by Jenna Kernan
“Perhaps he didn’t know you.”
“I told him who I was. I called him by name, but he just kept scooting away.” Sam’s eyelids now became a damn, holding back a rising river of water.
Kate set her plate aside and rested a bare hand on his knee. His shoulders hunched.
“What, Sam?”
“He told me to go back where I come from, like I was some stray dog trying to follow him home. Finally, I had to grab him. Do you know what he did?” The damn broke and Sam turned aside to dash away the hot tears. His voice changed, growing strained. “He started yelling.”
Her small hand squeezed his knee. “Oh, Sam, how terrible. What did you do?”
He kept his gaze on the window, but he didn’t really see the landscape flashing by. Instead, he saw a narrow road in a small town on a big river, far away and long ago. “I just let go and he ran away. I followed him and he kept looking back. He lived in a big clapboard house with a yellow barn and geese that swam in a pond beside the milk house. He had a brown dog with a litter of little pups and he had a mom and dad.
“His mom had dark hair and she met him on the porch. She put an arm on his shoulder and then sort of steered him inside. She never saw me.”
Kate rubbed his back, suddenly understanding why he never stayed with any woman for long. Why he never settled down like other men in his position. He wasn’t willing to take the chance on losing anyone else. But none of that was his fault. Unlike her, he was blameless. She grimaced. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry they didn’t take you, too.”
“It was a real big house. When the nuns said they didn’t have room for me, I figured they lived over a store. I told them that I’d sleep by the stove. I was just a dumb kid. I didn’t understand.” He swiped his cheek again and then wiped his hand on his pant leg. “They had room. They just didn’t want a foulmouthed ruffian who was raised by…”
She glanced at him. His head hung in shame. She assumed the worse.
Kate rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you go back to the orphanage?”
“No. I never did. I took one of the pups and set off on my own. But the dog was too young to be away from its mom and it died. I never should have taken it.”
They sat in silence for a while, Kate rhythmically stroking his arm and the low rumble of the train filling the void.
“I thought he’d want to come with me—that he’d be waiting, that he needed me, like your sister needs you. But he was afraid he’d lose his new family. So I let him go.”
“Would you have wanted him to go with you?”
Sam shook his head. “He was better off. It’s what I meant about doing what’s best for them.”
“But now you must find him. He’ll be wondering about you, carrying a burden of guilt for sending you away. That’s a millstone no child should carry. And only you can relieve him of it.”
“You think he’d want to see me after all this time?”
“Oh, Sam, I know it. You’re so lucky, because you can still make this right, you still have a chance.” She thought of her own millstone, the one she could never put down.
She felt her eyes grow hot. He lifted her chin with one finger. “You crying?”
“I lost someone, too—my baby sister. But she is gone forever because of me.” There, she had said it aloud. The secret shame she carried each day had been spoken.
“What?”
She drew away from him, sitting stiff and brittle as an unfired pot.
“Her name was Rose. She was six months old and had just learned to crawl.”
She glanced at Sam, but he said nothing, just sat waiting. Her voice became a low whisper as if this secret could not be spoken aloud.
“I got sick first, just a little fever, nothing really. My mom got it next and then the baby.” Kate could barely speak now, past the tears choking her. “It was diphtheria. I gave it to them, all of them. It killed the baby and…” Kate pressed a hand to her forehead as the guilt bubbled up again to consume her. “Phoebe lost her sight.” She looked at Sam, exposed and raw with grief. “And it’s my fault, Sam, all of it.”
Sam gathered her up in his arms. “Oh, no.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead and rocked her as she clung to him like ivy on a garden wall.
“It’s not, Katie.”
But it was. She knew it. That’s why she had never spoken of her guilt before. Not even to her mother. She knew she would have said something just like this. But it didn’t make it better. The remorse still chewed at her. How did one make amends for such at terrible wrong? The answer came to her as it always did. She couldn’t—not ever.
“Do you know what this means?” asked Sam. “We’re the same inside. I couldn’t keep my family any more than you could keep yours. But you, at least, managed to save a part of it, your sister and aunt.”
The part she hadn’t killed.
He halted the rhythmic stroking and took in her tearstained face.
“I never spoke of this to anyone before and I never thought to meet anyone who could understand. But I think you do, because you lived it. Maybe it wasn’t chance that brought us together in that alley, but something bigger.”
He brushed the tears from her cheeks and she closed her eyes against the earnest, tender expression in his eyes.
His voice was soothing as a balm. “We’ve both got scars, both lost people we loved.” Sam lifted her chin and she opened her eyes. “So we did things different than most folks.” He stroked her cheek.
The engine vibrations changed, and Kate noted that they were slowing down.
“Getting close,” said Sam. “I can’t wait to see what the miners think of you. I sent word ahead to the camps that I’m throwing a party to introduce them to the Union Pacific. Music, dancing, food and free beer. Should be a wild time.”
Kate swallowed back her dread.
For a little while she had felt so attuned to Sam that she had nearly forgotten. But now it came crashing back. He intended to use her, just as her husband had done. Nothing had changed between them.
Chapter Ten
W hen they arrived in Dutch Flats, Kate was pleasantly surprised to see proper warehouses near the tracks and a grid of streets that stretched back five deep. Some of the buildings rose three stories tall and she counted two church steeples. She could hardly believe this was the rough jumble of canvas and mud she recalled.
The train slowed at a new train platform and small depot. Somehow an actual town had sprung up amid the tailing piles.
A crowd had gathered to greet them. Among the waving miners, Kate was thankful to see many properly dressed women.
“Your jaws are flapping open like a trapdoor, Kate. Just what were you expecting?”
“I thought it would be more…rustic.”
“Not anymore. It’s a proper town. I rented the Gold Dust for the shindig. You go change into a fancy dress and put on that necklace I gave you.”
Kate’s stomach gave a lurch.
“It’s okay. I’ll be waiting right outside. All your things are in the next car.”
He left her pale and shaken. Kate hurried to the sleeping compartment but paused upon entering, overwhelmed by the opulence. The bed was large and magnificent with a carved headboard and half canopy draped with velvet curtains. She went to the cherry armoire, opened it and found all her new dresses displayed on wooden hangers without so much as a wrinkle in any of them. She selected the royal-blue satin with the pearl trim.
She unbuttoned her dress and carefully hung it with the others. Then she drew on her bloomers and exchanged the small flexible hoop skirt for the wide stiff set. By the time she had burrowed into the new gown, she recognized two things. One, she would have to fix her hair herself and, two, she could not possibly fasten the back of the dress alone.
Many minutes later she emerged from the car, red faced and panting, with a lace shawl about her shoulders and her hair in some semblance of order.
Sam had finished greeting the men and had s
ent them off to the saloon.
She stood on the steps of the compartment until he turned to notice her. He stopped in midsentence to stare. She found his look of astonishment both flattering and somewhat irritating. Had she looked so shabby in her new green day dress?
He walked away from the two bearded men without a word and then extended his hands to lift her down. She leaned away.
“I can’t come out,” she whispered from behind her fan.
He dropped his hands. “Why not?
“You promised me servants. Had I known I would be dressing myself I would have chosen a far different wardrobe.”
He looked thoroughly confused.
“My dress is not fastened!”
He grinned. “Little overanxious, ain’t you?”
She batted him with the folded fan. “Don’t you dare make jokes. This is a desperate situation. I need help. And since there is no lady’s maid to assist me…”
“Always glad to help a lady.”
She backed up the steps, awkwardly, managing not to tread on her hem. Once inside she lowered her shawl, revealing the row of tiny buttons to him.
“Holy crow. There must be a hundred of them.”
“Please, Sam.”
He lifted his hands to the bottom of the row just at her hips and she felt a slight pull, followed by a chuckle.
“Never buttoned one up before.”
She gasped. “Stop that, you dreadful man. A gentleman would never say such a thing to a lady.”
“Yeah, but this is just us talking.”
She could not keep from smiling at this and was grateful he could not see it. He worked diligently for several minutes as she held her breath to assist him.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
She looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Misaligned. Have to start again.”
Her shoulders drooped and he laughed. The next moment his warm mouth was pressing to the bare skin at her neck. She spun in his arms and he gripped her waist, staring down at her with warm brown eyes.
He looked different, happy perhaps. This was something new, an expression she had not seen before. She liked his gentle teasing.
“Looking forward to doing this again, in reverse, later on.”
She cocked her head and decided to try her hand at teasing him. “Well, I’ll have you know I am wearing bloomers for the occasion.”
“That shouldn’t slow us down much.”
She felt herself actually looking forward to it. She blinked in utter astonishment. When had her feelings toward these intimate deals changed? She glanced at Sam, quite flabbergasted at her realization. He said he would never mistreat her and that had been all she had hoped for. Yet, in fact, he had given her so much more. Anticipation curled inside her and she glanced at the bed.
He grabbed her hand. “Oh no, you don’t. I got half the town waiting to meet you and hear why they can’t live another day without owning a piece of that railroad.”
She smiled as he drew her out of the coach and carefully saw her safely down the steps, before lifting her over the gap between the bottom stair and the platform.
He escorted her through the depot, the single ticket window now closed for the night. They emerged on the opposite side and she had her first close look at the town’s transformation. She stared down a wide dirt street, lined with eateries and saloons. Their followers stood waiting and continued along, giving the town an atmosphere of celebration. The road ran only a hundred yards before dead-ending into another, wider street. The setting sun poured down the wide thoroughfare between the buildings, illuminating everything with a golden glow.
“That’s Main down there. Hotels, the claims office and banks. Lots of shops, of course. Easy to bring goods in now with the railroad. Cheap, too. But there’d be no need if the claims weren’t producing. Miners started it all.”
“I believe the gold started it.”
He smiled. “That’s so. I still have a claim up here, though it never produced much. The saloon is just past the Black Bear Restaurant.” Sam pointed and she turned her attention to the large two story clapboard that dominated the row of buildings. “Shall we walk?”
The street was dry, so she nodded her consent and they set off, arm in arm.
They reached the Gold Dust Saloon to find a large crowd already milling about. Sam stepped in and the group parted like the Red Sea. Kate had never seen anything like it. Men stepped out of his way as he passed, instinctively yielding to Sam. The room grew quiet as folks watched with singular fascination. Of course, Sam would be a hero here. The man whose claim paid out, the success story they all fought for. Their upturned faces glowed with admiration. But it was more than that. Sam was an unusual combination of mass and inertia that made him look more like a bounty hunter than the owner of the richest mine in California. He had a dangerous edge. She’d sensed it instantly and had been as wary as these people. But now that hard edge made Kate feel safe, as if no man would dare try anything with Sam as her protector. She smiled with new confidence as he escorted her to the bar and then recalled how unreasonably jealous Luke had become when men admired her.
Her smile vanished. Why dress her up in such finery if not to draw the attention of other men? Would he expect her to flirt and fawn, as Luke had and later make her pay for it? She had once been in a similar situation, one in which she could not win. And now, it seemed, fate had brought her to the same place again. Suddenly her stomach hurt.
Sam was tall enough not to need a platform to be seen over the heads of the others. She, on the other hand, was quite swallowed up in the gathering. Sam called for a chair and lifted her to stand on the seat. It was unnecessary, as he already had the attention of every man in the room. Kate’s anxiety grew as Sam began his speech.
He was funny, at first, getting the crowd to laugh, and then he turned eloquent as he continued, speaking of the importance of commerce and trade and the safety and reliability of the railroad. He told the miners that the price of goods would drop dramatically if they could be shipped from the East Overland, instead of by steamer and then mule train. He told them that owning a piece of the railroad was owning a piece of history that would be more valuable than gold. Their sweethearts and family would not be more than a two-week ride from their claims and the rail cars would include parlors, where customers could gather to sing and play cards, and sleeper cars with bunks to sleep on at night.
Kate watched him, comparing him to Luke. Her departed husband had been a master at persuasion and he had been artful at closing a deal. But he worked with only three or four men at a time and he had never spoken with the passion Sam expressed. Plus, what Sam said might actually be true, which was never the case with Luke.
Kate listened, spellbound, as he spoke of the wagons struggling to cross through the passes, beaten by snow and at the mercy of the mountains. Something in his voice changed and the room became silent.
Kate wondered if she had misjudged him. Perhaps this was not about money and power, but something more important. No one laughed now or smiled. All the men in the room were caught in the moment, drawn by the force of Sam’s words. When he told them it was the duty of every citizen of California to close that pass to wagons, they believed him. When he finished, there was a moment’s silence, then the room erupted in a roar of approval.
Sam turned to the bartender and ordered two glasses of champagne. He lifted one, offering it to Kate.
“Make a toast, Kate,” he whispered.
She lifted the glass high above her head.
“To the new shareholders of the Union Pacific Railroad,” she called.
Men cheered and stomped their feet.
“If you’d like to be the first to own a piece of this fine venture, my clerk is sitting right by the windows. We’ll accept coin, paper or gold dust. Free drinks to every stockholder in the room.”
Cheers followed and then shouts as men struggled for their place in line.
Sam lifted Kate down. “Now drink up th
at champagne and get over there to sit with my clerk. See what you can do to encourage men to buy.”
She felt a little deflated. The speech had made her feel patriotic and misty inside. But now the cold reality swept back in. She was here to persuade the miners. It was a role Luke had taught her well. She hated Sam for making her do it again, no matter how grand the cause.
He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. Then he smiled. The smile faded as he glanced at her bare neck.
“You forgot the necklace.”
Kate tried to keep her eyes from widening. “Well, you rushed me out of there.” She recalled Luke’s wrath when he caught her trying to steel “his” jewelry and felt her stomach clench.
His smile returned.
She found she could breathe again. He didn’t know. Not yet, anyway. But what would he do when he discovered the truth? She pressed down the urge to tell him. Her family needed the money and she still did not know Sam well enough to trust him. Kate retreated to the table and sat beside his clerk.
The shares were snapped up and the beer and whiskey flowed as dinner was served to all the new shareholders. Kate and Sam sat at the head of the gathering. Kate ate little, knowing that her corset would not permit her to fill her belly. After the meal, there was dancing. Kate was worried that Sam would encourage her to dance with the men. Quite the opposite was true. He was possessive and did not allow her to dance with anyone but him, curtly turning away all those who tried.
“I have never been the jealous sort before,” he said as he led her to the center of the room. “Or maybe I just never had nothing to be jealous of.”
She smiled at the flattery and then looked up to find complete sincerity in his eyes. She had grown accustomed to pretty words from Luke but now wondered if Sam’s compliments were as heartfelt as they appeared.
She decided to believe him. “That is a very sweet thing to say.”
