Chapter Seventy-Six
Shiloh stood on the platform at Promontory and looked around her. For being such a famous place, she thought it was…rather unremarkable. Stark, in fact. Disreputable. She saw mostly shanties and a tent city. The hotel was one of the better shacks. She jumped when one of the Pinkertons loudly cleared his throat behind her.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Cartwright. You should stay in your car. This is a pretty rough town."
"Yes, I can see that," she said with a wide smile. "But I need to send a telegram."
"If you'll write it out, I'll make sure it gets sent," said the Pinkerton.
She nodded and stepped back onto Crocker's car in time to see her two youngest in their nightgowns, laughing with their faces plastered to the windows where a Chinese man was making faces at them before he was hauled away…by a Pinkerton. Shiloh smiled at the sound of laughter but went into the small bedroom to retrieve some paper, pen and an ink well to write Adam a short letter.
Adam Cartwright
c/o Slater & Cartwright
95 Montgomery
San Francisco, California
Hello from Promontory, My Love.
Mr. Crocker's two cars will be switched to the Union Pacific line before we continue. We are all well. Even our precious Anna, who has been fixed on working her first puzzle, though she still has her moments of missing her daddy. Aaron was a bit upset the first day, but he is mostly happy now. Amalee and I are resting well.
We will be in Cheyenne soon, and there have been rumors moving about the train that there have been several Indian attacks and one robbery up the line. Pray for us that we will not have to endure such a thing.
Give Beau my love and tell him I will miss him sorely if he does not come to New York.
Give Abel a hug and kiss from his mother, and tell him I love him and cannot wait to see him again. Sing to him. Especially at bedtime.
I think of you every minute of every day, my love. I miss you. I love you. I am counting the days until we are together again.
All my love,
Shiloh
Next, she wrote a much shorter telegram.
Adam Cartwright
c/o Slater and Cartwright
95 Montgomery
We are well. Anna and Aaron miss you, as do I. We are at Promontory, heading toward Cheyenne where there has been trouble on the line. Pray for us. Letter to follow.
With undying love from a woman who is happy to be your wife. Shiloh
After addressing an envelope, slipping the letter inside and sealing it with a wax stamp, Shiloh folded the telegram. She rummaged through her reticule for two gold pieces, then went back out on the platform where the Pinkerton she had spoken to earlier waited patiently.
"If you would post this letter and send the telegram, I would be eternally grateful." Holding the two gold pieces between her fingers, she held them out ready to drop them in his hand.
The Pinkerton looked at her and smiled. "Mr. Crocker is paying for everything you need, including the cost of telegrams and postage, Mrs. Cartwright."
Shiloh's mouth opened, but slowly closed. She thought for moment before she chose her next words. "I shall thank him the next time I see him, which I presume will be sooner than I anticipated."
Chuckling, the Pinkerton said, "Mr. Crocker is planning to attend some of your performances in New York."
She smiled brilliantly and slightly nodded. "Thank you." Once back inside the car, Shiloh looked out a window and watched the Pinkerton disappear into what she thought of as a swarm of the worst example of humanity.
"Mrs. Cartwright, is everything all right?" asked Amalee, seeing the concentration on Shiloh's face as she looked out the window.
Without turning away from the window, Shiloh said, "Everything is fine, Amalee. I'm afraid I expected Promontory to be different…cleaner." Taking a deep breath and looking back at her children, she said, "Shall we prepare breakfast?"
XXXXXXXX
"And just where were you standing when you made your decision, Al?" asked Adam with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face as he stood before the mayor and Alfred Kelley.
Kelley scratched his forehead. "Right next to the crack in the wall, Cartwright."
"So, you didn't go into the building?"
"No need. It's just a crack. We can take down the corner and rebuild it without affecting the rest of the building."
"Adam, Mr. Kelley's already given me an estimate." He shoved a piece of paper across his desk toward Adam. "Can you beat it?"
Robert stepped up to the desk. "It doesn't matter if he can beat it. We have a contract. And we've never been unreasonable in any of our city work, so there's no reason to assume we will now."
"Al, did you have your engineer look at the building?" asked Adam.
"As I said," said Kelley, "there was no need. It's just a damn crack."
Adam shook his head and calmly countered, "No, it's not." Turning to the mayor, Adam said, "It's apparent looking at the outside wall that the problem started deeper in the ground. The original building plans don't show the elevation of the ground was raised, but when I went down into the cellar, I stood on the floor at the crack and the floor sank. The dirt in the sunken part of the floor crumbles…like sand."
Kelley rolled his eyes. "You're not trying to sell the mayor that the city hall is on made ground, are you?"
"No, not the entire building," said Adam. "Maybe just that back corner. But we'll have to check the entire back of the building to be sure."
"If it really is made ground how would you fix it?" asked Mayor McCoppin.
"We'll have to dig down to see how far it is to bedrock, then we'll go in to the edge of the building with supports, and keep adding supports as we dig until we get to solid ground," said Adam. "Then we'll back fill with rock and hold that in with a wall. "But whoever put up that building originally should have told someone with the city part of it would be on made ground. They should have at least sunk a support wall down to bedrock so it wouldn't slip when the ground shakes. I'm guessing this isn't the original crack we're seeing. The building probably had a slight crack after the first significant quake and then with each subsequent quake the crack grew until it was big enough for the corner to fail."
"And what about the building?" asked the mayor. "How do you fix it?"
"As Mr. Kelley said, the crack is too severe to fix. That corner will have to come down and be rebuilt," Adam replied.
"So, once you get the ground and foundation supported, is the crack so difficult that Mr. Kelley's men can't handle it?"
"No sir. "It's not," answered Adam, furrowing his brows.
Mayor McCoppin stood and looked out the window in his parlor. "Robert, the city hired your company for your design and engineering expertise…and your inspection services. I'd like to split this contract so we can keep as many men working as possible. Mr. Kelley says he has men out of work at the moment."
Turning to Kelley, Robert asked, "How is that possible? There's work all over the city."
"Yes, and most of it requires some structural expertise with some unusual engineering. Our engineer learned his trade as an apprentice. You've had university training, and you keep up with new structural technics. You've been getting the majority of the work," answered Kelley.
"Al, you should have come to us if you had a problem keeping your men working," said Adam. "With the work we have outside the city, we could have sent some of the work in the city your way."
"And why would you do that?" asked Kelley. "You're growing into the largest engineering firm in the city. And rumor has it you're looking to become national."
When Adam gave Robert a sidelong look, Robert shrugged and addressed the mayor. "Mayor, I assure you, we have plenty of work to send some Kelley's way. You should never have been bothered with this. We're not looking to be come so big we exclusively take over the development of the city."
"That's good to hear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave the details to you men and get on with taking care of the rest of the city. Good day, Gentlemen."
Robert turned back to Kelley. "Al, why don't you meet us at our office at noon. We'll discuss this over lunch."
"I'll be there," answered Kelley, tipping his hat and leaving the mayor's office.
At the office, Bart got Adam's attention just as he stepped in the door. "There's a telegram for you on your desk." Bart had looked up briefly, but now looked up and furrowed his brows. "Do we have a new trainee?"
Adam snorted. "I don't know yet. He hasn't made up his mind. Bart, this is my son, Beau. Beau, Bart, one of our architects. Over there," Adam said, pointing, "is Terry, another of our architects."
Both men looked warily at Adam, then nodded to Beau and bowed their heads to their work.
"They'll get used to you." Adam opened the door of his office and waved Beau in. "Shall we?" Stepping around his desk," he continued as he picked up the envelope on this desk. "You have a couple of choices. You can go to lunch with Robert and me or you can stay here and look at Roman and Greek architecture."
"Can I take a walk around San Francisco? So far, I don't see a difference between this and Boston."
"If you do take a walk, stay within a couple of blocks of the office," said Adam, looking up from his bowed head. "I don't want to lose you to a crimp. We'll never see you again."
Beau laughed, but at Adam's rather severe expression, he cut his laugh short. "You're not joking, are you?"
With a serious glare and the rise of one eyebrow, Adam said, "No, I'm not."
"Then maybe I should go with you to lunch. Who knows? I could learn something. At the smile that graced his father's lips, Beau said, "Maybe you could point me in the direction of the Greeks and Romans."
Adam looked up, realizing that Beau was trying to be polite. He walked to the door. "Bart, would you show Beau our ancient architecture library."
"Sure thing, Adam," Bart replied as he pushed away from his drawing table. "This way, Beau."
Once both young men were out of his office, Adam sat down and read Shiloh's telegram. He was still reading when Robert opened his door.
"Now, that's a scowl. Is something wrong with Shiloh's travels?"
"Only train robbers and angry Indians," Adam growled. Knowing there was nothing he could do, Adam said, "She has her rifles and…" His eyes grew wide. "…an abundance of Pinkertons."
At the lines of worry across Adam's forehead, Robert said, "Well, Pinkertons, especially in abundance, should be enough, don't you think?"
