Ribbons of Steel (13 page)

“Looks like they messed up the house just for fun.” Charley looked around at the chaos all around them. Sofa cushions were scattered on the floor. Newspapers lay in a heap on the end table. Coffee cups, dinner plates, and beer bottles were everywhere.

“Nawh,” Seamus drawled, a lopsided grin on his beaten face. “T’was me made the mess, I’m embarrassed to say. I’m in and out so much I don’t keep up like my Maggie does. A bit of a slob, I am. My head throbs like hell.” Seamus rubbed the palm of his hand over a lump on his temple and lay back against the arm rest and the crocheted doily.

“You were lucky they didn’t kill you. How’s your nose?”

Seamus winced. “A bit bruised and tender. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“I straightened it while you were out cold.”

“I don’t recall a thing, thank the Lord. You know, Charley, you’d better be more careful yourself. If they can sneak up on me, they’ll have no trouble coming after you, too. If they suspect you’re staying here tonight, we might both be lying on the floor.”

“You’re right. Although I expect they won’t be back. I’ll secure things just in case the bums decide to finish the job. You stay right here. I’ll fix us some coffee and something to eat in a minute.”

Charley didn’t dally. He checked all the doors and windows, then prepared a simple meal of fried potatoes and coffee. Seamus’ store of food was as low as everyone else’s in the city. With Maggie gone, there was no fresh baked bread in the house, either.

Charley placed the fried potatoes in front of Seamus, who had propped himself up against the cushions. Charley then dished himself up a plateful and sat in the overstuffed chair next to the settee and joined his friend. The two ate in silence.

Finished eating, Charley cleaned up the kitchen and then the two of them prepared to settle down for the night. It didn’t take Seamus long to fall fast asleep right where Charley had laid him.

Charley did another quick check around the house. Seamus was snoring loud enough to bring the house down when Charley returned to make sure he was okay for the night. He then climbed the stairs and found a small tidy bedroom. He lay on top of the quilt he was sure Seamus’ wife had stitched. It reminded him of the one on his and Emily’s bed in Candor.

Sleep was impossible. He tossed and turned and lay awake contemplating the recent events in Philadelphia and Candor. Was this nightmare ever going to end?

Would they all survive?

And at what cost?

Chapter Nine

The shrill blast of the train whistle filled the empty desert. The forlorn sound reverberated against the wall of the distant mountains and hung in the air.

Emily, Marian, and her boys leaned around the corner of the observation car to see what was happening up ahead. The monstrous black engine had stopped. The cow-catcher landing within arm’s length of three wooden ties stacked on top of each other across the tracks in front of the trestle.

The Aderley boys were the first to jump off the train before their mother could stop them, their excitement evident at a new adventure. Their confinement of the past few days found them running faster than mustangs on an open range. But before they could go too far, the conductor’s loud bellow stopped them in their tracks.

“Whoa, there, laddies. You ain’t thinking ’bout crossing this here bridge are ya? There’s a hole in it as big as a Chinaman’s laundry pot. We don’t want ya to be slipping down through it. It’s a long ways to the bottom, it is.”

Jonathan and Jason looked from the conductor to the bridge and back again, their curiosity piqued. Emily could tell the boys wanted to walk right up to the gaping hole halfway across the trestle.

A white-gloved porter stepped forward and helped Marian down the steep iron steps to the hot desert floor where she proceeded to scold her sons.

Emily waited her turn for assistance down off the railcar. Behind her, Elizabeth Young, with her sound asleep baby in tow, was next. The snoring passenger, Mr. O’Leary, followed. He wore his chesterfield with a velvety black collar a bit wrinkled and out of place in the heat of the afternoon. He rubbed his eyes, squinting in the blinding sunlight overhead, and yawned. He nodded to Emily, then wandered a ways from the steel rails and hissing train. The porter helped the sisters, Pansy and Violet Weaver down next. They straightened their hats and smoothed their skirts when they stepped away from the train onto the dry earth, their thick-heeled shoes digging into the coarse, sandy soil.

Others climbed down, fanning themselves against the arid desert heat. Emily’s gingham dress clung to her legs, her skin damp from perspiring. She ruffled the hem hoping for a bit of air to cool her body. But her skirts flapped back against her legs, making it difficult to find relief.

The train gave a final burst of steam. A billow of sooty smoke rose quickly, then drifted back down. The silence was heaven. No loud clicking of the train wheels, or loud steam hissing from the monster locomotive. Emily soaked up the silence and made her way toward the edge of the steep ravine, being mindful not to get too close. She could see the trestle in the bend up ahead. Nothing looked amiss at this angle. She looked down into the ravine to her left. The great gushing river far below churned and twisted as it made its way along its well-worn path.

Emily longed for a cool drink of water. Even a cup of Sassafras tea would go a long way to help reduce her fever, which had spiked with the heat. She dabbed at the moisture on her forehead. The hot sun baked down on them with no relief in sight. Emily wiped her brow and sighed. She stretched her back and momentarily wondered what it would feel like to submerge her weary body in the flowing river down below to relieve her aches and pains. She took a step closer.

The conductor shouted to the crowd. “Stay close to the train. Do not wander too far away. We’ll telegram ahead for assistance.”

She froze. His loud voice drew her back.

How long would they have to wait for help to arrive way out here in the middle of nowhere?

“You expect us to simply sit down and wait for help to come from the other side of Weber Canyon?” one of the passengers called out.

“Why not turn around and go back to the last town?” Mr. O’Leary asked.

“Impossible,” the conductor said. “We have no means of turning this locomotive around. Besides, the coal supply is too low, and there isn’t a water tower close by to get enough steam going.”

“There’s plenty of water down below,” another passenger spoke up, pointing down at the flowing river.

“Won’t do us any good, sir. Like I said, the coal supply is low, and we can’t get turned around.”

Mumbles from the crowd ensued. Emily crossed to Marian’s side as Jonathan and Jason made a mad dash toward the edge of the ravine. But before their mother could stop them, Mr. O’Leary called out to them.

“Boys, you don’t want to be getting too close. You go over the edge, and there’s no telling how we’re going to rescue you.”

“Thank you, kind sir, for keeping the boys in line,” Marian said. “You surely saved them from a bad fall.”

“I won’t fall,” the younger boy boldly said. He turned to defy Mr. O’Leary’s claim, never looking at his mother. “’Sides, I’m strong, and I can climb back up by myself.”

“That may be,” Mr. O’Leary said, hands on his cane, his hat tipped back on his head, “But your mother here isn’t going to appreciate the fact you aren’t minding your manners in this difficult situation.”

“Mr. O’Leary’s right,” Marian scolded. “Both of you come back over here in the shade this instant.” Marian took her daredevil son by the collar and frog-marched him toward the train where she could keep an eye on them. “Come sit here in what little shade we have. It’s altogether too hot to be working up a sweat with your misbehaving.”

Emily hadn’t paid much attention, but Marian was right. The only shade visible was next to the train, the sun having dipped over the other side of the big, black, lifeless locomotive. People stretched along the rails hugging what little shade they could find. Still, it wasn’t sufficient to cool their heated bodies.

An hour later, there was still no word on what was to become of them. The boys grew restless, and several of the passengers wandered away from the train.

“When the night cools, the cars will cool down as well and we can go back inside,” the conductor said. “You’ll all be able to get some rest in the sleeping cars.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with the strike back east?” Emily sighed.

“I bet bandits are gonna come and rob the train,” Jonathan announced, matter-of-factly. “I bet they are.”

“Are not,” Jason taunted his brother. “I bet it’ll be Injuns. This is Injun country.”

“Bandits. Injuns don’t rob trains.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Boys. Please. We’re not going to be robbed. By bandits or Indians.”

Emily hoped Marian was right. She looked over at Elizabeth Young to see how she was fairing with the little one. But like others, they had climbed back on board to find a more comfortable seat despite the extreme heat.

As the afternoon wore on, the heat from the desert sun baked down on the stranded passengers and crew. The inside of the train was hotter than a wood stove. Those who had gone inside were forced out by the extreme temperatures. They came out wiping at their temples and necks, their hair damp, their clothes and bodies limp. They joined the trainmen who still lined the rails using the shadow of the railcars for shade. Some found shelter next to a large cactus growing next to the bridge. Emily hoped they didn’t get pricked by the long quills sticking out of the odd-looking plant.

Two men climbed up from the ravine with buckets of water. Going from person to person, women and children first, they dipped into the cold water and distributed it. Emily drank from the tin cup. She let the cool liquid slide slowly down her throat before she drained the rest of the sweetness to help quench her parched mouth.

The men made several trips up and down the ravine until everyone had been given sufficient water.

Unfortunately, the drink revived the Aderley boys, and they grew even more restless and wandered off. Emily, no longer able to just sit by and watch the young mother try to soothe her whimpering baby, wandered over and introduced herself.

“I’m Emily Carmichael. I have children and a young baby back home in New York. You look to be worn out. Why don’t you let me hold your baby while you get a bit of rest?”

“I’m Elizabeth Young. Thanks for your offer, Mrs. Carmichael, but I’m fine.”

“My dear, you won’t do your child any good if you pass out. Let me help.”

The young mother’s face changed from concern to resignation.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind, I am feeling a bit fatigued.”

Emily took the baby from Elizabeth. The darling baby girl reminded her of little Sarah. She had the same hair coloring. Tufts of dark black stuck up and curled at the very ends. Large dark brown eyes, just like Sarah’s, gazed up at Emily. Her smooth, pink complexion was identical to her own sweet baby’s. Emily’s heart ached. She nuzzled the baby, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and rocked her in her arms. The baby quieted. Emily spread the hand-crocheted blanket on the ground and gently laid the baby down in her own shadow. Still too hot, the child whimpered, her arms and legs kicking in protest. Emily removed unnecessary pieces of clothing from the baby with infinite care. She soaked her handkerchief in the cool water the men furnished from the river. She sponged the baby down to cool her off. The baby finally relaxed and lay limp, exhausted from the heat. Only then did Emily proceed to cool her own brow.

Tears trickled from the corner of Emily’s eyes. She blinked them back, but they rolled down her dust covered cheeks. She rinsed the hanky out and wiped her own face and neck again to remove some of the dust. She sighed and sat back, making sure the baby lay within the cover of her shadow. She hadn’t wanted to leave her children. Mrs. Aderley might be having a hard time of it with her two boys on this trip, but she was fortunate to have them near. Her boys would have enjoyed the adventure. Just like Jason and Jonathan. And, Mrs. Young. Oh, to have Sarah in her arms again. She missed them so much.

A rumble shook the ground. Small pebbles in the desert sand jumped up and down. A hush fell over the stranded group as the sound of thundering hooves drew in from every direction. Alert, everyone stood, circling together to peer in between the stranded cars to see what the ruckus was all about.

In the far distance, a cloud of dust met the clear blue skies. For what seemed like miles, a screen of brown obliterated the cause of the sand storm. Emily grabbed the baby from the blanket and held her close to her bosom. Mrs. Young, frantic, ran toward Emily, yelling, her arms outstretched.

“My baby. My baby. Give me my baby.”

Emily handed the baby to Elizabeth who clutched her baby and ran up into the train.

Others ran for the safety of the train as well. Emily, too transfixed to do anything, stood by and stared in awe at what looked like a sandstorm blowing across the plains. A shrill, piercing scream filled the air as Marian Aderley called for her boys.

“Jonathan. Jason. Where are you?
Jonathan! Jason!
Come here. Quick. Get inside the train.”

But there was no answer. Marian called again, her voice strained. Emily sympathized with the alarmed mother and ran to her side.

“Help,” Marian screamed. “I can’t find my boys. My boys are missing. I can’t find my boys.”

Emily couldn’t see them either. They had been exploring and had, more likely than not, wandered to the other side of the observation car.

“Around the back side,” Emily yelled, and motioned with her hand. “Check round the back.”

No time for modesty, both women lifted their skirts high, simultaneously, mindless of the show of their stockings. There was no telling what was headed their way.

Marian was already around the back of the train just as Emily approached the glistening, hot rails.

“Buffalo. A dang herd of buffalo coming our way,” a man shouted.

“Get back inside the train,” the conductor yelled to those still standing, gaping at the bizarre scene in front of them. He blew his whistle to get their attention. Everyone milling about rushed toward the train.