfast, she began. By sunset the floors in all the rooms had been scrubbed and waxed. It was backbreaking work, and when she was done her knees ached and her hands were red and chapped from the hot soapy water.

Mrs. Davis gushed over how beautiful the floors looked. “Oh my, look how they shine! Are you sure you don't want to stay here and work for me, Eddy? I could really use a hand. I'm willing to pay. It won't be much though.”

Eddy thought the floors looked mighty fine, too. “I thank you for the offer and for allowing me to stay, but I really need to find a way west if I can, and the sooner the better.”

“But, Eddy, think about it. You could start saving again and maybe by next year this time have enough for the train ticket.”

She was right of course. The ticket stolen from her had cost almost seventy dollars. Depending on how much Mrs. Davis was able to pay, it could take a year to save that amount. In the meantime, she would have a nice place to stay. However, California was her goal, but having been raised to be polite, she said, “Let me sleep on it and I'll give you an answer in the morning.”

“That's fair. Go get cleaned up and help yourself to dinner. You've earned it.”

After dinner, Eddy sat in the small upholstered chair in the room she'd been allowed to use and yawned tiredly. Deciding to prepare for bed, she searched through her carpetbag for her nightgown and was about to remove her clothing when a knock sounded on the door. Walking over to it, she found Mr. Pickerel on the other side.

“Can you come to the parlor for a moment? Got some people I want you to meet.” He must've seen the confusion on her face because he explained, “Met a man and his wife going to Salt Lake City. His wife is carrying and they're looking to hire a woman to drive one of the wagons.”

She was stunned

He smiled. “Told you I'd help you out.”

Once again she wanted to kiss him.

When Eddy entered the room, the young White couple looked surprised. Eddy wondered if it had to do with her race but decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and to keep an open mind.

“This here is Miss Eddy Carmichael,” Mr. Pickerel said, introducing her. “She helped me drive from Denver.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the husband said. “Name's Henry Cates. This is my wife, Candace.”

Eddy noted the skepticism in his gaze as he assessed her, but said, “Pleased to meet you as well. Mr. Pickerel said you're looking for a driver?”

When he didn't respond, Candace spoke up, “Yes, we are, and if you can drive a team of mules, we'd be real pleased to have you come with us. Right, Henry?” she asked pointedly.

His face reddened. Nodding, he stammered, “Um, yes. Real pleased. Can you drive a mule team?”

“I can.”

“How many?”

“I've never driven more than four.”

“You know how to hitch, unhitch, and put 'em up for the night?” he asked.

Eddy nodded. “I do.” She was never more thankful for being the daughter of a teamster. “My daddy was a teamster. Did overland hauling. He taught me to drive.”

Candace smiled. “Will you be able to leave first thing in the morning?”

“I will.”

They discussed where to meet, what time, and how much they were willing to pay. Upon hearing the amount, Eddy did her best not to kick up her heels with glee.

Henry added, “Probably take us a month or more to go through the mountain passes and all.”

“That's fine.” Eddy knew that driving mules was even more backbreaking than scrubbing floors, and until her ride with Mr. Pickerel she'd never driven such a long distance. This journey would be a tremendous challenge, but to earn the fee they'd promised, she'd drive those mules smiling and standing on her head. After a few more moments of discussion to clarify her duties and such, the Cateses departed.

Eddy said to Mr. Pickerel, “Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome.”

Mrs. Davis groused, smiling, “Abner, if I didn't love you so much I'd take a switch to you for finding a way for Eddy to leave me, but I'll forgive you.”

He grinned.

“Mrs. Davis, thank for your hospitality,” Eddy offered.

“Thank you for my floors. Go on up and get some sleep so you'll be ready to leave on your next adventure.”

Up in her room, Eddy changed into her nightgown. Thanks to Mr. Pickerel, she was that much closer to her goal. Still smiling, she crawled into bed.

Chapter Two

J
ust as she'd predicted, the journey was arduous. The first three days her arms hurt so much from the strain of holding the reins, she had trouble raising them, but as time went on they became stronger. The Cateses were Mormons. They'd been married less than a year and had been driven from their homestead in Iowa by persecution that had hounded the sect in many parts of the country since the 1830s. According to them, there were communities of people who shared their faith in Utah Territory and they were looking forward to living there and raising their child in peace. The baby was due to be born by summer's end.

As they crossed Colorado, Henry Cates didn't have much to say to Eddy, but Candace with her smile and grace more than made up for his terse company. Henry drove the main wagon, which was filled with farming equipment and some of their household furniture. Eddy, riding with Candace, drove the wagon filled with clothing, bedding, and Candace's precious trove of books.

“I want to start a lending library once we get settled,” she explained one morning as they drove through a chilly fog-­shrouded valley accompanied by birdsong. “Henry and I had quite a disagreement over them. He wanted me to leave them behind, but I told him if I couldn't take my books, he'd be going on without me.”

“May I ask why you wanted a woman driver?”

“Henry's got a lot of jealousy inside. He didn't want me around another man.” Then she laughed. “Look at me, I'm as large as a sow. What man is going to want a woman carrying? But he was as adamant about finding a woman as I was about my books.”

“So, you drove all the way to Colorado from Iowa?”

“Yes, but our driver was Henry's cousin, who lives in Fort Collins. He took the train to our homestead to help us. I told Henry we stood little chance of finding a woman to drive all the way to Salt Lake City, but we found you.” She turned Eddy's way and said earnestly, “God was with us, and with you, too.”

Although Eddy had never been a churchgoer, she had to agree.

The journey was filled with long tiring days and cold nights. They crossed rivers, got lost on a few occasions, and were forced to double back. They heard wolves howling at night, saw bighorn sheep, deer, and lots and lots of birds. Eddy used her stove to cook stews made from the rabbits Henry snared and the root vegetables the couple had stored in her wagon. When travel took them near small streams and lakes, fish and water fowl was added to the fare. Throughout it all they were surrounded by the most beautiful expanse of country Eddy had ever seen. Other than the drive with Mr. Pickerel to Fort Collins, she'd never ventured very far from Denver and had no idea Colorado and its mountains and valleys offered such spectacular views.

As Henry estimated, it took a bit over a month to reach Salt Lake City. After receiving her fee and thanking them, Eddy paid for a room at a local boardinghouse and savored sleeping in a real bed, even if the mattress was not the best. The next morning, she got directions to the train station from the lady owner of the boardinghouse and set off to buy herself a ticket west. Being closer to her goal filled her with excitement. She was pleased to learn that a westbound train was due in a few hours, so she paid the agent the price for a ticket and sat down to wait.

While seated, she thought about all she'd experienced since leaving Denver and wondered how her nieces and sister were faring. She planned to keep her promise to Portia and Regan about returning to visit once she got herself settled in California, and thought maybe they could train out and visit her if Corinne agreed. Eddy also wondered what her parents would think of this. Her mother would worry as she always did about her girls, but her father would be proud that she'd taken her life by the horns in an effort to better herself. Were they still alive, she'd probably be married with children of her own by now because that was what the future held for well brought up young women. Her younger self had often dreamed of finding someone who loved her as much as her parents loved each other, but their deaths caused her to set aside all fanciful thoughts and concentrate on the reality of finding food and shelter. Now, she was far past the age of being sought after, and although that saddened her, she had her dreams, and if she could make them come true by working hard and never giving up, that would be more than enough.

When the train arrived, she and the handful of passengers boarded. She chose a window seat to take in the sights. After placing her cookstove and carpet bag at her feet she made herself comfortable. As the whistle blew to signal the departure, she wanted to cheer. Eddy Carmichael was on her way to California.

According to the conductor's announcement, the route would take them across Nevada then south to a city called Reno. There she would change trains to one that would take her into California and on to San Francisco, her final destination.

The ride was uneventful. She'd never seen desert before, but Nevada seemed to be filled with it. As the train chugged its way over the landscape, she took in the mountains on the horizon and the wide-­open land that spread out beside the tracks. At Reno, she left the train, and with the help of the kind conductor got in a long line of people bound for California, but when the ticket agent informed everyone that due to problems with the track the train wouldn't arrive for another three days, she was crestfallen.

Seated on a bench in the station, she was once again weighing her options. Something bumped her foot. A child's ball. A little boy ran over. Having only a limited knowledge of small children, she guessed he was five—­maybe six. He had straw gold hair and bright blue eyes. “May I have my ball back, ma'am?”

Smiling at him, she handed it over.

“Thank you,” he replied shyly.

A man dressed in all black and wearing a clerical collar walked up. He was tall with sandy brown hair and appeared to be middle-­aged. Although his eyes were as icy blue as a winter sky, his face and smile were kind. “I'm sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to bother you. The ball got away from us. Trying to entertain him while we wait for our wagon to be fixed.”

“No apologies needed.”

The little boy ran off to play with the ball in the field near the depot.

The man further explained, “Brought the boy here hoping to show him the train, but the agent said it's delayed.”

“I know. I was planning on taking the train, but now I'm trying to decide what to do.”

“We're on our way to Sacramento. My bishop has assigned me to a mission there. I'm a Catholic priest. My name's Father Nash.”

“I'm Eddy Carmichael.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Carmichael.”

“Pleased to meet you as well.”

“If I can be so impolite to ask, where are you bound?”

“San Francisco.”

“You're not traveling alone are you?”

“I am.”

“It's not safe for a lady to be out here alone.”

“I'm being very careful and so far have not had any problems.”

“That's good. Some people make their living preying on young women like yourself. I have two sisters, and whenever I see a woman alone I become concerned.”

He asked her how long she'd been traveling and where she was from while he kept an eye on the little boy with the ball. From their conversation, she learned he was an itinerant priest and the little boy, Benjamin, was an orphan he was escorting to an orphanage in Sacramento.

“So are you going to find a room here and wait for the train to arrive?” he asked.

“I suppose I'll have to.” Although she hadn't planned on dipping into the money she'd been paid by the Cateses so soon.

“Why don't you ride with Benjy and me?” he offered. “The agent said the train won't be here for three days, and in three days you can already be in Sacramento and have caught the train there for San Francisco.”

Eddy hesitated.

“I understand the hesitancy but I'm a man of God, Miss Eddy. You'll come to no harm, and I could use the company and someone to help me answer the hundreds of questions Benjy seems to wake up with every morning.”

Her smile met his. She'd been depending on the kindness of strangers since leaving Denver and he seemed to have been sent from heaven. “I'll accept, but you'll have to let me pay you and cook along the way.”

“Benjy and I will accept your generous offer to cook, and if you want to pay me something, I'll put it in the collection plate at the orphanage. The sisters there could use the help. So are we agreed?”

Saved once more, she said, “Yes, we are.”

“Let's round up Benjy and see if the wagon's ready.”

An hour later they were under way.

I
t was mid-­afternoon as the old Conestoga bumped along the rocky desert road, Eddy was glad for the shade provided by the aged and patched canvas. The heat was stifling. Benjy was asleep in the back and she was sharing the seat with Father Nash. They'd been traveling just over two hours when she sensed something not quite right. They were supposed to be traveling west, but from the sun's position in the sky they seemed to heading south. “Are we heading south?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, we are, but first things first. What else do you have to offer me besides your cooking?”

She studied him. “I offered to pay you, too, remember?”

“I do but I'd like something a bit more substantial.” The eyes she looked into were mocking.

“Meaning?” she asked, suddenly wary.

“You're a beautiful woman, I'm a healthy man. Need I say more?”

Eddy fought down the fear spreading up her spine. “You're not really a priest, are you?”

“No, just a healthy man who likes to prey on pretty little pigeons like you. You'd be amazed how many people fall for this priest getup and the story.”

Eddy stiffened.

He glanced over. “How about you open that blouse and let me see what you got in there.”

“No!”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Never been one to force a woman. I may be a scoundrel but I have scruples. Give me your money then.”

“No!” she snarled.

He chuckled and pulled back on the reins to halt the team. “This isn't a discussion, girl.” He reached beside him and brought out a knife. The large shiny blade glittered in the sun. “I'd hate to scar that pretty face.” He beckoned with his free hand. “Give me your money.”

Shaking with reaction and terrified about what he might do if she continued denying him, she reached into her handbag.

“All of it honey. Benjy and I have to eat.”

“And I don't?” she snapped.

“Lift that skirt and I'll let you keep half.”

“No.”

“The money then. We're wasting time.”

She handed him all she had, and he smiled. “Now, hop down and start walking. This is where we part ways.”

“What!”

“You don't want to bedded, I don't want you riding.”

She scanned the bleakness surrounding her. How could he do this? She picked up her brazier and carpetbag and climbed down. He tossed her a canteen. “If you ration it, you might make it to somewhere. Watch out for scorpions. They give a nasty bite.”

He drove off without a word.

Eddy was horrified. She knew she was at least two hours from the train depot, but if there was a town or settlement closer, she didn't know. Vowing never to be so trusting again, she shaded her eyes to see the sun and started walking north back to the depot, hoping Nash—­which was probably not his true name—­burned in hell.

Eddy made good headway at first and sipped sparingly from the half-­filled canteen. However, as time passed her progress slowed. After a while the stifling desert heat and the relentless blinding sun conspired with the vast open stretches of rock and sand to sap her strength so badly, it made her want to fall to her knees and surrender to whatever fate would bring, but she forced herself to keep walking. She could barely breathe. Her throat was raw from thirst. She'd taken the last precious sips of water from the canteen hours ago, or had it been days? Her brain was so fuzzy she couldn't remember. She did know that crossing the desert on foot was still better than offering herself to that snake Nash, but she also knew she'd probably die. Soon. The skin on her hands and face were blistered. She'd stumbled and fallen more times than she could count. Her skirt was torn and filthy. She'd given up trying to determine the time of day by the angle of the sun. All she wanted was water and shade, but there was none. Trying to keep the cookstove on her head took more energy than she possessed so she dropped it and stopped. Only sheer will had kept her moving until then and now it was gone, too. Black spots swam across her swollen eyes. She sensed herself swaying. When she dropped to her knees on the hot rocky ground, she barely felt it. It was the last thing she remembered.

“
I
s that someone walking?” Rhine Fontaine asked from his wagon seat. He pulled back on the reins.

His business partner, James Dade, shaded his eyes. “Looks like it.”

Rhine picked up his spyglass for a closer look. “A Colored woman. What in the hell is she doing out here alone?” A person had to be feeble-­minded to be walking across desert under the full day sun. Crossings were best done at night. A dozen questions filled Rhine's head. Had her horse run off? Had her wagon lost a wheel? He handed Jim the glass and quickly turned the team.

“Looks to be in pretty bad shape,” Jim said, still eyeing her through the glass. “She just dropped to her knees.”

By the time they reached her, she was sprawled on the ground and didn't appear to be breathing. Rhine grabbed the extra canteen and jumped down while Jim pulled a tarp from the bed and then joined him.

The first thing Rhine noted were her blistered cracked lips. He could only imagine how long she'd been walking. He placed his ear on her hot chest. She was breathing, but barely. “Miss?” No response. He tried rousing her gently. “Miss!” he called louder. Uncapping the canteen, he poured a trickle of water over her lips while Jim held the tarp above them to provide some shade. Finally, her eyes sluggishly opened. Even though she looked disoriented, relief washed over him. “Here, drink. Slowly.”