Cascades Christmas

by Mildred Colvin

  Chapter 5

  Several days later, with his hands and forearms mostly healed, Frederick stood on board Inferno with Jake Pearson and Stanley Kenicky. He struggled to move within the crowded space. Jake was stoking the engine with his usual arrogance, while Stanley looked ready to jump off before the train had a chance to move.

  The company was in the process of acquiring a new locomotive to replace the one that had gone over the bridge and crashed. At least one more engineer was needed to run it, and Stanley’s father had decided that Stanley was ready for the job.

  “Nothing to worry about, kid,” Jake said. “Just keep the fires burning hot and know when to use the brakes.” He gave the young man a slap on the back and then threw more wood into the furnace.

  Stanley looked even paler than a moment ago.

  Frederick groaned. It was going to be a long day. Jake had done well learning to use the brakes and the furnace. The problem was that he hadn’t learned to use them at the appropriate times. Frederick hoped to get a moment alone with Jake and ask him about his sister. He wanted to spend more time with her and become a true friend.

  The furnace grew hot as the locomotive picked up speed.

  “I think I’ll be spending the afternoon in town running some errands for Father,” Stanley stammered as he cowered against the wall. Frederick wondered about the truthfulness of his statement but wasn’t about to question it. Grateful for the opportunity to have Stanley gone, he hoped to speak with Jake alone.

  The locomotive rolled along the tracks at a normal speed. “We’re doing real well, boys. Let’s not get carried away.” Frederick didn’t want Stanley reporting to his father that they were reckless engineers.

  “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times,” he reiterated, wishing he could toss Jake from the engine. “You need to watch the speed and not get rolling faster than what the brakes can handle.”

  The temperature rose within the small quarters of the engine car and sweat blurred Frederick’s vision. Widow’s Bend approached.

  “We’re going too fast!” Stanley screamed, white-knuckling the side of the locomotive.

  “We can handle this just fine!” Jake shouted.

  “Just hang on. Don’t worry, she always leans a little,” Frederick instructed. Wheels screeched as the engine rounded the most dangerous part of the bend and lifted.

  “Lean this way!” Frederick yelled.

  Emma jumped up and down with excitement at the chance to go into town and do some shopping. Counting her meager savings, she prayed for money enough to purchase some lace or new buttons for her mother’s green dress. Christmas was coming up, as well as a number of parties to celebrate Washington being signed into the Union. She needed time to sew something pretty to the gown.

  “Let’s go, Emma,” Mr. Kenicky hollered above the noise of the company’s new locomotive. It was good to see that the company had replaced the one that had plunged off a bridge a few weeks ago. This one had a few seats for passengers, unlike the one that crashed and left one train engineer dead. If only she could do something to help the widow and her children. Knowing the deceased man had been Frederick’s friend, Emma made a mental note to add the family to her list of folks to pray for.

  Hustling to the train, Emma took care while boarding to not get her best dress dirty. Mrs. Wilkin had decided to join them, so squeezing into the small space wasn’t an easy feat. Emma didn’t wish to rub against something that would turn her pale blue dress a horrid shade of charcoal black.

  Mr. Kenicky, who also happened to be a skilled engineer, piled wood into the furnace and soon the wheels turned round and round along the tracks. Emma squirmed like a child in church the entire way. It soon grew hot in the car, but not any hotter than standing in front of a mammoth caldron of boiling wash water.

  Mr. Kenicky was a cautious driver, and Emma didn’t flinch in the slightest as the train rounded Widow’s Bend. If anything, she enjoyed the gentle breeze that wafted into the car and cooled her flushed face.

  The town’s buildings soon came into view. Emma craned her neck to soak up every image she could. Three new stores and a large barn had been built on the end of one very long street. She could hardly wait to browse through each one of them.

  The engine’s whistle blew, startling her. She covered her ears, and the brakes screeched as if in protest. Once the train had rolled to a stop, Emma all but leapt from the locomotive.

  “I’ll be back in time to ride home for dinner.” She waved a hand over her shoulder and rushed toward the nearest mercantile.

  Strolling up and down the aisles, Emma rubbed her fingers over one bolt of fabric after another. Soft cotton, crisp taffeta, and smooth cool silks all cried out to be sewn into something beautiful, but they were out of her means. Even so, she could hardly wait to get back to camp and make use of her needle and thread.

  “Oh, how are you today, Miss Pearson?” Abigail Leonard waltzed down the fabric aisle as if she clung to the arm of a prince of England. “I hear you have a pig for a pet, and a beau.” Abigail’s cackling echoed off the walls of the store and sank deep into Emma’s heart.

  “I don’t have a beau.”

  “Oh, no? I hear you’re sweet on Frederick Corrigan, and he’s sweet on you.” Abigail jutted her chin in the air. To Emma, the haughty girl’s ruddy cheeks belied a look of pea green jealousy.

  “You’re wrong. Now, please just let me be,” Emma snapped as she turned on her heel and stomped away. The Wilkins were such a great family, Emma couldn’t figure out how their youngest daughter, Anna, could be friends with Abigail.

  As she walked away from the sneering girl, a bolt of fine imported material all but leaped out at Emma. A gasp escaped her lips, followed by a soft groan of disappointment. She caressed the fabric that would never be hers, and then she jerked her fingers back as if she’d touched a rat. No sense in dreaming over something she couldn’t afford. Her complaints to Jake about the drudgery of her job came back to her in a rush.

  Emma wandered through the mercantile with twinges of guilt following close behind her. She shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on Jake to make more money. No wonder he worked so hard. She decided to forego a dress for herself and make him a nice shirt instead. She could afford the material, and she’d pull some buttons off an old shirt to finish it.

  Moving farther down the aisle, her eyes fell on a cream-colored spool of eyelet lace. It equaled in softness the finest dress she’d ever owned. She could use it to patch a few worn spots on her mother’s dress and wear it to the Christmas Eve service. But she didn’t have the money to buy both the lace and the shirt material.

  No matter. Jake deserved a new shirt for taking such good care of her. Emma moved past the expensive dress material and the lace and proceeded to the counter.

  She pulled several coins from her reticule. “I need a few yards of that new green plaid flannel, if you please.”

  “Yes, of course,” the clerk replied, and went to retrieve her supplies. He returned a few minutes later and tallied up her purchase. Emma paid the man and was about to gather up her package when she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her.

  “Why, you’re Emma Pearson, aren’t you? Jake’s younger sister.”

  The hair on the back of Emma’s neck bristled and her hands grew cold and clammy. She made a slow turn on her heel to gaze at a leering Stanley Kenicky.

  “Good afternoon.” Emma tried to keep her voice from quavering, and failed.

  “Did you hear? Dad’s gonna give me a job running the rails on the new train.”

  “Oh.” It was all Emma could think of to say. She was getting an eerie feeling deep in her stomach from the way he looked at her.

  “I’ve seen you cleaning for the crew, helping out Mrs. Wilkin, and hanging around Frederick Corrigan.”

  A small gasp flew from Emma’s lips. What’s he doing watching my every move? She had to get away from this man.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Emma clutched her package
and fled from the store.

  “I’ll be seeing you around, you can be sure of that, Miss Pearson.” Stanley’s laughter echoed behind her, but she dared not turn and give him the pleasure of knowing how much he unnerved her.

  Chapter 6

  The early November morning had dawned crisp and clear while Inferno rolled along the tracks. Much to Frederick’s relief, Jake began to show some signs of restraint and care when it came to running the rails.

  “So how is Miss Emma today?” Frederick held his hands close to the furnace to warm them against the chilly air.

  “She’s doing fine. She’s all excited about the territory becoming a state. Been sewing on one of our mother’s dresses, trying to patch it, for the occasion.” Jake’s hand rested on the brake lever, ready for any emergency, or so Frederick hoped.

  “Er, Jake.” Frederick paused and cleared his throat. “I’d like to escort your sister to the Christmas Eve service, with your blessing of course.” There. He’d said it. He rubbed his hands together and then held them to his face for warmth.

  “That’d be fine with me. I know you’re a good man, Fred, but it’s up to Emma, and she’s real cautious with gentlemen.”

  “I see.” Frederick noted the expression on Jake’s face. Not used to seeing the man so serious, he raised his eyebrows and almost questioned Jake further, but then thought it best not to pry.

  Perhaps a man had broken her heart in the past. But plenty of women had been spurned and went on to love again. There had to be another, more deeply rooted reason for her feelings.

  The lumber mill came into view and Jake put the brakes on. When they stopped, Jake climbed down ahead of Frederick.

  “I’ve got some business in town. I’ll wait for your next trip and catch a ride home with you then,” Jake called over his shoulder as he walked toward town.

  “Sounds good, enjoy your lunch.” Frederick waved then helped the sawmill crew unload the logs from the flatcars. He was soon on his way back to the camp, with images of Emma dancing in his head like tree branches in a gentle breeze.

  “Lord, why am I thinking about her so much?” Frederick shook his head. He probably shouldn’t have given her a pig for a gift. Of course he cared for her, but he was loath to admit he was falling in love, because he wasn’t. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

  The sound of a loud pop and then a hiss brought Frederick back to the present. Another hose had burst, and now he’d have to stop and repair it. He slapped the side of the engine then applied the brakes. Time was money on the rails, and he growled at having to stop.

  An hour went by as Frederick removed the bad hose with his pocket knife and installed the new one. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but with some extra twine tied and twisted here and there, he made it work. Such was life in the logging business. Men made do with what they had and learned to think on their feet.

  “Thank You, Lord,” Frederick murmured. At least the hose had been to something else and not the brakes. “Now back to work.”

  Two miles passed by uneventfully and Frederick began to breathe peacefully again. He could go extra fast and try to make up for lost time, but after some thought he decided against it. His hand clutched at the brake lever when a doe and her fawn leapt across the tracks. He relaxed his grip as they cleared the rails with mere seconds to spare. The last thing he wanted was to stop yet again.

  Frederick’s eyes scanned the tracks ahead, wary of anything else that could slow his trip back to the mill.

  About a mile ahead, he spied a downed tree trunk lying across the tracks. “Lord, no!” He groaned and kicked the furnace so hard his foot hurt.

  Emma sewed with frantic speed on Jake’s shirt. She had gotten up a little earlier to have a few precious minutes to work on it before beginning her duties for the day. Thankfully, it was nearly done. All she had left was the buttons, and he’d have something nice to wear for Christmas. Bacon interrupted her thoughts as he trotted in from outside. She pulled him close to her chest and hugged him so hard he squealed.

  “I’m sorry, little friend. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She stroked the top of his head and Bacon looked up at her with dark eyes and grunted as if he actually understood. He had grown in the six weeks or so since Frederick had brought him to her. In another few months he might live up to his name and be on the breakfast table as opposed to cuddled in her arms. A part of her wanted to shove him away and not allow her heart to love him, but there was something about this motherless creature that nobody but her seemed to care about. Whether she willed it or not, he was winning her love.

  After setting Bacon on the floor to root around, Emma finished two buttons on her brother’s shirt. She would have to wait until the next day before it was finished. She tucked it in her sewing basket then swept the bunkhouse, carted fresh water up from the stream, and tended to the many other duties of her job.

  The cold afternoon drifted by as she filled the woodboxes and dried the dishes for Mrs. Wilkin. She ironed Jake’s Sunday clothes and lugged water from the creek for Mrs. Wilkin to cook supper with.

  “Emma, where are you?” Jake’s voice carried down to her as she was fetching another bucket of water from the stream.

  “Down here, Jake.” Emma lugged the bucket along as fast as the awkward load allowed. Much to her relief, Jake quickly came alongside her and took the pail from her hands. It warmed her heart to know how protective her older brother was of her. She was glad she had decided to make him something nice for the holidays.

  “You’ve been working hard, sis. Abigail told me in town that she saw you and Stanley talking at the mercantile last week. Anything I should know about?” Jake asked like it was the simplest thing in the world to answer.

  “Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Emma’s feelings vacillated. She wanted to be honest but feared the repercussions if she told him everything. She didn’t want to tell her brother about Abigail’s snooty comments or Stanley’s creepy remarks.

  “I heard Abigail flirting with Stanley.” Jake’s face turned into a thunderous cloud of angry emotion. “She told me you were doing the same, with Stanley and with Frederick. Try as I might, I can’t make myself believe that.”

  “What? That’s not true, Jake. You know I’m not like that!” Emma gasped and clutched handfuls of her skirt in her fists.

  “I know it isn’t true, but I don’t take kindly to folks referring to my sister that way. I don’t want Stanley getting any funny ideas. It’s bad enough I had to protect Mama from a monster of a stepfather. I don’t wish to do the same for you!”

  “I’ll take extra care to mind my manners,” Emma said.

  “And stay away from Stanley,” Jake ordered. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Yes, Jake,” Emma conceded. God forbid, what if Stanley watched her when nobody was around? Would he attack her or something awful like that?

  Indignation rose within her. No, she would not allow herself to suffer the way her mother had. She’d defend herself if any man attacked her, and she didn’t care if it meant her brother’s job or not. After what had happened to their mother, she was sure Jake would feel the same way.

  “Morning, E.V.” Frederick climbed down from Inferno quite happy about his new raise from the boss. Soon he’d have his father’s house out of foreclosure. If only he could buy Emma something girlie and nice to show her how much he cared for her.

  “Morning,” E.V. replied, pulling on his work gloves.

  Frederick met E.V. at the end of the first flatbed. “Is that a bunch of ladies’ bonnets in your office I saw the other day?”

  “Yep.” While his tone had E.V.’s normal good-natured optimism, the sadness that momentarily flickered in his brown eyes dampened Frederick’s mood. “I need to return them to their rightful owner.”

  “Are they Larkin’s?”

  “I seem to have a knack for finding them around town.”

  “I take it your efforts with Miss Whitworth haven’t produced any positive results?”r />
  “Not yet.” E.V. grabbed the end of a log and then paused. “Fred, if something’s truly important to you, you don’t give up, no matter what the obstacle is. Now let’s get this timber unloaded. I’ve got paperwork to do.”

  Frederick grabbed the end of the log and lifted. The temptation to spend his raise on Emma clawed at his heart. Maybe he could find something little to let her know how he felt.

  Once the train was unloaded, Frederick headed into town. The little money he had jingled in his pocket.

  Inside the mercantile, he found a multitude of things any woman would fancy. Then his eyes fell on a spool of ivory-colored eyelet lace.

  “Miss Pearson gazed at that same lace just the other day.” The store clerk nodded toward Frederick.

  “I bet this would go perfect with one of her dresses.” One yard cost a fraction of what a new bonnet did. Frederick could hardly wait to give it to her.

  He paid for his find. Once the lace was wrapped, he hurried back to the train.

  Careful to not get the wrapping dirty, Frederick placed the package in the corner on the floor, out of the way of the furnace’s soot and grime.

  He stoked the furnace as full as he dared. He was in a hurry to see the look on Emma’s face when he gave her the lace. In hardly any time, Inferno chugged up the hillside. Widow’s Bend came and went. No trouble there, but then a mess of deer grazing on the tracks caught his eye. He pulled on the whistle, but the stubborn animals remained on the tracks and simply stared at him with their noses in the air.

  “Come on, move it!” Frederick bellowed. Frustration mounting, he yanked on the whistle one last time.

  Chapter 7

  Emma was just finishing hanging the clean sheets on the line when a call went out for the company’s doctor. Frederick Corrigan was hurt. Again.