Meeting Caroline
As the train steamed along, Caroline Fairfield tightly clutched the handles of the carpetbag on her lap. She stared out of the window into the blackness, her mind singing with the clickety-clack of the train as it sped along. The further she travelled, the less likely HE would be able to find her. Unless, of course, he was on the train as well. However, it had been two days and she was beginning to hope she had lost him.
She had barely moved from her seat since the train had pulled out of San Francisco heading east. Only doing so to use the facilities or get something from the buffet car. When she had moved, she had kept a nervous eye out for HIM or for anyone who looked suspicious. Ha! How did she define suspicious? EVERYONE unfamiliar looked suspicious right now, given her predicament. Yet she was a realist. Not everyone would be working for HIM. Certainly not family men, with wives and children in tow. Most people looked at her with interest when she moved. Why wouldn't they? She was young and beautiful. Expensively dressed and travelling alone. And obviously nervous. She shook her head. Should she be suspicious of only single men? She had read about female Pinkerton agents. No it had be, EVERYONE, she told herself firmly. As she stared out into the black, all she wanted was it to envelope her and hide her away from prying eyes.
HE couldn't be on the train. If he were, surely she would have seen him by now? He would have sent his men to search the train from end to end. She should relax, she told herself. By being anxious, she was drawing attention to herself and she didn't want that. She just wanted to sit here quietly until the train pulled into Chicago. Then she would have to change trains for one to Boston.
Once she was back in her home city, she would worry about what she did next. At least in Boston she had friends. Friends who would put her up for a while until she had worked out a plan to deal with HIM. She knew she had to take legal advice. She had hesitated up until now, as HE was family, her late mother's brother, Robert. When she returned to Boston, she wouldn't hesitate anymore. She had run away but he had pursued her all the way to San Francisco. There he had caught her and attempted to drag her home but she had given him the slip. The indignity of it! She was a mature, reasonable and of age woman. She could make her own decisions in life.
It was the money of course. She sighed bitterly. Her late father had left everything to her. Robert was a man who believed that women shouldn't be allowed control of a business and certainly not a fortune. In his mind, women simply had no understanding of such things. As her only living relative, he felt entitled to relieve her of the burden. Yet Caroline's father had thought differently. He had written his will in such a way that Robert had been frustrated. Caroline remained the heir and in control. The longer it continued, however, the more desperate Robert was becoming. Hence, he had tracked her to San Francisco.
She sighed heavily as she stared out of the window, seeing nothing but her own reflection. Lost in thought, she didn't register the footsteps in the aisle. A face appeared in the reflection behind her. It took a moment before she realised what she was seeing. HIM! But how? She had been certain she had lost him. Her heart fell as the face grinned at her triumphantly.
"Hallo Caroline. Fancy seeing you here," he said, pleasantly.
He slid onto the seat next to her.
"Uncle Robert." She acknowledged him politely, very aware that they were in a public place.
"On your way to Boston, my dear? What a coincidence. That's exactly where I'm going."
Caroline swallowed as she felt his hand close on her elbow.
"I thought I'd lost you," she murmured.
"Yes my dear, that's exactly what I wanted you to think. Let you get far enough away from relative civilisation," he smiled, smugly. "But I can't have this. I really must insist that you share my compartment now. You will be much more comfortable." He tightened his grip and urged her up. "Come along," he growled, when he felt her resistance. "We mustn't make a scene, my dear, must we?" he said, in a voice only she could hear.
Caroline's breath came in hesitant sobs as she was persuaded to her feet. He couldn't be doing this. He mustn't be doing this. There were laws against this sort thing. This was kidnapping surely? That was illegal in all States and Territories – wasn't it?
"Robert please …" She knew she sounded desperate and hated herself for it. "Please let me be. We … can work something out. Make some financial arrangements …"
"The time is passed for that, Caroline. Now …" He looked meaningfully at the two men, sitting further down the car, watching them. She followed his gaze. She was in no doubt that, they worked for Robert and were prepared to assist him if she proved difficult. "Be a good girl and let's not make a fuss. Mmmm?"
Caroline swallowed hard. Making a fuss would attract attention. Surely, someone would step in and help. Wouldn't they? There were few other passengers in the car. Only families or elderly people. No one who would want to or could get involved in another's business. Not if the two heavies intervened. Someone innocent may get hurt. She didn't want that. There was nothing for it.
Robert felt her sink in defeat.
"Good girl. Come on. It'll soon be over."
She rose to her feet. He guided her into the aisle and in front of him, nodding to the two men to follow.
Throughout their conversation, neither of them had been aware that the train was slowing down. Nor had it registered in either of the consciousness that the conductor had entered the car in the direction they wanted to go. He was shouting "Porterville! Next stop Porterville, folks."
Passengers began to get up and collect their belongings from the racks above.
Suddenly there was a screech of brakes, a grinding of metal, a bang and the train lurched sideways. It swayed for a moment, almost remaining upright before tilting over further. It caught Caroline and Robert unaware and they both struggled with their footing. Caroline managed to catch the back of the seat but Robert fell between the seats.
The direction of travel was still forward but the slower speed wasn't enough to pull the car upright again. In slow motion, it tipped fully over. Passengers hurtled through the air. Luggage and other unsecured objects, and loose interior fittings became projectiles inside the car. Smaller belongings sailed around. Windows broke as the car scrapped along the ground on its side. The sense of normalcy had shattered into uncontrollable chaos.
The car finally came to an abrupt stop. Shouts of panic turned into a chilling silence. The silence turned into hysterical screams. The moans of the injured broke through the screams and then came cries for help.
Caroline had managed to cling to the arm of the seat and found her feet scrabbling in mid-air. Eventually they found purchase on the opposite arm. She clung there, sobbing with relief, not daring to move, fearful that the train would move again.
Kid Curry turned and sorted out the key he needed to lock the padlock of the livery stables. He sighed as the Town Hall clock signalled ten o'clock. It was amazing how many nights Walt Reilly, his boss, found to give the Kid the late shift. Not that he minded. With Heyes gone, the little house they had shared was a lonely place. Quieter, he thought ruefully, but lonely. It held no attraction for him other than as a place to sleep and eat the occasional meal.
He sighed again as he thought how much longer he planned to be here. In this town. Doing this job. He was used to it now but he didn't like it. It was only supposed to be for six months until word got around that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were no longer wanted. Just six months and they would get on with their lives. Do what they wanted. Go where they wanted. Without looking over their shoulders all the time. Without being arrest, or killed because of who they are.
Things hadn't exactly worked out like that though had they? It was now eight months, nearer nine and he was still here. Still working in the livery. Still shovelling … manure every day. How much longer could he stay in Porterville?
The livery door locked he turned away and looked down the street. There were only a few people still around at this time of night. Mostly men, either coming or going from the saloon. The lights emanating from there were the only bright spots on the otherwise dark street.
He smiled to himself as he started in that direction. He knew what awaited him when he stepped inside. Heyes was right about liking this town and the town liking them. Faces now familiar would greet him with a smile and an offer to buy him a drink. He would be drawn into conversation. There would be laughter and harmless silliness. It was a nice friendly town and he and Heyes had been readily welcomed into the community as friends of the popular sheriff, Lom Trevors.
Heyes had settled into the community more easily. Perhaps it was because the job Lom had found for him was more accessible and customer facing. Working in the livery stable, the Kid was more in the background. Whatever the reason, Heyes was definitely part of the community now.
Only the week before he had married, Mary Fletcher, the daughter of the former sheriff no less. Leading up to that event, the town had been rife with speculation about when Joshua was going to ask her. Not if, when. The town had decided that Joshua and Mary were destined to marry even before the principles did. There had even been a book running, although the Kid never did find out who exactly was behind it. Laughing, he had asked to make a bet but his participation politely refused. He was too close to one of the parties involved.
The marriage when it happened was sudden and quick. And secret. At least that's what Heyes had wanted. In fact, the town let him go on thinking that right up until he and Mary had emerged from the church. Then they found the whole town waiting outside to wish the happy couple well. Heyes had looked a little sick but had no option but to smile and shake hands. Kiss and be kissed. It had taken him and Mary a good half an hour to cross the street to the hotel, where he had planned a quiet dinner with the few witnesses to the ceremony. Afterwards, Mary had beamed at him, as the hotel staff rolled back the carpet. There was going to be music and dancing, whether he liked it or not.
The Kid had laughed at Heyes' face when he had realised. He had turned greener still when it became apparent to him that he was expected to lead his new wife out for the first dance. Heyes was a reluctant dancer at the best of times. Under sufferance, he had taken off with Mary, as if he pursued by a posse, for one circle of the room, sat down and had refused point blank to dance again. Even his new father-in-law's growl that he had promised to make Mary happy wasn't enough to persuade him onto the dance floor again.
Mary was a nice lady. She suited Heyes to a tee but the Kid knew Heyes was going to have a lot of trouble with her. The Kid also knew that his friend didn't mind one little bit. Heyes had found his new life-long partner. Although Mary and her father knew who Joshua really was, to the rest of the town, he was still Joshua Smith and he worked in the Hardware Store. Very soon, the Hardware Store's new owner if the rumours were true and Seth, the current owner, was set to sell up and retire. It was looking very likely that shortly Hannibal Heyes, former bank and train robber, would need a mortgage!
The Kid shook his head at the irony of that thought. Somewhere his subconscious heard the train approaching. It dismissed it as normal. The 10:30pm train, the last through Porterville for the day and it was on time. His mind took a few moments before it registered that tonight there was something wrong. Tonight, the train was singing a different song.
He only had time to frown before he heard the much louder sound of shrieking metal followed by thuds and bangs. He stopped and listened without understanding. The noise was so loud it drowned out the music from the saloon. Then the contrasting silence jolted him into movement, just as the curious were beginning to spill out into the street.
"The train!" he yelled as he ran by the saloon.
The Kid led the men of the town in the direction of the tracks. A hundred yards from the depot, the locomotive had come to a stop. It was miraculously still upright, although the front end was off the rails and it leaned at an ominous angle. The fireman was climbing shakily out. A moment later, the engineer hastily followed. Behind, the tender and first carriage were on their sides, the second and third carriages tilted over, their connection to the rest of the train, being the only thing holding them in that position.
"Hell!"
As the townsfolk, came to a stop and stared, passengers were struggling out. Some were already wandering about dazed and bleeding. Everything and everyone, covered in dust, looking like ghosts with wide staring eyes.
"Someone get the doc!" a voice shouted. Only afterwards did the Kid realise that had been him.
"On it, Thaddeus."
"Tell the hotel and boarding houses to expect visitors!"
"Sure thing Thaddeus."
"We'll need ropes and ladders." A man started to hurry away to set about the task.
"And stretchers!"
"Will do."
"Bring the wounded over here so the doc can take a look at 'em when he gets here." The Kid turned to the men who had run up to him. "The engine alright?" he asked the engineer.
"Yes sir. All shut down."
"Good. Keep an eye though. No telling if there's any damage to the firebox. Don't want that exploding while we're rescuing folks."
"No sir we sure don't."
"Conductor! Over here man."
"You in charge?" asked the conductor, hurrying over, handkerchief pressed to his forehead. Blood was seeping through and running down the side of his face.
"No but I'm the only one asking questions right now. How many passengers on board?"
"Can't be sure of the exact number." The man was struggling to think and swaying slightly. The Kid grabbed his arm and held him upright. "'Bout forty I reckon."
"Okay, thanks. Get yourself over there and wait for the doc. Here." The Kid handed him over to a woman who gently led the conductor away.
When he turned round, there was group of people looking at him expectantly waiting for instructions. Suddenly he was in charge! Swallowing hard he took up the challenge.
"Okay men we do a car by car search. Get everyone else well away. Those carriages could go at any moment." He pointed to where the townsfolk were already steering the dazed passengers. "Over there's a good place. Get the easy ones out first. Clear space so we can see what we're dealing with." He dropped his voice so only the immediate rescue team could hear. "Then we'll deal with the dead." He swallowed the lump. He sure hoped not. There were women and children on board.
Rescuers pulled Caroline Fairfield to safety through the opposite window. She wasn't hurt, passed a few bruises and bumps, just very shaken. Knowing there were others who needed more help she waved her rescuers away. She slumped down by the side of the rails.
She was in shock. Nothing like this in her previously ordered and comfortable life had happened to her. She felt out of control. It was a feeling she didn't care for. She put a hand to her head. As she did so, she became aware that the sleeve of her dress was torn. It was hanging down; a useless rag. She stared at it. She would have to get that mended when she was home. Her maid, Margaret, would be able to mend it. In the meantime, she would have to change. She had other clothes in her bag. Oh! Her bag! Where was her bag?
She looked around wildly, not really seeing the chaos around her. She just needed her bag. She struggled to her feet. In the process catching her heel in the back of her dress. It ripped. She groaned, stopped and swung the skirt round so she could see. She stood staring at it without seeing. This was the last straw! She didn't move. Her ripped dress was the entire focus of consciousness. Perhaps she could sew it herself. She was no needlewoman but she supposed she could do an adequate job. Enough to suffice until she could change. Yes, that's what she would do. Now she needed a needle and thread. She had a sewing kit in … Oh! Her bag! Where was it?
When she looked around this time, she did see the chaos. The lopsided locomotive, the carriage on its side, others leaning over at impossible, non-regulation railroad angles. Had she been in there? Which one had she been in? Someone had been with her. Robert! Where was Robert? Was he still in there? Was he hurt? Dead? There had been two men. Where were the two men?
The sudden realisation of what had happened hit her. She thumped back to the ground. She looked across at the car she been in. It was on its side and rescuers crawled all over it, shouting instructions at one another. As she watched, they pulled another passenger out through the window. He looked unhurt, just relieved, like she was, to be alive. A rescuer jumped down inside the car in search of other passengers.
Where had Robert been when this happened? Beside her? Behind her? Yes behind her. She remembered now. He had fallen between the seats. She hoped he was alright. Of course she did. At the same time, she hoped this would delay him some in his bid to take her back to Boston. Frustrate him in his attempt to control her life.
She smiled faintly as a woman, a stranger of course, draped a blanket around her shoulders. It wasn't a cold night but she had started to shiver. She hadn't realised. Shock she supposed.
"There, there dear. You'll be alright now. Are you hurt? You don't look hurt?"
Caroline shook her head. "No, I'm fine really. You're very kind."
"Nonsense. What's your name, dear?"
"Caroline."
"Hallo, Caroline. I'm Sara. You come along with me now."
"No, my bag. I must get my bag. It's …"
"Your bag isn't going anywhere, Caroline. And you don't need it. Time enough for finding bags in the morning. You come along with me. I can find you anything you need for now. There's a warm bed and cocoa waiting. Perhaps Harold … that's my husband … will let us have some of his whiskey in it. How does that sound?"
"I don't drink spirits," Caroline murmured.
"Neither do I but I think on this occasion it will help."
Before Caroline knew it, Sara had helped her to her feet. With Sara's arm round her shoulders, she was led away from the scene. She barely noticed the man giving orders to a cluster of men. She was just glad that someone was taking charge of the situation. She wished someone would take charge of her situation and tell her what to do. But they were thoughts for tomorrow.
Throughout the night, the Kid was the rallying point. He made the decisions; folks looked to him to make those decisions, carrying out his instructions without argument. Everything went through him. Looking back, he had no idea how that had happened. It just had and he got on with it. In the early hours, Lom found him collapsed, exhausted on a park bench in the main square.
"Well done, Thaddeus," he said, shaking his shoulder.
"Awh, Lom. I jus' did what I had to."
Lom slid onto the seat next to him. "But that's it. You didn't have to."
"Somebody had to take charge. Co-ordinate things. If Heyes had been here …"
Lom grinned. "Yeah, I reckon he'da taken charge alright. But he isn't and you are. You did fine, Kid. Don't put yourself down. Folks look to somebody to give directions in times like this and you were that man. You got the job done. We're fortunate there were no fatalities and nobody was seriously injured. The doc and the women have dealt with all the bleeding and the broken bones. All the passengers are comfortable and settled. Either in the hotel or boarding houses. Some of the townsfolk have taken them into their own homes. You dealt with it all Thaddeus. Stabilising the train, making sure the rescue went off safely and efficiently. This night and your part in it will stay with this town for a long while."
He patted the Kid's shoulder again.
"Well done, Kid. Now get yourself home and rested. I'll tell Walt not to expect you too early tomorrow."
The Kid nodded, sighed but didn't move. "Lom, what caused the train to jump the tracks like that?"
Lom shrugged. "Guess we won't know until the railroad has it's investigation. They've already sent for the folks they'll need. Detectives and engineers to get the locomotive back on the rails and sort out the cars. Reckon the town'll have a lot of extra mouths to house and feed in the coming days." Lom looked at the Kid, feeling the tension from the younger man. "But that isn't it is it?"
The Kid sighed. "I was jus' thinking back to all the times we stopped a train by putting logs on the line or ripped up the track. What woulda happened Lom if the engineer hadn't seen 'em in time? Would something like this happen?" He shook his head. "Don't bear thinking about. None of us woulda wanted folks to get hurt. Went against our phi-los-ophy."
Lom smiled. "I know that. And nobody did get hurt in your train heists did they? Even when you dynamited the safe, you and Heyes made sure all the passengers got to safety first. That's what set your robberies apart, Kid. Y'know this. And I reckon it's part of the reason why the Governor gave you your amnesty." Lom gave the Kid's shoulder a shake. "Go home Kid. Get some sleep. You've earned it."
Lom got up.
"See you tomorrow in the saloon. I reckon there'll be a lot of folks who will wanna buy you a drink."
The Kid smiled faintly and nodded.
"See you Lom."
With a last weary smile, he levered himself up.
"Excuse me, sir."
The Kid spun round. He was alone in the livery, sweeping up in the late afternoon. He was surprised to find a woman standing just inside the passenger door. And what a woman! Definitely not the usual type found in a western livery stable.
She was elegantly attired, the material of her dress expensive and of the highest workmanship. Her blonde coiffure was immaculate and obviously not a style that could be affected alone. She held her head high and looked at him imperiously, an air of command about her. Her blue eyes matched the Kid's without any of that silly simpering and blushing that so plagued him when meeting a young woman for the first time.
"Sorry ma'am. I didn't hear you come in," the Kid apologised politely, taking a step forward.
She smiled faintly. "Do you sell horses here?" she asked, nervously, looking around in distaste.
"Yes, ma'am." He paused. He widened his eyes at her. "You wanna buy a horse?" She didn't seem the sort and she certainly wasn't dressed for riding.
"Yes." She wasn't sure why he should be surprised. This was a livery stable. "And a saddle, please."
"Ain't got no side saddles ma'am," he said, quickly, a mite sharper than he intended.
She smiled. "I understand. That's quite all right. A usual saddle would be fine. Thank you."
The Kid frowned. He was confused and doubtful. He shrugged but if that's what she wanted.
"Then sure ma'am. I can sell you a horse and saddle."
She seemed relieved. "Good. What … what time do you close this evening?"
"Well I generally shut up at ten ma'am."
"Oh so early!" she breathed with an air of disappointment. She clutched her purse in front of her with both hands.
"Everything okay, ma'am? You seem a mite nervous."
She took a step forward. "Well I was hoping that you could have the horse. And the saddle. Ready for me about midnight?" She looked at him hopefully.
The Kid swallowed. She was by far the most beautiful woman he had seen in a long while. Way, way out of his league of course. Probably even Heyes' too. She certainly wasn't a western gal either. Her manner was rather haughty, her speech deliberate and cultured. She didn't look entirely comfortable being here in a livery stable, talking to a western male.
The Kid quickly surmised she must have been on the train the previous night. The hotel, boarding houses and folks all over town had put the passengers up, until the engineers could put the train back on its tracks.
"Well I guess I could stay around until then," the Kid said, slowly. "If you're sure you don't want 'em earlier?" He frowned doubtfully.
She smiled relieved. "Oh that would be wonderful if you would, Mr …?"
"Jones. Thaddeus Jones."
"Thank you Mr Jones. I will be back at midnight. Now I really must go."
She turned and left. The Kid took a deep breath and turned away to continue with his sweeping. It was only then he realised she hadn't asked how much.
The Kid was waiting in the livery at midnight. Heyes had left a book behind and the Kid had been reading it to pass the time while he waited. He struggled over some of the unfamiliar words as he read aloud.
"Now that don't make sense!" he said, flicking back a few pages to check something. He read a section and grunted. "Yeah it does," he sniffed and returned to where he was.
He heard a sound. Old habits made him reach for his gun and he drew it in an instant. He was relieved to see the woman from earlier slipping through the passenger door. She was now dressed for riding in a divided skirt, egg yolk yellow blouse and tweed short jacket. On her head, she wore the female equivalent of a Stetson and she carried a small bag.
"Oh Mr Jones, you waited. Thank you." She smiled relieved.
"Evening ma'am. I said I would." He holstered his gun and slid off the stool. "I'll saddle the horse for you. I picked out a quiet one for you. Shouldn't give you too much trouble."
He started to do that but she stopped him.
"Thank you. How much do I owe you?" she asked. She seemed in a hurry.
He was close to her now. He could smell her subtle perfume. He swallowed. "Um, well it'll be thirty dollars, ma'am." He seemed to be stumbling over his words all of a sudden. "I'm afraid all the gear and everything puts the price up."
"The gear?" Then she shook her head in reproach to herself. Of course. She knew what he meant. "Yes. That's … that's quite acceptable."
She found the money for him, which he took and put it away in a drawer of the desk. He went off to start saddling up, leaving her standing looking around, her bag clasped tightly in both hands.
"What are you reading?" she asked, seeing the book lying on the desk. She crossed over and picked it up. "Oh!"
"A friend of mine left it. Thought I'd give it a go."
"Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott. That's … unexpected, Mr Jones." She raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"Oh my friend likes to read. He's a mite unusual ma'am."
The Kid was still in the stall when a man came through the passenger door. He had a bandage across one cheek and he was limping.
"Caroline! There you are! What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, angrily, striding over to her.
"Uncle …"
Before she could react, he had grabbed her arm roughly. "You're coming back to the hotel with me right now!"
"I will not! Let go of me, Uncle!" She struggled hard but couldn't get free.
"I said you're coming with me! Stop behaving like a spoilt schoolgirl!"
"Leave me alone! You're hurting me!"
"Stop it!" The man slapped her hard on the cheek and shook her roughly. She cried out in pain and shock.
The Kid was out of the stall fast.
"Hey! Let the lady go."
"This is nothing to do with you. This is a family matter," Robert growled, annoyed that someone was challenging him as he struggled to deal with Caroline. He gave the Kid a brief look and instantly dismissed the young man as harmless.
"Well that may be but I distinctly heard the lady asking you to let her go."
"Look! This is none of your business!" Robert looked at him furiously.
"Yeah well I'm making it my business." As Robert watched the gun at the liveryman's side appeared magically in his hand. It was pointing at him. "I suggest you do as the lady says," the Kid said, ominously low.
"Who are you?" the man demanded, angry at the interruption.
"Well I work here. Now the lady has asked you to let her go." The Kid was firmer now.
The man eyed the gun in the Kid's hand. He saw a slim, mild looking young man and Robert decided he was no threat to his plans. The man probably didn't know how to use the gun anyway.
"Come on, Caroline. Ignore this country bumpkin!" He started to drag her away to the door.
The Kid cocked the gun.
"This country bumpkin has told you to let the lady go. And he won't be telling you again!"
Something in the Kid's voice had changed. It was hard, icy and full of menace. His whole demeanour had changed. This was a much more confident and capable young man. Robert looked at him again in a different light. He eyed the gun warily now and slowly released the woman's arm.
"Move away ma'am," the Kid growled, his eyes not wavering from the man.
She moved quickly away to stand behind the desk out of Robert's reach.
"Now I suggest you be on your way." The Kid motioned with his gun to the door.
Robert looked furiously at the woman and then at the man with the gun. The Kid motioned again and deliberately moved between the man and the woman.
"I'll find you Caroline! And when I do, you will do as I say!" the man said, angrily and stalked out.
When the Kid was sure he was gone, he hurriedly put the bar across the door. When that was in place, he holstered his gun and turned to face the woman.
"Are you alright ma'am," he asked walking over.
She was taking deep breaths her hand at her throat. Then she felt her reddened cheek and winced.
"Yes," she nodded, before collapsing heavily onto the stool. "Thank you. That was most kind of you."
The Kid shrugged. "Ma'am, folks round these parts don't hold with men mistreating women. He was hurting you and I could tell you didn't wanna go with him. I wasn't 'bout to let that happen."
She nodded. "I did not."
The Kid could see she was shaken but trying to hide it. He crossed and got her some water. "Here, ma'am." He put the enamel cup down on the desk in front of her and withdrew.
"Thank you." She picked up the cup with a shaking hand. She took a few sips and then returned the cup to the desk. She appeared to be getting herself under control now. "Thank you. That was most welcome."
Only now did she look at him and nodded her head gracefully at him.
"I thank you Mr Jones." The Kid was not expecting an explanation, nor was he going to ask. Folks minded their own business in the West. If they wanted to live that is. However, he got one anyway. Of sorts. "He's my uncle and he's trying to take me back to Boston."
The Kid had been right. She was from the train. "And you don't want to go to Boston?" He looked doubtful.
She smiled faintly. "Oh yes Mr Jones I do want to go to Boston. Just not with him!"
"So what were you planning to do? Just ride outta here?"
She looked shamefaced. "Yes."
"To where ma'am? Nearest town is thirty miles away. And it ain't the sorta place a woman such as yourself oughta be going. And certainly not in the middle of the night!" He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Not really the sorta place I'd go in the middle of the night either."
"I really didn't think about it Mr Jones!" she snapped, and then realised that sounded rude. He was just trying to be concerned for her. "I'm sorry. I ... just … needed to get away."
"Yes ma'am."
An uncomfortable silence developed. The Kid stood looking at her. She sat fiddling with his book, Ivanhoe. Then the Kid shook his head and moved away.
"I'll saddle that horse ma'am." He had decided that if she really wanted to go to Salt River, he'd go with her. Make sure she got there safe and settled in the dubious hotel they had there. He gave no thought to anything further.
She sat where she was for several minutes and then went to stand in the entrance of the stall.
"Mr Jones?"
"Ma'am?" He looked up from cinching the saddle and brought the stirrup down.
She stood hands clasped in front of her, head held high. She swallowed. "May I ask for your advice?"
"My advice?" He sounded doubtful but shrugged anyway. "Sure."
"What do you think I should do?"
"Well now," he started and led the horse out of the stall. "Looks to me like you oughta get yourself a new uncle!"
He finished tethering the horse to a post and turned back to her. She was trying not to smile but not succeeding. He smiled too.
"Now that's better," he said with a nod. "Of course it's none of my business but if'n you don't wanna go back to Boston with him, you've gotta stay outta his way until the train is back on its tracks."
"Yes. Yes I see that," she nodded. She hesitated. "But where? You … say Salt River is not … appropriate. Do you know of somewhere else I could go?" She took a step forward towards him.
"Yes ma'am. I reckon I could hide you."
She took a deep breath. "You would do that? You can?" she asked, eagerly.
He smiled. "Yes ma'am I reckon I can." He hesitated. "If you trust me?"
"Mr Jones how could I not? You've already saved me from him once."
The Kid took that as a yes.
"Right then. Here's what we're gonna do."
Caroline was sitting on the porch outside the small cabin Heyes and Curry had called home since they had lived in Porterville when the Kid rode up.
"You found this place okay then?" he asked as he hitched his horse.
"Yes. Your directions were easy to follow." She got up. "Was he there?"
"Possibly. Hard to tell in the dark, ma'am. But I rode around for a bit just in case afore I made my way here. Come on in."
He took her inside and lit the lamp. "Tain't much but its home," he grinned and pulled out a chair at the table for her to sit.
She looked round and was surprised at how homely, neat and tidy it was. "Do you live here alone, Mr Jones?"
"Yes ma'am. I do now."
"Oh! I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"Your wife …"
The Kid grinned. "Oh no ma'am. I meant my partner, Joshua Smith. He's away at the moment. There's no wife."
She seemed relieved for some reason. "I just thought … Never mind." She took a seat at the table.
"Can I get you a drink ma'am? Some coffee. Tea! I think we have tea." He hurried into the kitchen area. "If'n I can find where Heyes keeps it," he muttered to himself.
"If you have tea that would be nice Mr Jones. Thank you."
The Kid found the tea and made it according to the instructions on the packet. He placed the cup and saucer in front of her and sat down at the table opposite her. Caroline sipped at the tea.
"You make nice tea, Mr Jones. There's a real art to making a good cup of tea."
"Thank you ma'am," he grinned. He must remember to tell Heyes that when he was back. Heyes' attempts at making tea usually ended in something undrinkable. Just like his coffee.
"So Mr Jones what do you suggest I do now?"
"Well, the engineers arrived today. They've been out at the site all day looking at how best to get the train back on the tracks. Think they're gonna try and do something tomorrow. If they manage it then your uncle will be on it when it pulls out. Not quite sure when that'll be ma'am." He hesitated, flicking a look at her. "Folks heard him saying to the two men he was with, you could take your chances. You might wanna wait until you're sure he's gone."
Caroline nodded. "Yes I think that would be best. I'm not anxious to see him again."
"In the meantime you're welcome to stay here. Like I said, it ain't much but it's outta sight."
"Thank you, Mr Jones. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Caroline Fairfield. From Boston." She held out her hand.
"Pleased to meet you ma'am." He shook her hand and hesitated. "Do you not wanna go back to Boston, ma'am?"
"Yes of course. It is my home but not for the reasons my uncle wants me to go." She sighed. "It's complicated and it's a situation I desperately need to find a solution to. And quickly."
The Kid nodded but didn't press for any further details. He stifled a yawn. "Excuse me ma'am. It's been a busy day and it's late. Can I show you where you can sleep?" He got up.
"Yes of course."
The Kid showed her the small bunkroom.
"You can use Joshua's bed. I'll make something up in the other room." He picked up the pillow and blanket from the other bunk.
"Oh no Mr Jones. I will not deprive you of your bed! This will be fine. I doubt I will sleep much anyway. I'm sure you'll be a perfect gentleman."
"Yes ma'am." He hesitated. "Well if you're sure ma'am? I am kinda tired."
"Perfectly sure, Mr Jones."
When the Kid woke the next morning, he was surprised to see someone in the other bunk. He frowned, trying to work out who it was. Then he remembered. Rolling onto his back, he put a hand over his eyes, chuckling gently at his foolishness.
"Something amusing, Mr Jones?"
He looked across at her. "I'm a bit slow in the morning ma'am. I was just wondering what had happened to Joshua in the night," he grinned.
Caroline smiled. "I expect I don't look anything like him."
"No ma'am." He paused. "He has brown hair."
They laughed gently together. Caroline was blond.
"Did you get any sleep?" he asked.
"Yes. I slept surprisingly well. I didn't think I would but I drifted off straight away. I must have felt comfortable. Thank you Mr Jones."
"No problem ma'am." He sat up. "Well best I get up and out of your way. Will you be all right here? On your own all day?"
"I'm sure I will be. Is there food in the house?"
"Yes ma'am. Joshua stocked the kitchen before he left. He said he didn't want me to starve."
"He sounds like a thoughtful friend. When is he due back?"
"Yeah he can be. He's back next week but he's not coming back here. He's gone and got himself married. He's on his honeymoon right now. In San Francisco."
"Oh so you'll be living here all by yourself from now on?"
"No ma'am. I'm waiting for him to get back and then I'll be moving on. I'm real pleased for him an' all. Mary is a great gal. But working in the livery stable ain't my idea of a career choice."
She smiled as he got up.
"You should have everything you need ma'am. I'll be back around six. I should know more 'bout the train by then."
Once the Kid had gone, Caroline got up. She made some quick ablutions in the kitchen sink and found something for breakfast. Then she set about exploring her home for the day. Along with Ivanhoe, which had reappeared, she found a Sherlock Holmes, a dictionary, a collection of love poems and a volume of American Science. She also found a Mark Twain novel "Life on the Mississippi". It was that she settled down to read, in between planning what her next move should be.
By the time the Kid got home, she had a plan. In addition, she had checked the store cupboard and had dinner on the go.
"Well I must say ma'am, this is a real improvement on Joshua's cooking," the Kid said, as he ate.
"He's not a good cook then?"
"Oh he's getting better," the Kid assured her. "Just not at any kinda speed. If you know what I mean?"
Caroline smiled. "And you Mr Jones are you a good cook?"
"No ma'am. I've been eating in the café most nights. Safer that way."
Caroline nodded and put her knife and fork together tidily on the plate, indicating she had finished.
"Mr Jones, I've been giving my situation some thought." She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the napkin, she had mysteriously found.
The Kid looked up in interest.
"I should explain a few things first, Mr Jones as my solution may involve you."
He frowned. "How so?"
"Well." She took a deep breath. "My father was Charles Fairfield, Mr Jones."
"I've heard of him."
"Most people have. He was a major shareholder in the railroads. He died a very wealthy man last year and he left everything to me, his only child." She paused. "My uncle, who you met, my late mother's brother, is trying to arrange a marriage for me to someone he can control so he can get his hands on the money. And of course I'm resisting that."
"Ain't there laws against that?" the Kid queried.
"Yes Mr Jones there are but they are so heavily biased in favour of the male they are worse than useless to me."
"But you reckon you have a solution?" The Kid looked doubtful. "That may involve me? I hope you're not thinking of anything illegal."
"Oh no Mr Jones." She looked shocked at the suggestion. "This would definitely be legal."
"Then I'm listening ma'am," he said, nodding.
"Well it occurred to me that my uncle is trying to marry me off because I'm still single. If I marry it should be to someone I choose don't you agree?"
"Yes ma'am," the Kid agreed. "That's the way things should be." Again, he wasn't sure where this was going.
"And if that was the case then my uncle would be defeated in his attempts to control my money. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yeah I reckon."
"Then Mr Jones will you marry me?"
