Silver Dreams (43 page)

"It's okay," Ramona said. She stuck her hand out to Winston, glanced briefly at Ross, and said, "My name's Etta Sue Kunkel, sir. From Chicago. Most recently from the Silver Spike Saloon in Central City."

"Wow!" The simple word, spilled from the circle of Ross Sheridan's mouth, spoke volumes.

Elizabeth risked at peek at Max to see if an I-told-you-so look met her gaze. Even worse. He actually mouthed the words back at her.  

Winston narrowed his eyes at Etta Sue. "How old are you, young lady?"

"Twen...thirty."

"You're thirty?" Ross parroted.

"Still young enough to have babies, if you hurry," Winston said. "Marry her, Ross. A woman like this will keep your wits sharp. And Miss Kunkel, once we get back to New York, you see that Ross goes to the newspaper office every day...and on time."

Etta Sue Kunkel hugged an obviously stunned but blessedly happy Ross. "I will, sir."

"Father, does this mean you'll help me when I go before the judge?"

"One last time, Ross. That's it."  The matter settled, Winston turned his attention to Max. "Cassidy, did you get enough dirt on this Galbotto fella to keep him from harassing my son?"

"If two dead bodies and five eye witnesses are enough, then I guess so, sir. Besides, I have my own ways of dealing with Galbotto."

Winston gave him a quick nod of admiration. "I'll just bet you do. And as for you, old timer," he said to Dooley.

Elizabeth had nearly forgotten about Dooley. He sat quietly in a corner with the discarded Denver Post in his hand, his eyes on the front page. "It's not like I can read the blasted thing," he said, "but it don't matter, because I choose not to believe it anyways."

"I'll pay your way back to New York," Winston said. "But no more goose chases that involve my family."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Sheridan, but I believe I'll stick right here. I found out I’ve got a knack for leading people up the Devil's Fork. I think I'll make a living out of taking easterners to the Fair Day for a little adventure."

"But the silver's worthless, Dooley," Max said.

"Don't matter. The easterners won't know that. Nobody reads the newspaper."

A stunned silence filled the room until Winston Sheridan began to chuckle. It came from deep down inside him and exploded in giant belly laughs that soon infected everyone. "We pray you're wrong about that, Mr. Blue. We pray you're dead wrong."

Epilogue

Max leaned against the bench seat and looked at the back of Betsy's head. Tendrils of auburn hair escaped the once neat bun at her neck and trailed over her shoulders in the wind. He'd be glad when they reached Denver and boarded a real railcar, one designed for comfort and protection from the elements.

"Darlin’," he said, "this is the exact same stretch of rail we traveled just a few days ago. Nothing's changed since then."

"Oh, but Max, it's so beautiful."

He still couldn't see what there was about this bleak countryside that captured her fancy. "Look, Betsy, you've catalogued every bush and shrub and identified every pine tree by the length of its needles. What else is there to look at?"

"What if I never come back here again?" she said. "I need to remember every detail."  She pointed to the ragged outline of the Rockies in the fading dusk. "See?  Already the mountains have lost their individuality. I can't tell where one begins and another one ends."

He frowned and rubbed his hands together. "It's almost dark and it’s cold, Bets. Let's get out of the wind and join your father in the closed car up front. He won't think much of me as a son-in-law if I let you catch a chill."

She spun around to face him. "My father! Oh, Max, I almost forgot. What did you tell him about the job offer?"

Max had been surprised and more than a little flattered when Winston had offered him a position on the
Courier News
writing staff. When he'd wavered in his answer, Winston had even raised the offer to include the title chief investigative reporter. Only someone with oatmeal for brains, or a daffy, misplaced sense of loyalty would turn down such an offer, but he couldn't ignore the recurring image in his head of a squat, overbearing little Pollack...Gus Kritsky.

"I hope you won't be disappointed," he said, "but I turned him down. There's something about the
Gazette
...it's hard to explain, but it grabs hold and won't let go. Sure, sometimes it's reporting at its meanest level, but the opportunities for individual expression are boundless. And what you write can make a difference in somebody's life, and a name for yourself. I can't give it up, not yet anyway."

Betsy wrapped both hands around Max's arm and snuggled close to him. "That's okay," she said. "I knew you'd tell him no. In his heart, he'll admire you for it, though he's liable to rant and rave for a while. It's the other position I'm glad you accepted."

He leaned back and looked at her. "What other position?"

"The one you mentioned before...the son-in-law job. You're a natural for it, you know. As a matter of fact, Papa and I both kept it open, hoping the right candidate would come along."

Max put his arm around Betsy and pulled her close. They were the only hardy souls left in the windy car as the night enveloped them. There were no windows to close but Max lowered the isinglass shade and snapped it to the sill. He tilted Betsy's face to his and kissed her, long and lovingly. Suddenly it wasn't cold any more. It was warm and cozy and solitary.

"Let's stay where we are for a while," he said. "You're right, every detail is well worth remembering."

The End

(Reader, please see note on next page)

Dear Reader. Although all characters in Silver Dreams are purely fictional, the historical details were accurately researched and portrayed to the best of my ability. When deciding how to end this story, I studied the repeal of the Silver Purchase Act which was instituted in 1890 and repealed suddenly in October of 1893 to preserve America’s gold standard. Silver barons in the West were shocked and did indeed meet in Central City to bemoan their fate. I’m quite convinced that stories of lost fortunes like Ross’s were common on that day as the news traveled fast.