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Firelands-The Beginning


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Kid Sopris 2-25-08

 

The train slowed...Sopris was at the back of the last passenger car on the side steps, waiting for the train to stop. It was in the middle of nowhere and the dark of night concealed the identity of the stranger waiting to be met by Marshall Sopris. Dressed in a peasant form of clothing this mixed descent of Asian and Caucasian ethnicity was what Sopris had waited months for after their meeting in San Francisco some years ago.

A non violent religious man was feared by many and had been responsible for hurting more violent offenders than all the years Sopris can claim. A Shaolin Priest was respected and feared for their talents, skills and sacred beliefs.

Kwai Chang was to be Kids new partner for as long as needed. Once aboard, the train gathered steam and continued it's progress toward Firelands.

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Lady Leigh 2-25-08

 

“Being a Concubine in China, Bonnie, is not considered a bad living arrangement. Often times, it is the only way some Chinese women have a secure future. Chen-chi’s situation in that living arrangement differs from other woman, as she grievously sinned in the eyes of the Chinese culture .... she fell in love ...with me. I would have gotten her out of San Francisco sooner, but her assistance in our operation was invaluable. The communication level for one thing. She fluently speaks English, as well as several Asian dialects.

I need to bring this letter to a close, Bonnie, but before I do, I beg your forgiveness in not being in communication with you. Though I do not expect you to understand the necessity of it appearing I have been dead in the eyes of you, Mama and Margaret, but it was necessary. I was severely put to the test when I heard of Mama and Margaret’s deaths .... and also the horror that befell to you as well ....”

“Wait a minute!” Bonnie thought, “He knew?! He knew and ‘chose’ to do nothing? Chose to let Mama think him dead, but never knowing for certain. Chose to not help us? Me? Chose????”

“Chen-chi?” Bonnie aloud, “How much do you know of James? Do you realize I am James’ half sister?”

Chen-chi did look up at the last question, “No .... I did not know you were James’ sister ... though I did know he had family he was not in contact with. I only knew you were someone of some importance, or James would not have sent me here.”

Bonnie handed the letter to Caleb. She felt an element of disgust and could read no further.

“What is James thinking? He abandons a family .... Leaves them when they needed a man the most ... needed him the most. Then he has the audacity ...”

Then Bonnie remembered Chen-chi had used James’ name in the past tense.

“Chen-chi? Where is James? And who are the two men he speakes of in the letter?”

Chen-chi began to cry. No longer were her clasped hands laying on her lap, as now they were spread across the front of her face, “James was killed shortly after settling me on the train. And I can not speak of the two men James may have spoken of. I will not endanger them, or other members of my people we have been urgently trying to protect.”

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Linn Keller 2-25-08

 

Fool I may be, but a soft hearted fool, and I make no apologies for it.
I had taken this diminutive, crippled woman as an old widow.
She'd lifted her veil and she was crying: widow she might be, I thought, but old she isn't, and I recognized grief deep enough to cut a canyon through a hard man's soul, and I was before her, on one knee, gathering her into my arms: she leaned into me, as best she could with her belly, and cried, doing her best to stifle the sobs that threatened to rip her in two. She pressed her forehead into my shoulder as if to punish herself, and I could feel the heat from her tears, and I just knelt there and held her, and soothed her as best I could.
My arms were around her, but her hands were light, light on my arms, as if afraid to touch me: and yet it seemed she was grateful for the shelter of a strong man's arms.
Bonnie's expression had not escaped my attention; I was still in the dark about James -- but all would come to light, I figured, and right now ... now I might appear to be a soft old fool, or a knight-errant galloping to the relief of a distressed mother-to-be, but it was not in me to just stand and watch as grief caved her in like a collapsing coal shaft.

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Lady Leigh 2-25-08

 

Bonnie sat there .... numb .....

She sat there watching the Sheriff comfort this woman, whom she now realized is her sister-in-law. This woman who carried a letter .... from the grave for all practical purposes.

Bonnie just sat there .... feeling more mixed within herself than she could ever begin to explain to anyone.

Yet Bonnie could not move .... it was Linn Keller who was comforting her. In her minds eye that was enough.

Yes, Bonnie was angry
Yes, Bonnie was confused
Yes Bonnie was .... torn

Caleb looked over to Bonnie. He had always been able to read her facial expressions. These were expressions he didn’t think he wanted to read. No doubt her Scottish ancestry was quarreling over her thoughts.

But this woman in their home was family. What ever it was that Bonnie was going to have to deal with, this woman was in the here and now. She needed their help.

And help was what she was going to be getting.

“Bonnie just needed to work through things”, thought Caleb.

Caleb stood, “Sheriff? Did Chen-chi have any luggage? If so. We need to get it moved to the spare room upstairs.”

Bonnies head snapped, lips were pursed together. She managed to bring a measure of control over her.

She stood.

With composure, “Yes, there is the spare room. If you will all excuse me. I need to be getting to Polly.”

Bonnie turned and ascended the stairs.

"James turned 'his' back on our family. 'I' will not make the same mistake."

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Linn Keller 2-25-08

 

Jacob ricked up the stove wood close by the front door, as he always did, and gathered a big armload to take inside: teetering carefully on the snow-packed steps, he managed to make it to the front door without incident, and pushed his way inside, accompanied by a gust of cold air.
Jacob knew the way to the stove, and politely ignored the adults who were in various stages of whatever it was they were doing: he pretended to have a face full of wood and busied himself filling the wood box in the living room, stacking it full, working the pieces to take up all the space available, getting the most wood possible stacked in.
He pretended not to see his father on one knee before an old widow-woman, but he smiled, a little, at the sight of the tall man with an iron-gray mustache comforting a troubled soul.
That's just like him, Jacob thought proudly, and went out for a second load.
The kitchen woodbox would need filled, too.

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Linn Keller 2-26-08

 

Sarah was a healthy, lively, seven year old girl-child with bright and sparkling eyes, an inquisitive nature, a bottomless appetite and a skinny frame: like all little girls of the early West, she had her share of chores to do, given in proportion to her age and her strength and her skills; unlike most little girls, she executed them quickly, efficiently and cheerfully, less concerned with being an individual, more concerned about being part of her family -- which included not only Mama and Papa but numerous aunts and uncles and bunches of other people, like Mr. Mac and Mr. Bill and Mr. Baxter (they were always Mister this-or-that, she would never dream of calling them by their first name, nor even -- shudder! -- referring to them by it!)
Today, though, her tribe had shrunk to herself and Twain Dawg and a particularly favored, ceramic headed fashion doll her Uncle Linn had given her Mama. It wore the very latest in fashion for the day, and her Mama had carefully noted the shape and drape of its garments, and had manufactured a number of gowns of that pattern; natural seamstress that she was, she'd quickly memorized the pattern, and so Sarah inherited the fashionably-attired doll.
At the moment Twain Dawg was less concerned with dolls and fashion and a little girl's tea party than he was getting outside, for though Twain Dawg was approaching full growth, he retained the energy of a growing puppy, and growing puppies tend to be active, and actively growing puppies tend to have bladders that are equally active, and Twain Dawg whined and pawed at the door.
Sarah came skipping across the room and seized the door knob. "C'mon, Twain Dawg," she said loudly, pulling the door open, and Twain Dawg happily drove himself into a wall of snow that had banked up against the door, burrowing quickly into the sheer white face, and Sarah stood, wide-eyed, regarding a drift that was collar bone high on her diminutive frame.
Sarah shut the door quickly, for the cold air was merciless on her young legs, never minding the several layers of skirt, petticoats, pantalettes and stockings protecting her tender flesh: Sarah wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in an exaggerated imitation of what she'd seen adults do, mostly women who wanted their big, strong husbands to hug them.
"Twain Dawg, you be good," Sarah admonished the closed door, and turned back to her ceramic headed doll. "Mrs. Jacob Keller," she curtsied to the doll, "would you like some tea?" and poured pretend tea from a tiny ceramic teapot into the tiny, tiny cup in front of her ceramic headed doll.

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Lady Leigh 2-26-08

 

There was some tension in the air as Bonnie left the room and went upstairs. Caleb looked to Chen-chi, but didn’t have the chance to speak first before Chen-chi spoke, “ This is awkward for your wife Mr. Rosenthal, but with time, I trust she will be fine. It is awekward for me as well. A lot rests upon you here, if we can beg for your help.”

Caleb nodded, “Bonnie and James were close while growing up. He was older than her by several years, but close just the same. It is awkward hearing he was alive, and equally awkward hearing is ..... gone.” Caleb saw the pain in Chen-chi’s eyes, but the words she spoke commanded attention,

“It was James fate to die, but there will be consequences. Whoever killed James will be chastised, if they haven’t been already.

There are some who are interested in stopping us, wanting their goals to be pursued. I know you would oppose them, but you should also know I will not permit them to take from me without punishment. There are people in this organization who will go after them without hesitation, fear or pity.”

Bonnie heard every word ..... “Damn you James! Why didn’t you trust me .... trust us sooner?” Bonnie looked upward, “I’ll try not to let you down James. It’s what we’ve been wanting to pursue anyway. We’ll do our best .... that’s what I’ll promise, James!”

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Kid Sopris 2-26-08

 

Kwai Chang Listen to the facts of Kid's endeavors to rid the corruption centered around the Chinese immigration to the United States..It started with the Gold, the Railroads and Firelands; it quickly spread to the Chinese labor that could be bought cheaply.

Kwai Chang spoke:
趕狗入窮巷

"Don't chase a dog into a blind alley, it will have no choice but to make a desperate stand and attack you."

Sopris was well aware of Changs proverbs, but hopefully Changs understanding of the Chinese culture would be an asset to undermine the corruption. Damn the alleys or dog's.

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Linn Keller 2-26-08

 

Jacob stepped up into the passenger car, all he needed in his saddlebags: traveling money was in a wallet in his inside jacket pocket, the rest in a money belt; he dressed for warmth and to attract as little attention as possible.
The passenger car was cold -- he could see his breath -- and he'd known the seats would be wood, hard and chilly, so he carried a blanket, neatly folded, over his left forearm.
There was no one on the platform waving a good-bye. He'd said his goodbyes earlier: he'd taken pains to seek out Charlie MacNeil and had shaken the man's hand, and had thanked the man for his kindness; with a nod to Miz Fannie, he turned and was gone.
He was almost as brief with Miss Messman. His appearance, heralded by a draft of cold air, brought a smile to Duzy's face, and she pretended to study her draft copy while Jacob removed his hat, and Miss Messman stood. They spoke quietly, briefly, and Jacob raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, and Duzy had to look away, for she could not keep from smiling, and Miss Messman could not keep from sitting down, for being treated like a lady made her suddenly weak in the knees
The two women listened to the sound of Jacob's boot heels on the board walk outside, until he stepped off into the snow again, and was gone.
Jacob had personally seen to his Apple-horse's loading, and had stowed his saddle and scabbarded rifle and his saddlebags; Apple was restless at first, until Jacob bribed him with some of the small, sweet apples from his Pa's new trees.
Now he sat in the chilly passenger car, on the hard, cold wooden seat on his folded blanket, his coat unbuttoned and loose around him; he'd checked his holsters, made sure he could draw if need be, set his carpet bag between his feet, and looked out the window.
The Lady Esther's whistle blew a great noisy cloud of pure-white steam into the cold winter air, and she leaned into her burden, and Jacob was again headed east, towards the mighty Mississippi, only this time he would cross it, and go farther into civilization than he'd been for a very long time.

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Duzy Wales 2-26-08

 

Duzy stared outside the window of the newspaper office, watching the snow continue to fall, so beautiful, each snowflake unique…..just like people, she thought, as she contemplated her next article. The threat for her to stop writing had filled her with an anger that had been building inside her, one that had been simmering for days. Knowing that she had hit a nerve was all the proof she needed to dig further and to help expose those who were making a living in the slave trade.

Turning to her desk, Duzy picked up the file that she had found atop her dressing table, nights ago, the scent of roses still there….faint….yet still there, even though it had been left untouched since that evening. The file had been forgotten when Bonnie had gone into early labor and it was only this morning that Duzy had retrieved it from the cedar chest at the bottom of her bed, not saying a word to anyone.

The note attached to the inner cover was simple and to the point.

“Thought this may be of use to you, please be careful! K.S.”

Duzy had been surprised to find that the file contained all the information that United States Marshall Kid Sopris had been able to indulge, thus far, in his investigation of the Tong War. As Duzy began to read, she realized that the information would prove to be invaluable to her! Smiling, she thought of the man who had left it….an enigma to say the least….more like an Angel in wolves clothing….she thought….as he had placed the file behind her perfume bottles, discreetly in sight to her, as she sat and brushed her long hair one hundred strokes each night, just like her Mama had taught her.

Would the articles that came from this file bring more threats? It was likely, as there were many abuses to report…..abuses that turned Duzy’s stomach as she continued to read, and yet each sentence ignited the simmering fire inside her as she began to write.

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Linn Keller 2-26-08

 

Sarah stood up from her sociable tea and began to dance, or she thought of it as dancing; she ended up spinning like a curly-headed top, arms out, skirts flared, giggling and dizzy.
Her shoe caught on the edge of the rug and she fell, throwing her hands forward to break her fall, and her spotlessly pink left hand and almost the entire length of her right forearm seared into the side of the stove.
Bonnie's head snapped up as Sarah's scream pierced the momentary quiet.

The Sheriff had just shifted his weight backward, ready to rise; he'd been telling Chen-chi that she was safe among them, and most welcome, as she was family.
Chen-chi was not a fool, and she was not inexperienced in the ways of the world ... but there was a gentleness in the Sheriff's light-blue eyes, and she could see little flecks of gold embroidered on the winter ice of his eyes.
Then a little girl's scream dashed cold water across the moment.
Chen-chi's heart shriveled, and native superstition came roaring back from her past.
A woman in her village had arrived, a woman with yellow eyes. Demon, they called her, and she'd stayed among them for three days: on the first day, a child fell, and was cut on a broken pot shard; on the second day, a house burned; on the third, a woman miscarried, and the stranger with yellow eyes was seized, and tortured horribly, and strangled.
Chen-chi had been concumbine to the lord and was in attendance when the messenger arrived, and bowed low, and unrolled the scroll, reading the official account of the demon's execution.
Chen-chi remembered the woman's yellow eyes.
She saw that same yellow, now bright against the glacier ice set in the Sheriff's rigid face, a sliver of a moment before he was on his feet and heading for the back room at just under a dead run.
Caleb, frozen, looked to see his little girl holding up her burned limbs.
Bonnie's quick step was an urgent tattoo on the staircase as she came down, one hand on the railing, the other holding Polly close, and a shawl draped over.
The Sheriff snatched Sarah up. "Get the door!" he barked, and Caleb, his paralysis snapped, was at the door in one long stride and yanked it open.

Twain Dawg was happily snuffing about in his snow tunnel. He'd quickly dug down to ground level and found where the mice were running, under the grass, and made a game of trying to catch them. The snow kept falling on him, and he kept wallowing in the snow, delighting in this new game, until he heard Sarah's scream.
A thousand years' ancestry took over.
Twain Dawg launched himself at the door, snarling and barking, his chopping war-cry and furious claws attacking the closed and solid oak.
The door shivered as Twain Dawg threw himself into the assault.

Chen-chi shivered.
She'd been blessed with the warm safety of a good man's embrace, and then she'd seen the demon-fires in his eyes, and now a monster was trying to tear open the back door! Surely a dragon of misfortune had followed her to this cold and distant land and was going to eat them all!

The Sheriff snatched up a great handful of snow and pressed it into Sarah's palm, and another handful laid against her red and blistering forearm. He held the snow there for a long moment, and Sarah whimpered, her face pale, tears running bright streaks down her cheeks.
"Caleb," the Sheriff said in a quiet voice, "go to the Jewel and tell Daisy you need a pot of honey, and bring it to Duzy's office."
"Honey?" Caleb blinked. "Shouldn't we get her to the hospital?"
The Sheriff's look was reply enough, and Caleb began to run, floundering in the nearly knee-deep snow.
The Sheriff packed more snow around Sarah's hand and waded through the drifts, his coat wrapped around the shivering little girl.
He headed for Duzy's office, halfway between the Rosenthal house and the Jewel.

Under the snow, a red-eyed monster's chopping bark challenged the wooden door, then suddenly was quiet: Twain Dawg knew, somehow, that Sarah was no longer on the other side.
Twain Dawg fought for the surface, floundering in the drift.
His yammering snarl was suddenly loud on the winter wind.

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Linn Keller 2-27-08

 

Chen-chi shivered in the winter wind as she thrust her walking sticks, one, then the other, through the snow; the polished wood hissed quietly as it pierced the crystalline surface, and she pushed through the path broken by the men.
You called me family, she thought. Now let me see what kind of man you really are.
Bonnie had retreated back into the house to wrap little Polly, and herself, and follow Chen-chi. Bonnie was young, and strong, and powered by a mother's urgent need to BE WITH MY CHILD, MY LITTLE GIRL IS HURT AND I WILL BE WITH HER!! -- and she quickly caught up with the struggling Chen-chi.
The diminutive widow drew to one side, and bowed: a lifetime's training had taught her to be humble, submissive, yielding; unused to snow, she fell backwards, and struggled in its cold embrace.
Momentarily blind, she put both walking sticks in her left hand, and wiped snow away from her face.
There was a loud whuffing near her ear, and something warm licked her cheek, and she heard a dog's anxious whine; her hand came up and found a shaggy coat, then a strong hand seized her wrist, and Bonnie hauled her upright: fueled by adrenaline and fear, it was no task to bring the woman to her feet.
Had Chen-chi weighted half again more than the Sheriff, Bonnie could probably have hoist her.
"Come on, Twain Dawg," Bonnie commanded sternly, and Twain Dawg's scalp wrinkled up between his ears, and he thrust his muzzle into Chen-chi's hand, and her tiny hand closed about a handful of loose hide between Twain Dawg's shoulders.
Both canes in one hand, Twain Dawg supporting and towing her with the other, and Bonnie in the lead, the women labored through the drifting snow, following the path broken by the mens' urgent passage.

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Linn Keller 2-29-08

 

I remembered Dana's eyes, fever-bright as she shivered in my arms, and how weak her movements were, and I remembered seeing her leaving me, leaving me, as her eyes lost focus and her last breath sighed between fever-bright lips, and I held her in that dark and lonely cabin, grieving for my wife, dead and buried while I was yet below the Mason-Dixon, and now my little girl, dead in my arms, still warm, gone ...
My resolve gathered itself like a lion gathering its legs for a terrible battle, and I shoved against the snow that lay before me. We were nearly at Duzy's office. Caleb was with me, with orders to get that precious pot of honey, Bonnie and Chen-chi just coming out of their front door: I was making the best time I could, but knew I was breaking path for everyone else.
I'd stopped to snow Sarah's burns. I knew if I cooled them, fast, the damage would be reduced: if I could wet them and keep them wet they would hurt less. I stopped only long enough to snow her swelling hand and her blistered forearm, and to give Caleb his orders again, for he was pale, pale as a man gets when his own little girl is hurt!
I shouldered through Duzy's door. The look on my face was enough: Duzy dropped her papers and stood, and the knowing was upon her, and I set Sarah down in Duzy's office chair, and laid open my coat, and took her tiny elbows in my hands, and Sarah extended her arms, woodenly, her face white and set, her eyes seeing a hell from an earlier life: any child that's been abused will wall off the abuse, but sometimes the monster knocks a hole, just enough to peek through and to whisper obscenities enough to terrify the child, and I think that's what she was seeing, hearing.
I turned Sarah so her shoulder was to me and her arm pointing away, and I had her elbow in my left hand, and I said softly, "Sarah, I am going to make the fire go away. I am going to make it go away. Do you understand me, Sarah?"
Her head nodded, just a little, the tiny little nod of a terrified child who has been hurt and hurt and hurt again, and who is about to be hurt yet one more time, and knows there is no escape.
I cupped my hand, and pushed gently, pushing the fire away from me, blowing a gentle breath over her arm, as if slowly, gently blowing away a candle's flame, reciting the formula mentally as I blew.
Sarah shivered as the fires ran down her arm.
I reached the end of her arm and ran out of wind, so I took another, deeper breath, and drew my hand back.
"Duzy, see what I am doing," I said quietly, and Duzy shivered, her eyes big and liquid, and I said "Put your fingertips on the back of my hand," and I began to push again, to push away the fire, a slow, cupped-hand gesture, and Duzy's fingertips crackled as they touched the back of my hand, and she flinched, but she didn't pull away.
I pushed the fire and blew the fire, and recited the formula, and reached Sarah's little wrist.
Sarah was shivering a little now, and I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, but it would take one more to do the job.
I drew my hand back, and took one final deep breath, and I blew the fire and recited the formula, and as I recited, I saw it happen.
There came an angel from the East bearing frost and fire, the old mountain witch had written on that yellowed fly-leaf, and I could see the Angel roaring up over the horizon, all war and fury, a great frozen shield in its left hand made of a single giant snowflake, hard as diamond and bright as a winter moon, and I saw the sword of flame in its good right hand, striking left and right like a serpent, hotter than the heart of the Sun itself and able to cleave the earth to its core.
In frost, out fire, I recited, and the Angel swung its shield and smote the flame in the little girl's arm, and the flame ran before its frosted attack, ran like a campfire in a stiff wind, blowing away from her arm and dying for lack of fuel.
There came an angel from the East bearing frost and fire. In frost, out fire.
The Angel swung its frost-shield again, driving the hungry flame before it, and sweeping it into the outer darkness, away from this innocent child, a warrior summoned with ancient words, bent on saving one pure soul from an undeserved hell's flame.
There came and angel from the East bearing frost and fire. In frost, out fire, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost!
The flames fled before the swinging frost-shield, gibbering into a Nordic void of eternal cold, dying in their own darknesses, and I took Sarah's other elbow and I blew her little hand, and drew her fingers out straight, pulling on her unburned fingertips to straighten and separate her fingers.
"Miss Messman," I said, and my voice was surprisingly steady, "I need a clean cloth, a bedsheet in wide strips if you have it."
I heard quick footsteps and knew she was about the task.
Duzy sat down on her desk, confusion and understanding warring in her eyes, and I sagged: somewhere, I don't know where, I had a little strength left, and I made it slowly to my knees, and the door banged open again, and a draft of cold air hit my back and Caleb's quick step brought the crock of honey over to me.
I heard Duzy's quick breath as she got a good look at Sarah's blisters, and I took the honey crock and seized the wooden spoon Daisy had thrust into it, just before Caleb swept it out of her hands.
"Sarah," I said calmly, "hold out your hand, this will be messy."
Miss Messman appeared like magic with the torn, clean cloth. "Just in time," I said in the soothing voice I've used to good effect on wounded soldiers, scared deputies and frightened children. "Lay the cloth under her hand, yes. Just like that."
I applied a good layer of honey to Sarah's hand, and carefully tore another strip and wrapped each of her fingers and her thumb separately, all covered with the golden ungent: I anointed her forearm, and wrapped it, carefully, precisely: a second wrapping over everything, and Sarah's eyes had gone from vacant and frightened to questioning, and she looked at me, still scared but knowing all would be well and she said in her little child's voice, "Uncle Linn, it doesn't hurt anymore. Where did the hurt go?"
I felt the first tear roll over the dam I'd built behind my eyes, and I said "I sent it away," and my voice wasn't quite steady, and Sarah said "Thank you," and her voice curtsied.
I wrapped her up in my coat again, and picked her up and kissed her forehead, and I handed her to Caleb. "Get her to the hospital. Tell Doc I'm using honey to prevent infection."
"Sir!" Caleb said briskly, and Bonnie snatched the door open for him, and they were gone.
Duzy was still sitting on the corner of her desk. I could feel her wondering what in the world she'd just been part of.
Bonnie, I thought. Gone already.
Duzy's hand was warm on my shoulder.
I laid my hand on hers without turning.
"I need a drink," I said. "I would admire to buy you one."

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Linn Keller 3-1-08

 

Mr. Baxter looked up and smiled as the door opened, and Duzy and Miss Messman shivered in from the cold and the snow. The Sheriff followed, lagging long enough to stop at the main desk and borrow a slip of paper, and dip the steel quill and write something.
Mr. Baxter poured a tall Tequila for Duzy, and a short one for Miss Messman, and a third for the Sheriff: he usually took Kentucky, he thought, but he might like something different.
Mr. Baxter was right.
The Sheriff came over and handed the slip to Duzy. Mr. Baxter could not hear his quiet conversation, but he saw Duzy listen intently; the Sheriff was making a few gentle gestures, as if pushing something away or blowing on something ... must be a private joke, he thought as he polished the gleaming bar -- and he smiled as Miss Messman took a tentative sip of her tequila, and blinked in surprise, and waited a few moments before trying another sip.
The Sheriff had a crock under his off arm, and nodded to Mr. Baxter as he took the crock back to the kitchen. There was another conversation -- Mr. Baxter couldn't hear quite what was said -- Miss Messman had taken a bit too much of a sip, and was coughing delicately into her hand, trying very hard not to make a scene, but in some obvious discomfort.
Duzy picked up her tall glass and considered the eternity in its depths before turning it up and emptying it.
Miss Messman's eyes were huge with respect, and she tried another sip of hers, taking a deep breath before imbibing. She had a little better success this time, and her small volume was on its way down when the first shot from the Mexican cannon hit bottom, and she felt a warm flush start in her middle and radiate quickly outward.
Esther came downstairs, pinching the bridge of her nose and blinking. She'd spent the morning staring at the books, working columns of figures and going over reports; she was in search of a nice cup of tea, and perhaps a pleasant conversation, before going back to running her railroad, and she smiled at Duzy.
Duzy was studying the slip in her hand, other hand over her mouth, and Esther, curious, took a look at it as well.
"That's odd," she murmured.
"The Sheriff wrote this out for me," Duzy said uncertainly.
Esther shook her head slowly. "No," she said, "no, that's not my husband's hand. That looks like something an old woman would write." She smiled at Mr. Baxter, and went back towards the kitchen.
Duzy stared at the handwritten incantation for a long time, sipping on her second tall Tequila without really tasting it.

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Linn Keller 3-2-08

 

I wiped my face on the wrung-out towel Daisy handed me.
She had taken one look at the set of my face and steered me toward her rocking chair, and gently settled my long tall frame in it, and wrung out a towel quick-dunked in the water bucket, and handed it to me.
I rested my elbows on my knees, the towel in my palms, my face in the towel, and I set there and shook.
Daisy was happily supervising her kitchen, Little Sean on her hip; she was in constant motion: stirring this, tasting that, peeking in the oven, thumping the top of a fresh-baked loaf of bread. Daisy ran her kitchen like a captain runs a ship, and her kitchen was warm and smelled of good food, and I had no appetite a'tall.
"Here, now, open up," Daisy said briskly, and I raised my head, and reflexively opened my mouth. She slid the big spoonful of honey into my yap, and I swallowed it, surprised.
"Now be out there wi' the folks that need ye," she said with a wink and a bounce of Little Sean, who was laughing at my expression. "Honey'll be good f'r the stomach, especially wi' ye menfolk an' yer drinkin' ways. Be off wi' ye, now," and made a shooing motion.
From anyone else it would have been a slap in the face.
From Daisy it was the gentle hand of a friend on the shoulder. She'd given me the moment I needed to collect myself, and to put away the memories that swarmed up from where they'd been buried so long.
Esther was coming down the hall as I was going out, and she caught my arm and spun me about as light as milkweed down on an autumn breeze; Daisy, bless her, had hot water ready, and Esther soon had her tea, and we made our way back to the bar, where Mr. Baxter slid the tequila toward me with a wink and a nod.
I am not much of a drinkin' man. I'll take a snort of Old Stump Blower every now and again, but not all that often ... today, though, I tilted up that Mexican cannon and dumped a full charge of cactus squeezin's down my throat and never batted an eye.
Duzy's eyebrows raised in ... surprise? Admiration? Maybe aggravation, I thought. I'd just put her through quite a time.
Miss Messman set her half-consumed drink delicately on the bar and stepped back, smiling at Esther and I. I nodded with a smile, and Esther and I sat at the nearest table, and glad I was to sit down again.
Esther took a sip of her tea, closed her eyes and hummed a little note of pleasure as the after-smells climbed up the back of her throat. We sat there in a companionable silence for a minute or so, and it felt good to relax.
I hadn't realized my eyes were closed until I opened them as Esther's fingers laid delicately on my arm. "You're still building up from being shot," Esther said quietly.
"Shot?" Miss Messman squeaked, and I leaned over and drew out a chair, for I was fearful she might get fainty or something.
"Why, yes," I replied. "Jacob killed the two that tried to bushwhack me, and him in the line of fire. Steady as a rock he was, and he kept us alive."
"Give yourself due credit, dear," Esther said reprovingly. "If I recall correctly, you spun me around like a feather to get me behind that stack of firewood and out of danger!"
"Jacob saved your lives?" Miss Messman said, and she had the expression of a young girl reading of King Arthur and knights in tin suits and the like.
"He did," I affirmed, "and he is now on a quest, on my behalf: he is gone back East to find, apprehend, and bring back, the man who set those murderers upon me!"
Miss Messman's fingertips were hesitantly to her lips, her eyes big: "Jacob?"
I nodded. "He's near to a man, Miss Messman. He's some older than I thought he was. You're ..." I closed one eye, remembering. "You were graduated at fourteen?"
She nodded.
"You are now... fifteen?"
She nodded again.
"At your age I was a man grown and doing a man's work. Jacob is doing no less."
"Will he be all right?" Miss Messman worried.
"He is his father's son," Esther said reassuringly. "He'll do fine!"

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Linn Keller 3-2-08

 

Jacob belted the unwashed ruffian across the back of the head with his right-hand Colt.
The man went limp across Jacob's lap, nerveless fingers surrendering Jacob's purloined wallet. Jacob picked it up, restored it to his inside coat pocket, holstered his revolver and seized the scoundrel by the lapels.
Jacob stood, bringing the man with him.
The conductor was frozen, mouth half-open.
Jacob pinned the man against the door frame, went through his pockets quickly, expertly.
"See here," the conductor stammered, "you, you, you can't do that!" and made as if to reach for Jacob.
Jacob drew his right-hand Colt and eared the hammer back.
The conductor saw eternity yawning in the two foot bore and backed away, hands raised to shoulder height.
Jacob lowered the hammer and holstered his Colt, turned over his lapel to display the badge. "Deputy sheriff," he said quietly, and the conductor's mouth made a silent "O."
The thief had little on him but two dollars and a dull clasp knife, which Jacob let him keep; he opened the back door of the passenger car and laid the fellow on the platform outside, then came back in.
He walked up to the quaking conductor. "Mister," he said, "when I am a guest on your train, I don't want nobody going through my pockets when I'm asleep. If you can't keep order I'll just go ride in the stable car with my horse."
So saying, he sidled past the man and departed for the company of his Appaloosa.

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Charlie MacNeil 3-2-08

 

Charlie was just about to step into the bar when he saw Linn slam down the shot of tequila like it was a tot of mountain spring water. He watched the shudder ripple through the big man's frame and a small, hard smile crossed his lips. Charlie'd been there, done that a time or two before and was pretty sure he knew what Linn was going through. He'd heard about Linn's cooling of the little girl's burns and had an inkling of what it entailed, both physically and mentally.

Charlie didn't have even the faintest vestige of that kind of power but he'd heard of it and he'd experienced it firsthand himself. It was the only explanation he could come up with. He'd been up in the Lakota nation one time years back chasing a man who had killed a bank teller and two women during a robbery when he found himself the hunted instead of the hunter. He'd dragged himself into a Sioux hunting camp with two holes in his hide that were bigger on the button side of his shirt than they were on the other. He'd been damn near bled out when he found the camp. When he fell on his face beside their fire he wasn't sure whether to be afraid he was gonna die or wish he would so he'd feel better. He woke up two days later with just some itchy scabs front and back and an appetite that would have done justice to a grizzly bear fresh from his winter's den. He'd never been sure exactly what happened but he was sure and certain that something he'd never seen before had been part of it.

Charlie watched the play of expression crossing Linn's face. He also noticed the way that cute as a button Miss Messman gingerly set her half full glass on the bar and turned to follow Linn and Esther to their table. He waited for a pause in the conversation before he approached the table. "You look like death on a cracker, pardner," Charlie told Linn. "If you were any whiter we could pin you up on the wall and show magic lantern pictures on you."

Miss Messman turned on him indignantly. "Sheriff Keller just saved little Sarah Rosenthal's arm, and possibly her life," she stoutly. "How could you be so insensitive?" she demanded.

Charlie turned his brightest smile on the young lady. "My apologies, ma'am," he said. "I didn't realize my words would offend you." He turned to Linn with a wink. "And I hope you can accept my most profound apology, Sheriff Keller," he said. "I had no idea you were such a hero."

"And you, my friend, are as full of crap as a Christmas goose," Linn told Charlie. "Are you going to sit down, or just stand there and keep being obnoxious?"

Charlie pulled out a chair, spun it around, and sat on it with his arms crossed on the top rung of the ladderback chair. He was careful not to turn his back on Miss Messman. His mama had taught him some manners, and chief among them was to be polite to ladies, and if he was any judge of character at all the young librarian was indeed a lady.

"Never mind them," Esther said to Miss Messman. "They're men. They do that sort of thing. At least these men do. You'll get used to it when you're part of the, er, after a while."

"I heard what you did for Sarah," Charlie said, all humor gone from his voice now. "Good work. I think Miss Messman is right, you may have saved her life. Losing her would just about kill Miss Bonnie." A cup of coffee appeared over his shoulder in Daisy's hand. He turned and looked at her and the baby.

"Miss Daisy, if that critter gets any bigger he's gonna be packing you around the kitchen instead of the other way around," he said.

"Oh, go on with you, Charlie MacNeil," Daisy said tartly as she turned back toward the kitchen.

"Thanks for the coffee," he called after her. He turned back to Linn and Esther. "I have to go to Denver to take care of some paperwork but I don't think Fannie's quite ready to go yet," he said. "I sort of overheard part of a conversation between her and Miss Duzy about wedding planning. I seem to have created a monster, so to speak." He chuckled. "So anyway, I'm on tomorrow's train but I'm planning on being back in four or five days. Just thought I'd let you know in case somebody accidentally noticed I was missing and wondered about it."

"Charlie MacNeil, Senior US Marshal," Linn said speculatively. "Kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"I don't know about that, but I'll just about guarantee they ain't had a boss up there like they're about to get," Charlie said. He got to his feet and slugged down the last of his coffee. "See ya in a few days. And I know it's none of my business, Miss Esther, but it might be a good idea if you were to manacle this gent to a bed somewhere until he sleeps for about a day. He looks plumb peaked." He tipped his hat to the ladies and had started to leave the room when Linn spoke.

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Kid Sopris 3-2-08

 

It was dark when the East bound train pulled into Firelands. No one saw the two images depart from the rear car and began to unload the crates of ammo and firearms. US Marshall Sopris, appropriated the necessary wagon to carry the equipment.

The heavy wagon/sled combination left a deep rut in the snow packed ground on it's way to the Sheriff's office.

Sopris remarked that the town seems to be unusually preoccupied, and the Sheriff's office was empty upon their arrival. Chang remarked to Sopris that the office smells of fresh coffee, perhaps there would be some hot water for some green tea as well.

The two men quickly emptied the wagon and loaded the supplies into a empty cell. Chang volunteered to return the wagon , along the same trail as it originally made, but only after leading the wagon in a confusing state of misdirection to thwart any adventurous busy-bodies or nosey folks.

Chang's profile was so low key that the wagon almost appeared to be driving itself.

Chang was back at the Sheriff's office within 20 minutes, without even leaving evidence that he ventured there.

Warmth of the Sheriff's office was all that was needed tonight; Both men new that more dangerous work lay ahead. Kid took the first watch.

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Duzy Wales 3-3-08

 

After Duzy had downed the third shot of tequila and had begun to feel a bit more at ease, she asked Fred to tell anyone who asked that she was going to her room for a few minutes. Trying to be inconspicuous, and yet feeling the need to get out of the room full of people, Duzy opened her door and quickly went to her bed to lie down for a few minutes. She held her hands to her heart, still beating quickly, and could feel the warmth clear through her bodice and corset! It was from Uncle Linn’s hands, the same heat that had gone from his hands to hers as they held little Sarah’s arm.

In her mind, the words, “frost in, fire out….frost in, fire out,” kept repeating themselves. In all her years of having visions, the power she had just felt was unlike anything she had known before, not even the stopping of the blood! Could she ever do justice to what Uncle Linn was teaching her?

Uncle Linn had always been someone Duzy looked up to, the way he treated Aunt Esther, his wisdom, the many things he had taught her, the unconditional love, the unending thoughtfulness, and then, at times like this, the awe!

The incantation on the note was another mystery. Had she not seen Uncle Linn write it? And yet, Aunt Esther had been right; it was not his handwriting, but that of an old mountain Witch! Had Uncle Linn told her that as they worked or had she sensed it herself? At this moment, Duzy believed in whatever came, whatever felt right, whatever helped, whatever it was she was meant to be, with the help and guidance of those few she trusted to be her mentors, as she was open to whatever was good in the world, and to whatever God meant for her to do.

Suddenly, Duzy felt a presence in the room and tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. The fact that she wasn’t scared didn’t even enter her mind until much later.

There were two shadows and then only one, and as the one shadow came closer, Duzy could hear the words, “You are the chosen one; you have much to do!” And then the shadow was gone.

Duzy knew she had been in a trance, and yet she had been given so little information. What was it she was meant to do now? Seeming to not find any peace, Duzy left to find Bonnie. There had been a woman that Duzy didn’t know, a woman that had been watching closely to what Linn had been teaching her, a woman who Duzy felt would impact her life in some way, and Bonnie knew who she was!

Duzy wrapped a hooded cloak around her, slipping through the kitchen door, and away from the crowd in the lobby, as she stepped out into the snow. She could only wonder how Bonnie was faring, after all, she had been carrying little Polly, trudging through the snow, so soon after giving birth, to follow Uncle Linn to her office, and then had watched as she heard the words from little Sarah, “where did the hurt go?” Would this be a setback to Bonnie’s health or to the tiny baby she had held?

Duzy hurriedly walked to find Bonnie and had a nagging feeling that she was being watched. Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone, but the feeling persisted just as strongly as if she could see whoever it was standing next to her.

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Linn Keller 3-3-08

 

Chen-chi, fatigued, still held Twain Dawg's ruff and leaned on him as much as was guided by him.
Twain Dawg had satisfied himself Sarah was no longer in distress, and knew somehow he was needed, and so was content to tow Chen-Chi, and to support her little weight.
Twice she stopped, shivering in the snow-path broken by urgent feet, and twice she pressed on, and came finally to the Jewel.
Dawg reached up a paw and scratched at the door, barking a single, sharp, puppy-note, and the door pushed open, and Twain Dawg caught it with his nose, and his shoulder, and pushed against it.
Strong hands caught Chen-chi, and she sagged into their embrace.

"Charlie," Linn said, smiling tiredly, "not only are you better lookin' than I am, you're quite a bit smarter." He put his hands on the table and leaned forward to push himself up. "I reckon a good long nap sounds pretty good."
Charlie regarded Linn with a critical eye. "You sure you can make it home, old hoss? You still don't look a darn bit better!"
Linn settled his hat on his head, straightening with that reassuring grin of his. "I can make it," he said confidently, and offered his arm to Esther, and the other arm to Miss Messman.
The ladies each took an arm, and Linn took one step and swayed dangerously.
Charlie leaned across the table and got one hand on Linn's shoulder. "You just sit yourself down, my hard headed friend," he said quietly.
Linn saw the wisdom of his friend's words and did just that.
Charlie said quietly, "Miz Esther, keep this contrary fellow set down until I get that sleigh, would you?"
Esther's smile was velvet, and Charlie could see the steel behind it. "I appreciate your kindness, Senior US Marshal." Her eyes softened. "You're a good friend, you know that."
Charlie's ears warmed and flushed and he headed for the door.
There was a yip and a scratch from without, and as Charlie opened the door, a diminutive widow-woman fell into his surprised arms.
Twain Dawg planted his square bottom and ran out his pink tongue and laughed.

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Linn Keller 3-3-08

 

Charlie set me down with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I've seen the man in action and I'm satisfied if he'd wanted he could grab a good hand full of my shirt front and hoist me off the ground one handed, but his touch wasn't strenuous, just ... well, just enough.
Matter of fact a sick child could have pushed me hard enough to set me down.
I sagged in my chair, more tired than I have been in a very long time, and Esther was saying something, and Miss Messman laughed, a quiet little tinkling laugh, and I felt as much as heard Charlie's surprise, and I was on my feet and moving.
He had Chen-chi under the arms, and I leaned down and scooped her up, and I don't know which of the three of us was the more surprised.
I headed back for the kitchen.
Daisy would have warm water and a dish pan, I thought, and hot tea, and that nice friendly rocking chair.
Things were kind of hazy but I made it, and set Chen-chi down, and pulled off her little cloth shoes -- good Lord, I thought, her feet are cold and wet, no wonder she's miserable! -- and Daisy set that dish pan of warm water down beside me, and I dunked my hand in it. Barely warm.
Just right, I thought, and I don't recall removing Chen-chi's stockings. Maybe one of the women did. I don't recall. I do remember easing her feet gently, slowly, in the tepid water, rubbing them gently -- they were red, and cold, and wet, but not the white of frostbite -- and saying something, quietly, kindly, like I was soothing a fretful child, and Chen-chi said something in Chinese, I think, must be their way of asking a question with your name on the end.
Funny thing, foreign languages.
She said something like a question, sounded like Shao-Linn?
There was a firm hand on my shoulder and Dr. Flint's voice in my ear, and kindly hands steered me out of Daisy's kitchen and back down the hallway.
I stopped long enough to set my hat back on my head. For the life of me I couldn't recall losing it but I must have, and then things got real spotty.
I recall being in the sleigh and someone draping that heavy buffalo robe around me, and then my boots were being pulled off and the sleigh was our bed, and Esther's voice was saying something and clean sheets and a comforter were being drawn up around my ears, and I closed my eyes ...

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Charlie MacNeil 3-3-08

 

When Charlie got back with the sleigh Linn was for all practical purposes passed out in a chair in the lobby of the Jewel. Charlie looked at Miss Esther. "Ma'am, what I'm about to do ain't gonna be all that dignified, but it's the only way I can see to get this big galoot home. Would you please get the door?" Charlie took Linn's arm, gave him a yank that propelled him onto his feet, and tucked his shoulder in the big man's belly and slung Linn up on his shoulder. He grunted with the weight but kept his feet and headed for the door. Linn was a dishrag on his shoulder. A dang heavy dishrag but a dishrag nonetheless.

Charlie got himself and his burden through the door and down to the street and lowered Linn into the sleigh. He stood for a moment rubbing his shoulder. "You must be feeding him good, ma'am," he said with a laugh.

"Actually, I believe Daisy is the one who's been trying to fatten him up," Esther chuckled. "She seems to think all men should be as big as her Sean."

"Well, he ain't particularly fat, but whoever said he ain't heavy, he's my brother, hasn't packed Linn Keller anywhere on his shoulder." He handed Esther into the sleigh. "We'd best get him to his bed." He picked up the reins and clucked to the team. "Get up, boys."

At the Keller's house, Charlie managed to get Linn on his feet and navigating in a more or less straight line through the door. He set Linn in a chair just inside and pulled off his snowy boots and stepped out of his own. Esther led the way up the stairs and into their bedchamber and Charlie helped her get Linn more or less arranged on the linen sheets covering the feather tick and piled blankets on top of him. Before the last quilt came to rest a sound like a crosscut saw cutting through a liveoak stump was floating somewhat less than gently from the pillows.

Downstairs, Esther invited Charlie to stay for coffee. "It will only take a few minutes, if you'd like some, Charlie."

"I reckon I'll take a raincheck, ma'am. I need to get a bag packed for tomorrow." He stamped into his boots. "I'll look in on Linn in the morning before I get on the train." He grinned. "But I expect he'll still be sawing logs in the morning." He tipped his hat and went out, closing the door behind him and going to the sleigh.

Back at the hotel, Charlie was stuffing a clean shirt and a change of underwear in a small bag along with a couple of boxes of ammunition when Fannie appeared in the connecting door and stood leaning against the doorjamb. "What's the ammo for?" she asked.

"It's for in case I need to protect myself in the big city," Charlie answered.

"You're going to Denver, for pity's sake," Fannie said wryly. "Not Natchez Under the Hill. How dangerous do you think it's going to be?"

"There are greater dangers in this world than first meet the eye," Charlie said in a sonorous voice. He grinned at her. "Besides, who knows whether or not the folks currently residing in the Marshal's office are gonna be happy to have a new boss? They've pretty much had things their own way for quite a while."

"So you're gonna go show them there's a new dog in town, eh?" Fannie asked.

Charlie snapped his fingers. "Speaking of dogs, that reminds me," he said. "I need to check on Dawg. I haven't been there to keep an eye on him. And besides, he needs to get introduced to my office staff, ya know?"

"Where is Dawg, anyway?" Fannie asked.

"I left him with a good friend of mine in the mountains over yonder." Charlie pointed with his chin in the general direction of west. "I guess I'll be a little late getting to the office. I'll have to take a ride up Cherry Creek first." He set his bag near the door and piled a heavy coat, wool scarf, and sheep-lined elkhide mittens on it. He turned back toward Fannie. "Now then, my dear," he leered comically, "what shall we do until train time?"

"Your train isn't until tomorrow morning at eight," Fannie exclaimed.

"Then I guess we'd best hurry, hadn't we?" Charlie asked.

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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.

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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?”

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 .....”

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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.

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