Westward the Dream (6 page)

6

“It isn't much to look at,” Kiernan told Victoria as they surveyed Dutch Flat.

“Looks like most of the other mining towns we've lived in or around,” Victoria replied.

He stopped and looked at his young wife. She had once worn beautiful party clothes and known a life much easier than this one. Her hands, now callused and scarred from heavy work, were once smooth and soft. He hated knowing that he had taken her from that life. That he alone had been responsible for bringing her west and losing her fortune. He had only been able to see the possibility of being his own man, of earning enough to bring his family from Ireland to America, and of supporting the woman he loved without using her inheritance to see them through.

He felt a deep, abiding sorrow that she suffered for his choices. He knew what it was to live his life in a tent. He knew what it was to go hungry. But she didn't, and she shouldn't have had to know. He had taken her away from security and plunged her into the heart of all that threatened to destroy them. They were barely eating and had only the tent to keep them out of the elements, but of late the snows and rains had left them both chilled to the bone and sickly.

She tried not to complain, and for this Kiernan was grateful. His own conscience defeated him on a daily basis; there was no need for her to add her condemnation.

“Where are we supposed to find this man?” Victoria questioned, breaking into Kiernan's thoughts.

“He's the town druggist. I'd imagine we should try over there.” He pointed to a false-front building that had crude writing to announce “Medicines, Doctoring, and Help for What Ails You.”

Victoria pulled her shawl tight around her wool coat. “I suppose you're right. Maybe they'll have a fire.”

Kiernan urged their pack mule forward, praying that he hadn't once again led them astray. Victoria seemed to sense his mood and reached over to pat his arm.

“Don't worry,” she said. “There seems to be plenty going on in this town. If this man can't use your help, you're bound to find something else just as useful.”

“I hope so.”

They tied the mule to a crude hitching post, then entered the building and waited a moment while their eyes adjusted to the poorly lighted room. Every imaginable space in the room was taken up with some article. Jars lined the wall behind the counter and were marked with both legible and illegible wording. The counter itself was piled high with a variety of goods, including items of clothing and unmarked bottles of amber liquid, while mining equipment and tools hung on the walls.

“You lookin' for something in particular?” a rough voice called out. From behind a curtained doorway, a good-sized man emerged.

“I'd be lookin' for a gentleman by the name of Strong. I was told he could use help surveyin'.”

“I'm Daniel Strong,” the man replied. “Folks round here generally call me ‘Doc,' seeing as how I doctor their injuries and prescribe their medicine.”

Kiernan extended his hand. “I'm Kiernan O'Connor and this is me wife, Victoria.”

“Irish?” Strong questioned.

“Aye, I am. She's not,” Kiernan replied evenly, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that a problem?”

The man continued to eye them for a moment. “Not at all. Is it a problem for you that I'm not?”

Kiernan relaxed and smiled. “I wouldn't be here if it was.”

Strong laughed. “You both look half froze to the bone. Whereabouts you come in from?”

“We hiked over from Tahoe City. My mule's outside with our goods.”

“And you came looking for surveyin' work? You have any experience?”

“Aye, that I do,” Kiernan replied. “Me wife's father helped survey for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. He trained me. I've put down rail, blasted tunnels, and mucked out canals. I know a bit about railroads and heard tell ya were thinkin' to put one through to the East.”

Doc Strong smiled. “That we are. Why don't you and the missus come on in the back with me. I've got someone I want you to meet.”

Kiernan looked at Victoria and gave her a weak smile. At least it wasn't a rejection. Not yet. He would tell the man about his abilities and pray for God's hand in the matter. There had to be some manner of decent work for a man such as himself who wasn't afraid of hard work.

“Ted, this young man wants to help us with our railroad,” Doc announced as they entered a small back room.

A rough-looking table had been set with mugs of coffee and a tray of sweet rolls. Kiernan thought nothing in the world had ever looked better. His stomach growled loudly, but he tried to ignore his own hunger and drew Victoria closer. A man and woman sat on the opposite side of the table, and as the man rose to his feet, he smiled and extended his hand.

“I'm Theodore Judah, but most folks just call me Ted. This is my wife, Anna.”

The woman smiled and turned to look at Victoria. “Child, you look so cold. Come sit here by the stove and get warm. Doc, let's have some hot coffee for these children.”

Kiernan liked her immediately, even if she implied that they were children. He returned her smile. “Thank you.” He watched the woman, though a complete stranger, instinctively mother Victoria, and he felt for the first time in a long while that all would be well.

“It seems fate has brought this young man to our doorstep,” Doc said, plunking down two more mismatched mugs. Anna reached out to pour the coffee while he continued. “Mr. O'Connor here has experience in railroading.”

“Is that so?” Ted replied.

Kiernan nodded but said nothing. Instead, he studied the man across the table. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Not much older than Kiernan himself. He had brown hair and dark, active eyes that seemed not to miss anything in his surroundings. His thick, full beard and moustache hid away the serious slant of his mouth, but his expression showed great interest, and this encouraged Kiernan.

“I worked on the Baltimore and Ohio back east,” Kiernan finally said. Anna handed him a steaming cup and did likewise with Victoria. Kiernan thought nothing had ever smelled or looked so good. The coffee was strong and black, unlike the watered-down variety he and Victoria had been sharing.

“We were just about to partake of some further refreshment,” Anna told them. “Would you care to join us?” She didn't wait for their affirmation, but rather acting the part of hostess for the group, she put a sticky bun on the table beside each person. “We don't stand on formalities around here,” she said with a smile. “Doc's lucky to have enough cups to go around. I shan't dream of bothering him for plates.”

“Good thing, too,” Doc said with a laugh.

“We were just planning to take a trip out to the Donner Pass. We've surveyed much of the area in hopes of building a railroad,” Ted told him. “Why don't you join us? It will give us a chance to get to know each other better and see if we like the idea of working together.”

“I have to work at something,” Kiernan told the men. “I don't have much left in reserve.” It was a matter of pride to admit this, but Kiernan felt it the right thing to do.

“Well, I can't pay you much to start,” Ted Judah said thoughtfully. “That is, if we decide on hiring you.”

Doc chimed in about this time. “You can sweep out the store and help me keep it in order while we're working to figure this out. I can't pay much, either, but it'll keep you fed.”

“It's generous, you are,” Kiernan replied.

“Nonsense,” Doc said, chuckling. “Ted is keeping me far too busy. I can't keep a decent eye on the store. So while we wait for the weather to warm a bit, you can stay here.”

“We have a tent,” Kiernan offered.

“Good. I'll show you where you can pitch it.”

Kiernan felt a sense of relief wash over him as he sunk his teeth into the bun. The caramelized sugar melted in his mouth, and he thought that nothing had ever tasted as good as this sweet roll did just now. At least they would have a place to stay and food to keep them from hunger. He looked over at Victoria and saw the hopefulness in her eyes.

He had seen the same look in his mother's eyes. But that had been before their da had died and the famine had swept Ireland. It was before the landlords had risen up in an oppression far worse than any they had ever known—throwing people off the land, burning their cottages down around them. His mother had tried to remain hopeful even as her family suffered from starvation and the loss of all they had known. She had turned to her faith for strength and had remained true to it until her death—a very young death. Seeing Victoria's expression so similarly mirror his mother's gave Kiernan a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if the same fate awaited her?

“So your father is James Baldwin. Is that right?” Judah was asking Victoria.

“Yes, he is,” she said, her smile sincere. “He's abroad at present. Mother wrote and said they had been asked to help with the Russian railroad.”

“No doubt an even more ambitious project than our own,” Ted Judah replied.

“If anyone is able to help accomplish the matter, it will be James Baldwin,” Kiernan replied. “I hold me father-in-law in high regard. He looks forward to the day when a railroad will tie this country together.”

“No more so than my mother,” Victoria chimed in.

Anna laughed at this. “Of course, a mother would look forward to having a quicker route to her child.”

“Aye,” Kiernan added, “not to mention the woman has her own passion for the rails.”

“A transcontinental route is absolutely necessary if we are to see this nation settled properly. We cannot expect citizens in the East to give their money and lives for states in the West when they can't even reach them without spending weeks, even months, en route.”

They continued discussing the issue of a transcontinental railroad until Victoria yawned and Anna decided they could both use a rest away from the men.

“Doc, we shall borrow your guest bed,” Anna said with a voice that betrayed her own exhaustion. “Come, Victoria. We shall have a nap.”

Victoria looked to Kiernan before joining the woman. He could only nod his approval. God knew she needed more than a brief nap on a borrowed bed, but at least it was something.

Watching Anna Judah put an arm around his wife, Kiernan felt blessed that God had sent another woman into their lives. Sometimes Victoria seemed so isolated. So alone. He was certain she believed him to be ignorant of the fact, and it appeared they were both content to continue keeping their unhappiness from each other. Sometimes he thought to bring up the point that they were allowing some things to be put aside without solutions or discussions. But physical demands left him exhausted, and his own mental anguish over his lack of success left him with little desire to discuss emotional matters. Surely if the matter needed tending to, Victoria would bring it up. She was a strong woman, and he knew her to voice concern when need necessitated it. If her loneliness was too great, she would most likely approach him on the matter. Wouldn't she?

“I'll probably head east in another month or so,” Ted was saying as Kiernan refocused on the conversation.

“East?” Kiernan questioned.

“Yes,” Ted said, refilling his mug with coffee. “I have to convince the politicians of the eastern states that a transcontinental railroad is imperative to the growth and development of this nation.”

A thought came to Kiernan's mind. “And does your wife travel with you?”

“Most times,” Judah admitted. “I hate to be long parted from her. We only have each other. God never saw fit to bless us with offspring.”

Kiernan nodded. It was an issue he knew for himself. Often he had hoped to hear Victoria tell him that they were to have a child. But seeing the reality of their life, Kiernan was just as glad that they remained childless.

“I've given some thought to sendin' me wife home to see her family,” Kiernan said, hoping he didn't sound too pretentious. He'd just told these men of his poverty, and to mention the expense of a trip seemed ludicrous. But perhaps this was God's direction.