[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-12-08

 

The Marshal spread Jacob's wanted poster out on the cluttered desk. As neat as Linn's desk was, the Marshal's wasn't: the Marshal's appearance reflected his disorganized approach, and Jacob wondered silently how the man ever got the job.
He's probably easy for politicians to push around, Jacob thought uncharitably.
The Marshal shook his head and chuckled. "Yeah, we thought these was a joke when we saw 'em hung up around town," he wheezed. "I recall Linn. Decent a fella as I ever knew. Rotten sense o' humor but he'd not lie to you. Might pull your leg fiercely."
"Yes, sir, I know," Jacob said with a half-smile.
"You know him?" the Marshal looked up with a quick grin.
Jacob veiled his eyes. "Did you receive the telegram about his death?"
The Marshal's face fell. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I got that, and right sorry I was to hear it, too. Good man."
Jacob ran his finger along the fine print at the bottom of the wanted dodger. "What about this fellow here?"
"Jollins? Council president. Or was, until two nights ago."
"Says here to contact Jollins, and here" -- he shifted his finger -- "that Linn is wanted for the murder of one Jackson Turner."
"Oh, yeah," the Marshal said, tipping his derby to the side and vigorously scratching his greasy scalp. "Jackson disappeared one night, just vanished, and not long after Linn left too. Had a row with Council, told 'em where they could put their crooked ways, tossed his badge on the table and walked out. Jollins figured this was a personal insult and allowed as he'd get him for that."
"His words?"
"Yep. His words."
"Go on."
"The man's a coward." He leaned over, hawked and spat into a nearby spittoon. "He'd not enough guts to face up to an alley cat, let alone a grown man, but he'd stab someone in the back if ever he could. Someone come by, said Linn had a gold mine out West, and Jollins allowed as by God if he had a gold mine he'd take it away from him, and then these showed up."
"Gold mine," Jacob said.
"Yep. That's the word." The Marshal chuckled. "Take a look out this window."
Jacob stepped over to the window.
"See that pile of dirt and rock, over yonder, by where that mine's working?"
"Yes, sir."
"Know what that is?"
Jacob frowned. "It's not coal," he said.
"You're right. That's better than gold!"
"Better than gold?"
"That's right!" the Marshal declared. "You are looking at more money than there is in the whole darn Yew-Ninety States right there!"
"How's that?" Jacob looked again, seeing only a pile of dirt and rock in the glare of gas lights.
"Why, that's a million dollars lookin' you in the face!" the Marshal said with obvious pride. "That's zinc! Zinc! And I own a share in it!"
"A million dollars," Jacob smiled.
"Yep! Now you tell me, which would you rather have, a gold mine out there or a zinc mine here?"
"Wellsir, I reckon if you've got a share in a good thing, you'd ought to be happy with it."
"Oh, I am!" he nodded empatically. "Now Jollins, he's a greedy sort. After he found out about the gold mine, he allowed to print these up, said it was a joke, then we found he was shippin' them West. There's always some poor fool wants a fast buck, and more the fool that makes his wage huntin' men."
"I see."
"Now I been answerin' your questions right along. Suppose you answer mine."
"Fair enough."
"Why you here?"
Jacob waved at the wanted poster. "Jollins intentionally and deliberately tried to kill this man. He did it with a printed broadsheet instead of a knife."
The Marshal viewed the young deputy skeptically. "You sure about that?"
Jacob nodded. "See right here, says he killed Jackson Cooper?"
"I see it."
"Jackson Cooper is alive and well and he's one of our deputies."
"Do tell," the Marshal breathed. "Why, that scoundrel!"
I come out here with an arrest warrant for Jollins. I'm to take him back to Firelands for a fair trial before we hang him."
The Marshal reached up under his derby again. "Might be a little difficult."
"How's that?"
"You wanta see the man?"
"I do."
"I'll take you there. It's just up the street."
"I'd be obliged."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-12-08

 

Bonnie was not at all surprised that Miss Messman was able to change diapers and soothe babies.
She was, however, most pleased at the revelation, and quite grateful for the respite.
Nurse Susan was back at the hospital; her quarters were there, and had reluctantly but gratefully gone back to tend such minor details as her own laundry, a bath, and a change of clothes. Bonnie admired her work ethic -- there was no quitting to the woman -- but she deserved a little relief.
Bonnie, in turn, was delighted at the help Annette gave.
The babies waved their chubby arms and squealed happily as, in turn, Annette bathed them, and got them all clean and sweet-smelling, powdered, diapered, and rocked to sleep.
Bonnie dozed in her own rocking chair, in the quiet of the warm, weather-tight home, opening her eyes now and then and smiling at the sight of the bespectacled young lady, contentedly rocking, slowly, slowly, a baby in each arm, a quiet smile on her face.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-11-08

 

Tom Landers hoisted his beer and took a long drink.
"I appreciate your kindness, Sheriff," he said, picking up his fork and sizing up his dinner plate.
"My pleasure. I hate to eat alone. Esther's working on some railroad business, Jacob's still out East and I'm hungry."
Two fellows drifted over, nondescript in appearance, common cowboys by the look of them; grateful for the respite, they'd gotten a beer apiece, and settled at an adjacent table.
The younger of the two -- I'd say he wasn't much older than Jacob, maybe sixteen or so -- spoke up: "'Scuse me, Sheriff, wonder if you could tell me somethin'."
He was to my right. I knew Tom Landers carried a Lightning in a shoulder rig, and he was accomplished in a shoulder draw while seated; my coat was unbuttoned and I had set as I always do to allow my gun arm free travel.
"Oh, suppose I could try," I said mildly.
"You must be the new Sheriff. I'm lookin' for the old one. Some fello' named Keller."
"Keller, huh?" I said with an innocent expression. "You mean the one that was killed on the riverboat."
I had a good look at his partner's face when I said it, and disappointment was plain in his expression. The young fellow looked absolutely crestfallen. "Killed?" he asked, and I reckon he was seeing dollar signs winging their way out the nearest window.
"Afraid so. Two fellows bushwhacked him on his honeymoon."
"Well, there goes the reward," his partner muttered.
"You fellows must have one of them wanted dodgers," I said, smiling as Daisy's new girl -- Chinese, and darn if I could remember her name -- set a plate in front of me. Good beef it was, and it smelled good, and those two fellows took a long look at what we were eating.
I knew the look.
I asked the Chinese girl if she could bring two more plates, and she folded her hands in her sleeves and bowed, and scuttled back to the kitchen, and the two bounty hunters looked uncomfortable.
"Sheriff, uh," the one said, "we, ah, we're broke, see, and we can't--"
I held up a hand, forestalling further protest. "It's on me, fellas. I know what it is to ride on an empty belly."
Their grins were broad and instantaneous, their thanks profuse; they were soon enjoying the delights of Daisy's good cooking, or whoever she had cooking tonight -- she'd learned the art of supervision, and though she spent most of her time tending Little Sean and Big Sean, she still managed to run her kitchen here in the Jewel like a conductor runs an orchestra.
Once they'd put away two big plates apiece, Tom and I asked how the pie was tonight, and them two fellers got a look in their eyes that a sailor has when he sees home for the first time in two years.
Daisy taught her recruit well, for she taken a pie, sliced it once across the middle, give it a quarter turn and sliced it again, and served up four slices: each of us had a quarter of a pie, and those two travelers did full justice to still-warm, flaky-crusted apple pie.
We all leaned back with a contented sigh.
"I don't believe I've et this good since home," the older of the two bounty hunters said quietly.
I grinned. "I do like their pie."
Tom Landers' eyes crinkled a little at the corners. He was enjoying the show. He knew a man with a full belly will talk more easily, and he was curious to see what was about to happen.
"Say, you wouldn't have one of them-there wanted dodgers on you by any chance?" I asked, and the younger of the two fetched one out of his wallet; it was folded many times, but smoothed out easily enough. It was the same one I'd seen before.
I traced the bottom lines of print with my finger. "Oh, yes," I murmured sadly. "Says here he was wanted for the murder of Jackson Cooper."
I heard a familiar step come through the front door. Now I don't pretend to know how but Jackson Cooper had a habit of showing up right at the right time, and sure enough there he was, and I seized upon the moment like it was planned. "The fellow that printed these up is under arrest for murder, for he lied when he had them printed." I pointed to the big deputy talking to Mr. Baxter. "That's Jackson Cooper right there."
The two looked a little confused.
"Let's say this Keller fellow hadn't been shot on that river boat," I continued. "Had you acted on this wanted poster, and either grabbed him, or taken him in dead, you'd be up for murder, for Jackson Cooper is alive and well, there is no arrest warrant for Keller, and the man who printed these is in custody awaiting trial."
The younger of the two looked like his chair had fell out from under him.
"Now I have got to go pay the preacher," he said, eyes big and voice shaking a little.
"How's that?" Tom asked.
The younger fellow looked at him, a bit more pale than he'd been. "Mister, we was all set to either bend a stick over this Keller's head, or just kill him outright. We was serious set on doin' that. Had we not run into you two we'd likely have either chased our tails lookin' for a dead man, or we'd have figured you was him" -- he pointed at me -- "and ended up in a noose!"
"We'd still be hungry, too," his partner said, rubbing his belly.
The little Chinese girl set coffee down in front of us.
"The Lord looks after fools an' children," I said, pouring a shot of cream in mine. "I've qualified under one or t'other a number of times."
"Amen, brother," the two agreed; they finished their coffee and departed, reluctant to go back out in the cold, but grateful they could do so on a full belly.
"You could have had a problem here, you know," Landers said quietly as the little Chinese girl filled our coffee cups from a blue granite pot.
"I know." I stirred a dollop of honey in my big mug.
"Don't often see a man feed a pair of trouble makers."
I smiled. "They'll talk. Not just about the good apple pie, not just about finding a soft touch on a cold night. No, they'll talk about the wild goose chase, and how they found a hot meal at the end of it. Word will get out, not just that their quarry is dead, but that the dodger itself is fake. That'll spread fast, especially with its author in irons and on his way here for trial."
"Jacob found him, then?" Tom asked, leaning his elbows on the table and taking a noisy sip of scalding black coffee.
I smiled. "Last I heard, he'd made Athens. I reckon by now he's found Jollins."
Tom set his coffee cup down and looked levelly at me. "Linn, there's somethin' cold in that boy. Let me ask you as one lawman to another, and set aside your feelin's as a father."
I set my own coffee down and regarded the man solemnly.
"Ask."
"Will he bring him back, or will he just kill him?"
I nodded. "I'd wondered that myself," I admitted, "but I don't think I'm that bad a judge of a man's character. I believe he'll bring him back."
Tom nodded. "I don't want you to get a telegram saying your son is being held on a murder charge."
I will admit there was a worry in me as I replied, "I hope so too, Tom."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 3-11-08

 

Marshall Sopris had not been back in Washington to take care of administrative matters like he should and the US Attorney general keeps sending telegrams wanting updates. Sopris thought if US Attorney wanted a daily update he ought to get his carcass off the chair and out in the field. But there were more important matters at hand.

Still in the unlit sky of darkness, Chang and Sopris rode out to recover the unconscious body of Zack, left behind when Chang rescued Duzy.

Once shackled and blindfolded, and draped over a pack horse, the trio rode off toward the graveyard. There tucked in behind some rocks and bushes was the secret entrance to the underground basement below the church. Kid had used this many times and it was good to see nobody had used it or new of it's where abouts or importance.

Chang and Sopris restrained Zack into the granite walls of the cave/basement and with instructions to Chang, "keep the scourge fed and watered and don't hesitate to solicit information from him".

Chang smiled ever so slightly with understanding and yet with the thoughtfulness of kindness. A smile that only experienced interrogators could understand.

Sopris was back at the Sheriff's Office before day break.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 3-11-08

 

Willy slumped down on a rock at the foot of the boulder and leaned back with a groan. "It was five or six days ago. I reckon it was sorta my fault. I've been leavin' Dawg up here when I go to town, and he's been actin' pretty happy about it. Then for some reason he decided to follow me down, and I let him." He shifted to a little more comfortable position on his rock while Charlie waited impatiently for him to go on. "So anyway, we got crossways of some boys down there, and when we left they must have followed us back up here. They tore down the corral in the middle of the night and fired the cabin and shot me when I ran out. I got one of 'em, and I think Dawg got another one before they shot him. He got out into the rocks before they could shoot again and they were afraid to go in after him."

"How in hell did you two get crossways of anybody?" Charlie asked. "You both know better."

Willy looked down. Charlie could tell he was avoiding telling him the whole thing. Finally he appeared to come to a decision and he looked up. "It was Arlen Scorsby, Charlie. He's in one of the camps."

Arlen Scorsby. There was a name to conjure with. If Scorsby was here, then so was Badger Clark, because you never saw one without the other. And it sounded like they were out for blood. Willy looked up. "He said to tell you that he didn't want Dawg, he wanted you. Dawg and me were just icing on the cake."

"Where's Dawg?" Charlie snapped through gritted teeth. Willy pointed with his crutch toward the trees and Charlie went that way at a trot. He crashed through the snugly interwoven branches of the outer ring of trees and into a small clearing. Dawg lay on a pallet of blankets and bandages were white against black fur matted with dried blood. His eyes were closed but he appeared to be breathing easily. "Dawg, buddy, how ya doin'?" Charlie asked softly with his voice breaking. He knelt down by Dawg.

The big head came up and Dawg's eyes opened. His stub tail flickered for a moment then went still. Charlie knelt by Dawg's head and Dawg's rough tongue flicked out and touched Charlie's hand briefly. Charlie ruffled the big dog's ears and Dawg let his head fall back to the blankets.

Willy came through the trees. "What have you two been eating? You're both skin and bones," Charlie said.

"I managed to salvage some jerky from the cabin, but it hasn't been much, and I haven't been able to hunt," Willy said.

"Alright, the first order of business is food," Charlie said. He stood and brushed off his knees. "I think the biggest thing wrong with him," he nodded at Dawg, "is lack of grub. I'll go find us a deer or something. There should be some coming into the lick down in the basin. You get a fire started and I'll be right back." Charlie started to go to his saddle for his rifle and cursed when he remembered that his rifle was back in Firelands. Then he shrugged. He'd just have to make do.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-11-08

 

Jacob walked the five steps to the saloon's door and stopped.
A short, stocky fellow in a derby and an open neck shirt under his coat was approaching with the rolling gait of a powerful man.
Jacob's instinct bade him wait, and wait he did, his back to the wall, his thumbs on top of his belt buckle.
The stocky man stopped and squinted at Jacob.
"Stranger," he grunted. "You lookin' for a fight?"
"Not particular," Jacob said quietly.
The stocky fellow grunted, examined the end of his well-chawed stogie with a sad expression and said "Either my chaw is a-smolder or my cig-gar is about drownded out." He spat and dropped the stub of the stogie to the littered ground. "You might not want to go in there."
Jacob stood silent, waiting.
"You got business here, boy?"
"Yep."
The silence grew long between the two.
"Don't say much, do you?"
"Nope."
The stocky fellow looked at Apple, looked at Jacob. "How about I just take that horse?"
"I hung the last fellow that tried," Jacob said mildly.
"You hung him," the fellow chuckled. "Now that's a good one. They do that out West, you know."
"I know."
The fellow peered sharply at Jacob. "This ain't the West."
"I know."
"I got a feelin' about you, boy," the stocky fellow said. "I got a feelin' you're nothin' but trouble. Now why don't you just get on that fine lookin' horse and get outta my town."
"Can't do that."
"I can make you."
Jacob shifted his weight.
The stranger started to pull a pistol from his pants pocket and Jacob produced his left hand Colt.
The stranger was wise enough to drop the pistol back into his pants pocket.
"My Pa was murdered," Jacob said. "I aim to find the fellow that kilt him, and take him back with me."
"And who might you be?"
Jacob kept the Colt steady and reached up with his right hand, turned over his lapel. "Jacob Keller, Firelands Sheriff's Office."
The stocky fellow nodded, sighed. "You'd best come with me, then."
"Why?"
"I'm the town marshal."
"Let's see some bona fides."
The front door of the saloon flew open and two bodies flew out, landing face first on the frozen ground. The barkeep scaled a hat after one and shouted, "Hey Marshal, I got two more of 'em for you!"
The Marshal sighed. "That's six tonight, Hank. How many more you gonna belt with that bung starter?"
"However many I got to!" the barkeep barked, pulling abruptly back into the smoky interior and slamming the door.
The stocky man hawked and spat and shook his head. Seizing each of the fallen by the belt, he grunted and picked them up like luggage. "You might as well come on, boy. I'm headed for the town jail. Left my bony fides in the desk."
Jacob holstered his Colt and untied Apple-horse, and followed the stocky man into the night.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-10-08

 

Jacob loped steadily through the night, first down hill past the depot, then on north on the coach road, through Wolf Plains, which was supposed to have been the county seat -- at least, the Sheriff told him after Jacob presented his bona fides, and they had a sociable talk, and a shot of Old Soul Saver to ward off the Devil -- how Wolf Plains was supposed to have been the county seat, as it was on the back bone of the ridge, and thus proof against flooding: but the surveyors, having set up shop at the local tavern, had gotten too deep in their cups, and confused the two locations on their newly-drawn maps; and so Athens, built on soft ground, became the county seat, and Wolf Plains, high and dry, wasn't much a'tall.
Jacob passed through Wolf Plains, looking left and right, sizing up for ambush, for he was a cautious man; little was there to merit his attention, other than the constant noise from the mine down in Hocking-under-the-Hill, and the constant sulfur stink of coal fired stoves. Jacob sneezed after bit, blowing his nose noisily and shaking his head with displeasure. If it was like this everywhere back East, he thought, they can darn well have it and welcome to it!
He started down off the back bone of the ridge, down towards the Hocking River, across the railroad spur and past the salt works, over the covered bridge, Apple's hooves noisy on the planking.
Jacob unbuttoned his coat, and swept it back, left and right, for a horse's thunder in such an enclosed space could alert footpads and skulkers that a rider was coming, and the end of the bridge was a fine place for an ambush.
There was none.
Jacob swung Apple to the right, following the coach road still, parallel to the Erie Canal. It was froze over, with a covering of dirtied snow, punctuated by fox and mink tracks.
A dirty little tavern set at the corner, a lamp in the window inviting travelers to come in and partake, but Jacob was almost to his destination, and of no mind to stop.
He was another two minutes getting into Chauncey: he found it small, dirty, cramped and lined on both sides of the street with "company houses," built fast and built cheap and rented at exhorbitant rates to the miners, with the rent taken out of their pay and what was left given in mine scrip, good at the mine company's store and nowhere else: the miners were overcharged there, and when they ran out of scrip, they kept an account with the company storre: a sneaky but effective way to enslave the poor folk who were just trying to make an honest living.
All this Jacob learned in his brief conversation with the Sheriff, along with the correct pronunciation of the town's name: "When you say it, say 'Chancy,'" the Sheriff admonished him. "If you call it 'Chawncey' you'll be known for an outsider, and you'll get nowhere fast, and maybe killed. The mines don't want outsiders coming in for fear they'll try and Unionize."
Jacob had thanked the man for his kindness, and the libation, and now he was in that dirty little mining town, and headed up the street at a trot.
He was interested in a meal, a clean bed and a stable, but not in that order: his first priority was to find the town marshal, and present his bona fides, for it was the courteous thing to do, and tended to avoid misunderstandings: it would also, he hoped, give him a good handle on where to find this Jollins fellow.
Jacob's belly reminded him it was too long since the last meal, and a shot of whisky wasn't the best supper he'd had.
Jacob reined Apple-horse up in front of a tavern beside the tracks, and listened to the piano music for a moment before dismounting.
He buttoned his coat, thought better of it, left it unbuttoned and loose, and tied Apple to the hitch rail.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 3-9-08

 

Duzy and Jake held the shot glasses up, looked into each other’s eyes, and toasted, “to us, Darlin’,” together, as they knocked back the shots of tequila! Jake brought his mouth down to hers, as Duzy stood, her arms around his shoulders, her body against his, their tongues touching, as Duzy nibbled on his bottom lip, playfully, and then the kiss deepened, until they each pulled apart to catch a breath of air.

Jake unbuttoned Duzy’s bodice, taking his time with each article of clothing, savoring the softness of her skin, as he unlaced her corset, kissing her shoulders, and then slipped her chemise over her head, as she turned and stood before him, proudly, challenging him with her smile and her eyes, and making him wonder when he would catch glimpses of the shy young lady that he had first made love to!

“Darlin’, don’t you think it’s time I made an “honest woman” out of you?” Jake asked, with that one sided grin Duzy loved so, Jake knowing he was the only man who had ever held her like this, who had ever made love to her, as she stood before him, so close that he could smell the lavender, as he traced his fingers down her body, touching each peak and valley of her curves, as he watched her respond to his touch.

Jake had never known a woman who could excite him with a mere look, or the sway of her skirt as she walked, the way she rested her head on his shoulder as she slept, the way she befriended the needy, or the way she looked holding little Polly or playing with Sarah! Each time, Jake would envision Duzy holding a baby of their own in her arms, or watching as she played with a child, like Sarah, who had been conceived of their love! Jake wanted her to be his forever, till death, and he was becoming impatient. He also knew that she had to feel the same way for their marriage to work, and he knew the demons she faced were very real.

“Honey, I know you want me to set the date!” Duzy threw up her hands and said, “Mama and Papa are waiting until we marry, hell half the town is waiting; but, I don’t know, I know I love you, I don’t want to be without you, and yet I am scared…..Jake, I am scared! We both know how short life can be, we have come so close to losing each other, and not just once! And, there are my visions to try to understand, and to top that off, my life is now being threatened because of the stand I made, and plan to continue to make, for women’s rights, and it makes me wonder if I will make a good wife or if I am meant to be a mother!”

Tears came to Duzy’s eyes as she questioned her ability to take care of a family, as lately it seemed that all she could manage to do was to take care of her, and even then, she had needed help just this evening! Could she juggle her need to be a good journalist and to have a family too? Had she become engaged without thinking it through carefully enough?

And yet, each time they were together, was she not taking that same chance anyway? As careful as they were, it was always a relief when she had proof that she was not already with child. Was it selfish of her to want it all? Shouldn’t she feel happy to know that she would be giving birth to Jake's baby?

“And Jake, there is more, I have told you of my vision, and that I feel I have some type of connection with…with Kid! Jake, I can still see those images of me giving myself willingly to who I thought may be him! What if that vision is true too, possibly sometime in the future? How I even think I could betray you frightens me and makes me question myself!”

Jake had noticed how protective Marshall Sopris was of Duzy. It had angered him that Kid had not told him that Kwai Chang had gone after her, leaving him to search elsewhere. And yet, Jake felt that Kid was a man of honor, a man who had made a decision to protect Duzy by not telling anyone, but who had realized or admitted to himself that Jake loved her and would never hurt her and had decided to tell him the truth. Did he think Kid was interested in Duzy in a romantic way? He supposed it was possible, but if it was true, he took special care to hold back, and to not overstep the boundaries of their friendship.

Hell, when he thought about it, there were always men watching Duzy, from the moment she entered a room, her long dark hair pulled up, with tendrils curled around her neck, her dark eyes shining, sometimes with mischief, as she moved through a room, her skin creamy above her bodice, the sway of her hips, the laughter that followed her as she stopped to tell a tale, exaggerating her Southern accent at times, using the flirtations born of a Southern Belle, until the moment she left, gracefully walking away, hoping to leave those around her feeling a little better than they had before, and usually succeeding. God, how he loved and wanted her!

The vision, oh yes, he had surely thought of that, as he knew for a fact that most of the visions had come true, and he knew that this one in particular had Duzy puzzled, as she had stood and opened her heart to him, with tears forming in her eyes, with the knowledge that she must be honest with him. She knew that she felt something for the Marshall, something she didn’t understand, something as real as the images in her vision.

Jake picked up the robe that was lying beside the tub and gently wrapped it around her, as he motioned for her to sit next to him. “Darlin’, I have been over and over this in my mind; and, I will admit it, I am scared too! The same things that frighten you frighten me, but it is nothing like the feeling I have when I think of us giving up, of not taking the chance to be together, no matter what the future brings.”

“Oh Jake,” Duzy began. “No Darlin’, listen to me, please, if you wish to delay our wedding, to have a longer engagement, to get the newspaper established, to get this investigation behind us, to wait until we know we are both ready for children, then we must stop taking the chances we are taking, we must stop defying convention. I will move out of your suite and back into my room, and stay at the jail more, and I will court you, and I will wait for you until you can come to me, without being afraid, and then you will have the wedding of your dreams and I will you. You are my dream!

Before Duzy could say a word, Jake kissed her goodnight, and asked if he could join her for breakfast. “Yes, that would be lovely! Jake, thank you and I do love you!”

“I love you too, Darlin’,” Jake answered, as Duzy watched him walk out of her door and out into the hallway…

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-8-08

 

Percival VanNest had a bellyfull of booze, a woman on his arm and a swagger in his walk. A minor son of the New York VanNests, he was matriculating through the new Ohio University beause his womanizing, drinking and black-sheep reputation kept him out of the respectable schools back East.
This did not trouble him greatly: indeed, he found it very much to his liking: with his family's good name and money, he had no trouble enrolling, and to his great pleasure, he found that instead of being a small fish in a big pond, he was a big fish in a small pond.
In this environment he became the epitome of the "Legend in his Own Mind" ... and too often he set out to prove it, whether with fists, dice or cards.
Tonight, swagger and stagger were equally present in his gait, and when his paramour of the evening exclaimed at the beauty of the horse standing near the corner on Court Street, he shoved his hat forward on his head and declared, "The horse is not born that I can't ride!" and set out to do just that.
Apple-horse, ground-reined, blinked and swung his head to view the approaching wastrel.
Apple-horse muttered a warning as strange hands seized upon his reins.
Apple-horse gathered himself as the laughing stranger swung awkwardly into the saddle.
Apple-horse stood stock-still as the stranger wobbled a bit in the saddle.
"Oh, what a lovely boy you are," the well-dressed young woman cooed, reaching for Apple's velvety nose.
Percival VanNest, having ridden polo ponies, and annoyed at having his new mount baby-talked, jerked savagely at the reins, bruising Apple-horse's mouth, and prompting a minor explosion.
Percival VanNest had ridden polo ponies; Percival VanNest had raced blooded race horses; Percival VanNest had used spurs and riding crops without mercy on mounts that displeased him.
Percival VanNest never in his life had stepped into the hurricane deck of a Western horse.
Apple crow-hopped twice, reared, sunfished and dropped his head, kicking his hind legs well up into the air, and Percival VanNest, having lost contact with the saddle after the first three seconds, discovered that Terra Firma was quite a bit more firma than he enjoyed.
Percival landed flat on his back, the impact poorly padded by six inches of snow; the impact loosened his grip on the reins, and Apple-horse pulled back, trotting several feet to the right and stopping.
It took several moments for Percival to gain his feet; by this time several fellows were approaching, including the night constable.
"I say, old boy!" came the cheery halloo, "I've never seen better riding!"
"Riding nothing!" came the rejoinder, "that was man in flight!"
General laughter followed as Percival struggled to his feet. Squinting evilly at Apple-horse, he muttered, "You'll pay for this," and reached again for the reins.
There was a high, sharp whistle, and Apple-horse's head and ears came up, and he trotted happily up the street, to a tall slender man in a dark suit.
Percival, having gained his feet, drew strength and indignation from his school-chums, and addressed the silent man in the suit. "You there! How dare you bring such a dangerous animal into our town!"
The figure paid Percival no mind; casually, as if without a care, he mounted the stallion.
"You there! You don't ignore me, sirrah!" Percival shouted, face reddening with effort.
The young man in the dark suit spun the stallion, and with the effort, his arm; a lariat floated through the cold winter air, settling neatly about Percival's neck.
Jacob dallied the lariat about his saddle-horn, and Apple, responding to his training, began backing quickly.
Percival seized the lariat with both hands and was dragged on his belly several feet on the snowy street.
The whooping, hollering crowd followed, laughing and jeering.
Jacob dismounted and walked up to the gagging, choking college man struggling at the end of the braided leather lasso.
Jacob hauled back and kicked him in the ribs, hard, and then dropped his weight through the spear of his knees, right into the man's kidneys.
Percival's florid face would have paled, if it weren't for the plaited neck-torniquiet drawn snug by the Appaloosa.
Jacob twisted the man's arms behind his back, pulled a piggin string from a coat pocket and tied his wrists quickly, tightly, then stood.
He seized the man's arms and hauled him to his feet, whistled.
Apple-horse slacked off the line.
Jacob seized the lariat near the honda and, keeping a choke-hold on Percival VanNest, of the New York VanNests, frog-marched him to the nearest lamp post.
Apple-horse walked up to him. One-handed, Jacob spun the line off the saddle-horn, tossed it easily over the lamp post and ran a quick hitch about the horn again.
Jacob made a little kissing noise.
Apple horse began backing again.
Percival realized he was being hanged.
Jacob walked casually back to Apple-horse and stepped into the saddle.
The constable shoved through the shocked-silent hangers-on. "You can't do that!" he challenged.
Jacob threw back his lapel, then unbuttoned his coat. "Sheriff's deputy. I'm out of Colorado. Horse thievin' is a hangin' offense where I come from. Now I'm after a murderer, and I'll kill the first man to interfere with that. And the second, and the third, and however many I have to." His face was hard, his eyes unforgiving. "Now you can arrest that fellow for whatever charges you want, or I can hang him for a horse thief. Your choice."
The constable knew VanNest to be of an old, monied family, and wanted no trouble from them; on the other hand he had no wish to interfere with a brother officer. He appealed to a familiar face, approaching from a nearby doorway, for help: "Sheriff, you can't let him do this!"
Sheriff Doyle shifted his cigar from the left corner of his mouth to the right. He recognized the fellow on tip-toes, choking at the end of the lariat, and had no liking for either him or his kind. "Oh, I don't know," he said casually, flicking ash from his Havana. "Horse thieves are routinely hanged out West, and if I understand my Blackstone correctly, a visiting lawman is like a visiting diplomat: a crime committed against them is judged by the law of their native land."
Percival VanNest made a strangled sound of distress, eyes bulging from his panicked face.
"Constable, do I recall there are laws here against stealing horses?"
The constable had worked with the Sheriff before, and knew the way the man approached things. He composed himself and tucked his billy back under his armpit. "You do that, Sheriff."
"And this fellow was witnessed to have done just that."
"Yes, sir, that's correct."
"And he's done so after having consumed liquor."
"I do believe that's correct, sir." This was not a lie; Percival VanNest was a noted consumer of any compound containing alcohol, and was seldom without its odor upon his breath. Though not a drunkard, he was a drinker of considerable experience.
"I believe charges of public drunkenness and horse theft are warranted," the Sheriff said, grinding the stub of a Havana underfoot and turning to go back inside.
The stocky constable smiled and withdrew a set of cuffs. "Percival, you're spending the night at the city's expense," he said cheerfully, and Jacob backed Apple off just enough for the constable to remove the lariat.
Jacob turned, coiling la reata as he went.
Apple's hoofbeats were sharp and loud in the winter darkness, and Jacob rode north, out of town, toward Chauncey.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 3-8-08

 

Charlie slipped out of the blankets without waking Fannie. The floor was cold on his bare feet and he tiptoed gingerly through the connecting door to "his" room, gathering clothes as he went. His bag was already packed so he dressed quickly, leaving his boots by the door to the hallway. He slipped back into the other room and kissed Fannie gently on the forehead and whispered, "See ya, Darlin'." Fannie stirred, rolled over, and settled back into sleep.

Charlie slipped his boots on, put on his heavy coat, and took his bag out into the hall. He eased the door shut and muttered a disgusted "Damn!" when the latch clicked loudly.

Nestled snugly under the quilts, Fannie heard the latch clack shut and smiled. That man never was too good at saying goodbye, she thought to herself. But soon there wouldn't be nearly as many goodbyes. They would be together all the time. She was looking forward to that.

The miles and the mountains passed outside the window of the parlor car but Charlie was oblivious to the passing scenery. He was engrossed in thoughts of his new job. He'd been to the Denver office before and knew some of the deputies who worked out of there, but he'd never met the office staff. That didn't mean he hadn't heard the stories. The previous senior marshal in Denver had been a good man, but he'd been sick for a long time, and some of the staff had started to think they were more important than they were.

Charlie had a friend named Garvin Morgan who had been one of the Denver based deputies up until his retirement a few months ago and he'd told Charlie, "Conrad Wentzel is starting to think he's God, Charlie. He's one reason I retired. He's brought in a bunch of cronies that think the way he does, and he's aimin' for the top. He wants to be the big boss and to hell with anybody who gets in his way. You'd best watch out for him if you go through there." Little did Garvin, or Charlie either for that matter, know at the time that Charlie would be butting heads with Wentzel directly.

When the train arrived in Denver Charlie collected his bag and took it to a small hotel near the marshal's headquarters. He rented a room to drop his bag in then went back out to the street. He wanted to go get Dawg before he went to the office. He looked at his watch. Two o'clock. With any luck he could make it up to Willy Barton's place in the mountains before dark, and come back down in the morning. He could get a horse at a stable near the hotel and be gone shortly.

The trail up Cherry Creek was well packed from the traffic to the mines and Charlie made good time. He pushed the horse some, enough to keep both the horse and himself warm, and it was still an hour before dark when he got to the lightning scarred spruce that marked the turnoff to Willy's cabin. Here was where the going would slow considerably.

Snowdrifts sent grasping fingers out from the roots of the pines and spruces that lined the trail. A few blown-in indentations indicated that someone had come this way some time in the last week or so, but there wasn't nearly enough disturbance in the snow as there should have been. Willy wasn't a hermit, he was just a man who liked to be up high where he could hear the wind, and it wasn't like him to stay up there for too long. The lack of sign was a worrisome thing.

Charlie rounded a shoulder of mountain and smelled smoke. Willy's cabin was built on the edge of a small hanging basin below timberline, on a bench that had been scoured of trees in some long gone avalanche. Now there wasn't enough left of the hill above the cabin to hold enough snow to be a problem.

At first, the smoke smell was comforting. Maybe Willy was just under the weather and that was why he hadn't been out. Then suddenly the smoke smell wasn't comforting any longer. It was too acrid, and too washed out, almost stale. Charlie clapped his heels to the horse and charged up the trail.

The sight that greeted Charlie when he charged up onto Willy's bench stopped him dead and a bitter curse escaped his lips. Where Willy's cabin had been there was now a pile of charred timbers. The corral had been pulled down and Willy's mule was nowhere to be seen. Charlie looked down at the gun in his hand and had no recollection of drawing it but he holstered it. Whatever had happened here had been days ago. Then Charlie thought of Dawg.

Charlie curled his tongue behind pursed lips and gave out a piercing whistle. He was answered from the timber to one side of the bench by a deep Woof! that broke short of completion with a whining undertone that Charlie didn't like. He booted the horse across the bench to the thicket of sub-alpine firs that stood there. "Dawg! Come here, pardner!"

"He can't, Charlie," Willy's voice said from Charlie's right. Charlie twisted in the saddle. Willy stood near a large boulder, a relic from the avalanche that had cleared the bench, leaning on a makeshift crutch. "He's hurt bad. I've been doin' the best I can for him, but we need to get him down below."

Charlie jumped down from the saddle. "What the hell happened here?" he demanded.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 3-8-08

 

The door opened ....

The Doctor came out ...

Words were spoken ....

A child was handed to Bonnie ....

“Did he say a girl?” Bonnie thought

“Did he say a daughter?” Bonnie thought once again

“Did Chen-chi not make it?” Did Bonnie say this out loud or to herself? Her mind was racing .... or was it even moving at all?

The Doctor told Bonnie the child needed to eat ....

He told her Nurse Susan would help her with the ability to nurse two babies ....

She heard the Doctor talking to Caleb ....

Arrangements? .....

“There has been to much death over the last couple of weeks ....” Bonnie remembered the words Caleb had spoken.

“We need to celebrate life .....” More words remembered

“Bonnie?” Caleb was crouched low, resting on the balls of his feet meeting Bonnie eye to eye. “Bonnie? ..... You need to focus, Bonnie. Look at me love.”

Bonnie thought she was looking straight ahead ....

“Bonnie?”

“Damn it, Caleb! How much more can a person take?” Bonnies words were not spoken loudly. They were not even spoken with a great deal of anger .... there was more exasperation in the words than anything.

Caleb stood and pulled his wife up. Their niece was wrapped tightly in the blankets. “Bonnie? She needs to be fed .... We need to take her home .....”

Bonnie looked at Caleb, and then finally looked at the child.

Quivering bottom lip ....

Tears ....

Eyes blurred ....

But not before Bonnie saw, what was indeed a beautiful baby ... She felt slightly heavier than their Polly ... longer, too ..... Straight dark hair hanging over her forehead, little eyes, not quite almond shape and not quite round. Skin was pale, yet creamy and pink .....

“Opal ..... she looks like an opal ......”

Caleb held onto his wife, and together the went through the door and headed for home.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-8-08

 

There was always hot water, thanks to the new stove, a fact for which both physicians were grateful: they washed the baby and wrapped it in a towel, and Dr. Greenlees could not help but grin at the strong, wiggling little girl-child that yawned and rooted, looking for her first meal.
"I believe a nursing mother awaits," Dr. Flint murmured, nodding toward the waiting room door. "Please introduce Miz Bonnie to her niece. I will tend to the mother."
Dr. Greenlees bounced the restless newborn gently, hesitating as he reached for the door knob.
He looked back at Dr. Flint, who was resting his hand on the dead mother's forehead.
"You have a daughter," he said softly, "and she is beautiful."
Dr. Flint drew the sheet respectfully over the dead woman's face, and wheeled her into the next room.
Dr. Greenlees waited until the door closed behind his partner before opening the door to the waiting room.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-7-08

 

I woke, warm and relaxed, and the first thing I saw was a set of green eyes inside a halo of auburn hair.
My hand squeezed Esther's gently, and I blinked, a slow, sleepy blink, like a cat in a sunny window, and I cuddled up against her, and she gave a contented sigh, and her arm was warm around me, and it felt good just to lay there for a while.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 3-7-08

 

“Bonnie! What are you doing here?” Caleb asked his wife as she entered the hospital.

“Nurse Susan is with the girls, and she indicated i should be here .... She was frank, Caleb. She indicated Chen-chi was .....” Bonnie stopped momentarily, “but there is hope perhaps for the baby. Caleb! It is my ‘brothers’ baby! We may need to consider .....”

Caleb encircled his arms around Bonnie. “Dearest Bonnie? There has been far no much death over the last couple of weeks ..... let us celebrate life. We have Sarah .... Polly .... each other! We will do what we can and must with Chen-chi and the baby.”

“I have so many questions, Caleb!”

“I know Love, I do, too .....”

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 3-7-08

 

When Jake started back to the Sheriff’s Office, he was beyond worrying, he was angry, angry at himself, even though he couldn’t explain why, angry at feeling helpless, as he had searched everywhere for Duzy! Bonnie had said she hadn’t seen her, and he felt bad about adding to her worries, Emma hadn’t either, and Jackson had gotten dressed and joined Jake. Esther and Linn were already in bed, so thankfully they hadn’t had to worry either of them yet. Duzy’s Papa was up in arms, ready to help look for her, and her Mama was praying that nothing else had happened to “her baby!” Mildred had went so far as to say that he should marry Duzy immediately and stay by her side, and then had apologized, knowing it was Duzy who hadn’t set the wedding date, so she began to pray.

U.S. Marshall Sopris had decided to tell Jake the truth. Jake was a good man, if he was any judge of character, and having always relied on his intuition to keep himself alive, Kid honestly couldn’t stand to watch the man suffer, as he was obviously in love with Duzy!

Like it or not, he had to admit it, as he thought of the dark haired woman, who pulled at his own heartstrings. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a liquid pool, and seeing your own soul, merged with hers, and making a man fill a zest for life and passion! Damn, sometimes, he wished he had never met the hardheaded woman! He knew if she hadn’t been engaged to Jake when he had returned, he had planned to throw caution to the wind and to court her himself! He wasn’t sure that Duzy was sure of her own feelings, but being a man of honor, he wasn’t planning to do anything but watch and wait, while making sure she was safe.

Kwai Chang and already picked up on Kid’s feelings, and knew Duzy wouldn’t like the idea, or even agree to stay in the “safe house.” “Look deep in your heart, my friend.” Those few words had worked effectively in making Kid do just that. Was his plan to keep Duzy hidden so he could be the man who would be with her and looking out for her safety? Damn the man, he could put more wisdom in a sentence than most could in a book!

And then Kid smiled to himself, as Duzy had given Kwai Chang a run for his money, having untied herself in the wagon, and quietly rolled herself to the back of the wagon and slipped off, just as they rode over a rut in the road, and if he hadn’t noticed how quiet it had become, without her incessant questioning, he may not have noticed, and then she had given him a hard time finding her! He certainly hadn’t appreciated the smug look on Kid’s face as the story was told by the impish young lady herself!

Jackson and Jake returned to the Sheriff’s Office, and as the explanation of Duzy’s return began, the three lawmen stood firing questions and opinions at each other, all strung as tight as a banjo string, as the Shaolin Priest sat and quietly listened.

Suddenly, Duzy said, “Enough! It is obvious that no one here is the mole! Please, may we all leave our egos out of this and look at it rationally?"

The four men looked at Duzy and she heard two, “sorry Miz Duzy’s,” and one “sorry Darlin’,” and a quiet sound, like a choked chuckle, from the corner of the room where the Priest sat.

Taking a deep breath, and trying to look as ladylike as possible, with her cape dirty, her face smudged from the ride in the wagon, her hat askew, and frankly, thankful she had been able to clean herself somewhat with the snow, she continued. “No one has access to my research or to what I write before it is printed, except for those who work in the newspaper office, and except for Miss Messman, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, that leaves the men who came to Firelands from running the “Raleigh Democrat”, who Papa hired for me from North Carolina. Is it possible that one of these men could be leaking information?”

Marshall Sopris had already sent for information on the men, but he kept that to himself, for the moment, and decided it best for everyone to calm down and get some sleep, especially after taking a closer look at Duzy, who he realized had been through a harrowing experience and had held her temper for as long as she could, and he couldn’t help but smile at how pretty she looked and how he wished he could wipe the dirt from her face and hold her, and then he noticed that Jake had come to his senses too, and was doing just that! Damn!

“Miz Duzy, could you get some of the women of Firelands together for a meeting in the next day or so? We have several women; mostly Chinese, who have been rescued during our investigation, and after meeting the women of Firelands, I thought this would be a good place to help these ladies find decent employment, as you all tend to be more independent and helpful to each other than in most places I have lived?”

“I would be happy to, Marshall! There is the new textile plant that Bonnie and Caleb are building, and the new hospital, and we always need more help at the Silver Jewel, and possibly at the newspaper office, all depending on what they can do. I am sure we can come up with something to help!"

This news had Duzy excited; as helping women was on of her missions and she and Bonnie had already had private conversations concerning recruiting their labor from women who were being forced into the brothels, or sold to rich businessmen as a concubine.

“Jake, could we return to the Silver Jewel? I would love a shot of tequila, and to soak in a hot tub of water before bed tonight?”

“Darlin’, your wish is my command,” Jake answered, wrapping his arms around Duzy and holding her closely.

Goodnight gentlemen.” Jake said as he thanked the men for their help, while keeping some thoughts to himself, for now.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-6-08

 

Jacob was most of a day getting from Cincinnati to Athens: his precious stable car was switched to a local passenger train, which made frequent stops: Jacob pulled up a dynamite box and sat with the stable car door half-open, watching the countryside.
He was no stranger to broad stretches of the high Plains, but somehow the glaciated Yankee east was foreign to his eyes: he finally realized that he was used to seeing for miles, and here, especially once he left the flat land and entered a more hilly country, the nearest high point was never more than a mile distant.
The world he was seeing was considerably smaller than what he was used to, and though he didn't feel entirely claustrophobic, he was not entirely comfortable.
He fed Apple-horse the last of the small, sweet apples from his father's trees and petted his neck. "I'll be glad to get home, boy," he murmured, and Apple ruckled, and nudged his chest, and stamped, for he was tired of riding and tired of this wobbling, clattering stall that smelled of little besides one horse.
Jacob mucked out the stall, slinging the refuse out the open door while they were in motion, as was the custom of the day: he put down fresh straw, and knowing he was not long from his destination, went ahead and saddled and bridled Apple.
The conductor came back to find Jacob with rifle in hand and just stepping into the saddle.
"Well, young fella, I hope you'll ride with us again," he said cheerfully.
Jacob touched his hat brim. "I figure to, sir," he said. "I'll be back in about a day with my prisoner, if all goes as planned."
The train slowed, the couplers banging as the cars decelerated against their hand-turned brakes. The Z&W was the exception; it was one of the only rail lines of its day to use the new Westinghouse air brakes, and the brakeman's quick tread on the roof overhead brought Jacob's eyes up, then back down.
"We'll be in Athens in no more than ten minutes, I'd say," the conductor added, looking out the side door. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"
Jacob smiled. "No, sir, but I reckon the local Sheriff can recommend a place."
"Well, good hunting," the conductor waved, and moved on to the next car, and Jacob turned Apple-horse to face the sliding door. He ground-reined the stallion, released the side door's latch and drew it wide open, spragging it so it would not roll shut at an unhandy moment.
When the train stopped, willing hands set the ramp against the floor, and Apple stepped delicately out of the stable car and onto the depot platform, and Jacob rode into nighttime Athens, Ohio.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-6-08

 

The chestnut mare thrust against hard-packed ground, surging under him, bearing him away from the enemy, back toward his own lines.
Shots, puffs of gunsmoke drifting through tree-filtered moonbeams, shouts.
A bugle; a shout; hands grasping his mare's bridle, strong hands grasping at him.
He fell, fell for a year and a day, and the earth reached up with grassy hands and caught him, caught him, and he landed softly, softly, and the earth smelled of sun-dried bedsheets and a woman's perfume...
Esther laid a gentle hand on her husband's quivering chest, and felt the heat from his nightmare: he was a furnace when they haunted him, and she nearly recoiled from the intensity, but he groaned softly, and relaxed, and his breathing came easier, and she knew that her touch had delivered him from the war yet again.
He rolled over in his sleep, rolled over toward her, and his hand found hers, and she saw the lines fall away from his face, there in the dim moonlight, and his trembling slowed, and ended, and his breathing became regular again.
They slept, holding hands, as they often did, and he dreamed no more that night.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-6-08

 

Doctor Flint went from completely relaxed to fully awake in a tenth of a second. If there were any doubt at all of his wakefullness, when his warm feet hit the cold, polished stone floor, all doubt was removed. Despite his naturally stoic nature, he inhaled through clenched teeth, once, then set his face and strode for the door.
Moments later he was shoving himself into something besides a nightshirt.
Children come when they will, he remembered telling a fellow medical student as they prepared to deliver a young mother of her child, and they always bring their mothers along.
His classmate failed to see the humor in his remarks.
Now he struck a Lucifer match and lighted the acetylene examination light, adjusted its flame.
He glanced up at the pale, panting messenger who had borne this slight little woman to his office.
Rosenthal, he thought. Caleb, I believe. Bonnie's husband. Good man. A little pale. Hope he doesn't pass out.
The tiny Oriental woman was pale as well, her breathing shallow, labored; she was sweating, despite the chill outside.
He drew up her eyelid, pulled down her lower lid.
The normally rich, red conjunctival tissues were pale, almost pink.
Dr. Flint frowned, his fingers searching her temples for the pulse.
There was none at the temple; the carotids were far fainter than they should be, and irregular.
Dr. Flint's strong fingers searched her protruding belly, pressing gently inward.
Movement, he thought. All is not lost.
The door opened, and Dr. John Greenlees came in, rubbing his eyes and frowning. "What have you there, Doctor?" he yawned.
"Prepare for surgery," Dr. Flint said crisply. "Emergency Caesarian section."
Dr. Greenlees was instantly awake. He assessed the patient quickly, professionally, felt the pulses at her wrist, throat, temple; he, took felt her belly, felt a tiny kick.
"I agree," he said quietly. "Mr. Rosenthal, could you excuse us, please." It was less a request than an order, and Caleb, pale and half-sick, turned and left the examination room.
Chen-chi was quickly borne into the operating theatre.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 3-6-08

 

“What’s your real reason for returning to Firelands, Levi?” David sat privately with Levi at the moment, as Abram joined Miriam and Hannah for an evening tea in the dining car.

“Like I said, David, something has come to my attention .... that’s all.”

“Does the ‘something’ have to do with the business in Firelands? Are you contemplating helping Caleb out?”

It was all Levi could do not to burst out with an angry retort. Levi uncrossed his legs, then crossed them again in the other direction, “I just need to visit with Caleb .... and Bonnie. Business is certainly the topic, David.”

*************************************************

Chen-chi was turning from side to side upon her bed. The pain was agonizing. Every couple of minutes it was all she could do not to scream out. She kept remembering what her grandmother would say, “It brings dishonor to cry out when bringing forth your husbands son.”

Chen-chi heard a knock at the door, “Chen-chi?” Bonnie said quietly, “It’s Bonnie, Chen-chi. Is everything alright? May I come in?”

Another pain, another intake of breath ....

Bonnie heard muffled sounds coming from the room, and did not wait for an answer. She entered the room Chen-chi was in, “Dear Lord! Chen-chi!” Bonnie went to Chen-chi, took one look at her, then ran for the door, “Nurse Susan! Nurse Susan,” Bonnie called. “Please come quickly!”

Nurse Susan came in and knew exactly what was going on. Chen-chi looked at the woman with an element of fear, “Please! I do not need assistance! I must not bring dishonor to James! I must do this myself!

Bonnie could not believe what she had heard, and Susan looked over to Bonnie questioningly as well.

“Chen-chi?” Bonnie began to speak to her sister-in-law, but before anything else could be said, Chen-chi’s back rose off of the bed, and a scream escaped from her mouth, and then there was silence.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-5-08

 

Jacob was asleep when they rattled over the Mr. and Mrs. Sippi River, and he was awake when the cars were switched for the next leg of the trip: he made very sure the stable car remained connected to the passenger coach before taking his leave of Apple-horse and heading for the dining car.
Jacob was a young man, and young men are hungry, and Jacob intended to do justice to a good meal.
As chance would have it, the dining car was filling quickly, and he and a painted lady arrived at the last table at the same moment. Despite his hunger, Jacob, hat in hand, offered her the table, and she asked him to join her.
"Betsy Nialls," she introduced herself, thrusting out a manicured hand.
Jacob took it delicately. "Jacob Keller."
Across the car, two other women looked at her with distaste, hoisted their noses and turned back to their meal, gabbling in low voices and shooting daggers at the woman who sat across from the attractive young man.
Breakfast was served almost immediately; Jacob put in another order, for he knew two eggs, two strips of bacon and two slices of toast would probably fill the gaps in his teeth, but would do nothing to fortify his growlin' gut.
Over coffee and eggs the two tablemates talked: Jacob, polite, soft-spoken, shared little but listened much, which suited his animated breakfast partner.
She was an actress, as it turned out: she'd been performing for some years now, but had been invited to join a group of players in Cincinnati, which was their next stop.
Jacob had never met an actress; there was a general prejudice toward such folk as being profligate, wastrels or thinly disguised debauchees, and Jacob had heard such talk, he chose to reserve judgement until he could see for himself, and what he saw so far was a woman with stars in her eyes, delighting in what she had been doing, and equally delighted with what she was planning to do.
Jacob happened to approve of doing what you darn well chose, even if other folks disapproved: he looked over at the Disapproval Sisters, and back to the actress.
Given a choice, he thought, I'd rather keep company with this one. She's interesting.
"And do you have someone special?" Betsy asked.
Jacob smiled, several things going through his mind at once. He looked up and smiled, and the smile shone in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am" he said quietly, "I have."
"Tell me about her!" Betsy leaned over the table, arms crossed in front of her, the very image of rapt attention.
Jacob leaned across the table in the same manner. "She is truly a lovely child," he said with affection in his voice. "She has eyes the color of a clear winter's sky, and hair like ripe corn silk. Her skin is flawless as I have ever seen and she can charms the birds from the air with her laugh."
Betsy sighed. "Oh, that's lovely," she said. "What's her name? How old is she?"
Jacob smiled. "Her name is Sarah, and she's about --" his hand held level at a certain height -- "and she's about eight years old."
Betsy laughed with delight, clapping her hands. The biddies across the way glared.
"Oh, I meant do you have someone ... you know ... special!"
"There is one other, yes, ma'am."
"Tell me about her!"
"Well, ma'am, she's about my age, and a little shy. She's our librarian, and she works with Miz Duzy at the local newspaper office."
The porter brought Jacob another plate of bacon and eggs, and Jacob suspended discussion in favor of food. A second plate, he thought, might just hold him til he could get a good square meal.
The conductor came into the car, singing "Cin-cin-nat-tee! Cin-cin-nat-tee!"
"Now that man has a voice," Betsy said approvingly. "I'll bet he can sing!"
"Yes, ma'am" Jacob agreed politely.
Betsy rose, then stopped and smiled at Jacob, and extended her hand again. "Thank you so much for your company," she beamed. "A meal is so much more pleasant when it's spent with a pleasant young man. You tell your sweetheart she's a lucky girl to have you!"
"Yes, ma'am," Jacob rose politely, and accepted her proffered hand. Now that no table was between them, he swept her hand up and kissed her knuckles.
Betsy sighed. "Have you never trod the boards, young man?" she teased gently.
Jacob wasn't sure quite what she meant, so he answered honestly in the negative.
"You should. You have presence," and Betsy turned with a smile, and was gone.
Jacob left money for the meal and stood.
"Young man," one of the sour sisters snapped, "do you know what kind of woman you were consorting with?"
"I do, ma'am," Jacob said, and their mouths opened in dismay. "I was ... consorting with someone who extended a moment's pleasant conversation, and who was ladylike when she did so." He settled his hat on his head. "Can't say as much about you."
Shocked, they watched his departing form as he paced down the aisle of the dining car with the smooth gait of a prowling cat.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 3-5-08

 

Marshall Sopris had taken first watch, and after noticing Miss Wales walking toward the hospital, he wasn’t taking any chances. He called to the man resting in the back of the Sheriff’s Office. Kwai Chang knew what he must do.

Duzy didn’t hear a sound until the driver was out of his seat and then she heard the horrible man hit the ground hard. The second man quietly brought the buggy to a stop and disappeared for what seemed to be an eternity, with Duzy lying tied and not knowing what would happen next. Looking backwards as far as she could, with the way she was tied, she had seen two shadows and then just one…..just as she had in her trance. The second shadow returned and the buggy kept moving. Duzy continued to work, moving her hands to try to get untied. The man in front didn’t say a word, but continued to ride, making turns that Duzy couldn’t remember taking. Not knowing whether she was still close to Firelands, or if they had gone some distance, she tried to communicate with the driver.

“Where are we, who are you, are you here to help me?” Duzy asked.

“You are safe, little one.” He replied. And then silence…..

U.S. Marshall Sopris hated deceiving Jake, but someone was leaking information, and even though he thought Jake truly loved Duzy, and after seeing the distress on his face, he didn’t think Jake was his mole. His plan was to keep Duzy safe until he knew who the culprit was, even if it meant more worry to those who loved her. He frowned, thinking his work wasn’t always fair, but he had a job to do, and he meant to do it right.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 3-4-08

 

Duzy opened her eyes and could see the stars, her body shivering in the cold air, and she realized she was riding in the back of a buggy, hands and feet tied, and somehow instinct stepped in and she pretended to still be out cold, knowing that she would have the advantage if her captor thought her unconscious. Turning slightly in different positions, she knew she had also been disarmed, except maybe, but no, if they were that thorough, they would have thought to look there too. She wouldn’t know for sure until she could get untied, which she began slowly to try, trying not to make any noise or give herself away. He must have been listening before she even realized she was awake.

“How ya doin back there, pretty thing, bout time you woke up. It gets minty lonely out here all by my lonesome, but now, I don havta worry bout that no more, now do I?” And then he laughed, a cruel laugh, “not with a real lady to keep me compny, but then you wont be a lady for long with ol Zack here. No Ma’am, you will be all broke in fore long and be beggin ol Zack for your needs! All I havta do is deliver you, but there weren’t no rules bout what we do til we get there.” And then another cruel laugh that sent shivers down Duzy’s spine. “Real ladies don go out alone anyways, so you may be some dandy’s whore, but youl member ol Zack, you can bank on that!

Jake and Kid were talking briefly about the investigation, when Kid noticed that Jake seemed to be in a hurry. “You need to be somewhere, Jake; we can talk in the morning?”

“Kid, I don’t mean to be rude and I do need to hear what you are saying, the truth is, I am worried about Duzy. I can’t rest my mind until I know she is safe, I have a bad feeling. I haven’t mentioned it yet, but I haven’t seen her tonight, and she always leaves word if she is gone for long, hell she may be back at the Silver Jewel by now, I could have missed her.”

“Why don’t you go and check and let me know if she isn’t there, I will help you look, she has made some enemies with the articles she has written and we can’t be too careful.”

As soon as Jake left, Kid reached for his pocket watch and looked at the time. “He damn well better have her by now,” he said, and his blue eyes looked grey in the light.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 3-4-08

 

Trunks were at the foot of the elaborate staircase of Abram and Miriam Rosenthal’s Gothic Mansion in St. Charles Illinois. Carriages were just pulling up outside to load the luggage and Caleb’s parents so they could depart and travel to Chicago to meet up with David and Hannah where all would then board a train heading east to Firelands, Colorado.

Levi descended the stairs with luggage of his own.

“Son?” Miriam quizzed, “I thought you were going to be staying behind!”

He walked over to his Mother and placed his warm lips upon her cheek in a loving kiss, “Something has come to my attention, Mother. It would appear that I need to be going along with you.” He looked to his Father, “Do not worry Father, all will be well here with the business. Caleb hired excellent people before her and Bonnie went to Colorado, to run this aspect of
Rosenthal and McKenna. I will not missed, that I assure you.”

Abram looked at his son, and knew there were things amiss with his second born. He tried approaching Levi on a few occasions concerning his instinct, but was always cut off in one form or another by Levi. Abram suspected Levi would tell him when the time was right. It also was not a huge surprise to see Levi going after all, as it had been discussed that her go to Firelands to assist Caleb with the newest family business adventure, so in Abrams eyes, this was a good sign. Perhaps this trip would help his son to leave, what Abram knew to be a secretive past, behind him once and for all.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 3-4-08

 

Duzy couldn’t stop the feeling of being watched, even though she couldn’t see a sign of anyone, so it was quite a relief when she arrived at the new hospital and asked to see Bonnie. “Sorry, Miss Wales, but Bonnie isn’t here. She brought Sarah by and we checked her arm and hand. I must say I have never seen anything quite like that, with the way she was burned, and the little tyke was all smiles that the pain was gone; speaking nonsense about Uncle Linn blowing on her arm and it was magically gone! Sarah is a tough little girl, but she has fanciful ideas! I also understand it was Sheriff Keller who knew to apply the honey! Mr. Rosenthal asked that we see to Bonnie and Polly, which we did, but Bonnie told us she felt more comfortable in her own home, and she does have Miss Susan with her, who is highly qualified and competent to stay with her.” “Thank you,” Duzy said simply and turned to walk back to the Silver Jewel, wondering what the new nurse would think if she had been a part of the “magic” or had visions to try to understand! Nonsense indeed!

Duzy had taken a few steps outside the hospital and had just begun to chastise herself for being irritated at the nurse for speaking her mind, and thinking she was probably just lonely and loved to talk, and making a mental note to return sometime and introduce herself properly, when a hand covered her mouth and she felt herself being drawn backward. The smell, the same smell that Clara had used on the train months ago, chloroform Duzy thought, the last thought Duzy had before she passed out.

Jake was beginning to worry. Fred had given him the message that Duzy had gone to her room to rest, but he couldn’t find her anywhere, and no one he talked to had noticed her leave. Where the hell would she have gone, he thought, beginning to have a sick feeling inside that something was wrong! Before he said anything to worry anyone, he decided it best to see if she was with Bonnie or Emma, or even Esther and Linn, as they were the only people that wasn’t residing at the Silver Jewel that he thought she may be with at this hour.

Making the same mistake as Duzy, Jake went to the hospital and was told that Duzy had left, but was most likely with Bonnie. Knowing that Charlie would be leaving on the morning train and that Sheriff Keller wouldn’t be at the office tonight, Jake decided to stop by and check on things before riding out to Bonnie’s. Within a few feet of the door, Jake realized someone was inside, and as he stood outside, away from the door, he turned the knob and kicked the door open. For just a second, the two men stared at each other, and then holstered their guns, as Jake said, “Howdy, Kid! Good to see you, when did you get back?”

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 3-4-08

 

They slept, father and son, in divergent beds: one on a mattress of straw and saddle blanket, lulled by the gently rocking lullaby of steel wheels on iron tracks, with the smell of horse and of hay and of fresh, clean straw; the other, comforted by the distant realization that he was home, under his own roof, in his own bed, with the clean smell of sun-dried bedding; neither was moved by anything but nature's urges, which when tended, was as quickly forgotten, and both returned to their good rest.
Jacob dreamed, and moved a little in his sleep; his father dreamed, but on a deep level, so deep he never stirred: not until the mattress moved a little, as darkness shadowed the landscape, and his wife joined him, did he move at all: and that was only his good right hand, which sought hers: his grasp was gentle, and she saw his face relax a little, and all was well again.