Rimfire Bride (6 page)

By the time
they boarded the train, Jana had recovered some of her optimism. When she chose
a seat for them this time, she made sure they were sitting close to another woman.

“Hello,” Jana said.

“Halla,”
the woman replied.
“Sverige.”

“Sweden,” a man sitting next to her said with a wave of his hand and a broad grin.

Jana nodded and smiled. No wonder no one spoke to one another.

They had been under way for only a short time when the train was moved to a sidetrack. The conductor, without explaining the reason for the stop, pushed the door to the emigrant car aside and said that any who wanted to do so might step outside for a breath of fresh air.

Jana weighed the situation. The potbellied stove was warming the car, making it almost too hot. The heat caused the car to reek of body odor, as the people were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder in the crowd. Added to the body odor were the strange smells of various sausages and cheeses that others had brought, but the worst stench was from the curtained “convenience.”

Outside the air would be clean, but it was also quite cool. She decided that a breath of fresh air was worth the cold, so she and Greta stepped outside.

They were near no station, and as far as Jana could see, no town was anywhere on the horizon. All she could see was gently rolling country that stretched away upon all sides. The scene did, however, have a sparkling freshness, with not a cloud in the sky, and it smelled of clean earth. It was pleasant, but still a mystery as to why they had stopped.

Soon the mystery was solved as another train, going east, appeared on the main line. It roared by at tremendous speed, its cars shining bright with varnished wood, accenting paint, and polished metal fittings. The passengers looked out upon the occupants of the emigrant cars who were standing along the tracks as if they were observing an inferior species.

The scene would be repeated often during the next twenty-four hours, for every train on the line took precedence over the emigrants.

Soon after the train passed, the conductor shouted, “All aboard!” Jana and Greta went back into the uncomfortable closeness and foul air of their car, and like everyone else on the train, they tried to grab a catnap when they could.

Thirty-four hours after leaving St. Paul, their trip interspersed with at least a dozen interruptions as they pulled off onto a sidetrack to let another train pass, they arrived in Bismarck. It was seven o’clock in the evening, and since it had now been three nights since either Jana or Greta had enjoyed a real night’s sleep, they checked into the Custer Hotel, which was only a short distance from the depot.

Jana was awakened
the next morning by a knock on the door. For just a second, she had no idea where she was, then she remembered that she and Greta had checked into a hotel the night before. The room was bright with sunlight, and she knew that it was much later than she was used to awakening. Greta was still sleeping soundly beside her.

Again there was a knock, this time much louder.

“Yes?” Jana called.

“Miss,” a man’s voice said from the other side of the door, “if you stay past noon, it’ll cost you for another day.”

“What time is it now?”

“It lacks ten minutes of eleven.”

“Oh, my heavens!” Was it possible that she had slept until almost eleven o’clock? Evidently it was, because she was still in bed.

“Well, will you be checking out?”

Jana knew she needed to find somewhere for them to stay more permanently. And she had to find some sort of employment so they could afford to stay in Bismarck until spring, when Reverend Kling and the New Salem group would be coming to the Dakota Territory.

But until she found a place for them, they would have to stay in a hotel.

“We’ll be here another day,” she called back.

“That’s good. Just come on down to the desk before noon and ask for Tom McGowan. I’ll be there, and, miss, if you plan on staying a week, I can rent you a cheaper room.”

“Thank you.”

“Uhmm,” Greta said groggily. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jana said. “You just stay in bed until you rest up. As cold as it is, and as much sleep as you’ve lost in the last few days, you have no business moving around until you’re rested.”

“I am tired,” Greta mumbled as she rolled over and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

Jana got out of bed, padded across the floor to stand in front of the steam radiator for a moment to warm up, then walked over to the suitcase, where she took out a rose-colored dress with a white collar. If she was going to be meeting people today, she needed to look her best. She dressed quietly and then put a dollar on the dresser.

“Greta, I hope I’m gone for most of the day, looking for a place for us to stay. I left you some money if you get hungry,” Jana said as she opened the door to leave. “I think I saw a place downstairs where you might get a bite to eat, but don’t go wandering about on your own. I’ll see you sometime this afternoon.”

“All right,” Greta said, not opening her eyes.

Jana felt a little guilty leaving Greta all alone on their first day in Bismarck, but if they were going to survive until Reverend Kling’s group arrived, she had to find an income. Besides, Greta had to be as exhausted as Jana was after the long train trip. She hoped Greta would be able to sleep for most of the day and gather her strength.

S
tepping
out of her room at the Custer Hotel, Jana walked down three flights of stairs until she reached the lobby. She had been so tired when they arrived last night that she hadn’t paid any attention to the lobby, so she took it in now. The floor was wide, unvarnished planks of wood, and much of it was covered with a patterned carpet of rose and gray. A leather sofa and several comfortable chairs were scattered about. At least three steam radiators were pumping out heat, though no fire was burning in the fireplace.

Jana walked across the lobby to the front desk. A man standing behind the desk appeared to be checking the hotel register.

“Is it Mr. McGowan?”

“It’s Tom.” The man smiled as he extended his hand toward Jana. “Especially if you’re going to be our guest for a while.”

“Well, that all depends . . . Tom. It depends on
whether I get a job or not. Right now, I just want to make arrangements for my sister and me to spend another night here.”

“In Bismarck there’s plenty of work, especially for a pretty woman like you. We’ve got way too many men for the number of women we have. Oh, I should ask, do you have a man waitin’ for you?”

Jana almost answered immediately, but then she thought better of it. She didn’t want to complicate her stay until she was ready to move on to New Salem.

“I don’t have a man waiting for me, but I’m waiting for a man to arrive.” Jana’s answer was truthful, as far as it went, since she was waiting for Pastor Kling, though not in the way she supposed Tom meant.

“When will your man be here?”

“He’ll be here in the spring. I need to send him a telegram to tell him we arrived. Can you tell me where the telegraph office is?”

“It’s that little building just across from the railroad depot. Charley Draper can fix you right up. Now, how many nights do you expect to stay at the Custer?”

“At least for tonight. How much will it cost?”

“Like I said, it’s cheaper if you stay by the week.”

“And how much would that be?”

“I could let you and your sister stay here for five a week.”

Jana’s eyes opened wide, and a big smile spread across her face. “That settles it, Mr. McGowan, we’ll stay a week. Now I see your restaurant is closed. What time does it open?”

Tom looked down and began filling in the guest register to reflect the longer stay. “All right, it’s all taken care of.”

“Good. Now what about the hours for the restaurant?”

“Oh, Miss Hartmann, that’s not a restaurant, it’s a saloon.”

“Really? I’ve never been in one. May I look inside?”

“Sure.” Tom stepped out from behind the counter and led her to the swinging doors that opened into the saloon.

She saw about a dozen tables with chairs, and a long, polished wooden bar with a large mirror behind it. Shelves containing bottles of liquor ran across the bottom of the mirror.

“Why don’t you serve food?” Jana asked.

“We just never have.”

“Well, you should. Can you tell me where I can go to get a bite of lunch?”

“The Sheridan House has a restaurant. It’s that big building on the corner of Main and Fifth.”

“Thank you, Mr. McGowan. You’ve been most helpful.”

“It’s Tom.”

Jana smiled. He was her landlord, at least for the time being, so there was no harm in being nice to him.

Tom watched the
pretty young woman leave, hardly able to believe that he had offered to let her and her sister stay for $5 a week. The usual rate was $2.50 a night, or $12.50 if you stayed all week.

He had just let this woman stay in his hotel for practically free because he thought that an attractive young woman would bring customers to his saloon if he could convince her to be friendly to some of the men. Nothing untoward, not every man was looking for a woman to bed. Some just wanted a woman to talk to. But quite obviously he had misjudged the situation. They were sisters, but they didn’t have the same last name. One of the women must be married, and this one said she was waiting for a man.

Well, at least he would have the pleasure of seeing her, and even speaking to her on occasion, over the next week.

The Sheridan House,
where Tom had directed Jana, was also a hotel, and the huge, three-story brick building covered an entire block. An elegant, columned porch was in front. Jana stepped inside and bought a copy of the
Bismarck Tribune
before going into the dining room. She decided that reading the local paper would be the quickest way of learning more about the town, and perhaps there would be advertisements for openings.

Just inside the dining room, a slate board listed the lunch specials, and she had a hard time deciding if she wanted an elk steak, antelope stew, or fricasseed prairie chicken. She finally chose the prairie chicken since all the meat was new to her and perhaps the sauce that smothered the chicken would make it more to her liking.

The dining room was quite crowded, but she saw an empty table right in the middle of the
room and moved to it. A waiter approached as soon as she sat down, and Jana ordered the prairie chicken. As she waited for her food, she began reading the newspaper.

She saw in the paper that tomorrow, Tuesday, November 7, was Election Day. When she was in Chicago, with its half million people, she had heard no mention of an upcoming election, but here in a town of less than three thousand people, it seemed to be the topic of conversation at every table within Jana’s earshot.

When Drew Malone
entered the Sheridan House, he was greeted by a waiter, who escorted him to the table already occupied by his partner, Frank Allen. Frank looked up from his paper.

“Have you decided how you’re going to vote?” Drew asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from his partner.

“Not yet, but if we’re to believe the colonel, we shouldn’t vote for the Republicans or the Democrats. Have you read his editorial today?”

“I haven’t seen it yet. Is it bad?”

“Bad? Well, yes, it is bad. But it’s also truthful. Lounsberry put in print what we’ve all known for years. Both Richards and Griffin are pretty smart. They are business partners, but one runs as a Republican and one runs as a Democrat. That way no matter who wins, their gambling outfit won’t be touched.”

“Well, it’s got to stop. I’ll bet this Citizens’ Ticket Clement is pushing wins the whole shebang.”

“If it does, it’ll go a long way toward cleaning
up the politics and . . .” Frank stopped in midsentence, then leaned closer to Drew. “Well, I’ll be damned. Guess who just walked in.”

“Colonel Lounsberry?”

“No, it’s the good justice of the peace himself, Mr. Richards in person. Let’s just watch and see whose votes he buys today.”

A rotund, swarthy
man stopped for a moment just inside the door, looking around the dining room. Then he proceeded to every table, calling each person by name, smiling broadly, and shaking hands. At each of the tables, he left several tokens that could be exchanged for five cents in trade at the Palace Saloon, his place of business.

“There you go, boys,” he said magnanimously. “Stop by and have a beer on me.”

“Are you gettin’ a little worried, Judge?” someone called.

“About the election? Not at all.”

“You’ve got Colonel Lounsberry and the
Tribune
against you.”

“Why, if I didn’t have the paper against me, I’d think I wasn’t doing my job properly,” Richards replied, and a few of the customers laughed.

Richards started toward the table of an attractive young woman who was sitting alone, engrossed in the pages of the newspaper.

“Frank, who is
that woman Richards is approaching? Do you know her?” Drew asked, tossing his head toward Jana.

“I’ve never seen her before, but I like the way
she looks. I’d say she’d make a good mama for Sam and Benji,” Frank quipped.

Chuckling, Drew shook his head. “I don’t know why I stay friends with you. You keep pushing, pushing, and pushing when you know I’ve got that taken care of. Mrs. Considine has been with me for almost two months now, and she’s working out just fine.”

“Oh, yes, the giantess,” Frank teased. “But then she’s not in the market for a husband, or so I was told. . . .”

Both men laughed uproariously.

Jana looked up
from her paper when she heard the laughter. She saw two men sitting at the table nearest her, but she had been reading and hadn’t noticed them before. Of the two men, one in particular caught her attention. He had dark brown hair, was clean shaven, and had, from what she could tell from here, an athletic build. He was, she thought, a most attractive man.