Chapter 6

6

Dakota had his coffee and cobbler with the O'Tooles and with Jake's family.

He needed to hit the trail and get his horses sold, but he couldn't pass up Fiona O'Toole's good cooking. He didn't blame Bruce Collins a lick for marrying her.

He now knew better than to say that to Maeve.

"Jake, I've got to ride to all the neighboring homesteads. I can't go straight to Alton." While the cabin was a bit crowded, having people around him filled an empty place in Dakota's chest. He got mighty lonely out on his land.

"If a train comes," said Jake, "we'll hop on it. I'll leave word where you can find us. Chances are we'll be a few days waiting in town. I don't know the train schedule."

"A train arrives every few days." Dakota hunted around inside his head for any knowledge he'd gained about the trains. Truth was, he didn't go to town much. He glanced around the room. "Can we talk in private for a bit?"

Jake nodded, and the two of them stepped outside to be out of earshot of those in the house.

Dakota quickly told Jake about the attack and the letter he'd found. His jaw tight, he added, "I'll stay away from your family if you want."

Jake gave Dakota a clap on the back. "I want you along with us, Dakota. I'm sorry about this trouble dogging you. After we face Ginny's troubles, we need to talk to the sheriff in Alton. Tell him to keep an eye out."

"I will, but what happens if he sees someone hop off the train who looks like he's kin to Vic Darnell? There ain't much he can do."

Jake frowned. Then his eyes went sharp, and he snapped his fingers. "When we get back, I'll bring you over a couple of our puppies."

"You still get a litter every spring?"

"We gave the first batch away. Then our dog had another litter, and they must be half wolf 'cause there ain't any male dogs around. These latest litters have gone fast. We got more last spring, and they're all gone. Joseph handles it with Bruce's help. We'll save a couple of 'em for you next spring."

"If I can get back to my meadow alive, it gets mighty quiet in the wintertime. No one's gonna come huntin' when there's twenty feet of snow on the ground. The dogs are a good idea. Thanks." Dakota gave a grim laugh with no humor in it. "Who knows, maybe I can live to an old age on my quiet ranch."

Jake clapped him on the back again. "If we get things solved with the Darnells, maybe you can see about a wife and a family. It's a fine thing to have both."

"Maybe. Someday. Sure as certain not now."

"We'll figure something out, Dakota. You should come and live in Hidden Canyon with us. Chances are the Darnells won't be able to find you there."

"So you aim to solve Ginny's problems and finally be clear of your need to be hermits, but then you'll turn right back into hermits to hide me? Because if you come and go openly from that canyon, you're gonna wear a trail and it won't be hidden anymore."

"You're right about that. Well, we're going to do something, Dakota, I promise you. Seeing Ginny face her troubles head on and fight makes me want to do the same for you."

Dakota felt the constant tension he lived with ease a little. He stayed alert, practically on a razor's edge, at all times. And for now, he needed to keep doing that. But maybe something could be done about his troubles. The thought gave him hope. "All right, I'll see you in Alton. The horses usually sell fast."

Jake looked around, then leaned in close and said, "We aren't telling anyone, but if we're gone, come to Cheyenne."

Dakota appreciated the show of trust. "I'm gonna hit the trail now," he said and hurried off. He hoped to sell the rest of his horses on his way to Alton. There was a shortage of well-trained horseflesh in the West. If he didn't sell them, he'd either have to let Jake go on without him or pay to ship the horses by train and bring them along. He knew Fort Bridger was on the way to Cheyenne, and the cavalry would buy every horse he had. It would cut into his profits, but he'd get enough to make it worth it.

Alton was situated on the old Oregon Trail route, with the railroad having chosen a different town in which to build a depot. That decision had been like a death knell to a lot of western towns. Later, though, they built a train spur to Alton, putting the Union Pacific a whole lot closer to Dakota. He'd heard rumors that spurs were planned for all the way to Boise. When that day came, Dakota would be an hour's horseback ride to the train, and he could rush all over the country selling horses if he had a mind to.

Yet he preferred to do business with his neighbors. He knew the price he charged for one of his horses, set at twenty-five dollars a head, was fair. He might get as much as ten dollars more if he drove a hard bargain. Either way, it gave him a sense of satisfaction to provide something badly needed to his neighbors.

Dakota rode on, winding his way between homesteads, and was three days on the trail to Alton.

Beth was weary when they reached Alton. They shouldn't have stayed so long at the O'Tooles' place, but it was so encouraging to see their old friends again. It helped them remember what freedom meant. It was a reminder that what they wanted was worth fighting for.

Mama rode beside her, with Jake on the other side of Mama. Maeve was on Beth's left. Oscar and Donal followed close behind. Now Mama guided her horse close to Beth, then closer still.

Beth saw the fear in Mama's eyes as she looked around the bustling little railroad town. It seemed like anything the railroad touched, whatever it was thrived.

That Alton had gotten a spur to the main Union Pacific line had saved the town after being bypassed by the Transcontinental Railroad. Many became ghost towns when they were bypassed. The spur helped Alton to double in size. The streets were full of horses and wagons, people gathered in small clusters, including women and children.

"So many people," Mama said in wonder. "It's almost overwhelming. To think I once lived in Chicago..."

Beth reached across to rest a hand on Mama's arm. Jake came up beside her. Oscar and Donal closed the distance from behind. Even Maeve rode closer.

Maeve, Jake, and Beth each had a babe in their arms. Mama, with her hands being shaky, had said she was afraid she might drop one of them. They surrounded her now, everyone's eyes peeled. Beth realized she was actually looking for her father. But of course he wouldn't be here. He'd send minions to do his dirty work.

Surrounding Mama was exactly the right thing to do.

Oscar said, "Let's go get you registered at the hotel, Ginny. I'll guard your door while Jake sees about the train schedule. Maybe we can get out of here without spending the night. In the meantime, you need somewhere safe to rest for a while."

Oscar looked at Donal. "Can you wait until we find out when the train is coming through?"

Donal was a fully grown young man now and as tough as any pioneer. "I told Ma not to expect me until she sees me. I've got supplies to buy and a few other errands, but I'll stay close if you'd prefer it."

"Run your errands, but don't head home just yet." Jake had eyes sharp for trouble, and Beth felt as safe as was possible given the circumstances.

"I-I do feel exposed." Mama shook her head. "I used to ride around Chicago in a carriage whenever I chose. My goodness, I don't even know myself anymore. I feel like a terrible coward."

"It's not cowardice, Mama," Jake said, "to recognize you're in danger and to be careful. That's wisdom."

"But I'm not in danger, not really. There's no way Thaddeus could know I'd appear out of the wild in this town right now."

"Truth is, Ginny, he could know." Oscar swung down from his Morgan horse. It was a draft animal, but not huge. "This is the town he visited the time he found Beth. The O'Tooles and Dakota both said they've been questioned about you. He'll be more likely to have someone here watching for any one of us than anywhere else."

Jake dismounted, Lydia in hand, and strode over to a pillar that supported the roof of the entrance to the Alton Grand Hotel. He ripped a piece of paper down from the post.

Beth didn't ask about it. The only real question was, had the picture been of Mama or of her?

Jake crumpled the paper in his fist and shoved it into his front pocket. Oscar had Jacob Jr., but even with holding a toddler, he helped Mama off her horse.

Beth got to the ground before a man had to assist her, then snagged Lydia from Jake. "Go buy tickets while we get inside."

He nodded, looked around the street in the lowering sun, then hurried away. Donal headed for the general store. Oscar escorted the women inside, and Beth trailed after, carrying two of the children.

"I'll sign the registry book for us." Oscar waved them toward the dining room. "It looks like they're still serving a meal. Go on in and get some supper. You ladies get something for Jake, Donal, and me."

Mama nodded, still shaken and looking pale. She'd known what Jake had torn down. Almost certainly it was a wanted poster, offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward for Eugenia Rutledge.

They paused before they stepped into the dining room. Mama murmured to Beth and Maeve, "I've seen the picture your father used. It looks very little like me nowadays. My skin had hardly ever seen the sun back then, and I wasn't wearing a calico bonnet."

A blue calico bonnet sprinkled with white flowers, tied under her chin with a blue ribbon. Her dress was made of the same blue fabric. It was Mama's best dress.

Beth had on a similar dress in red with yellow flowers. Both showed a year of washing. Honestly, Maeve's green gingham dress was newer and nicer than the ones they wore.

"I had on a fine dress when that picture was taken. My hair was done up in a lovely style. Like an idiot I saw nothing wrong with allowing my lady's maid to spend an hour once or sometimes twice a day fixing my hair." She shook her head in disgust. "And I changed dresses at least three times a day. A morning dress fine enough to welcome company, a walking dress so I could stroll through the park or have lunch with friends, and if we had an event in the evening, which was several nights a week, a silk gown. But even if we weren't going out, I always changed into an even finer dress for dinner."

"Can you believe how much time we spent on vanity?" Beth grimaced to think of how they'd wasted their lives. "You look better now, Mama, because you're happy and it shines out of you, even with knowing the danger you face."

"We didn't have much to do besides primp and go out to lunch or an evening at the theater."

"Now, Mama, we both worked for the church and served on committees that tried to help the poor. We raised money to improve the hospital. And Grandma and Grandpa did great work for the frontier missions, which we supported generously. We did more than drink tea and fix our hair."

Nodding, Mama said, "Yes, we did. But now we work from sunrise to sunset just to care for the children and feed the men and keep the clothing washed and mended and the cabin clean. And if Lydia is in a mood, you work through the night. It's a hard life, but it's a better one. One I believe God finds more pleasing to Him."

"You could say that both of us are more sane than before you were locked up."

"You're both fine, rational women, and no one could think different." Maeve seemed to think that settled everything.

Unfortunately, it didn't.

"Let's hope a judge agrees with both of you." Mama gave her a solemn look, then squared her shoulders and strode into the dining room. The evening meal was mostly over. The few people still eating glanced at them with the attention they'd give any stranger before going back to their meals.

By the time their plates of fried chicken had arrived, Oscar was sitting with them, and Jake was entering the dining room. No sign of Donal.

The children were fed mashed potatoes, and the older two each clutched a chicken leg in one hand. Maeve sat between the twins, helping them drink a bit of milk along with their meal. Lydia, with four shiny white teeth now, got bits of chicken mixed in with her potatoes, and she gnawed on a biscuit between bites Beth fed her.

Soon the last diner left the room until their group was all that remained. Then an older lady and gentleman walked past. The lady looked at them a bit too long, then walked out.

Beth fought down nerves, wondering if the woman was on her way to study that poster, wondering why it was gone. Were there other posters in town?

Jake took a seat and said, "The train heading east passed through yesterday. We're going to be here until at least Monday—if the train is on time. And the train being late is more common than its being on time."

The adults exchanged looks. This town wasn't where they wanted to linger. Every day, even every hour, they stayed here meant a greater chance of being noticed, and of someone passing the word on down the line to Father.

"Maybe we should go back to the canyon for a few days," Oscar said. He bit into a biscuit with some temper showing.

"A full day's ride to go home, a full day back. For a three-day wait?" Mama had furrows of worry on her forehead that looked deeper than they had when they'd ridden out of the canyon just this morning. "No. We'll stay put. Send Donal home with the horses like we planned."

Which trapped them in Alton. But they weren't about to make a run for it no matter what happened. If trouble caught up with them here, they'd just have to face it.

Jake said quietly, "I went around town and tore down four more posters. I didn't see any others. I told Donal to keep an eye out."

The chicken dinner, which was delicious, was suddenly like a stone in Beth's stomach. It was Thursday. It was going to be three days in Alton at the very least, and danger drew nearer with every hour Ginny was out of the canyon, not yet set free of the taint of madness.