Far Away Home (16 page)

Chapter 15

By June’s end,
the landscape from Ogden to the Treasure Mountain camp had visually altered.
Beyond the Mormon farms that supplied the miners with fresh produce and meat
and Moran’s wide ranch, Aislynn could see the change. On the plain below the
heaving mountain, a stamp mill processing ore had been erected. Tents and
shacks dotted the level ground around the mill. Farther along the dusty road, a
crude sawmill sat close to the base of the hill. The camp road began its ascent
through a canyon then cut up into a broad cleavage on the southern face of the
mountain. Crowded against the road were tents, shacks of whipsawed boards and
log cabins serving as saloons, gambling dens, shops and stores. Their density
increased as the road rose closer to the mine. Behind the Main Street
buildings, brush-covered dugouts, tents and lean-tos were scattered on the
freshly timbered slopes of the mountain.

On the day Moran
arrived, nearly seventy miners were picking, drilling, blasting and shoveling
rock. In the tradition of most new camps, for every miner, four jobs were
created in the community. The camp hummed with over 250 people engaged in a
variety of occupations, and Aislynn was happy to serve meals to any and all.

Hanging wash on
the line Johnny had strung between the cabin and a tree made Aislynn sweat. She
returned to the washtub, sitting in the shade, full of cool rinse water. She
furtively searched the yard for prying eyes. On the front side of the lot,
Johnny banged at his forge; on the backside, over the brook, No Nose was
digging a root cellar deep in the earth.

Slipping off her
shoes, Aislynn raised her skirt and dipped her feet into the water. Balanced on
the edge of the tub, she swirled her legs and some coolness splashed up on her
thighs. With a wet rag, she wiped her face and neck. She unbuttoned her
shirtwaist and ran the rag over her chest. The water and the shade offered
relief from the heat.

Aislynn picked
up the bar of soap she used on their clothes and dipped it into the water. She
rubbed it with her fingers until it was sudsy and slowly blew across the
lather. After several tries, a renegade bubble broke away from the thick foam,
sliding off the edge of the soap, and taking flight on a slight current of air.
Aislynn’s eyes followed as it rose. The bubble drifted into the harsh sunlight
and popped. Its abrupt demise was expected but disappointing. As she pouted,
she thought she heard someone laugh. While she scanned the area, she scrambled
out of the tub, slipped on her shoes and lowered her skirt. She saw no one.

Aislynn called
to No Nose explaining she was going to the cabin and would be returning to the
restaurant. She stepped up on the porch and entered the cabin.

Inside, the
cabin stood dark and warm, holding the fresh smell of pine sap. Through the darkness,
she could discern a figure of a man silhouetted in the open front doorway.
Aislynn was blinking him into focus when she heard him query, “Miss Denehy?”

She recognized
the voice before she could clearly see him in the dim light. “Mr. Moran,
welcome. Do come in.” He removed his hat, bowed slightly and entered the single
room. In a few suspended seconds, his eyes ran over everything there was to
see. She followed his gaze as it swept the pump standing in the corner next to
the door. His eyes traveled to the table with its four mismatched chairs. The
back wall was decorated with shelves. Keeping with the fashion of the day,
Aislynn had lined them with lace. They displayed their meager treasures: books,
a china cup and a vase. Johnny’s trunk and a stove sat under the shelves. A
small glass window, also dressed in lace, hung in the west wall opposite its
twin in the east wall. Beyond the window, a ladder rose to the loft where
Johnny, Tim and No Nose slept. Aislynn’s cot lay tucked in the corner, surrounded
by an old, crocheted bedspread hanging from the rafters. For a moment, she
tried to assess their home through his eyes but decided she did not value his
perspective.

“This is cozy,”
he offered.

“We think it’s
wonderful,” she replied, sure his comment reflected his manners not his true
opinion.

“It feels like a
home.”

Bewildered,
Aislynn answered, “It is.”

They stood
silent while he appraised her. Aislynn decided to ignore his boldness and
offered him a seat and coffee. “I have sugar and skimmed milk,” she said. “I
save the cream for Johnny.”

He seemed
surprised by her comment. His eyes met hers directly, searching. Moran smiled
in his offhanded way and said, “Anyway is fine, thank you.”

He seated
himself in one of the mismatched chairs and placed his hat on another. Moran
examined the faded photos tacked on the wall over the table while Aislynn
placed their china cup before him and took the opposite seat.

Moran pointed to
the largest picture, “Who are these people?”

“Johnny’s
parents. This one is my mother and father.”

“They’re a very
handsome couple.”

“Thank you. I
didn’t really know her. Tim has shared so many stories of her; I think I have
memories, but I’m never sure if they’re mine or his.”

Moran’s eyes
softened, and he sipped his coffee. “Let me guess who these fine fellows are.”
The photo portrayed five boys and one baby girl. The girl was perched on the
smallest boy’s lap. Apparently struggling to keep her pointed at the camera,
the boy held the baby’s face in both his hands. “They must be the Nolan boys.
But who is this baby who does not seem to be obliging the photographer?”

Aislynn could
feel her face growing red. “Who do you think it is?”

“Some very
headstrong, little girl.”

“No,” Aislynn
objected. “A determined one.”

“Disobedient,”
he countered.

“Independent.”

“Well, it seems
little has changed. Mr. Nolan still has his hands full.”

Aislynn giggled
at the truth. Smiling, Moran leaned toward her. She could feel he had something
to say, but he pulled back and let it go. His eyes narrowed and the air filled
with accusation. “I was just at the mine office reviewing the books.”

Aislynn decided
on innocence. “Were you?”

“Yes. I noticed
some interesting entries.”

She smiled, her
eyes wide, her voice silent.

Scrutinizing
her, he added, “I thought we might clear up a few things.”

Aislynn weakened
under his hard gaze. She looked away and casually offered, “If you’re here for
the licensing fee you’re charging everyone running a decent business, I am
planning on paying it.”

“No. Actually I
am not here to dun you, but now that you’ve made the offer, I would be happy to
accept it.” As she exhaled her frustration and annoyance, he added, “Let that
be a lesson in business, Miss Denehy. Never make the first concession.”

She frowned,
angrier with herself than with him. Biting her lip, Aislynn attempted to keep
choleric words from shooting out.

He placed his
arm on the table and leaned closer to her. “You swindled me out of my
property.”

Aislynn took on
the air of righteousness. “I made an offer to Mr. Murphy, and he accepted it.”

“According to
Murphy, a very low offer and under some, shall I say, persuasive
circumstances?”

“If you have a
problem with the agreement, you should take it up with Mr. Murphy.”

“Such
treachery,” he charged. “I just did.”

“He was just
trying to be helpful.”

“With my land
and my money, $150 to be exact.”

His tone was
demeaning, and Aislynn was indignant. “It’s a loan, and I am paying it back.”

“I understand
it’s a loan, but he lent you my money.”

“He’s your
agent. There can’t be anything wrong with him making decisions for you.”
Aislynn stiffened.

“No, not unless
you look at it for what it might be considered, perhaps embezzling?” He seemed
to be amused with his comments.

“Goodness, it
was just a loan,” she declared.

“Simply a loan?”
Moran smiled as she squirmed in her seat.

“What are you
going to do? You can’t fire him. Oh, you’d be just mean enough to do such a
thing!”

His smile
disappeared. He looked at her without expression, “What have I done to make you
believe I’m mean?”

Aislynn wanted
to reel off a list of outrages; however she only had her prejudices.

She took a deep
breath and sighed, “Nothing, except all these threats you’ve come here with.”

“Threats?”

“Yes!”

“Hardly. I want
you to be aware that you are a landowner and a restaurateur because of me. And
the next time you need a favor, I want you to come to me directly. After all,
I’d enjoy a picnic alone in the woods with you myself.”

Aislynn could
feel her face burning with embarrassment. Unable to accept defeat, she rallied,
“I won’t be needing any more favors.”

“We’ll see.” He
slid the cup and saucer to the middle of the table and reached for his hat. He
rose and bowed slightly, “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll be coming by the
restaurant this evening. I do hope you’re serving fried chicken; I understand
it’s positively spellbinding.” He laughed out loud as he turned toward the
door. Aislynn opened her mouth to admonish him, when he spun to face her. “By
the way, I suggest you button up your bodice before you go over to the
restaurant. I can only hope you don’t display yourself for other men.”

Aislynn stomach
churned. She looked down and found her shirt open to her camisole. “Why didn’t
you say something?”

“And spoil my view?
You spend far too much time with the virtuous Mr. Nolan.”

“Oh, go you …
you rat.”

He backed out
the door, but through his laughter Moran said, “I look forward to seeing more
of you in the future.”

Chapter 16

Fourth of July
had special significance in the West. Although many men ventured into the
frontier for fortune, they also sought to escape the bonds of civility with its
rules, restrictions and restraints. In the West, freedom was attainable. It was
the land of rugged independence, and July the Fourth celebrated the ideal.

Aislynn, Johnny,
Tim and No Nose arrived at Moran’s celebration in time to watch the wranglers
demonstrate the skills they used herding cattle: riding, roping, tackling and
tying calves and steers. Not special enough to sit in the grandstand Moran had
erected for guests like Brigham Young, President of the Mormon Church, and
Leland Stanford, President of the Central Pacific Railroad, Aislynn and her
friends stood at the fence with the other commoners. Dust puffed up from the
riding and wrestling, coating Aislynn’s uniform of mourning: her white
shirtwaist with a black armband, black skirt and wide-brimmed straw hat tied
with a black ribbon. Following the show, four filthy wranglers raced to greet
Tim and meet Aislynn.

Spurs clanged,
chaps flopped and gloves flailed at their clothes as the men approached. Tim
had wintered with the men. As she watched them approach, Aislynn was astonished
to discover Tim had lived with a Negro. “In New York, everyone we know thinks
Negroes are people who take jobs from white folks. That’s not true, Aislynn.
They’re just like the rest of us, people trying to get by. Besides, not all are
former slaves. They’ve been here as long as whites; some came with the
explorers. Negroes have done the same things as whites, good and bad.” Tim
cautioned her. “I expect you to behave; he’s my friend.”

The black man
was named Buck; he was tall, powerfully built, a quiet man in his late
twenties. Jeb was shorter, sweet-faced, equally reticent and near Tim’s age, twenty-two
years old. Dollar Bill was older, perhaps thirty. He had a nose that appeared
to have been broken several times, many absent teeth and a name reflecting his
poor luck at gambling. Lank was tall, thin and talkative. When Tim introduced
the wranglers to his friends, he drew a moan from the men when he explained
Johnny was Aislynn’s fiancé.

“You din have to
bring your own man. Din Tim tell you we was all waitin’ here for you?” Lank
demanded.

“It must have
been an oversight,” Tim apologized.

The guests were
swarming toward tables set up under the few trees where lemonade and cookies
were being served. Lank led them to the back porch of the house, offering
Aislynn the only seat and some shade. To the group’s amusement, he rushed to
get her refreshments. Looking directly at No Nose, Tim and Johnny, she said, “I
could get used to such treatment.”

“We’ll see you
don’t,” Tim countered.

Lank told
Aislynn amusing stories about tenderfoot Tim. Not to be outdone, Tim had plenty
to say about Lank and the others. Amid the laughter, Moran emerged from the
back door of the house. “I knew there was someone special back here. I could
hear the chatter throughout the house. Miss Denehy,” he bowed toward her and
faced the men. “Boys.” He turned back to Aislynn. “You attract these men like
bees to honey. Have I ever mentioned to you that I, too, like honey?” A wicked
smile spread across his face, “Especially on fresh baked biscuits.”

Aislynn took a
deep breath and suppressed the harsh words pressing against her lips. She raised
her eyes and took a hard bite from her cookie.

Moran addressed
the wranglers. “Do you boys think Miss Denehy might be interested in the little
thing we have in our stable?”

“You like
horses, Miss?” Lank asked.

“Yes, I do.” She
gave Lank her sweetest smile.

Moran’s arm
waited in front of her face, “Allow me escort you.”

Slowly rising,
she lowered her eyes as she took his arm. Moran led her across the yard toward
the stable, and the men followed.

Aislynn had seen
Moran with a big-breasted, broad-hipped blonde dressed in a fine blue gown,
sporting a wide blue hat decked with red and white feathers. To Aislynn, the
woman, who spent the afternoon hanging from Moran’s arm, looked like a schooner
under full sail. “Thank you for inviting us to your celebration. We are having
a lovely time.” Aislynn hesitated for a moment before prying, “Did you plan
this entire affair yourself?”

“No, one of my
guests made the arrangements.”

“Which guest?”

Moran looked
down at her with the suspicious half-smile he frequently sent her. “Miss
Fairbanks. You may have noticed her. She is in the blue gown.”

Aislynn tossed
her nose in the air and lied, “No, but I will look for her and let her know
what a fine job she’s done.”

Moran cleared
his throat, “I’m sure she will appreciate your comments.”

“Why aren’t you
bringing her to the stable?”

“Miss Fairbanks
is not interested in anything residing in a stable,” Moran laughed.

They entered the
stable, and Aislynn wondered if Moran had just insulted her. The stable exhaled
heat and the smell of hay and horses. Moran led her through the dimness. As her
eyes adjusted, she saw him open the gate of one stall and sweep his hand before
her. On a bed of fresh hay, a tiny colt lay nestled against his mother.

A smile burst
across her face, and Aislynn sank to her knees. “Can I pet him?”

Crouching next
to her, Moran’s knee brushed her arm, “Of course.” He reached down and stroked
the colt’s neck. Aislynn touched his nose, and he lifted his head and dropped
it in her lap.

Aislynn glowed,
“He likes me.”

“He’s a smart
horse, a thoroughbred. In a few years, I’ll take him east and race him.”

“What’s his
name?”

Moran looked to
the wranglers. Lank answered for them, “He ain't got one.”

Moran shrugged,
“Why don’t you name him for me?”

“Can I?”

He nodded.

“Well, my
father’s horse was named Cuchulainn.”

Moran gave her a
curious look, “What a strange name.”

“Don’t you know
Cuchulainn?” She surveyed the group. Except for Johnny and Tim, the men looked
at her with curiosity. “Well, Cuchulainn was a mythical Irish hero. He was a
shape changer. When he went into battle, the shape of his body altered. He
became one being with his horse, a monstrous thing.” She raised her arms wide.
“He was never defeated.”

Her enthusiasm
gained their attention. “When my father was a young man in County Galway, he
would go to the beach and watch the wild ponies run. One day, a very special
horse appeared. He was bigger, stronger and more beautiful than any other. My
father decided to tame the horse and make it his own. Every day he brought a
treat to the beach to entice the horse closer and closer.” She beckoned them
with her hand. “Finally, the horse came close enough for Da to grab his mane
and hoist himself up on the horse’s back. Once mounted, Da said he felt magic
flow through him; he and the horse became one.”

The men murmured
their amazement. Aislynn leaned closer to the men and continued to spin her
tale. “Well, he raced the horse all over Ireland, from county to county, never
losing a race. They were undefeated just like the original Cuchulainn. Then, an
evil landlord accused Da of stealing the horse and put out a warrant. Da set
Cuchulainn free and escaped to America.” She straightened and took a breath.
“Da’s mother wrote to him and finished Cuchulainn’s story. It seems the landlord’s
men nearly captured the horse in a fenced field, but as they approached,
Cuchulainn ran and ran, so fast he flew away.”

Lank cut in,
“You sayin’ horses can fly?”

Aislynn’s eyes
raked over the men. “Perhaps.”

Buck leaned
toward her and whispered, “Maybe a magic horse?”

Warming to the
dark man, Aislynn nodded. “Maybe a magic horse.” She looked at Moran and tilted
her head to catch his admiring eyes. “That’s the tale that’s told.”

Moran beamed at
her, “And a fine tale it is.” He stroked the horse and addressed it, “So,
Cuchulainn, let’s hope you are undefeated, as well.” He stood and brushed off
his trousers, saying, “Perhaps you can ride him next year, Miss Denehy.”

He extended his
hand to her. Rising, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Moran, but I don’t know how to
ride.”

Moran shook his
head, “I’m sure you’ll find no shortage of instructors.” He bowed to Aislynn
and added, “I must return to my other guests. Enjoy the remaining events.”
Aislynn bit her lip, her eyes danced with excitement as she watched him leave
the stable until she caught Johnny’s frown.

She approached
Johnny. “What have I done?”

“Nothing. Except
we’ll be married by next year.”

Aislynn scowled,
“Don’t you think about anything else?”

“Don’t you think
of it at all? Married women shouldn’t ride horses, Aislynn. Why, you could lose
a baby before you even know you’re having one.”

Her cheeks
flashed red, “Don’t speak of such things, especially in public!”

“Nobody’s
listening,” Johnny groused.

Aislynn knew he
included her in his statement. “And nobody wants to discuss such a thing
either!”

The afternoon
continued with horse races. Moran invited everyone in the area to compete on
his track. It made for several heated races. The horses ran at speeds that made
her believe, quite possibly, they could fly. Aislynn declared she had never
seen anything as exciting. She understood why her father remembered his years
as a jockey so fondly.

A western
barbecue and dance followed. Aislynn busied herself trying to dance with each
of the men in her group. While she was spinning on the floor with No Nose,
Moran approached her companions with his lady friend on his arm. All the other
introductions had been completed when Aislynn and No Nose arrived. Breathless,
they greeted Moran.

“Miss Fairbanks,
this is No Nose Goodman.”

Her reply was
unexpected. “My goodness,” she cried, her hand rushing to her throat, “you
truly are shocking.”

Angry, Aislynn
stepped between No Nose and the repulsive woman. Moran made an obvious attempt
to ignore the offense. “And this lovely lady is Miss Aislynn Denehy.”

Aislynn eyes
narrowed. She stood stiff and erect, waiting.

“Oh, you’re the
little thing who crawled across the country in a wagon. I would never. It’s so
primitive.” The woman pointed her nose in the air and looked down at Aislynn,
“And you’re so … tiny. However did you endure such filthy, uncivilized
conditions?”

Aislynn cracked
her whip, “Sometimes pups are stronger than bitches.”

Miss Fairbanks
glared at Aislynn, her mouth hanging open. Moran’s eyes flew wide, and he
stammered, “Let’s go see Leland for a moment. He’s been wanting…” His voice
died away as he led her onto the crowded dance floor.

When she turned
to face her friends, she found them in a variety of contortions attempting to
stifle their laughter until Moran walked out of earshot. She took No Nose’s
face in her hands and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Lank spoke
first, “That a gal, Miss Denehy. Doan let that ol’ buzzard get the best of
you.” Congratulations spilled from everyone but Tim.

When the
laughter died, Tim asked her to dance. Aislynn had waited all day to be in his
arms. She could tell from his grip he was not proud or amused by her response.
Waltzing across the canvas floor rolled out over the dusty yard, Tim began his
lecture. “Aislynn, you do realize we all owe Mr. Moran a great deal. He’s my
employer, he gives Johnny work, and you know he could put you out of business.”

He had her
attention. “How?”

“If he were
spiteful, he could open a mess hall and feed his miners for free. As you’ve
seen today, he can afford to give away food.”

Aislynn sniffed,
“Miners aren’t my only customers.”

“Are you
listening?”

“Yes, I
understand. I just don’t like it.”

“What is it
between you two? You usually make friends so easily. Tonight notwithstanding,
it seems an effort for you to simply be polite to him.”

“There’s
something about him.” Aislynn shook her head, wanting to shake off the subject.

“What is it?”

Aislynn
squirmed, “He just makes me uncomfortable.”

Tim stopped
dancing, “Has he done… something to you?”

She understood
his meaning. “Heavens, no.” Aislynn smiled at his concern and pulled him back
into the dance. “I don’t even know why.” She leaned closer to him and
whispered, “If you want, I’ll try harder.”

“That’s my
girl.”

His handsome
face glowed in the light of the torches surrounding the dance floor. Under the
dark sky, the smell of burning pine floated through the air. The music of
guitars, fiddles and horns drifted past their ears. As she moved in step with
Tim, she forgot about Moran. She closed her eyes and felt him solidly in her
grasp.
This is why I came here, to be with Tim and to enjoy his love.

With a pause in
the music, they edged off the dance floor. Tim placed his hands on her
shoulders and spun her around. “There,” he said. Aislynn could see Moran
speaking to a short, round man in a wrinkled suit. As the man drifted away, Tim
gave her a push.

“Why, Miss
Denehy, are you without a partner?” Moran wore his mocking half smile as he
tilted his head toward her.

“No, sir.” The
“sir” brought him up straight. “I just wanted to ask you to apologize to Miss
Fairbanks for me.”

“Apologize? She
was the rude one.” His eyes reached over her head and rested on the spot where
she had left Tim. “You know, Miss Denehy, you will never be happy if you do
things just because someone else wants you to do them.”

Aislynn turned
and caught Tim smiling his approval. Inching away from Moran, she, “Well, I
guess it depends on what makes you happy.”