In the Shadow of the Mountains

by Rosanne Bittner

  Anna smiled bashfully. “Then that is where I will put it,” she said. “I want to give Ramon many—” She carefully laid the crucifix back in the box, embarrassed to finish the statement. She missed him, couldn’t wait until he was home again. Ramon had shown her a whole new, wonderful world—the world of womanhood and gentle loving. She felt honored to be married to the successful builder Ramon Vallejo, who had shown Denver the worth of its Mexican race. She met Irene’s eyes. “He truly is the most wonderful man. I sometimes think perhaps I am dreaming that he is my husband.”

  Irene blinked back tears. “It’s no dream. Do you…do you think Ramon will like the crucifix?”

  “Of course he will. He will be very touched, especially since it is from you. I love him, Señora Jacobs. But still I am sorry about the unhappiness you have suffered. Ramon is hoping the baby has helped. He has not seen you since it was born.”

  “You can tell him the baby has made me very happy, as happy as I can expect to be. I’m taking some time off to be with my little David, so Ramon won’t see much of me the next few months, but I will be meeting with the committee again in another six weeks or so. I’ll go to night meetings, but I won’t be putting in full days at the office for quite some time. Just tell him I’m going to be all right. He’ll understand.”

  “Sí, I will tell him. And I am glad for you. Would you like to stay and talk? I can make us some tea.”

  “No. I don’t like leaving my little David for too long. I just wanted to bring you the wedding gift.”

  “It is so good of you. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We will both treasure it. It is a most generous gift.”

  “Nothing is too generous for Ramon and his new wife. It is Ramon who has been the generous one all these years, generous with his love and patience and his kind understanding.” Her throat suddenly ached, and a tear slipped unexpectedly down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away. “Take good care of him, Anna.”

  “I will. I love him very much. I am honored to be his wife.”

  “Yes. It is an honor.” Irene leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Vaya con Dios, Anna.” She turned and hurried out the door.

  “Vaya con Dios,” Anna called after her. She watched Irene run through the rain and climb into the carriage, which quickly clattered away. She looked down at the crucifix, amazed at the utterly beautiful, expensive gift.

  Yes, Irene Jacobs surely did love her Ramon, but Anna did not feel threatened. She had seen the truth and honor in Irene’s eyes, and she trusted her Ramon. She almost felt sad for both of them. She would try very hard to make it up to Ramon by being a good wife, and she prayed that already his life was growing in her belly. She touched the crucifix. It would seem strange to hang it over their bed, this gift from the gringa Ramon had loved.

  Inside the closed carriage Irene wept. She had a baby now, a marriage to try to rebuild. There could never be a Ramon in her life. She had made an agreement with Chad. Perhaps it was time to adhere to her part of the bargain. Maybe, somehow, she could bear it. He had treated her better than he had since that brief period when she was so happy before the first baby. He played with David, seemed to love the boy, believed he was his. Now it was her turn. She had to face reality, and Chad was right. If she was sincere about making the marriage work, she couldn’t put him off forever.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Like the true survivors Denver’s founders were, they struggled through the panic of ’73, when overproduction of goods across the country, feverish speculation, and government corruption created a drop in prices that put many companies out of business and played havoc with the stock market. New silver discoveries helped boost the economy, and Kirkland silver mines began to support K-E’s basic financial structure in as important a manner as the gold mines had.

  President Grant’s term of service proved a boon for all sorts of crooked dealing, and big businesses began gobbling up little businesses, creating vast monopolies. Bea Kirkland took no exception to the now-established rule that it was perfectly fine to grease the palms of Territorial representatives and congressmen to urge them to support tax laws that benefited bigger companies; and she folded some parts of K-E into huge trusts, melding with other companies in the areas of manufacturing, loan companies, and municipal utilities to create a stronghold in all areas, forming a central board of trustees in charge of securities, and power.

  The newspapers screamed with headlines of government corruption, the Democrats claiming it was time for a change in the administration that was on its way to bankrupting the nation. It was discovered that the government had been defrauded of millions of dollars in taxes by what was being called a “whiskey ring,” centered in St. Louis, instigated by treasury officials and the president’s own private secretary. The Indians, most of them on reservations, were becoming the victims of unscrupulous agents who sold most government supplies for profit and left the intended recipients cold and hungry. Graft penetrated nearly every area of government, even the navy.

  Bea’s main concern was that K-E remain strong. She complained about government corruption, while thinking nothing of doing her own bribing. The warehousing and supply branch of K-E grew into one of the company’s biggest supports, now that the Union Pacific went all the way to San Francisco and had a Denver connection. The Kansas Pacific had also made its way into Denver, and the still-growing Denver and Rio Grande Railroad reached all the way south to Colorado Springs and Pueblo, with a branch into the mountains to Canon City. With Chad’s help, Bea wined and dined and bribed the proper railroad officials into keeping K-E freight rates lower than their competitors, helping widen K-E’s monopoly in the supply business.

  Denver now had two Catholic churches, several Protestant churches, and even a Jewish synagogue. Still, saloons continued to predominate, outnumbering churches by six to one. But Denverites were proud of their growing city, which now had several doctors and dentists, and an abundance of shops, restaurants, banks, and hotels, as well as several schools. Immigrants continued to swarm into Denver, hearing of its promises for a chance for a better life and equal opportunity. People came by the thousands, seeking new dreams—to farm, to open a new business, or to practice their trade. Many were disappointed and left, but many more stayed, realizing at least a modest income and something better than what they had left behind.

  But there remained an elite network of powerful founders who held themselves above the middle and lower class, called by some the Sacred 36 and comprised of white Protestant men. Bea Kirkland was the exception, an anomaly in the world of big business and the topic of many conversations among her counterparts. David Kirkland and Chad Jacobs were the male representatives of K-E, but everyone knew who made the decisions they brought to the board rooms.

  Denver citizens, indeed most Americans, overlooked the corruption of those in power, deciding it was a necessary evil in the name of progress. By 1872 the Water Company was pumping filtered water from the South Platte into Denver residences and businesses, although most homes still used well water. Other water projects had proved expensive and were still being explored. Trolley cars and railroads took people and goods to their destinations; gas lit and heated homes; buildings were rising higher. Sitting in the middle of a vast, open, endless plain, Denver began to rise out of the desert like an oasis, the true Queen City of the West. The time had come to bring up again a vote for statehood.

  April 1874

  Irene moved through the crowded room, searching for Ramon. Everyone who was anyone was here tonight, not only Denver’s backers, but important dignitaries from other Colorado cities and from the various railroad companies and utilities, as well as mining representatives, cattlemen, and guests from Washington. Food and drinks were furnished by the Kirklands, owners of the Denver Inn, where the kickoff meeting for statehood was being held. Speeches had been made, a state flag proposed, a fine dinner served. Now it was time to mingle, butter up the right people.

  Irene thought how fake everyone see
med, smiling, laughing, wooing. Chad was the supreme expert, laughing and talking with a congressman. He called her over, and she obliged, wanting statehood as much as her mother did but still not caring for some of Bea’s methods. She suspected Bea and Chad both were still making deals behind her back, but she had become so involved with her work for the poor, as well as devoting time to her son, that she had again lost touch with the basic economics of K-E. When David got just a little older, she was determined to become more involved with the decision-making of the company.

  Chad sported his most winning smile, slipping an arm around Irene and introducing her to Jay Gould, the famous, if somewhat notorious, railroad magnate. Irene joined in the conversation, her natural beauty and sincerity charming everyone she met. Others gossiped about the strikingly handsome couple Chad and Irene presented. Irene was growing used to being watched by the public.

  They talked about statehood for Colorado, and all the time Chad kept a firm arm around Irene. He had played the happy husband and father for three years now, and Irene had managed to derive some little bit of pleasure in their bed, only because she knew she had to learn to love her husband all over again or go crazy. Chad remained attentive and considerate, but Irene knew deep inside he was incapable of total love and devotion. She was doomed to make the best of her marriage, and she deliberately forced back her suspicions of his continued infidelities, for little David’s sake. The boy was more than three years old now, and he bore little resemblance to Hank, with Irene’s coloring and many of her features. Chad seemed to have accepted the child, showing no resentment or animosity, teasing him, playing with him, but he never hugged the boy. She had learned that her husband was simply incapable of tender, genuine love, perhaps because he had not been loved as a child. She loved David all that much more, showing him plenty of affection to make up for what his father could not give him. Chad was at least attentive and patient with him.

  Talk turned to the railroad and Gould’s clout in Washington, how he could help swing votes that would benefit Colorado once it became a state. Chad talked easily with the man, and Irene thought how sad it was that he was so wonderfully charming and likeable on the outside, but so empty on the inside.

  Glasses tinkled and people laughed, some turning to stare at the “lucky” Mrs. Chad Jacobs, who not only had a most handsome husband, but who was a beauty herself. She wore a mint green satin straight-line dress, with a fitted waist and a slight bustle in the back. The skirt was gathered into tufts that draped down the back, meeting in a huge bow below her knees, with a short train gliding out from under the bow. Ruffles spilled down the front of the skirt, and the dropped waist and fitted bodice accented her still-slim, curved figure, the open, square neckline showing just a hint of her lovely bosom, mint green lace forming a delicate border around the neckline and the ends of her three-quarter-length sleeves.

  People gossiped about what a stark contrast Irene presented to her younger sister, Elly, who paraded through the crowd in a dark blue taffeta dress, designed much like Irene’s, which was the latest fashion, but looking nowhere near as pretty because of the stocky young woman who filled it. The neckline, to Bea’s outrage, was cut much lower than Irene’s, displaying a good portion of Elly’s generous bosom.

  Elly moved through the crowd, a proud representative of K-E who had demanded that her mother let her take over some facets of the company, and who had already lost a woman’s millinery store because of overspending and poor bookkeeping. Bea was upset with Elly’s carelessness, and that she was seeing too many men. “You should settle down, get married, act like a proper lady,” Bea had often fumed, to Elly’s delight.

  Twenty-four-year-old Elly was not about to be told what she could and could not do. She glanced at Chad, who looked at her in return, his eyes running over her. Yes, he would meet her later tonight inside her personal carriage as planned. Her blood rushed at the thought of it. It had been weeks since she had been with Chad. She had tried to make up for her need of him through the other men she dated, enjoyed the power she had over them just by being a woman with money; her many affairs made her feel beautiful and wanted, and best of all, they upset her mother.

  She spotted Red McKinley then, watched him as he talked with William Palmer, founder of the Denver and Rio Grande. Red was an important man now in Denver, and she thought how her mother detested the man. She took a glass of wine from a tray a waitress offered, and strolled in Red’s direction.

  “Hello, Mr. McKinley,” she purred. “And it’s so nice to see you here, General Palmer.”

  Palmer nodded a hello. “Your family has been generous, furnishing all this fine food and drink, as well as these facilities,” the man told her. “I think I’ll go find your mother and thank her. It’s too bad Kirk can’t be here.”

  “Oh, you know Father, always roaming around in the mountains sniffing out more gold and silver,” she answered with a sly smile, glancing at Red. “Mr. McKinley knows my father very well. He used to hunt and trap with him in what Father calls the ‘old days,’ didn’t you, Red?”

  Red watched her eyes. The girl was up to something. She was so much like her mother, but perhaps more vicious. “That I did,” he answered.

  “Well, we’ll have to talk about those exciting times, Red,” Palmer told him.

  The man left, and Elly gave Red McKinley her most seductive look, one an experienced man like himself did not misread. He thought how closely it resembled the looks the whores gave prospective customers who passed the doorways of their brothels. How unlike Irene this one was.

  “And what brings you over here to talk to someone your mother despises?” he asked, letting his eyes rest on her abundant bosom for a moment. She might be Kirk’s daughter, but she was young and certainly no innocent.

  Elly took his hand, squeezing it lightly, glancing through the crowd to see Palmer talking to her mother. Bea looked in their direction, instant consternation coming into her dark eyes. Elly instantly smiled at Red, keeping hold of his hand. “It’s precisely because my mother despises you that I intend to befriend you,” she answered. “I’ve discovered some of the things my dear mother did to you, and I happen to be very sorry about it.”

  Red laughed heartily. “You don’t really expect me to believe that now, Miss Kirkland, do you? You’re talking to a seasoned old man.”

  She smiled wickedly. “I’m talking to a very handsome, gentlemanly ‘older’ man, but not old. You’re just like my father, Red—still as strong and virile as you were in those old days you talk about.”

  He shook a finger at her, giving her a wink, enjoying the flirtations. “You’re up to something, young lady.”

  She kept hold of his hand as a twelve-piece orchestra struck up a waltz. “I’m up to dancing. Will you dance with me?”

  “Well, I’m accustomed to doing the asking, but I’m not going to turn down an offer from a pretty young lady.” He moved out onto the dance floor with her, thinking how she wasn’t pretty at all, but she was indeed young. A few more years difference, and he could be her grandfather. Still, he was only fifty-one, and by God, he was still strong and virile. There was no mistaking this replica of Bea Kirkland was as capable of deceit as her mother, but in a strange way she was fun, excitingly dangerous.

  “Now, isn’t this just delicious,” she said, moving a hand to caress his neck while they moved around the floor. “Mother is watching, and she’s beside herself.”

  Red chuckled. “I have to admit I enjoy getting her dander up.”

  “That was pretty obvious when I read about that dirty trick you played on the whole city of Denver over the railroad. I really wish I could have been there to see Mother’s face. But, alas, I was away at finishing school in Chicago. I missed all the fun.”

  Red drank in her full bosom again, and Elly tingled with the excitement she always felt at the thought of bedding a new man. “Well, it was something to see, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I’ll bet it was.” She toyed with the hair at the back
of his neck, thinking how easy it was to manipulate men. “I’ve never known anyone with such red hair.” She looked down at his chest and farther down, then met his eyes again suggestively. “Is it that red all over—your arms and chest, I mean?”

  He watched her eyes. Yes, this one was well seasoned. In spite of who she was, he could not help a base attraction to the sultry seductress. He reddened a little, sobering, pulling her a little closer, thinking how furious her mother would be if Red McKinley started seeing her daughter. “Yes,” he answered, holding her eyes. “It’s red…all over.”

  She smiled, wetting her lips with her tongue. “Tell me, Red, did you know my mother and father back when they first got married?”

  He frowned. “No. I saw Kirk back in, oh, forty-six, it was, just a few weeks before he met and married your mother, so I never knew her then.”

  “Forty-six? You must remember it wrong.”

  “Oh, no. I have a good memory for dates.”

  She continued to rub at his neck, her mind racing with a new wonder. There had always been something different about Irene, something strange about her parents’ beginnings, the way Irene was so different from her and John. “But you must be wrong,” she insisted. “Irene was born in forty-six. Mother always told us she and Father married in forty-five.”

  She felt him stiffen slightly. Red watched her slyly, realizing his error. This one was clever, and he had a feeling she had no lost love for her sister. He realized immediately he had made a serious mistake. “Well, I guess maybe you’re right at that,” he told Elly. “A man gets to be my age, he gets a little forgetful. We’re talking about something that happened twenty-eight or twenty-nine years ago. That’s a long time to remember.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.” She moved daringly close to him. “You’ll have to tell me about those old days sometime, Red. I’ll bet your version is different from Father’s. Why don’t you meet me here tomorrow evening for a quiet meal? It’s hard to talk in such a big crowd, and I have to ‘mingle,’ as Mother puts it.”