Emma's Dream

by Kimberly Grist

  “Between the bomb scare and the fact, the property owners were required to remove fences placed on property they didn’t own and to provide gates every three miles, the conflict ended shortly thereafter, ” Agent Moore said. “Which was about the time I joined the Railroad Police.”

  “I believe it’s the nontraditional undercover lawman that helps to bring things to a close more quickly than conventional practice.” Gesturing between Scotty and Daniel, the detective explained, “Let me be clear; I don’t trust this brother-and-sister team any further than I can throw them. But one thing I am sure of, they are in it for the bounty money.”

  Sheriff Scott opened the drawer and pulled out a bank draft. “They also want safety, which they won’t have until this gang is either dead or behind bars. You might conclude they have more to lose if we are unsuccessful in this roundup than we do.”

  “If this, in fact, is the same gang we’ve heard so much about, you would think after the success they have had holding up the last train, they’d want to lay low for a while.” Scotty walked over to the gun rack.

  Reaching for his Winchester rifle, Sheriff Scott continued, “That’s the funny thing about greed. No matter what you take, it’s never enough. You mark my words; they’ll be there. Although they may be surprised by the warm welcome they’ll receive.”

  Agent Moore took out his six-shooter and spun the cylinder before placing it back in his holster. “We will be joined by several Rangers when we get up the road a piece. After we board, we will stay out of sight until we get close to the target location or see activity from the gang. You men about ready?”

  Chapter 10

  November 10, 1875

  Dear God,

  Is it okay if I just pray? It’s a lot quicker.

  Grace poked out her bottom lip. “It’s no use, Sadie. I don’t think there is such a thing as a four-leaf clover.”

  Clutching her hand around a clump of picked green plants, Sadie sighed. “Do you think if there is no such thing as a four-leaf clover, some three-leaf clover all bunched together will work?”

  “Come here, Petunia,” Grace called to her pet chicken. “I don’t suppose it would hurt to bring these to Emma. What else did Grandma Tennie say brought good luck?”

  Placing her finger along her cheek, Sadie grew quiet. “Let me think, a white cat, or was it a white bird?” She glanced at Petunia, then tapped her forehead. “A found horseshoe.”

  “A found horseshoe? You mean if a horse loses it, we find it?” Grace asked.

  A wide grin crossed Sadie’s face. “Let’s go ask Pa.”

  ***

  Sam swung his hammer quickly and efficiently, nailing rawhide in place on a saddle. The sounds of his daughters’ squeals as the barn door flew open brought him up short. Taking the nails out of his mouth, he smiled. “Look what the wind blew in. Two of my favorite girls.”

  “Pa, is it okay with you if we find a horseshoe?” Sadie asked

  “Scratching his head, Sam replied. “I’ve got a few piled up over in the corner you can have. But what do you want with a horseshoe?”

  Setting Petunia on the ground, Grace raised the cluster of clover clasped in her hand. “We’re trying to bring Emma some good luck. We figure she needs it.”

  Coughing to disguise a laugh, Sam answered, “She’s had a bad week, for sure. But what are you going to do with the clover? Make her some soup?”

  Sadie placed her hand on her hip. “No, Pa. We’ve been looking for a four-leaf clover, but seeing as how we couldn’t find one, we thought a horseshoe might do just as well.”

  Placing his hammer down, Sam called to his daughters. “Why don’t you two come sit and talk with me a minute?”

  “Gracie thought if we bunch some three-leaf clovers together, it might add up the same as one four-leaf,” Sadie said.

  Bending down to inspect the wilting cluster, Sam forced a smile. “If you were to put those plants in a jar with water, we could have Grandma Tennie put it in Emma’s room. I’m sure she would appreciate the fact y’all were thinking about her.”

  Taking both girls by the hand, Sam continued. “It was thoughtful of y’all to want to help Emma. The truth of the matter is, it won’t make a hill of beans difference even if you were to have found one hundred four-leaf clovers. Anyhow, I believe the three-leaf clover is more special than a four.”

  Grace scowled. “Why, Pa? They don’t seem special. Besides, we got lots of them in our field.”

  Sam rubbed his chin. “It seems to me there’s a story about a three-leaf clover. Why don’t we ask Grandma Tennie to tell us about it tonight at suppertime?”

  “You tell it, Pa, please. We like the way you tell stories too,” Grace begged.

  “I don’t know if I can do it as well.” Sam leaned against the railing that separated his work area from the barn.

  Sadie hopped up and down on one foot. “Start out with ‘Once upon a time.’”

  “I may tell it a little different than Grandma Tennie, but okay.” He reached for each girl and seated them on the fence. “Once upon a time there was a cowpoke named Patrick. He was an ordinary fellow who didn’t have much book learning. He was also an itinerant preacher.”

  Grace scrunched up her face. “What’s an itinerant, Pa?”

  “Someone who wanders around and doesn’t stay in one place,” Sam answered.

  A wide grin spread across Sadie’s face. “Like Annie Oakley?”

  Chuckling, Sam continued, “Not exactly. Anyway, Pastor Patrick loved telling everybody about God and how He loved them so much He came down to earth in person—God incarnate—Jesus. He would tell them about how Jesus lived a perfect life and died on the cross to pay the penalty for our sin. How on the third day He rose from the dead and is now in heaven preparing a place for those who accept Him.

  “The cowboys didn’t understand. How can God be Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? Finally, one night as he was laying out his bedroll on a soft mound of clover, an idea hit him. He would use the three-leaf plant to explain the Trinity.”

  Sam picked up a piece of clover and held in between his fingers. “The next evening when he was sitting around the campfire, he held up the clover and asked if it had one leaf or three. The cowpokes answered ‘both.’ Pastor Patrick was pleased as a peach ready to be plucked. He was then able to use this ittt bitty plant in a way to illustrate that God is three in one.”

  Placing the clover in his palm, he held it up for the girls’ closer inspection. “That’s why I think the three-leaf clover is special. It reminds us who God is. Seeing as we have a God who loves us, what do we need with a four-leaf clover?”

  Grace smiled. “I like your story, Pa. But I still get confused about how God can be all three.”

  “Another example might be, I am your father, Grandpa’s son and Uncle Adam’s brother. But I am one person.” Sam swallowed. “Even if I don’t understand completely, I accept the trinity by faith.”

  Sadie jumped from the rail. “Since He is God, I guess He can do whatever He wants to do. Isn’t that right, Pa?”

  Chapter 11

  November 1, 1876

  Dear God,

  Molly gave me another journal for my birthday. She said my other should be full by now. You and I know that’s not true.

  “Thank the girls for the …arrangement.” Emma blinked as she focused on the wilting clover placed haphazardly in a mason jar filled with water. “It was sweet of them to think of me.”

  “Good to see you sitting up, but don’t tire yourself out.” Sam took a seat in a chair strategically placed on the opposite side of the room. Even though everyone in the household had the measles previously, the doctor thought it best to limit her contact with people until he deemed it safe.

  “It’s hard to wear myself out when all I do is sleep or lie around in this dark room.” Emma forced a smile. “My rash has nearly disappeared, and I feel a little bit better each day. I’ll be glad when Doc says I can get up.”

  “I will too. Molly though
t you might be bored, so she sent me with a book, but Tennessee said reading would strain your eyes. As dark as she is keeping this room, I don’t think you could see it anyway.”

  Emma laughed. “I have to agree with you. For the first several days after I woke up, my eyes ached. But they’re better now. Hopefully, I’m on the road to recovery.”

  Twisting his hat in his hand, Sam asked, “Is there something I can do for you? Anything you need?”

  “There is one thing I would like.” Emma bit her lip. “I don’t recall anything about the picnic other than right before I fainted. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “You mean other than you scaring us all half to death?” Sam chuckled. “Or do you just want to make sure you didn’t land on top of the picnic basket?”

  Emma forced a smile. “You would think I would have remembered something. But I don’t recall a thing until I woke up a few days ago. This past week seems somewhat fuzzy.” In the darkened room, Emma could barely make out Sam’s face, but she watched as he raked his fingers through his hair. A sure sign he is worried or anxious about something. “What’s wrong, Sam? Is it Molly or the girls?”

  The floor creaked as he walked to the end of the bed. “Nothing for you to be concerned about. Molly and the girls are fine.”

  Her voice cracked. “I thought I would have received a note or a message from Scotty by now. Whatever is going on, please tell me.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “Don’t let your imagination run loose. I’ll tell you what little I know. Almost as soon as you hit the ground, Grandma Tennie brought the smelling salts out. And within a few seconds not only diagnosed your fever but suspected it might be measles.

  “I knew the first thing we needed to do was to get you out of the sun.” Sam picked up a chair and moved a little closer. “I carried you to the wagon and got you settled as best I could. Tennessee and the girls collected everything from the picnic and were in their seats by the time I untied the horses. We were headed back to the house in no time at all.”

  “What about Scotty? What was he doing during this time?” Emma wiped her eyes.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. We left in such a hurry he would have been lucky to see our backs. He tracked me down in town later when I went to fetch the doctor, apologized and said he would explain everything later.”

  Emma’s hand shook as she pressed her handkerchief to her nose. “Grandma Tennie said the people by the river were outlaws. Is it true?”

  “She only knows what Scotty’s mother told her.” Sam scratched his chin. “Even what little information those two have is based on rumor. The sheriff is not going to endanger his family by telling them anything about an active investigation.”

  Emma smiled. “Scotty teases his mother all the time about her imagination. Since his father let her study the wanted posters, it’s gotten worse. She meets the trains in the afternoon watching to see if she sees anyone suspicious.”

  Slapping his knee with mirth, Sam said, “Scotty’s pa had best watch out. His wife might be looking to replace him as sheriff.”

  “Scotty says it’s because she reads too many dime novels.” Emma’s lip quivered. “I know she is a praying woman, but I honestly don’t know how her nerves have stood his father’s job in law enforcement all these years. Not to mention her son following in his footsteps.” Emma sneezed, then reached for another handkerchief. “Grandma Tennie said he was on a special assignment. Do you know where he is or when he will be back?”

  Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t. But Scotty’s mother said she hoped to hear something by the end of the week.”

  “I guess it’s a blessing I have slept so much these past few days and didn’t know enough to worry.” Emma placed her hand on her head. “I don’t even know what day of the week it is.”

  Chapter 12

  November 2, 1876

  Dear God,

  Molly’s mother came to help since my brother and I have chicken pox. Her name is Tennessee. She says we should call her Grandma Tennie.

  Detective Moore paused on the train platform. “I believe Walt Whitman expressed it best when he described the steam engine as a fierce-throated beauty. Between the sounds of the hundreds of moving parts and the huffs of steam, I find it downright musical.”

  As if on cue, a whistle sounded. Clouds of steam and fire shot up from the engine as it began its departure from the station. Scotty and Daniel followed the detective as he continued their tour along the rails.

  “Although it varies by region, the railroads arrange cars to distance passengers the farthest from the engine. Luggage, mail and other freight create a safety barrier between the locomotive and passenger coaches. First class, dining, sleeper cars and anything exclusive are located at the rear,” Detective Moore explained.

  Scotty whistled as they boarded, then stepped into a finely-appointed private rail car. The walls were paneled in dark mahogany, the floor carpeted, and the room filled with upholstered chairs and card tables. To the left, a large bedroom opened into its own bath. “It’s like a small mansion,” he said.

  Agent Moore cleared his throat. “Since the owner won’t be accompanying us on this trip, he graciously allowed us to use it for our planning purposes. Sit down and take advantage of the luxury. It will be short-lived.”

  Sinking into an upholstered chair, the detective opened a drawer and pulled out a box of cigars. “We’ll have a couple of hours of planning time before we refuel at the next water stop. If things go as planned, we’ll pick up some reinforcements.”

  He held open the box offering each a cigar. “Once we have a chance to assess our talent, we’ll work together to fine-tune our plan. Then we’ll move to less stellar accommodations.”

  Daniel took a chair next to the window. “How many men are you expecting?”

  Pausing as he lit his cigar, the detective answered, “ten, but I am hoping for fifteen.”

  ***

  Scotty wiped his face with his bandana as he adjusted to the stench, a reminder the compartment was previously the temporary home of livestock. They were strategically placed in the luggage car closest to the train’s engine. He examined their surroundings. Crates of various sizes, baggage and dozens of bales of hay lined the walls.

  “If you move some crates closer to the window, it will provide you a place to sit as well as offer some cover when those bandits start shooting.” Detective Moore blew circles of smoke with his cigar. “Remember our role is to drive them off, keep them from getting on board.”

  Scotty lifted a crate and moved it to the corner. “How many do you figure will be part of the holdup?”

  “Hard to say, but anywhere from as few as six to a couple dozen. Either way, we will be ready. We’ve got about an hour before we reach the pass, which is where we expect them to make their move. I’ll be back when we get closer.” Agent Moore exited with a wave of his hand.

  “Moore wasn’t kidding when he said our accommodations would be less than stellar,” Daniel said as he reached for a crate.

  After much discussion and rearrangement of baggage, the pair settled on their newly created perch and scanned the horizon. Attempting to relieve his own nervous energy, Scotty asked, “How’s the farm going, Daniel? You going to plant cotton again next year?”

  Keeping his eyes on the terrain, Daniel scowled. “I think I’m done with cotton. I plan on planting barley this fall, and then I’m going to focus on alfalfa. Had a good crop this year. Hoping I’ll be able to focus on expanding my dairy farm.”

  “With the extreme weather we’ve experienced lately, I imagine you won’t have a problem finding buyers. Any rancher who survived the last few years knows the importance of having additional feed on hand for their stock.” Scotty rubbed the back of his neck. “Whatever happened between you and Lois?”

  “What is this? Why are you asking so many questions?” Daniel glared.

  “Sorry, I’m letting my nerves get the best of me.” He turned his attention toward the stacked hay in the back
of the car and rearranged several bails. As much as he wanted to stop this gang of bandits, his desire was to be back at home, where he could see for himself how Emma was doing.

  For the past several weeks, Scotty and his father had been on alert, expecting the informants to show. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought they would have sought him out at the river just as Emma and her family arrived for his birthday picnic.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tintype of Emma. Several curls framed her face, but the richness of her blonde hair and brown eyes were lost in the image. His gaze focused on the slight crinkling around her eyes as she smiled, and his stomach dropped. Would he see her again?

  A bump in the track brought his attention back to the present. Daniel kicked the newly arranged bales. “I don’t mind answering, especially if it will keep you from moving anything else over here.”

  “The truth is I would like nothing better than to court Lois. But I took a financial hit when my sister lost her husband.” Daniel wiped his head with his sleeve. “I had to come up with funds to move her and her daughter out here. I added on to the house, hoping to make things more comfortable for us and to help pull my sister from her depression.”

  Scotty rubbed his jaw. He knew Daniel’s sister and niece had come to stay, but it hadn’t occurred to him the hardship their arrival had created. He was a good friend, honest and hardworking. Whenever he or his father asked for help, Daniel came without hesitation. Why didn’t I notice the amount of pressure he was under? I should have offered to help.

  “The cash I will earn from this job will give me a little nest egg. But I am afraid it will be too late for Lois and me.” Daniel placed his rifle aside and stretched his arms over his head.

  “Lois is not only pretty but smart, funny, kind, and she was so understanding when I was forced to turn my attention to my sister and niece. She has her own worries with her dress shop, but you would never know it. She has a peace about her.”