Antebellum BK 1 (56 page)

“
You are aware that this railroad is entirely unsafe, aren’t you?” Nancy asked, as the baggage train pulled out toward the Pacific and the passenger train began to pull in slowly to replace it at the platform. “Hundreds of people were killed two years ago when this very train derailed. A reporter from one of the daily papers at home was a survivor. The story he wrote was chilling.”

“
I remember reading his story, but the pine railroad ties that caused the accident have all been replaced with some kind of very hard wood. It can’t happen again.”

The passenger engine in front of the platform lurched violently, sending a noisy chain reaction through the coupled rail cars that caused a few startled gasps and squeals from the waiting passengers.

“
See what I mean?” Nancy pointed. “I think we should find another, safer, more suitable method of crossing the Isthmus.”

Anna shrugged. “There are only two methods of crossing, Nancy: The Panama Railway or the Camino Real.”

“
I suppose you’re about to tell me why this train is superior to the road,” Nancy said with disdain.

Anna was very obviously trying to control her temper. “The first half of the Camino Real route’s via the Chagres River in native dugouts, not on a road. During the rainy season, which is now, the Chagres is said to be a raging torrent of whitewater through jagged rocks. The last twenty-odd miles are by mule over ancient Spanish trails that were dug by hand into sheer cliff sides hundreds of years ago. The trip can take over a week.”

“
Getting to the Pacific in a week is a good deal better than being crushed by tons of steel and left for the ants and scavengers in some remote tropical valley.”

“
Fine,” Anna said angrily. She opened her pocketbook and found the Panama Railway envelope. “I’m taking this train.” She pointed at the string of passenger cars. “You can go by mule or walk, for all I care.” Anna handed Nancy one of the two train tickets. “Don’t throw that away, it cost twenty-five dollars.”

“
Twenty-five dollars for a fifty-mile train trip? That’s highway robbery.”

“
What I paid for it is none of your business.” Anna joined the line of people who were beginning to board the train.

Nancy got in line behind her. “You were the one that brought it up, not I.”

“
You’re right. Throw the ticket away if you want.”

“
Don’t you think that twenty-five dollars is too much, Anna? That’s a half dollar per mile.”

“
I can do the arithmetic, thank you.”

“
I’ll remember that the next time you want me to add a column of figures for you.”

“
I’ll wait for you in San Francisco until the first of July,” Anna said. “If you’re not there by then, I’ll go on to Utah without you.”

“
Why are you being so snotty?” Nancy asked.

“
Because you’ve done nothing but complain since we left,” Anna said as she neared the front of the line.

“
What have I complained about?”

“
The
Central America’s
staterooms were too small and had no private bath. The first-class dining room was too small and cheaply decorated. The menu was lacking. There was a constant smell of coal smoke. Should I go on?”

“
They were all valid complaints.”

“
Perhaps they were – if you’d been complaining to the ship’s company, but you kept whining to me and I’m sick and tired of it.” Anna gave her ticket to the conductor and stepped into the vestibule.

“
Bitch,” Nancy shouted.

“
Are you boarding, Madam?” the conductor asked politely.

Nancy glared at him. “What?”

“
There are people behind you waiting to board,” he said. “If you don’t wish to board now, please step aside.”

“
Uh…” Nancy hesitated, handed him the ticket, and then looked behind at the impatient faces. “I’m sorry.”

June
24, 1857

Panama

A
nna and Nancy hadn’t spoken since the confrontation at Aspinwall. After arriving in Panama, both had tried to obtain separate staterooms aboard the
SS Golden Gate
, but the first-class cabin was full, and neither of the women was willing to travel in second-class while the other was accommodated in a first-class stateroom.

When the maid had finished the unpacking and left them alone, Anna went into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, leaving Nancy standing in the small sitting room.

“
I’m going to need my clothes and things to dress for dinner,” Nancy shouted as the ship began to make way.

“
The door’s open,” Anna called back in an equally loud voice.

“
I’d like a little privacy, if you please.”

“
Then get your clothes and change out there.”

“
There’s no dressing table out here.”

“
That’s not my problem.”

Someone pounded on the bulkhead. “Hey hold it down, over there,” a male voice shouted. “Yer not the only people on this tub.”

Nancy giggled.

“
What’s so funny?”

Nancy walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. “Tonight we should put on a show for him.”

“
For who?”

“
For that man next door.”

“
What kind of show?”

“
Moans and groans and squeals of passion.”

Anna laughed. “You’re so depraved.”

Nancy wrinkled her nose. “I know.”

Anna moved over to give Nancy room to lie down. “I don’t know about you, but after fighting with you I was too upset to sleep last night and now I’m dead tired.”

Nancy began unbuckling her shoes. “We shouldn’t fight. After all these years we should know when to back away.”

“
Believe me, I gave you as much room as I could manage, but you were being impossible.”

“
I know I was.” Nancy nodded. “I’ve been worried about seeing Robert. Guilt’s just weighing me down.”

“
Any better now?”

“
No, but I’ll keep it to myself.” She stretched out beside Anna. “Wake me if you decide to go to dinner.”

“
I think I’ll sleep the clock ‘round.”

“
That’d be okay too.” She held up her hand and Anna took it.

July 5, 1857

San Francisco, California

N
ancy pushed her way through the debarking passengers and ran into her husband’s arms. “Oh, what a wonderful surprise.” She kissed him and clung to his neck.

“
What are you doing here?” Anna demanded.

Robert extracted himself from Nancy’s crushing embrace and put his arm around her to face his sister. “I’m going home. And so are you.”

“
No we’re not,” Anna replied. “At least I’m not. You and Nancy can do whatever you wish, but I have an assignment.”

“
Brigham Young declared martial law in the territory and he’s denying access to the Territory.”

“
He doesn’t have the power; he’s not the governor anymore,” Anna said.

“
If you know that for a fact, you’re the only person out here that does,” he replied.

Anna looked uncertain. “President Buchanan hasn’t sent Young’s replacement?”

“
No, but it doesn’t really matter,” Robert said. “Brigham Young controls the Territory with his militia, and he’s reported to have signed a treaty with the Utes giving them permission to attack anyone trying to enter Utah through any of the passes.” He looked around. “Where’s your baggage?”

“
They said we could pick it up at the terminal,” Nancy said.

“
They gave us these.” Anna handed him several baggage claim checks.

He thumbed through them. “I have a coach hired, but it won’t be able to carry all this. Maybe we could leave some of the trunks in storage.”

“
Why not have the hotel pick up the luggage?” Nancy asked.

Robert shook his head. “Every hotel is full. I rented us two adjoining bedrooms in a rooming house about ten miles from here.”

Nancy made a face.

“
It’s very nice,” Robert said defensively. “The woman who owns the house is a widow and she treats her tenants like guests.”

“
You and your widows,” Nancy said.

“
This one’s about seventy,” Robert replied.

“
I can’t understand why the President hasn’t replaced Brigham Young,” Anna said, going back to the original subject.

“
Sometime in the next few days, Captain Stewart Van Vliet’s supposed to start for Salt Lake City from Kansas carrying a letter from General Harney or the President,” Robert said.

“
How do you know that?” Anna asked.

“
I still have a lot of friends at the Presidio,” Robert replied. “Jack was the military governor with his headquarters here until he resigned. He was well liked by everyone.” He took Anna’s arm. “You must be tired after that long trip. Let’s see about your luggage and get you settled.”

July 29, 1857

Rancho San Leandro, California

A
nna and Nancy were sitting on a bench in the garden of Josephina Ward’s comfortable adobe ranch house.

“
You’re going to drive your husband away if you don’t do something to overcome this funk that you’re in, Nancy.”

Nancy closed her eyes. “I know.”

“
If you’d tell me what’s bothering you, maybe I could help.”

Nancy sighed and nodded. “You’ll laugh when I tell you.”

“
I doubt that.”

Nancy turned and looked at her. “Clementine.”

Anna gave her a baffled look and shook her head.