Heart Eye Pumpkin
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The first thing I did when I got home took a bath. The second thing I did was wash my hair in the kitchen sink and put on clean clothes, which meant a new dress made of calico with a red lace around the neckline that I’d had sewn for me by a seamstress friend of mine named Mary Jane.
It took three hours to sew the dress but two minutes to throw it in the wash after I wore it. The last time I’d worn it, someone had thrown up on me.
I washed my face, brushed out my long black curls into loose ringlets, and put on a dab of perfume. Then I went back to the living room where I’d left my suitcase, opened it, and pulled out two items: an old pair of gray woolen stockings with holes in them and a brown leather belt, which I hung on one coat hanger and laid the rest of my belongings in another box.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked, coming from the dining room carrying his dinner tray. “You’re not supposed to be here until next week.”
“Tom, we need to talk.” I tried to sound calm so he wouldn’t panic.
He set down the tray in front of me and stood staring at me. “Is everything all right? Are you sick?”
“No, no,” I said, waving my hand. “Everything’s fine. Everything will work out just fine.”
“All right then.” He picked up the plate of food. “It looks like there might be some chicken soup left over if you want it for lunch tomorrow or—”
“There won’t be any soup because I’m leaving.” My voice came out as a whisper. It surprised me how calm I was about it.
“Where do you think you’re going? Where is your father taking you?”
“Away from here. Away from him. We can leave this house together, or separately, whichever you prefer.”
“But what about school?”
“We’ll make it work.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“As long as I have to, but we’ll see. Now let’s eat our dinner before it gets cold.” I held up my hands, palms out, to stop his protests. “Please don’t argue with me anymore tonight.”
After he ate, I cleaned up the dishes while he sat on the sofa trying to decide whether to talk to me again or not.
I finished putting away my few belongings and walked down to the street where Tom followed a moment later. As we rode the short distance to the station, I couldn’t help thinking that we were making a terrible mistake.
But I knew Tom would never agree to leave the ranch, so I decided not to worry about it. If nothing else, I’d go through with the plan and leave the ranch behind. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t done something similar before.
When I’d told my mother I was going to run away from home and live on my own, she’d given me permission. But instead of leaving, I’d taken off for New York City where I worked as a servant girl under a fake name, then became a governess, married a minister, and ran a boardinghouse.
All of which meant I’d become Mrs. John Matherson, which I hated. But still, it was better than being Tom’s wife who could only look forward to getting married once her husband died—or worse yet, having children and giving birth to babies.
On top of the fear of what would happen at the ranch after I left, there was the fear of leaving Tom. I didn’t know how I could possibly stay away from him.
As soon as we arrived at the depot, I handed Tom my ticket and turned to look back at the ranch house for the last time. There were lights glowing inside; the curtains fluttered in the wind, and I saw that even though the door to the barn looked closed, it too was illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp inside.
When I stepped onto the train, I felt a lump in my throat. I wanted to tell Tom goodbye but knew that the words wouldn’t come, so I just nodded.
“Good luck,” he said.
“And you.”
Then the train lurched forward and began to roll toward the distant horizon.
***
The train stopped at the first of many stations, and I got off. Tom’s eyes searched my face for a reaction, but I pretended not to notice and went down the aisle looking for Willoughby’s office. As soon as I found it, I went inside and told the porter to announce that Miss Emily Parker had arrived.
I spent several minutes trying to locate Willoughby, finally asking the desk clerk if he could show me the way. It took a little more walking through dimly lit passages and past other train conductors’ offices, but then I reached his office, pulled open the door, and entered.
Willoughby smiled when he saw me and waved me into the chair across from his desk.
“Emily!” His gray hair seemed to glow in the low light of the room. “Thank God you’ve arrived safely. And thank God you decided to get off in Denver instead of Salt Lake City. You did the right thing. I thought you might want to wait here until morning, so I sent Mr. Hargis with another letter.”
He opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a large envelope. “Here’s another note from your father.” He pushed it toward me.
I grabbed the envelope and ripped open the flap. My heart pounded with excitement as I read the short message. “Miss Parker, I am pleased to inform you that the terms of your inheritance have been finalized. I hope to meet you personally before you leave for Chicago.”
My fingers shook as I reread his words, and I felt tears building behind my eyes. “You’re going to give me a check?”
“That’s right.”
“For ten thousand dollars?”
He nodded, his bushy eyebrows lifting slightly.
“This will change everything.” I leaned over to hug Willoughby tightly and whispered, “Thank you.”
“No thanks are necessary. I’m glad you’re safe, and I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I’ll write a letter when I reach Chicago, so you won’t forget me.”
“I’d like that very much.”
We both rose from our chairs and then he escorted me outside of his office and back toward the front of the train where a guard waited, holding the doors open for me. The conductor stood beside him; he handed me my ticket and waved goodbye as we passed. Then I was out on the platform.
A whistle sounded behind me, and two locomotives came thundering into view, pulling a string of freight cars. One was red while the second one was blue. Both were so loud, I couldn’t imagine living near a railroad station.
On top of that, I remembered what Willoughby had told me about trains carrying explosives during the war. I’d always assumed they were harmless but now wondered if that was true or whether they had anything to do with the explosions at the depot in Kansas City.
“Wait here,” the guard said when we reached the end of the train, where there was an open caboose waiting for us. As soon as I got in, he closed the door, locked it and gave me directions to Chicago.
The train rolled slowly away from Denver and into the night sky. It traveled through the Rocky Mountains and crossed the Continental Divide, passing under an archway of stone that stretched high above us. In this dark hour, the mountains were majestic, appearing black against the moonlit sky.
When we reached Colorado Springs, the train stopped for nearly an hour so crews could switch the tracks around, which made the trip take longer than planned. But by midnight we were moving again toward Salt Lake City.
After a few hours, the train crossed the border into Utah, and then we started climbing toward the Wasatch Mountains. We left behind the desert of southern Utah and entered the snow-capped peaks of the state.
As soon as I could see the lights of Ogden, I climbed up to the observation deck. At last, after all these months, I was nearing my goal. I sat alone staring at the stars, wondering how I would spend my ten thousand dollars and thinking about the future.
“Miss Parker.” It was the voice of a man calling to me from behind me. I turned and found Tom standing on the stairs of the observation deck. I hadn’t heard him approach.
“Are you leaving already?” I asked, surprised that he had returned so soon.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t lost in this wilderness. And also to tell you I have a friend who has some land near Ogden.”
“I don’t think we have time—”
“I have lots of free time,” Tom said. He moved closer and lowered himself onto the bench beside me, making it obvious why he had come back from his patrol. “It looks like you’re headed toward Ogden anyway,” he continued. “You can’t stay long though—not even a day. There’s too much work to do before you arrive in Chicago.”
“What kind of work? Are you going to show me around town?”
“That’s just one of many things. If you like, I can introduce you to my sister.”
“I would like that very much.”
Tom chuckled lightly and leaned toward me, saying quietly, “Of course, she’ll probably be married before you even reach her house.”
“That’s okay. I know it’s hard for women to find husbands nowadays.”
“That’s not what I mean. She isn’t marrying anyone until she finds someone who suits her.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a rancher. Why should she marry you?”
“She wants someone respectable.”
“And you think I fit that description?”
“If she only knew how many men want to marry a beautiful woman, especially a pretty young one.” He smiled faintly. “But it is a shame you aren’t a rancher since you could help your sister out and maybe marry her brother.”
I stared at him, my brow furrowing as I tried to sort out what he meant. Did he really hope I could convince his sister to marry him? Or did he just wish to be my husband instead? I felt my mouth go dry, and the muscles in my legs went weak.
I wasn’t the kind of girl who usually worried about such matters but now, sitting here alone in the dark, I realized that Tom was right—if I married him, we might get to live happily ever after. My stomach was knotted when I thought of Tom becoming a farmer and raising cows on his own ranch.
The thought didn’t bother me at first; but as I considered it more, it began to weigh on me, filling me with doubt and uncertainty. Could he really become a successful rancher and manage his land well enough to support a wife and children?
Would he give up law enforcement to run a farm and raise children? What if he never got around to building a house or getting married because he spent all his days working in the field?
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head, and quickly changing the subject. “What do you say we play a game of solitaire? I haven’t played in years.”
Tom shook his head and laughed softly. “Solitaire won’t keep us entertained for long,” he said, picking up his cards, “but I guess that’s better than nothing.”
We played our cards, and I won every hand. Then we talked for several minutes while he taught me a new trick. By the time I finished my third card game, both hands were sweating and damp. “It’s getting late,” I said. “Why don’t you return to your post?”
He looked away for a moment as if searching for something in his pockets. Then he stood and took his revolver off the holster strapped to his side. “There’s something you should see.”
The train was still running through the night, and I followed him down the stairs to the lower deck. As soon as we stepped outside, I saw Tom pointing toward the lights of Salt Lake City ahead. A crowd was gathered on the platform watching the train pass by. Several people waved and shouted to the engineer.
“Do you think they know I’m here?” I whispered.
“I doubt it,” Tom said softly. “Not unless my sister has sent out word already.”
“What will happen when I reach Ogden?”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ve worked hard to get there and you deserve to have an easy life for once.”
“You seem so certain. Is that what you think of me?”
“Yes… and no.” He hesitated, then said, “It doesn’t matter. You must hurry. Your sister is expecting you.”
***
As Tom led me down the street, I couldn’t stop staring at his broad shoulders and thick neck. How strong was he? Was he stronger than a man-at-arms? And what was that thing sticking out of his pocket? I wanted to ask him but decided against it. I didn’t want him thinking me too curious, although curiosity had gotten me into trouble before.
A few blocks later, Tom pulled me out of the way of a horse and buggy coming down the road. “Watch out,” he said as the carriage came within inches of hitting me. “Somebody’s driving this one crazy.”
“Maybe it’s you. Don’t try to run over me again.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. He put his hand on my arm, guiding me across the street to walk beside him. We made our way past buildings and businesses until we reached another bridge spanning a canal filled with barges.
On the far side, near the railroad tracks, I spotted a large sign hanging from a pole: “Ogden Daily Herald.” It was barely visible in the distance, but Tom was quick enough to spot it too. He stopped and pointed. “Your newspaper is right there,” he said. “You should be able to find a job there.”
“Will I have a chance at being a reporter?”
“Of course. You’re smart and beautiful, which should make you stand out. Just don’t try to write any gossip columns or articles with salacious titles. No woman wants her name associated with those sorts of stories.”
“Good advice,” I murmured. I was grateful to learn that Tom would help me get settled. I wondered why he hadn’t offered to accompany me home, but I didn’t question it. I was happy knowing he’d be waiting for me in the morning.
Then something strange happened—we turned the wrong way and walked into a dark alley between two rows of tall buildings. The narrow street was so dimly lit and quiet that I could hardly breathe. I stopped to look around and listened intently.
There seemed to be no one else here. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see Tom nearby, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Tom!” I called, wondering what sort of place we had just wandered into. “Where are you?”
My voice echoed loudly back at me, startling me so much that I nearly jumped to the ground. I waited a minute for a reply, but none came. I started walking toward where I thought we should be, but the darkness seemed to stretch forever. It was as if all light had been sucked out of Ogden and replaced with an oppressive silence that made me feel trapped.
“Come on,” a man’s voice whispered behind me, sending a chill down my spine. I spun around and ran. The sound of feet pounding behind me kept me moving forward without realizing I wasn’t wearing shoes anymore. My bare feet sank into the soft dirt of the alleyway, and suddenly a loud crash sounded ahead of me.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” yelled the stranger.
I heard the click of a revolver being cocked and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. The gunman was aiming straight at me. Before I could turn and face him, the barrel touched my forehead. I froze for a moment, unable to blink. Then something sharp struck me above the eye, and I stumbled backward.
“Are you going to stop?” he asked, taking aim.
“No!” I shouted, shaking my head to try and rid myself of whatever it was that stuck there. But it only got worse, like a piece of ice pressed against the skin, making me cry out and fall to my knees. A man appeared from the shadows of the buildings and grabbed my assailant by the shoulder, pulling him back. “Let her go,” he commanded.
The man looked up at me with cold eyes, then took a step closer, reaching for his weapon. His companion let me go, stepping away slowly, and aimed his pistol in front of himself, pointing it at the newcomer who now blocked my attacker’s escape.
“What do you want with her?” demanded my rescuer. “And why did you bring her into Ogden? Did you come here to kill her?”
“You’ve got me all wrong,” replied the gunman. He lowered his gun, and I saw how badly he was bleeding from a long gash on his cheekbone and nose. He wiped it on his shirt, then held his wounded arm close to him. “She’s with me.”
“With you?” The man shook his head, then glared at me. “How did she get mixed up with you anyway? I know you didn’t meet her on a train.”
“I picked her up outside of Laramie,” explained Tom. “I thought she might come in handy.”
“So your plan was to kidnap her in Laramie?”
“It wasn’t that bad,” said Tom. “Just take her home.”
“We can’t just leave her here to wander around alone,” the other man objected. He took a step forward and pointed his gun at Tom. “Who knows what kind of trouble she’ll cause once she finds some friends.”
“Why are you so worried about me getting hurt?” I asked, looking up at Tom. He reached down and pulled me to my feet. “I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess if you hadn’t led us off track.”
He shrugged. “Sorry.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” replied the man. He lowered his gun, but I felt as if it would still be trained on me until we were clear of the alley.
“I hope you won’t hold any grudges over our little misunderstanding,” said Tom, glancing at me apologetically. “That’s the second time I’ve put a bullet through someone in Ogden today. Maybe it’s time we headed back before things get any worse.”
The stranger nodded. “All right.”
As soon as the men were gone, I turned and raced back toward the main part of Ogden. When I found an open street again, I hurried along the sidewalk to where we had first entered the town. All I wanted to do was find a place to hide and lick my wounds, which included trying to figure out just what had happened in that alley.
Was it a coincidence that my captor had been so near when my attacker arrived? Or was it because he was following Tom’s trail?
Once in Ogden, I’d been able to see clearly enough where we were—even in the dark. Now I was lost. The streets we traveled didn’t look familiar, and I wasn’t sure we were even heading in the right direction. If the men who attacked Tom followed him after we left Laramie, it was possible they were still searching for us.
“Are you all right?” Tom called from far ahead of me.
I hesitated, not wanting to answer for fear that my voice would give away my location. Then I decided to reply to his question anyway, just in case. “Yes.”
“Good,” he shouted back. “Keep moving and stay on that side of the street. We’re almost there.”
When Tom stopped at a corner, I glanced around but couldn’t tell where Ogden ended or started. There was no sign of the city limits. And the buildings on both sides looked pretty much the same. It seemed to go on forever.
After Tom crossed the street, I stayed behind him while I searched for a landmark. As soon as I spotted one, I hurried across, too, hoping to catch up to him before he came to another block that didn’t end in a dead-end intersection.
A short distance away I heard the jingle of a harness and saw a team approaching, coming right toward me. I stepped aside and waited, trying to decide whether to run back in the opposite direction or simply cross in front of the wagon. Just as I made up my mind, the driver turned his horse away from me and drove past me, leaving me in darkness.
“I’ve got her!” someone shouted.
“Let’s take her downtown,” suggested someone else.
I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, feeling my way along the walls of the houses, trying not to bump into anything. I knew it must be close to morning; the sky was brightening, and there was barely a breeze blowing. But when I finally reached Tom, the sun was still hidden by low clouds.
“Did you find her?” asked Tom.
“No. You were lucky.”
He glanced around, then led me back down the alley toward the street. “This is it.”
There were two wagons parked in front of the house. One was a large, open box truck; the other appeared to be a covered carriage. They were both painted black, with white lettering and logos. I couldn’t make out what company they represented.
One of the men from Laramie rode into town on a horse while the other walked his horse down the street. Both looked like cowboys, but the man on foot wore a long, wide-brimmed hat, and the rider had on a Stetson. Neither looked very happy as they passed us.
They were talking about me and obviously had something against Tom, but I didn’t care how they felt about him. I only cared that neither man was interested in me, which was good. Otherwise, they might have come after us instead of Tom.
While Tom went to find the man we’d met in Laramie, I waited in the shadows of a doorway to watch the horses. I thought of what had happened to Tom during the night. It was terrible, but I wasn’t surprised.
That’s how it had always been between us—one mistake leading to another. And now I was caught up in his mess and likely to pay the price. He could say what he wanted to, but it was all my fault. Why was I so stupid?
I should have known better than to trust any outlaw. I had learned firsthand that the men who held such titles usually did whatever their evil hearts desired. The only reason I hadn’t died in Laramie was that the stranger had shown some mercy and let me live—probably because I didn’t look like a real threat to him.
My gaze dropped to the ground, and I realized I still carried a piece of Tom’s shirt in my handbag. I took it out and placed it inside my skirt pocket. It was hard to believe this had ever belonged to Tom, yet it felt strangely comforting to hold it.
Maybe it was all that blood he had on him that had given me the idea to use it. Or perhaps I was still angry at him for letting me get involved in his problems in the first place.
Just then, Tom walked up with Jim, looking tired, dirty, and disheveled. “Did you find her?” he asked, sounding exhausted.
“She ran off when she heard us coming back down the alley,” explained Jim.
Tom swore under his breath. “You’ll never make an actress if you keep running away like that.”
Jim laughed nervously as he handed Tom my purse.
“I’ve got her,” said Tom, reaching into my bag and taking my hand. “Now, tell me why we’re here.”
Jim told us that the woman we sought worked for a traveling medicine show, which was currently in town and staying at the hotel. He told Tom about the girl who had seen us leave the saloon, and Jim added that his boss would probably know of any women working in his tent.
“What about the other people?” I asked.
“There are three or four men and one older couple, plus a young girl.”
“Why is the man wearing a dress?”
“I don’t think they have much choice in clothing,” answered Jim. “But they can’t stay here too long. Someone will report them missing.”
As Tom started walking down the sidewalk toward the hotel, I followed behind him and tried to ignore the stares I received. A few of the passersby stopped to ask if they could help and then hurried away once they saw Tom’s gun. As the man on horseback came into view, I stepped into the shade of a porch and watched him approach with a smile.
The stranger greeted Tom with a friendly nod. “How are you doing today?”
“Fine,” replied Tom.
The man on horseback was tall, thin, and had a full head of gray hair. He wore a brown leather vest over a white shirt; his trousers were brown as well, but his boots were black.
“Well, now, there’s no need to be so formal, Tom.”
Tom smiled back. “Jim.”
“Good to see you. How’s business?”
“We’re making money.”
“You’re doing okay then. But I’m afraid business has gotten worse.”
“So?”
“It’s nothing personal. We have plenty of work to do, but we don’t have enough hands to fill it.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not your concern.”
“Maybe not, but we have bills to pay too, and I can’t always count on you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. I’ve been in your debt before.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, and I hope you won’t expect me to do it again.”
“If you mean it, fine.”
“Then come by our tent tomorrow morning. We’ll have a job for you if you can get yourself cleaned up. We could use a good handyman around here.”
A job! Now, this could change everything. Tom was going to have to leave the saloon and start working for this man instead. I looked forward to seeing him at night, dressed in respectable clothes, and I hoped I wouldn’t be forced to spend the rest of my days alone.
There had to be some way out of this situation. If we left here immediately, maybe Jim would take us right back to Laramie and give us a ride. But that meant we’d miss all of Tom’s work and the chance to earn a living from now on. Then there was my problem to deal with. How did I go about telling Tom how badly I wanted to stay with him?
“Are you hungry?” Jim asked Tom. “I know I am. Why don’t we stop by the cafe and grab a bite to eat first?”
Tom didn’t answer until Jim had already moved away. “Tell him no,” he called after Jim. “Tell him no!”
Jim glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re the boss, not me.”
With that, Jim rode away. I followed Tom as he headed into the hotel, wondering what he planned on doing. Maybe, just maybe, we could leave here without having to steal anything else. We were both free agents now. It might be better to leave quietly than cause a fuss, though. No one would suspect us of being murderers anymore—not unless they knew who we really were.
After checking with the desk clerk to verify that there weren’t any rooms available, Tom led me across the lobby and through a doorway that was barely wider than a hallway. We stopped in front of a large wooden door with a brass handle that was locked with a chain.
“Is this your place?” I asked. “This looks like a barn.”
“No, it’s mine,” he admitted. “But the room inside is bigger than the space you’ll find at any hotel around here.”
“You mean you live here?”
“Yes, and it’s safer for me to do so. My enemies could try to kill me if they knew where I lived.”
“Your enemies?”
“The man I shot.”
I felt my face grow hot as I stared at the floor.
“Do you mind if I lock the door?” asked Tom. “We should be safe in here for the next few hours.”
While Tom secured the lock, I walked over to a small table near the window and picked up a pen. After looking around, I sat down on the edge of a chair and began writing. When Tom joined me, I handed him the note. “Take it back to Jim.”
“He already knows about the job,” said Tom.
“Oh, yes, Jim told me he hired you yesterday.” I folded the note in half and placed it inside my purse. “What happened to the man I killed? Did someone else end up taking his place?”
“I don’t think anyone has been assigned to replace him yet. You’re lucky he wasn’t replaced, or you would be dead, too.”
“Did you kill him, Jim?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why did you want me to kill him?”
“Because he tried to run out on the bill when the shooting started.”
“Were you trying to rob the saloon?” I couldn’t imagine why a gunfighter would care whether or not he was paid.
“I needed him gone.”
“And me?”
“There are two men in this town who don’t belong here. One is me. The other—” He hesitated. “We’re not supposed to talk about him.”
“I can’t imagine why not,” I muttered, getting angry. “You can tell me anything you want—you and Jim can even kill me if you wish. So long as you keep your secrets to yourselves.”
When Tom remained silent, I finally understood. They were probably protecting Jim because he thought my death would cause Tom grief. That made me wonder if Tom really knew anything about my life before Laramie. I suspected not, but still… “Why don’t you come out here with me tonight?” I asked. “I could use another pair of eyes to help me see through the shadows.”
He shook his head. “I’ve already agreed to work for Jim. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”
I sighed heavily. What was wrong with these people? Was it such a crime to have someone watch your back?
“If you feel so uncomfortable with this whole situation,” I said slowly, “then why don’t you just quit?”
“Quit?” His voice grew cold. “How would you like to do that, miss? Quit the only profession I know how to do.”
I stared at him for several moments. “Fine,” I said in disgust. “Let’s go upstairs then. Maybe Jim will change his mind when he sees how strong-willed I am.”
The End