Epilogue - September 1882

The sun shone bright overhead, glinting off the black metal of the steaming locomotive. People bustled everywhere on the platform around her – seeing their luggage to a porter, saying farewells to loved ones, checking their tickets with the cabin conductors. She couldn't help but smile as she took it all in.

They were going to Chicago. At last. Finally! She'd heard Lew speak of it on and off over the years – the luxury of it with delicious food, ever-flowing wine, and theaters galore. It had always sounded so fanciful, so fairy tale. But now she was actually going. They all were.

She looked over to Ron as he stood discussing the arrangement of their trunks with the porter. He'd been surprisingly insistent on seeing to a whole new wardrobe for both of them for this trip – traveling suits, clothes for afternoon promenade, theater and dinner attire. It had been a whirlwind of fabric and fittings and accidental pin stickings, but it had been exciting.

He looked dashing in the late morning light in his dove gray traveling suit and dark hat, nodding as he handed over a tip to the porter. Of course, she looked equally handsome in her dark green wool traveling dress, adorned with matching green velvet accents. Together, they cut a fine picture across the platform in their day attire. But if she were being honest, she most looked forward to seeing her husband decked out in his white tie and evening jacket. Or perhaps, more accurately, she looked forward to peeling her husband out of those clothes at the night's end.

Despite the warmth from the sun soaking into the wool of her dress, she shivered at the chill in the Colorado September breeze. She tucked her hands tighter inside her fox fur muff, smiling at Ron as he walked over.

"Are we all set?" She asked, face lit with excitement.

"We are all set. He wanted to confirm our transfer in Kansas City."

"Kansas City." Even that sounded like a foreign dreamland to her. "Will we have any time to see the sights of Kansas City?"

His nose wrinkled with a hint of disgust. "There's nothing to see in Kansas City – it's just a cattle town, so don't let the name fool you."

"It just sounds fancy. Like – like New York City!"

He chuckled softly. "Those are two very different cities."

"Have you ever been to New York City?"

"Twice, I think. Decades ago. I was very young."

"Decade…," she furrowed her brow, "a decade is ten years, right?"

"Yes." His eyes softened with warm affection as he held his arm out. "We should probably board. Wouldn't want to miss it."

"Of course not!" She pulled a hand free of her muff, looping her arm with his as they started for the train car. "What about the others?"

"They're not too far behind."

"What if they miss it?"

"I suspect they'd rather have a delayed timetable than risk the fuss Mr. Nixon would raise if the train left without them."

She snickered quietly, tramping down on it as they approached the round-faced conductor who smiled amicably. "Ah, good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Speirs!"

"Good morning, Henry." Ron said, handing over their set of tickets.

"Thank you, sir. So pleased to see that you're traveling with us again." The man's eyes widened in surprise as he looked over the documents. "Chicago, my goodness. Have you been before, sir?"

"Once. I look forward to introducing the city to Mrs. Speirs."

"Oh my, yes! Madam – I have no doubt that you will enjoy the finest that Chicago has to offer." He punched their tickets, holding them back out. "Just don't go falling so in love with the place that you convince him to move away now!"

"Oh, I don't think so," she said with a demure smile, "not with the success of the company here."

"Very good, madam. Please." He stepped aside with a grand gesture, holding out a hand for her. "Please do mind the step and make yourselves comfortable. I'll come around after we depart to offer beverages."

She accepted his hand with a polite nod of thanks, stepping up in the well appointed interior of the First Class train car. A few other gentlemen and couples were scattered about the plush benches and armchairs, but she spotted a cluster of seats suitable for four towards the front of the car. Ron followed close behind, taking her hand in a gentle hold as she eased to sit on the bench. He drew her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss to her knuckles as the light caught in the bright blue sparkling gem on her wedding band.

Everyone in town said that old mine had nothing to offer. That men had tried for years, toiled endlessly for nothing but piles of worthless rocks. Apparently,everyone else had given up too soon. With one fortuitous fall through those floorboards, they had discovered a vast deposit of aquamarine stone. A deposit deep enough and rich enough to justify a proper name, a proper operation. A proper company.

"How about we call it the Lily Martin Mining Company." Lew said.

"Well, I don't intend to be a 'Martin' for much longer."

Lew hummed. "If it's not presumptuous, could just as easily call it the Lily Speirs."

Her fiancé shrugged. "Why not simply call it the Lily Jo?"

With that, the Lily Jo Mining Company had been born and continued to produce enough aquamarine to see them all comfortably situated for years to come. It shouldn't have surprised her – but it did – when the simple gold wedding band that she'd always dreamed of showed up on the wedding day adorned with a flawless, polished aquamarine gemstone.

Ron always did have a good eye for nice things.

And now it was time to celebrate. Ron had said that Chicago would be a fine place for a honeymoon. Lew had promised to take Dick to Chicago for years. Would there ever be a better time?

Lew swept into the train car with breezy movements, equally bedecked in a smart traveling suit. "Trying to leave without us, I see."

He had never looked so happy as he had in these past two years. Of course, when he finally told her why, she had squealed with joy and wrapped him in the biggest of hugs. Dick stood quietly by while she gushed about her happiness for them, but even he hadn't escaped a joyful embrace. Ron didn't find out right away, but when the news was finally put to him, he wasn't surprised.

It still brought a smile to her face.

"We weren't trying to leave without you." She said, glancing up at Lew. "Mr. Speirs just remarked that they would likely risk a delayed timetable over the fuss you would raise if the train departed."

Lew looked at Ron with a skeptical look, as if trying to decide if he should take that as a compliment or an insult. "Hm, never knew you cared so much, Sparky."

Ron didn't flinch at the drop of the nickname. "Did you get everything settled with Mr. Lipton?"

"Yes, he should have no trouble while we're away seeing to the company – either of them."

She still found it comforting that the familiar faces from the saloon – Roe, Gaurnere, Luz, and others – were still gainfully employed, doing what Dick had all hired them for. The Easy Company was still alive and well within the newly minted Lily Jo Mining Company, still setting out on the trail to help the victims of injustice as word was spread. Fortunately for her and the newlywed Mrs. Lipton, both Ron and Carwood received roles that kept them daily at the mine and off the trail.

Ron nodded gently. "Did Liebgott and Webster get away alright this morning?"

Lew's smile held a distinctively mischievous edge as he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "No. Apparently, they lit out for Cheyenne late last night, trying to get a jump on things."

"Clever of them."

"At each other's throats like wildcats, though."

"It keeps the trail conversation lively."

Lew's only response with an amused chuckle.

She licked her lips, looking around the train car. "Where's Mr. Winters?"

"You know him, the old fusspot," Lew teased, "he was discussing the transfer in Kansas City with the porter. Confirming he knew which trunks went where."

"Even Mr. Speirs saw to that." She looked up proudly at her husband. "You shouldn't judge Mr. Winters for it."

"I don't think anyone on this earth can rightly judge Mr. Winters." Lew dropped to sit, struggling to hide a wince as he settled against the armchair. It brought a sly smile to her face as she caught his eye.

Ron chuckled ever so softly. "Sleep poorly?"

Lew glared up at him. "Don't get clever."

Ron's face held nothing contrite or innocent. "I only asked if you slept poorly."

"Well, whether I did or didn't will be of no consequence by the time we put in to Chicago."

She smiled, eyes bright with excitement. "What's the name of the hotel, again, Mr. Nixon?"

"The Virginia Hotel."

"Oh yes." She remembered now. "I still don't understand why it's the Virginia Hotel in Chicago, Illinois which is not in Virginia."

Ron moved to sit beside her on the bench. "I think it might be named after the owner's wife. But as I recall, my father preferred to stay at Hotel Richelieu, so I can't say for sure."

It still amazed her each time Ron dropped a fact from his childhood. Part of her couldn't understand why he had left that world – his upbringing and lifestyle sounded just as comfortable as what Lew was accustomed to. She could only guess it was the age-old adage that money couldn't buy happiness that had lead both men away from that side of the country.

But as the Chicago trip loomed ever closer, both Ron and Lew seemed to enjoy comparing the tales of what they each knew from their previous travels.

Nixon shook his head, indulgent. "Oh, the Virginia Hotel is far more exclusive. Private. And centrally-located. Superb access to the best theaters, to say nothing of the Opera House."

"What's this about an opera?" Everyone turned to look at Dick as he took the armchair next to Lew. "I didn't think we were going to an opera."

"Well, we might." Lew said. "I don't think our schedule is so full that we couldn't entertain it some night."

Lily looked between them with an excited smile. "I don't even know what an opera is."

"There you see? That settles it." Lew looked to Dick with a sidelong glance. "Now we'll have to take in an opera."

Dick hummed. "So long as we can still catch a White Stockings game."

Ron scowled. "The White Stockings?"

"Chicago's premier baseball club." Dick said, face alight. "Saw an article about them years ago. Always wanted to go to a game."

Lew sighed, an indulgent sound. "The games at Yale were never that enthralling, but I know how much it'll mean to you. Of course, we'll find an afternoon and go to a game. All of us."

First opera? Now baseball?

She tucked her hand back in her muff with a giddy, gleeful smile as the train whistle sounded.

What other wonders awaited them in Chicago and beyond?

Fin


Here, at last, we come to the end - and it didn't take me six years! Many, many thanks to everyone who read this journey. I thoroughly enjoyed researching & writing & spinnin' this yarn - and it's my thorough hope that you enjoyed it, too. Now it's time for a belt of good 'ol frontier whiskey.

Cheers till next time, y'all!

-MidnightB