Thunder on the Plains

by Rosanne Bittner

  She could not help the sudden urge to hug him. Colt felt his arms going around her, and he wondered if she realized what the feel of her did to him. He breathed deeply of her sweet scent, telling himself his feelings might have been the same for any pretty girl in the same situation. A man got lonely out here.

  “Good-bye, Colt,” she said, pulling away from him. “I’ll never forget you, never.”

  “Bye, Sunny.”

  She studied him a moment longer, then turned and ran off into the darkness, feeling on fire, her heart torn with mixed emotions. Was this how love felt? She found the wagons and climbed inside her own, quickly searching for her journal and pen. She sat down on the feather mattress and began to write.

  Colt Travis is leaving us. Tomorrow will be the saddest day of my life, for from then on I will never see Colt again. It seems strange to say it, but in spite of how different he is from anyone I have ever known, we were good friends, and I feel special having known him. I went tonight to tell him good-bye, and he held me. I think I love—She heard footsteps outside the wagon then, and her father looked inside. Sunny quickly closed the journal, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she had been crying. “Father,” she said, not even aware that she had called him Father for the first time rather than Daddy. “Did you already pay Colt?”

  “No. I’m on my way over there now.” He looked at her strangely, and she wondered if he knew where she had been.

  “Do we have to go right back to Chicago, Father?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You wanted to go on, at least to the South Pass. I’m well now, and we have new supplies and a new scout and even soldiers to go along. I want to go on. I love it out here, Father, and it’s important for you to see what might be the best route. It will help you understand what will be needed in the way of money and all.”

  “Sunny, I hate to expose you to any more danger. I almost lost you more than once. Nothing is more important to me than you.”

  “Father, I’m a Landers. I’ll be fine. I want to go on.”

  He frowned. “What happened? I thought you were eager to go back.”

  “I never said I was. You just thought it. Let’s keep going.”

  “You’re not afraid?”

  She leaned back, feeling alive and beautiful. She was a woman, a strong and brave woman at that, according to Colt. If someone like Colt thought it, then it must be so. She felt so sad, yet so proud. She had found a new confidence, a new power. And not leaving this country just yet would help her feel close to Colt a little longer. “I’m not afraid of anything anymore,” she answered.

  Bo smiled, shaking his head. “All right, by God, we’ll go,” the man told her. “Stuart can go back if he wants, but you and I will go on. I’m damn proud of you, Sunny! Damn proud! You are a Landers, all right! You get some sleep and I’ll go back and talk to the lieutenant about the possibility of going on west instead of going back.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Thank you, Sunny.”

  He left her then, and Sunny pressed the journal against her breast, leaning back and remembering the feel of Colt’s strong arms around her, his gentle touch when he put the poultice on her burn. She could not help the new tears that wanted to come, and she wondered if she could ever again feel about any man the way she felt about Colt Travis.

  She did not know just when her tears subsided into sleep. She knew only that when she awoke the next morning she was surprised that she had slept at all. She quickly rose and washed, changing her dress and preparing to go to breakfast with her father and Stuart and the lieutenant. She told her father to go ahead without her. She would be along. As soon as he and Stuart left, she climbed out of the wagon and hurried over to the livery. One more good-bye, she promised herself. Just one more!

  She reached Colt’s campsite and her smile faded. The campfire was cold. Colt Travis was gone.

  Part Two

  Chapter 5

  Sunny sat in the meeting room, waiting for the board of directors of Landers & Sons to assemble for their first meeting since her father’s return. They had been home for only a few days, and her mind still swirled with bittersweet memories of a beautiful land she knew she would never forget, and of a wild, handsome man she would never see again.

  She rose and walked to a window of the second-story boardroom, looking out at dirty snow and a gray day. It was November. The rain had turned to snow and then back to rain again. She imagined what the weather might be like out on the Great Plains and in the mountains—wicked blizzards, bitter cold. Colt was out there somewhere, perhaps huddled alone against a snowstorm. How sad that he could not have Slim’s company. It was hard to imagine what it must be like to wander alone and homeless.

  Below her a train rumbled by. B&L R.R. was painted on the boxcars. The letters stood for Beauregard Landers Railroad, a line owned one hundred percent by her father. It ran from Chicago to Columbus, Ohio; Memphis, Tennessee; St. Joseph, Missouri; St. Paul, Minnesota; and Louisville, Kentucky. Her father also owned considerable stock in the Illinois Central and the Chicago & Rock Island. He had already told her that someday it would all belong to her, as well his forty percent stock in Landers Great Lakes Shipping and Landers Warehousing, in which Vince had already been awarded a forty-nine percent control, the remaining eleven percent in the hands of outside investors. Her father also owned forty percent stock in Landers Overland Freighting and Landers Supply, in which companies it was Stuart who owned forty-nine percent. Besides his full control of all railroad holdings and his thirty percent in all subsidiary companies, Bo Landers held seventy-five percent of the stock in Landers & Sons, the company that owned and controlled the subsidiaries. Vince and Stuart each owned ten percent of Landers & Sons, with the remaining five percent in the hands of other investors, close associates who had to be approved by Bo Landers himself before becoming a part of the company.

  The thought of her father’s power, and the knowledge that someday that power and wealth would fall into her hands, only drove home to Sunny the reality of her situation, and how right Colt was to recognize that their feelings for each other could never have come to anything. Much as she had fallen in love with the beautiful but dangerous land west of the Missouri River, and in spite of her special feelings for a young man who was as untamed as that land, this was where she belonged. This was the life she was born to, and her father trusted her to safeguard all that he owned.

  Ever since she could remember, she had traveled and attended meetings with her father. When she was little he would perch her on his knee, and her presence would help soften board members and investors and aid in Bo’s efforts to get what he wanted. Now she was becoming more aware that she could charm men in a different way. She had returned from the West a woman, the memories of her trip preserved forever in her precious journal. For now it still hurt to think of Colt, to think of the peace and wonder of the Great Plains and the magnificent Rockies; but she knew that as time passed, those memories would gradually fade. The important thing now was to help her father in his even more determined quest to build a railroad that would connect Chicago with the Pacific, a railroad that would bring Oriental trade to the heartland of America and would at the same time give people a safer way to travel through the wilderness.

  Stuart had left them at Fort Laramie and had returned to Chicago to be with the wife and child he had so dearly missed; but Sunny and her father had gone on into the Rockies. Sunny would never forget the rugged, overwhelming beauty of the mountains. She believed the railroad could be built, but now that she knew how big the West was, she was sure such a railroad would take years. Her father was already sixty-three years old, and the trip west had aged him more. She hoped and prayed that Bo Landers would live to see his dream come to be.

  She turned away from the window, smiling and greeting her father when he came into the room, his arms full of papers. “Come and sit at the table,
Sunny,” he told her excitedly. “Everyone will be here soon.” He looked toward the doorway. “Bring in that coffee, and some fresh cigars,” he boomed to a young errand boy in the outer offices.

  Sunny’s several slips rustled as she moved back to the table. She wore brown taffeta today, a perfectly fitted dress that showed off her tiny waist, then billowed to the floor in gentle puffs. Hand-crocheted ivory lace graced the high neck, and a row of thirty buttons with tiny diamonds in their centers decorated the front closure of the dress. The cuffs of the long sleeves were trimmed in the same ivory lace, and she wore a short mink cape around her shoulders to guard against the cold, damp November air that seemed to find its way into the building in spite of the coal heating system.

  “Do you think we’ll win their support, Father?” Sunny asked, aware that today her father meant to garner financial support for a Pacific railroad from his own board of directors.

  “Of course we will,” he answered. “The board has never gone against me on anything I’ve asked for. After all, I hold seventy-five percent of the stock.”

  “Vince was awfully quiet at supper the other night, and he hasn’t come to visit since. I thought he would want to hear more about our trip and about the railroad.”

  “You know Vincent. He was against the trip in the first place. Your stubborn brother is not about to let himself show any interest, but he’ll by God be interested once I announce what I want to do.”

  Men began filtering into the room, and the errand boy hurried in with a tray that held several china cups and a silver pot filled with coffee. He placed the tray in the center of the table, then took from it a small gold box that held some of Bo’s cherished expensive cigars. He set the cigars near Bo’s chair and hurried out again.

  Several of those who entered the room nodded and smiled at Sunny. Again she felt an awareness that men did not look upon her as a little girl anymore. Some had probably already heard about how she had survived the stampede, and about her hideous infection. Absently, she moved her hand to her skirt, touching her left leg, remembering that awful night; she also remembered Colt’s gentle touch when he put the poultice on her burn. She still carried an ugly scar, yet oddly, she didn’t care, for it was her permanent reminder of the most thrilling time of her life, in spite of losing poor Miss Putnam; and it reminded her of a man who would always hold a special place in her heart.

  More men arrived, all greeting her father with loud welcomes and handshakes. Some seemed almost too enthusiastic, and Sunny detected a distinct tension in the air in spite of the hellos and the laughter and questions about their adventurous journey. Something was not quite right, but Sunny could not determine just what it was. When Vince entered the room, the tension only increased. Sunny was sure her father must feel it too, although everyone was friendly and seemed happy to see that she and her father had returned safely. Stuart finally joined them, bringing the board of Landers & Sons to full attendance.

  Chairs scraped and all the men seemed to be talking at once as everyone took their seats. The coffeepot was passed around, and Bo lit a cigar. To Sunny, who sat down at her father’s right hand, everyone’s chatter seemed almost nervous. The men laughed a little too much, some glancing at Vince and exchanging some kind of knowing look. Her oldest half brother moved his eyes to meet Sunny’s gaze, and he gave her his usual condescending look, making sure, as he always did, that she was aware that he didn’t think she had any right attending these important meetings. Vince was as big as his father, with thick, sandy hair and the same intense blue eyes. At thirty-three, he was solid and strong, a formidable-looking man who tried to be as commanding as his father but usually took the wrong approach.

  Stuart more closely resembled his and Vince’s long-dead mother, with his darker coloring and smaller build. He was two years younger than Vince, and the brothers were as different in personality as they were in looks and build. Both often disagreed with their father on business decisions and policy, but Stuart usually crumbled to his father’s wishes, sometimes seeming almost afraid of the man. Vincent, on the other hand, argued with his father to the point of screaming matches, and more than once Sunny had worried that her father was so angry he might have a heart attack. Both boys were spoiled, and Bo never failed to accuse them of being too cautious when it came to expansion and taking risks. They did not have their father’s desire to keep building and investing, or his talent as an entrepreneur.

  Neither brother had been very loving toward Sunny, although Stuart had changed considerably since marrying Vi and becoming a father. Vi, a sweet-natured woman whose warm personality made up for her plain dark looks, had brought out a softer side to Stuart, and had been genuinely loving toward Sunny. Besides her father, Vi was the only one in the family who made Sunny feel loved.

  Vince’s wife, Eve, was another story. She and Vince had a seven-year-old son and a four-year-old daughter, as well as another baby on the way, but Eve’s motherly affection stopped at her own doorstep. She could be a cold, cruel woman to others, and she had had no effect on Vince’s personality. When Sunny and her father first returned home, it was Stuart and Vi who had come right over to see them. Vince had waited for two days, until Bo had invited him to supper. Vince had asked few questions about the trip, and he and Eve had not even brought the children, which had hurt Bo deeply.

  Sunny had only painful memories of her youth, a deep hurt at how her brothers had treated her. Although neither Vince nor Stuart had ever put it into words, she knew as she grew older that both men resented her being born, resented the love her father had had for her mother, which they considered a betrayal to their own dead mother’s memory. Bo had always told her only good and wonderful things about her mother, and Sunny couldn’t understand why her brothers had hated the woman so. Once, Eve had cornered her and had warned her that she had better not think she could wrap everyone around her little finger as she had done with Bo, and as her “scheming” mother had.

  You think that if you play your hand right, you can control all of your father’s holdings, the woman had said. Vince and I have you all figured out, Sunny, all your sweetness, the way you dote on Bo, just like your mother did! If not for you, Vincent and Stuart would inherit every penny and every business your father owns, and when Bo Landers dies, if you get more than your fair share, you can expect a court battle over it! You’re just a daughter, a half sister at that! Vincent won’t begrudge you a small share, but if Bo Landers thinks he’s going to put his business holdings in your hands and deny Vincent and Stuart what is rightfully theirs, he can just think again!

  Sunny had never forgotten the cruel words. Why Eve had attacked her with such venom, she would never understand, unless the woman was simply jealous of how Bo pampered her. She had never been anything but friendly toward Eve, and loving toward her niece and nephew. Eve’s whole countenance was as sharp as her words. She was tall and bony, her dark hair always in a bun, sharp lines to her face, a prominent brow and nose. Bo had commented once that he thought Vincent had married her because she had a good mind for business and because he stood to be even richer when her own father, who owned a bank in Chicago, died.

  You can bet your brother didn’t marry for love, her father had told her once. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Now, Stuart, he married for love. Lord knows Vi doesn’t have a head for business, but she’s a good woman. Still, neither Vi nor Eve can hold a candle to you. You not only have a good heart, but you’re beautiful and damn smart.

  Sunny had never told her father about her confrontation with Eve, afraid of upsetting him too much. She had no idea what he intended to will to her, and she didn’t really care. Whatever fell into her hands, she would respect Bo Landers’s wishes and carry on in his memory, fully accepting any responsibility he gave her, for no daughter could be more loved. She only prayed that such responsibilities were many years down the road.

  “Gentlemen, let’s come to order,” Bo
announced. He puffed the cigar, and the room quieted as he rose from his chair. “It’s good to be home,” he continued. “I’m sure Stuart filled you in on some of our adventures and mishaps out in the Wild West.”

  There came a round of nervous laughter, and Sunny looked at each man, studying his eyes, developing the same protective feelings for her father that he had for her. She could not get over this new awareness, not only of how men looked at her, but a kind of defensiveness of her womanhood. The knowledge that Vince apparently did not think her capable of carrying on in her father’s footsteps used to only hurt her. Now, with the new maturity she had found through her harrowing adventures, she had a feeling of pride, a sureness, and to think that just because she was female she was incapable of understanding the workings of a business as big as Landers & Sons made her angry.

  Everyone listened as Bo recounted his experiences, and Sunny reddened slightly when the man bragged about her own bravery. When he mentioned how their scout, Colt Travis, had saved her life more than once, pain again visited her heart at the realization Colt had been but a tiny part of her life that she would never know again.

  “There is no doubt left in my mind, gentlemen, of the need for a transcontinental railroad,” Bo went on, beginning to pace around the table. “Now, I intend to get to a normal business meeting shortly, but I am simply too excited about the railroad to put off telling all of you what I’ve learned. The land out west is big and wild, but, by God, it can be tamed! A fast, safe connection to California will mean being able to get in on trade with the Orient right here in Chicago. There is vast, untapped wealth in the West, no matter how much others tell you it’s a useless desert. Already gold has been discovered around Pikes Peak. Who knows how much more in the way of precious metals lies out in those hills? It’s a land just itching to be settled. It needs towns and doctors, a safe way for people to travel through it. The profits on transportation alone are worth the effort of laying the tracks.”