Brilliant in Boston

by Lynn Donovan

  “Ebony?” Dorothy looked from the boy to Aidan. “Oh, dear me, you’ve named the creature?”

  “Sure. Why not? She seems to be a common occurrence around here. Might as well give her a name.”

  Dorothy pursed her lips. “I see.”

  Gavin traipsed off with a piece of shingling to mend the opening, while Aidan went down into the root cellar and came out with a burlap bag. He propped open the front door of the schoolhouse and laid a trail of the crab apples on the porch, leading out into the yard. Dorothy stayed back and watched. In no time, Ebony’s shiny little black nose poked out of the door, wiggling to beat the band to sniff at the cherry-size apples. Dorothy hid behind a tree and watched the little striped cat.

  Ebony sat up on her hind legs and took the apple in her front paws, munching on the treat, then moved to the next. Gradually she made her way into the yard and Aidan, who had stayed behind the opened door, closed the door and watched the skunk scurry off into the forest.

  “My hero!” Dorothy squealed and rushed up to Aidan.

  He smiled and ran his hand through his hair, as if he was embarrassed. “Well, I—”

  “Dinner!” Turtle Dove called from the kitchen door as she rang the triangle that hung from the corner eave. Everyone all over the grounds came from all directions like a bunch of worker ants returning home. Women carried covered dishes as they walked toward the Big House, men came from up the mountain. Were they just returning from the copper mine? They stopped at a water trough and washed up before coming into the Big House.

  Dorothy realized the dinner was indeed a community meal where everyone brought something as a contribution. A huge ham had been baked in the smoke house and was being toted in on a small hand wagon.

  She turned to Aidan, “I guess I should open the windows to air the room out. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The dishes were brought to the long group of tables that were set up on the side of the house. Everyone took a seat on the benches. Water and milk were distributed among the adults and children alike. Sliced bread was passed down both sides, and plates were passed and filled where everyone got a little portion of everything.

  “Do you do this for every evening meal, or just special occasions?” Dorothy asked Aidan.

  “Today’s a special day for your homecoming, but we break bread like this every Sunday for sure.”

  She nodded. The idea was a pleasant one and certainly gave her a chance to get to know everybody who lived here in the mining camp.

  The additional people were introduced to Dorothy. She wrote the children’s names down in her journal and asked each their age. She would add them to the desk signs before bed.

  It was a symbiosis Dorothy had never experienced and she could not wait to write her father to tell him about it. Everyone bowed their heads in prayer. Aidan led in saying grace and then the meal was consumed. There were a few elbows jabbed into sides, but for the most part the children behaved beautifully.

  Had they studied the household acts textbook about table etiquette? The Lovelorn was right about reading that book. It did help Dorothy understand what was expected. Would tomorrow’s classroom go this smoothly?

  

  Theodore Binks spied a horse and buggy approaching the rail workers. He stepped back from his men who had gathered their ammunition and were ready to ride with him. Who would he have to deal with now?

  “Whoa!” the man in the buggy reined his horse to a halt and stepped down from the fancy jitney. “Are you Mister Theodore Binks?”

  Binks continued to cradle his rifle over his elbow and walked to the man. “Yes. And you are…?”

  The man shoved his hand toward Binks. “I’m Roderick Houndsman, an investor. If you’d be willing to give me a few minutes of your time, I’d like to discuss an idea I have that will benefit your project here.”

  Binks glared at Houndsman, not taking his hand for the customary greeting. “Really? We already have a financier from Michigan helping with funding, how do you propose to do better?”

  “Ah.” Mr. Houndsman smiled. “Yes. I know your benefactor and his method of raising money through selling bonds. It’s a good method and I’m aware how he has helped our nation recover from a devastating depression, but I’ve got some ideas of my own, and would like to share them with you.”

  “Hmm.” Binks considered the man’s offer. He turned his gaze to the plains where the Indians had been cleaning their kill. They had taken their buffalo carcasses and were gone.

  Returning his attention to Mr. Houndsman who still held his hand out for a shake. This northwestern railway was an expensive project, which had already been stalled several times over the past ten years. If Binks could claim to have found additional funding to complete its construction, it would be helpful to him to prove to the NP Railroad President that employing Binks was beneficial to the railroad company. He reached out and shook Mr. Houndsman’s hand. “I’m always interested in money making ideas.”

  “Good.” Houndsman handed Binks a card. “Come to my home this evening and we’ll discuss it.”

  Binks looked out at his men who were still working and those who were waiting for him to mount his horse. “I’ll be there.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Houndsman shook his hand again and returned to his buggy.

  Binks watched him drive away, then glanced at the plains where blood darkened the ground from the buffalo slaughter. The remaining herd had settled at the base of a mesa further away from where the railway was being built. No matter what Houndsman’s idea was, the sacred hunting claim needed to be dealt with first. He knew what he needed to do. “Let’s go.”

  The three men mounted their horses and rode out toward the grazing buffalo herd. Binks dismounted behind the mesa and motioned for his men to follow him to peek over the ridge. The buffalo grazed peacefully. Binks turned to his men. “I want to eliminate this problem.” He stood and aimed his rifle at the herd. He men followed his lead and aimed their rifles too. Binks shot a buffalo and his men each shot one, the other animals jumped and began to run, but Binks cocked his rifle and shot again. In short order the entire herd lay dead.

  Binks and his men roped the dead carcasses by the back feet and dragged them into a pile. Binks gathered dead wood and piled it on top of the animals. He took two lanterns and poured the kerosene over the wood and lit it on fire. They watched it burn for an hour then rode back to where the men were finishing a section and preparing to move down another length.

  “All right.” Binks yelled at the workers. “We’ve taken care of the sacred hunting ground problem.” He tossed his head back and laughed from his belly.

  The men looked across the plain toward the pillar of dark smoke behind the mesa. Some men just stared, others laughed too. One man slung his hammer over his shoulder and walked toward Binks. “You burn them buffalo, boss?”

  “Yeah, we shot ‘em and burned ‘em to a pile of ash. Them Indians won’t have no excuse to renege on their treaty. I made a promise to the President of this Northern Pacific Railroad, and I aim to keep it. This land was designated for this railway fair and square. No heathen Indians are gonna stop me from getting this line built.”

  The man nodded with a frown. “Well, that’s one way to take care of the problem.” He returned to his spot on the rail-line.

  “It’s nearly sundown, let’s shut down for the night. I’ve got a business meeting this evening. We’ll get started again first light tomorrow.”

  “All right, boss.” The men chanted as they put away their tools and supplies and headed toward town.

  Binks rode into town for a shower and change of clothes before his meeting with Houndsman. He had a feeling this was going to be a very beneficial meeting.

  Chapter Six

  

  “Ah, Binks.” Roderick Houndsman answered his front door. “Come in my good man.”

  Binks had cleaned up and changed into a fresh suit. Roderick led the way into the parlor where his wife and daughter were wai
ting. “Theodore Binks, with the Northern Pacific Railroad Company, this is my wife, Leticia.”

  Binks dipped his head. “Ma’am.”

  Roderick continued. “And my daughter, Ginger.”

  Binks’s eyes widened. “Miss Houndsman, it’s my pleasure.” He reached out to take Ginger’s hand and kissed the back of her knuckle.

  Roderick lifted one brow, impressed with his daughter’s blushing cheeks. This was the first time he’d witnessed her embarrassment meeting a stranger.

  Leticia lifted a bell and shook it. “Tea will be served in a moment, Mr. Binks. Please take a seat.”

  Roderick nodded. “Yes. Do take a seat.”

  After Theodore sat, Roderick sat next to his wife. Glancing at his daughter, he noticed she and Binks were exchanging glimpses. Hmmm. An additional idea began to stir in Roderick’s mind. This investment may work out better than he had originally thought. “So, how is the work going out on the plains?”

  Binks met Rodericks’s gaze. “The work is coming along well, sir. Occasionally we have some trouble from the Indians, but today I think I came up with a solution and they should be less of a problem.”

  The maid brought the tea and Leticia served Mr. Binks, then Roderick, Ginger, and herself last. Ginger took a sip from her cup and placed it in the saucer. “Um, what trouble are the Indians causing?”

  Binks’s eyes darted to Roderick, as if to ask permission to reply to his daughter. Roderick gave Binks a slight nod of approval. “Well, Miss Houndsman, I’m sure you are aware the government signed treaties with the Indians several years ago, but due to delays in getting this railway built, the Indians have continued to use this land for hunting. Perhaps they forgot or just didn’t understand, I’m not sure which, but they continue to hunt the buffalo and interfere with my workers laying tracks.”

  Ginger nodded and took another sip of tea. “So… today, what solution did you come up with?”

  Binks smiled. “Oh, I had a chat with an elder tribesman, and reminded them that we now own the land. They had already taken down several buffalo, so I let them complete their field dressing and take them back to their village.”

  “How kind of you.” Ginger sipped her tea, a slight smile twitched on her lips.

  Roderick observed Binks telling his tale. He appreciated the delicacy in which he told his daughter about the encounter. He knew there was more to the story and it was probably more gruesome than what he revealed. “Well, I’m glad to hear you resolved the conflict peacefully.”

  Binks turned to Roderick. “Yes. I’d rather build this railroad peacefully, then to start up another war with the Indians. Isn’t that why we signed treaties, to eliminate any more bloodshed?”

  “Truer words have not been spoken.” Roderick nodded.

  “Yes sir.” Binks sipped his tea.

  “So, I have some ideas that I believe will make your progress with the northwestern build easier and more efficient. Plus, I believe this idea will help you bring this project in under budget, which is always a good thing to have on your record.”

  Binks scooted to the edge of his chair and set his teacup and saucer on the small table. “I’d be very interested in hearing your idea, Mr. Houndsman.”

  “Well, good. Let’s go into my den and have a brandy.”

  “Certainly.” Binks stood, dipping his head toward the ladies before following Roderick into his den.

  Roderick poured two brandies and sat behind his desk. Binks sat in a leather, high back chair facing Roderick’s desk.

  “All right.” Roderick set his brandy on the desk. “I am an investor. My living is derived from investing money in projects and reaping an equal portion of the profits. To date, I have been very successful with this method of earnings.”

  Binks nodded and sipped his brandy. “I was not aware you did that, Mr. Houndsman. How does this relate to Northern Pacific Railroad laying tracks?”

  Roderick smiled. “I’m aware you have been put in charge of this building project across Montana on a probationary basis. When you get a hundred and fifty more miles to the west, you’re going to encounter extremely rough terrain. But… if you would be willing to partner with me on a project that I have invested in, the Oregon and Transcontinental Company, and join your tracks to the OR&N build through Bozeman Pass, it would save your company several thousands of dollars and yet your rail-line will still progress westward to Helena. You can continue to build the rail-lines past that point until you get to the O’Keefe Canyon. Then we connect again with another investment I have with an engineering outfit who has a very impressive plan for a trestle bridge that will stretch about two thousand feet long and around two-hundred-and-fifty feet high. There will be other areas that I have already made connections for engineering feats to bring this railway all the way to Puget Sound at the Pacific Ocean.”

  He sipped his brandy and continued. “As I understand it, that is the Northern Pacific’s end plan, is it not?”

  Binks nodded.

  Roderick smiled. “By joining your build with these existing rail-lines, you will come in under budget and I’m certain you will impress the men you work for. That will help you to insure additional opportunities for well paying positions and, if I read you correctly in my parlor, it would insure your ability to offer my daughter a sound future.”

  Binks’s eyes widened but he remained silent.

  Roderick hesitated. “I did read you correctly, didn’t I? You have an interest in my daughter?”

  Binks swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be vulgar, sir. But your daughter is a beautiful woman and she did catch my eye. So, you’re offering me a partnership with you to link up with railway builds that are already planned, and a chance to court your daughter with the possibility of becoming your son-in-law?”

  Roderick lifted his brandy. “Here’s to profitable possibilities.”

  Binks pursed his lips with a nod and lifted his snifter. “To profitable possibilities.”

  They touched their glasses with a clink and drank down the libation.

  Binks smacked his lips. “Will you tell your daughter, or shall I?”

  Roderick smiled. “I’ll mention you expressed an interest in her hand and you can come to call on her in a day or two. The rest of the courting will be up to you. However, we can finalize our working partnership tomorrow at my office downtown. I’ll have papers drawn up for you to sign, Say three o’clock?”

  “Three o’clock sounds good to me.”

  Roderick walked around his desk and shook Binks’s hand. “Tomorrow at three.” He put his arm around Binks’s shoulder. “Will you stay for Supper?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  “Very good. Let’s re-join the ladies and I’ll inform Cook to set one more place.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Houndsman.”

  “Nah, now with all the things we are about to engage in, you should call me Roderick.”

  “Fine. Roderick it is, and you can call me Theodore.”

  Roderick grinned as he guided Theodore into the parlor. “Sweetheart,” he addressed his wife. “Theodore will be joining us for supper, could you let Cook know?”

  “Of course.” Leticia left the parlor.

  “Honey,” Roderick turned to Ginger. “Would you pour our guest another cup of tea?”

  Ginger blushed again. “My pleasure.”

  

  Aidan walked Dorothy to her apartment after the meal. She entered through the back door and bid him goodnight.

  He hesitated before walking away. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, Dorothy.”

  “Oh, dear me. I seem to have all I need. But I’ll speak up if anything is lacking.”

  “Good.” He checked her pot belly stove and added a piece of wood to the fire. “You’ll be warm enough?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “All right. You let me know—”

  “Aidan. I will let you know. I’m fine.”

  He smiled and ran his hand through his hair. �
�I just don’t want you to be scared out here alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I seem to have little Ebony guarding my building.” Dorothy laughed.

  “FIRE!” A man’s voice screeched across the wooded area.

  Aidan and Dorothy ran out of her apartment, looking for where the voice came from. A pillar of smoke rose in the distance. Aidan echoed the warning. “FIRE! The Indian grounds looks to be on fire!”

  Men came out of cabins, women ran after them, everyone moved toward where the fire appeared to be. It was in the direction of the creek, past the mining cabins.

  Turtle Dove ran into the yard. “Oh no! It’s the clansmen!”

  Drake jumped on a horse, bareback, and rode toward his wife. He reached down and took her hand, swung her onto the horse’s back behind him, and galloped toward the fire. People from the mining camp ran after them on foot.

  Hide-wrapped houses that looked like upsidedown cones were lit up with flames along with the contents. The people stood in the dark, crying, watching the fire consume their belongings.

  Turtle Dove and Drake had beat everyone there. Turtle Dove stood with the families, holding a woman in her arms. Were these her relatives? Aidan and the miners ran into the camp and yanked down the hides, trying to put out the fires. But it was too late.

  “What happened?” Dorothy asked Turtle Dove.

  She spoke in her native tongue to an older woman who muttered a reply, then turned to Dorothy. “Mother Bear says a shadow slipped into their camp while they were sleeping and set the teepees on fire. Mother Bear saw the shadow cross over her door-flap.” She drew in a ragged breath. “Brown Bear was the look-out, but… he is dead. The shadow man snuck up on him and slit his throat. Now, our people have nowhere to rest.”

  “We have room at the Orchid camp, don’t we?” Dorothy asked Turtle Dove. “In the barn, or… the schoolhouse. We could move the desks and put down bedrolls.”

  Turtle Dove looked hard at Dorothy. “Yes.” She turned back to her sister. “We can put you up in the barn until more hides can be made for your homes.” She walked with the cluster of women to where Aidan stood. Turtle Dove spoke to Aidan in her native tongue and then in English. “Aidan, they have no where to go. Your wife offered the barn for refuge until they can prepare today’s buffalo hides and make more teepees.”