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Thunder on the Plains

Page 34

by Rosanne Bittner


  She told herself her past with him was all water over the dam now. She had matured, had faced the truth—Colt Travis was determined never to darken her doorway again—or brighten it, whatever the case may be. He knew what was best for both of them, and so did she. She had finally accepted a ring from Blaine, poor, patient, devoted Blaine. After three engagement parties, one in New York, another in Chicago, and yet another in Omaha, they had come out west four months earlier with Thomas Durant and celebrated reaching the one hundredth meridian. Now Blaine was back in New York, making the necessary preparations to run for governor of that state. It would take a lot of work, and he understood that Sunny would not take herself away from the railroad for that long. She had stayed in Omaha.

  Blaine seemed satisfied just being able to say he was engaged to her and that they would marry in another year. That was enough of a boost to his reputation to help him win votes. It was time to plan further campaign strategies, even though elections would not come for nearly two years yet, and that meant staying in New York for now. “These things take a lot of time and planning,” he had told her before leaving. “Now that the railroad is well under way, I can devote my attention to the elections.”

  Sunny knew that he expected her to be at his side for campaigning after their marriage next year. She had decided she owed him that much, even though it would be close to three years before the railroad was finished. He had promised that after the voting in ’68, she could come back west for the final construction, be present for the joining of the rails, which was expected to take place sometime in ’69. She hated the thought of leaving, but she couldn’t very well marry the man and then stay behind for the first few months of their marriage. He would want her with him, not just for publicity’s sake, but so that they could finally enjoy the consummation of their long relationship.

  The thought of it made her shiver with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Blaine still had not stirred in her the desires she had once felt with Colt. They had shared enough kisses, enough touching for her to know Blaine would be kind, and she supposed that after their wedding night she would discover that being with a man was as pleasurable as Vi had told her it could be. Maybe with Blaine the passion would come after consummation, and she supposed there was nothing wrong with that.

  She was glad Vi and the children were in Omaha now, so that she could talk often with the woman. She felt closer to her since Vi had been the one to help Colt. Although Vi and Stuart were well set and lived in a new home of their own, Vi still insisted on volunteering to help others. She assisted a doctor in Omaha now and was working on a funding drive to build a hospital for the fast-growing city. She thought how different Omaha was today from the dusty little settlement it had been when she first came west.

  “We’re well past the hundredth meridian site, Stuart,” she called to her brother. “I can’t believe how much track has been laid these last four months.”

  “You really don’t have to come back out here, Sunny. Nothing has changed except for the new miles of track that have been laid.”

  “I do have to come, Stuart. It’s like, I don’t know, like I have to keep seeing for myself that this is really happening. When I do this, I feel like I’m bringing Father with me.”

  Stuart thought how beautiful she was, how much she looked like her mother. He was glad Vince had never told her the truth about the woman. What was the sense of it, especially now that she had done so well and was engaged to a reputable, successful man like Blaine? Vince had grudgingly accepted the fact that Sunny had made the right decision to invest in the U.P. after all, and had even expressed an interest in investing himself. Sunny’s engagement to Blaine seemed to have softened her belligerent brother to some degree, at least to the extent that he was actually planning a visit soon to see the progress for himself. Sunny wanted to be happy about it, but Vince had disappointed her enough times that she remained wary of his intentions.

  “We should be reaching end of track soon,” he told her aloud.

  Sunny leaned forward a little to try to see ahead of the train. The rushing wind ruffled the deep blue plume that decorated her bonnet, which was also trimmed with deep blue ribbon that matched the tight-fitting paletot she wore over a white muslin blouse, a ruby and diamond broach at her throat. One thing was certain, his sister was all poise and beauty, and she dressed fit for a queen. Her skirt and the short train behind it were the same deep blue of the paletot, and the netting she wore to enclose the chignon into which her long, thick hair had been rolled at the base of her neck was the same deep blue, and was decorated with tiny beads. Her morocco leather boots were bleached white, with fancy stitching on the toes in the same blue as the rest of her day wear.

  “I still don’t like you coming out here like this,” he told her. “You know the troubles there have been with the Indians.”

  Sunny waved him off and moved around him to the door of her specially built private car. “General Sherman has been sent out to take care of the Indian problems,” she told him as she went inside.

  Stuart followed her. “General Sherman can’t be everyplace at once.”

  “No, but several of his men are camping right alongside the work crews. I’ve seen to that. There is nothing to worry about, Stuart.” She removed the paletot, as the cool morning was turning warmer. She ordered Mae to go and see the cook about bringing some tea and biscuits for her and Stuart. “You should eat a little something yourself, Mae,” she told the woman.

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Mae hurried away, thrilled as always to be brought along on these adventures. Her first train ride had been their first trip to Omaha, and the grand way in which Sunny Landers traveled made her feel like a queen herself. The social quarters of Sunny’s private car were resplendent in Victorian elegance, designed by the master builder for the railroad, George Pullman, to whom she was sure Sunny must have paid a fortune. The richly upholstered car was furnished with stuffed chairs and sofas, and was carpeted. Rich, velvet draperies hung at the extra-large windows, and hand-carved, inlaid paneling led upward to a curved, gold-etched ceiling. Sunny’s private sleeping quarters were just as luxurious, and a special room had been built into the car for Mae, which made her feel even more important.

  The kitchen and dining car was just ahead of Sunny’s private car, and there again, Sunny Landers spared nothing. She enjoyed only the best of wines, dined on ham and boiled tongue, steaks, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, corn bread, teal, all sorts of elegant foods, always kept on hand for any dignitaries who might travel with her. But this time she had come out alone, except for Stuart. Mae wondered sometimes how Sunny kept her lovely shape with so much fancy food, but then the woman was at the same time always busy and active, and she seldom ate big portions of anything. Mae ordered the food, and a cook prepared a silver tea tray. Mae carried it back to Sunny’s car, struggling to keep her footing against the sway of the train. She poured a cup of tea for both Sunny and Stuart before leaving.

  “Thank you for coming, Stuart,” Sunny was saying. “It’s nice to be able to share all of this with at least one of my brothers. Father would be proud of you.”

  Stuart snickered with a tone of bitterness, waiting for Mae to leave before answering. “God knows it took a lot to make that man stand up and take notice. I was never able to do it while he was alive.”

  Sunny set her cup in its saucer, holding the saucer in one hand and leaning back in her velvet chair. “You and Vince both always hated the attention he gave me, didn’t you?”

  Stuart just shrugged. “That’s all in the past.”

  “Maybe. I still feel it sometimes, Stuart. I hope you understand that I never did one thing to ask for all that extra attention, and I never once tried to turn Father against either of you. I never manipulated Father in order to be given so much in that will. In fact, I didn’t even want all of that to end up in my lap.”

  Stuart star
ed at the designs in the flowered carpeting. “I know, Sunny.”

  She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “It scared me to death. I would have gladly handed most of it over, if not for the trust Father had put in me to carry out his dream. I knew that neither you nor Vince at the time would have done that. If not for what I’ve done, there would be no Landers involvement in the Union Pacific. Now I think that you at least see that it was the right thing to do. With so much stock in Crédit Mobilier, using our own construction company to build the railroad, we’ll make a fortune.”

  Stuart thought how much the remark reminded him of his father. At times Sunny was capable of the same scheming and under-the-table dealings as Bo Landers, and why not? The man had taught her well. He himself had grown up with the opinion that bribery and deceit were simply part of running a business—whatever helped keep the family empire strong and wealthy was all right. He knew that deep inside, his sister didn’t really like resorting to payoffs and bilking the government, but that she was not about to let anything stop her from building this railroad, or from making a fortune at doing it; for what was most important was proving to people like Vince that she could be as ruthless as the next man, as smart and cunning, and as successful. She had vowed not to let her railroad investments ruin Landers Enterprises, and she had done her job well.

  “I have no more hard feelings, Sunny.” He wished he could tell her that all along the bitterness had never really had anything to do with her as an individual. It was the way she had come to be in the family that had hurt, the way her mother had been put on such a pedestal; the way Bo Landers had accepted such a woman into the Landers empire and allowed her to hold such a cherished place, as though he had loved her more than he had loved Vince and Stuart’s mother—Lucille Madison, of all women!

  The locomotive gave off two long whistles, signaling that they were approaching the line camp. Sunny quickly rose, ignoring her biscuits. She pulled her jacket back on, buttoning it down the front so that it neatly fit her small waist. “We’re here!” she said excitedly, her eyes always lighting up like a schoolgirl’s when she visited the construction sites. She walked to Mae’s quarters and told the girl to have the cook prepare wine goblets and a tray of liquid refreshments for General Casement. “I imagine the general will be dining with us at noon,” she added. “I want lots of fruit, perhaps some boiled chicken.” She came back to Stuart and took his arm. “Let’s go back out on the platform.”

  “I still say I don’t like this. You know that just two days ago the camp was attacked by Cheyenne. According to Casement’s wire, if not for his scout’s early warning, they would have lost a lot more men than they did.”

  “Well, then, the general must have hired a good scout, so we should be safe. Besides, if the Cheyenne attacked only a couple of days ago, I doubt they’ll try again so soon.”

  “Who knows what those savages will do? Don’t forget the scout before this one was murdered, and the one before that.”

  “And this one has managed to stay alive for four whole months,” Sunny answered. “He must be smarter than the others. Don’t be such a poop, Stuart. The threat of Indian attack only adds to the excitement, don’t you think? Besides, we have six sharpshooters guarding this car alone. Now let’s get out on the platform. I don’t want to miss anything.”

  Stuart shook his head, grinning to himself. There was nothing cowardly about Sunny Landers. He remembered how brave she had been on that first trip west, and the times when she had bravely stood up to Vince. He realized she actually liked the danger of this land as much as she liked its beauty. Someone had once taught her to love it. He wondered how often she still thought about that man.

  ***

  “That was a fine lunch, Miss Landers,” General Casement said respectfully.

  “Well, you certainly deserve the finest for the job you’re doing, General,” she answered. Sunny had long ago learned that praise was the wisest way to get a man to do his best. “You could give lessons to Strobridge and his bunch,” she added. “I never thought such a mixed group of undisciplined men could be turned into such a well-organized group.”

  “Well, when Dr. Durant hired me, I promised him the C.P. would not outdo us. We’re right on schedule. The Indian attack a couple of days ago slowed us only a little. There weren’t so many of them, and we had plenty of warning. Still, the Indian problem is tremendous. And of course there are accidents, and the weather out here can be vicious.”

  “Statistics show we’re losing an average of one man for every mile of track,” Sunny replied. “I wish we could improve that. It upsets me tremendously.”

  “We’re working on making the men more safety-conscious, but as far as the weather and Indians and prairie fires and the like, those are things we can’t control, other than to have good scouts. I’m sorry there are only a few soldiers in camp today. The bulk of them went riding after those renegades who attacked us. There just don’t seem to be enough soldiers to go around, with all this trouble.”

  “I know. Doctor Durant and I both have been pestering President Johnson to make sure enough troops are supplied for your protection. I think the president finally realizes the gravity of the situation. He and so many others just don’t realize how big this land is, how isolated these men are.”

  Casement, Sunny, and Stuart had finished lunch and were walking past the Landers train and the first supply train, on down to the work train. Men standing on platforms stared, some of them removing their hats when Sunny looked at them. Stuart called out a “good afternoon” to them, going up and shaking some of their hands. Shouted orders became louder and more numerous and the men moved a little faster, knowing they were now being watched. Men ran for a rail, ripped it off the rail cart, ran back to the waiting ties, dropped it, and stepped back to let the spike men secure the rail in place.

  “We’re laying a good two miles of track a day,” Casement told Sunny. “Been right on schedule since you were here in the spring.” The man walked ahead of them to talk to a foreman, and Sunny shook her head.

  “Do you see now why convincing Vince to buy out Don Harrison’s steel mill was a smart move?” she asked Stuart. “Most of those rails were made at our own mill, shipped to St. Louis by rail and over to Omaha by steamship. Nearly every rail that gets laid means more money going back to Landers Enterprises, so even indirectly we make money from the U.P., especially when we can pad the prices twice—first for the steel mill and again when Crédit Mobilier bills the government. Because of me, my profits from shares in Crédit Mobilier go back into Landers Enterprises.”

  Stuart laughed lightly, taking her arm as she stepped over horse dung. “You’ve turned into a hell of a businesswoman, dear sister. I’ll never forget the look on Vince’s face when you explained it all to the board. There wasn’t a damn thing he could say against it. You really showed him up that day.”

  Sunny smiled, stopping to watch the workers again. Casement had to shout at some of them to “quit staring at the lady and show her what you’re made of!” Sunny shook her head, breathing deeply with satisfaction. “It’s a double joy, Stuart. Not only have I proven to Vince this can be done without damaging the company, but here it is, a transcontinental railroad, the very thing people used to laugh at my—I mean, our father—over. Now those who failed to get involved are crying in their beer. Somehow, though, the profits and all aren’t so important as proving this could be done, and knowing the benefit it’s going to be some day to travelers—to the whole nation. There are wonderful new markets in California—their farm produce, wonderful spices and silks from the Orient, lumber. Blaine was smart to get in on the ground floor of the logging potential in California and Oregon.”

  “Blaine is a man who always stays one step ahead. You’ve chosen well, Sunny. Even Vince likes Blaine.”

  “In some ways they’re two of a kind. And you know Vince. He’s just happy I’m marrying someo
ne who doesn’t need my money.”

  Stuart chuckled. “Yes, I guess that’s what he’s most happy about. He—” He stopped mid-sentence when he heard three shots fired in quick succession. “What the hell?” He squinted to watch a rider approaching from the northwest. They had walked slightly beyond end of track, and the horizon was open to them. “That man is riding awfully hard. Maybe it’s one of Casement’s scouts. I wonder if there’s some kind of trouble.”

  The man began waving a blanket and calling out in shrill war whoops. “My God, he’s an Indian,” Sunny said, her eyes widening.

  “Miss Landers,” Casement shouted, running up to Sunny and Stuart. “Get back in your car, quickly! That’s our scout’s signal that trouble is coming! Hurry!”

  Sunny lifted her skirts, and the three of them started running back toward Sunny’s train. “Your scout is an Indian?” Stuart asked, the words panted.

  “Only half—Cherokee. You two get in your car and stay low!” Casement left them and began shouting more orders to the workers, who had instantly dropped their tools and were scrambling into the sleeper cars to grab their rifles. It seemed to Sunny that it was taking forever to run along the first two long trains. By the time they reached their own train, they could already hear more war whoops and some gunfire. She and Stuart scrambled onto the platform, and Sunny stopped to watch the oncoming Indians, a great number of them.

  “Sunny, get inside!” Stuart shouted.

  “Wait! They aren’t that close yet!” She watched the scout, who was riding hard toward camp, his horse’s mane and his own long dark hair flying in the wind. On his heels was a swarm of Indians, and she could hardly believe the scout had managed to dodge their bullets and arrows, let alone the fact that some of the railroad men were already shooting back. The poor scout was caught in the crossfire!

 

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