Authors: Cynthia Thomason
Once the mining necessities were taken care of, there was still the matter of numerous personal goods. They needed tents, cooking utensils, and non perishable food...enough to last at least two weeks. The men bought rubber boots, denim pants and work shirts, and after much persuasion, Elizabeth let Ramona talk her into three pairs of the dreaded britches.
The problem of getting the supplies up the mountain was solved by purchasing five sturdy backpacks and renting four burros to carry the heaviest goods. Three might have sufficed, but Elizabeth insisted on one extra so no animal would be over burdened.
The substantial bill was paid and arrangements were made to pick up the supplies and pack the burros early the next morning. Then Dooley cut a direct path to the nearest cafe, Elizabeth went back to the hotel for a bath, and Ramona disappeared into the Buzzard's Roost Saloon until Ross picked her up for supper. The entire party, knowing they faced the first of a difficult three-day climb up the Devil's Fork decided unanimously to retire early.
Max insisted on walking Elizabeth to her room, saying he didn't want to worry about her being sidetracked to any barrooms or alleys.
"As if I would do that again," she said. But when she opened the door to her room, she allowed Max to stick his head inside for a quick inspection.
"All clear," he proclaimed. "And once we're on the mountain, I doubt Hildebrand will follow us. He'll be much too afraid that you'll toss him over the side of a cliff. But I wouldn't be surprised if he's waiting here in Georgetown for you when we come back down."
She shivered at the thought. "You don't really think so, do you Max? Surely he'll grow tired of chasing us."
"Not
us
, darlin’,
you
. I've got enough of my own devils to worry about without adding yours to my list. I’m practically blameless in the Hildebrand caper."
She affected an indifferent shrug though her insides were quivering at the thought of the detective's revenge. "Well, no matter. If he does show up here, I'll think of something."
"I'm sure of that." Max stepped away from her door and into the hallway. "Well, goodnight, Betsy. See you in the morning."
He hesitated a moment and then added, "I'm right down the hall you know...if you need me."
"I know." She stopped him before he reached his own room. "You know, Max, it's funny."
"What's that?"
"The way things turn out. Back in New York I tried my darndest to get you to come out here with me, and you'd have none of it. You scoffed at the idea of Dooley's mine. And now here you are, smack in the thick of everything anyway. It's just funny, that's all."
"Yeah, I guess it is." He gave her a lopsided grin. "To tell the truth, I still don't believe you'll find anything up there, and back in New York, I meant what I said. I didn't want to come. But it was never because of you. And now, like you said, it's funny...now I'm even glad I'm here."
She smiled back at him. "See you in the morning, Max."
Once in her room, Elizabeth sat at a small desk, took out her writing utensils and turned up the gas jet on her lamp. She wrote down recent events using her most professional reporter style. But she ended with a very personal observation.
"Yesterday I found myself in a most precarious situation. I might even have lost my life at the hands of nefarious Central City hoodlums who tried to rob me. My life and property were spared due to a daring rescue by the dashing and brave Max Cassidy, reporter
for the
True Detective Gazette
. This man singlehandedly and without regard for personal wellbeing, defeated the unscrupulous ruffians and delivered me to safety. My gratitude cannot be measured in mere words."
Satisfied with what she'd written, she replaced the cap on her inkwell and removed the metal tip from her pen. Everything she'd said was true, but even those flowery sentiments did not fully or accurately express her feelings for Max. He had come to her rescue more than once since she'd left New York. Even as the close-mouthed, conservative Mr. Dree, he had helped her out of a difficult situation.
She put on her nightgown and climbed into bed. When she extinguished her light, she was still thinking of Max. She'd decided that she definitely wouldn't want to be here without him. And she was beginning to realize that the feelings she had wouldn't change once they were back in New York.
It wasn't the mountains, though they were magnificent. It wasn't the adventure, though it was thrilling. It wasn't even the prospect of reporting on the discovery of a fortune in silver. The fact was, the
Gazette
reporter had gotten under her skin and was making a bee-line for her heart.
Down the hall Max recorded his own impressions of the last twenty-four hours.
"Using the indomitable pluck of her British ancestors and the daring that comes with a red-headed temperament, Elizabeth Sheridan boldly battled her attackers. Never has this reporter seen a more courageous display of spirit in the face of overwhelming odds. My hat's off to the
Courier News
reporter."
He read over the last paragraph and included a colorful addition. "
...red-headed temperament,
the lovely
Elizabeth Sheridan..."
and
"
...
hat's off to the
unforgettable
Courier News
reporter."
"What's gotten into you, Cassidy?" he said. "Using words like 'lovely' and 'unforgettable.' You've gone soft all right...on a lass. Little did you know what would come of it when you jumped in her carriage that night. You might have been safer to take your chances with Joey the Thumb." He smiled to himself. "But it wouldn't have been nearly so much fun."
He stripped off everything but his union suit and lay on top of the bed, resting his head on his arms. He wanted to drift to sleep thinking of Betsy and how soft and wonderful she'd felt in his arms and how if he got the chance to hold her again, he doubted he'd be as gallant as he was the night before. She warmed his blood all right, and just thinking of her this way caused a flash of desire that stayed with him most of the night.
Just before falling asleep, a nagging thought came to him. You’d do well to remember, Max, he said to himself. She's still the daughter of Winston Sheridan of the upper east side. And you're still the son of old Seamus Cassidy from the Tarreytown Pub. She's a mansion near Central Park and you're a cold water flat.
"You've got cinders fer brains if you think you'd win the likes o' her," Max muttered in the drowsy Irish brogue just like his father’s. "Remember yer place you ragtag simp, and don't be reaching fer things yer arm's not long enough to grasp."
"You may be right, Da," Max said to the empty room, "but this time my money's not on you."
The next morning, the Fair Day party met at the outfitter’s and loaded their gear onto the burros. They led the beasts out of Georgetown toward the base of Devil's Fork Mountain.
According to Dooley's hastily scrawled directions penciled by Clyde Faraday, the mine would be found on the south side of the first mountain peak a few hundred feet from the top. That meant they actually had less than two thousand feet to travel...as the crow flies, but of course a granite mountain would offer a challenge to even a bird. Their unchartered route twisted and snaked a slow torturous path around boulders and cliffs and ragged outcroppings of rock, brush and fir trees.
"It would be a whole lot faster if we could just go straight up," Elizabeth said at mid afternoon when they stopped to give the burros a rest.
"While you’re wishing, girlie," Dooley said, "why not wish for the mine to be two thousand feet lower, then we wouldn't have to go anywhere at all."
Ramona adjusted her parasol to keep the sun off her face. "I agree with you, old man," she said. "I’d be happy if we found that mine right now."
Elizabeth puffed the front of her blouse in and out a few times to fan her chest. Looking up at the bright sun, she found it hard to believe they'd soon be freezing on the mountain top. And she was thankful Ramona had talked her into buying a wide brimmed hat. The britches had been well advised, too, and kept Elizabeth’s legs from being scratched from mountain scrubs.
"You girls best get used to the climb,” Dooley said. “We ain't likely to find the mine for at least two more days. But I seem to recall another little town betwixt here and there. If memory serves, it was called Bonanza. All the little towns had pie in the sky names like that."
"Really...a town?" Elizabeth felt rejuvenated. "You mean with a hotel and a restaurant?"
"Can't rightly remember. Just a couple of buildings I think. Lots of tents at one time. That's where most fellas lived."
"How about a saloon?" Ramona asked.
"Most always was one of those."
"Well, then, I say we've rested long enough. Let's get going. Maybe we'll reach civilization before dark."
"I wouldn't count on it," Max said, his words barely audible since they were filtered through the coach hat resting over his face.
"Why not?"
He tipped the hat back and sat up. "From what we heard at city hall, there hasn't been a reason for people to live on this mountain for years. Why would anyone stay when there's no silver? These mountains are probably pock-marked with hundreds of settlements just like Bonanza that are ghost towns now."
"He's probably right," Elizabeth said dejectedly.
"Isn't he always?" Ross smirked.
"Well, if that’s so, forget the saloon. I'll take any kind of roof over my head," Ramona said. "I guarantee it'll be cold tonight."
After three more hours dusk threatened, and the explorers had to stop without discovering Dooley's mythical Bonanza. They chose a campsite on a relatively smooth plateau of ground partially protected by an outcropping of stone and shale. The men put up the tents while Ramona and Elizabeth fixed their meal.
Everyone donned extra layers of clothes when darkness fell, and Ramona brewed a second pot of coffee to ward off the chill of rapidly dipping temperatures. When Elizabeth finished putting away the cooking utensils, she wrapped her hands around a mug of steaming coffee and sat by the fire.
Despite the cold, a peace and solitude had settled over the mountains. Never had Elizabeth seen a fuller, brighter moon. As it rose in the night sky, it came to rest on first one, than another of the distant mountain peaks. The darkness cloaked her as completely as the woolen blanket around her shoulders, and was, in a way, almost as comforting. She wished Max would sit next to her, but he was dozing with his head on his bedroll and his stocking feet near the fire pit. She didn't have the heart to wake him.
"He's a right handsome man, that Cassidy."