Sweet Dream Inn
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“That’s it, sir. The last one,” the stable boy said and walked away. He was a young man with freckles on his face that reminded her of Tom Sawyer. She wondered if he had been reading Twain to the children before she arrived in town or how long she’d known about the inn. It was possible some of these little boys knew more than they let on.
A horse whinnied as someone rode by. She looked around and saw a rider coming toward her down the street. He wore a blue coat with black boots, but she didn’t recognize him until he got closer. He wore a hat that covered most of his face except for his eyes and mouth.
As she watched, he pulled off his cap so he could better see where he was going. His hair was brown, almost black like his eyes. She recognized his walk. “Tom!”
The horse continued to trot along the road while Tom dismounted and tied up the animal. When he approached her, he stopped and stared at her. She stood there in silence waiting for him to say something. Finally, he asked, “Did you need help?”
“No.” She started walking back to the inn and turned around when Tom reached out and grabbed her arm. For a moment, she felt the same shock she had experienced when he first rescued her from being kidnapped and sold into slavery.
Then she remembered what happened afterward: her abduction, rape, kidnapping again, escape to this small town, and now, finally, freedom. “Thank you, Tom.”
She nodded and started walking faster. Tom fell behind and caught up with her when he realized she wasn’t going to say anything else. They walked side by side down the street as Tom pointed out buildings and people who might be able to help her find what she sought. He talked about the town, the church, the school, and the bank.
“What’s happening here?” She glanced at him and then quickly away. “Why is everyone looking at us? Why are the children staring at me?”
“They’re curious, that’s all.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
As they passed an older woman carrying two buckets of water to a nearby house, he slowed down so he could speak directly to her. “Mrs. Bledsoe, do you know where I can find some work today?”
The woman looked at him closely and then smiled. “I’m not sure. You should ask Mrs. Lottie. She runs the boarding house in front of you.”
He thanked the woman for the information and continued down the street. After he left, the children ran off after him. The woman watched them run past, and then she went inside her home.
She followed Tom to the boarding house and entered through the back door. A short, plump woman greeted her and led her to the kitchen.
“We’ve heard about your rescue, Miss. Thank God you’re safe. We’ll put our best efforts into helping you find a place to stay in town.”
She shook her head and said, “I don’t need anything. Just tell me where to look.”
The woman seemed disappointed but didn’t argue further. She left the room and returned with another woman.
“This is Miss Lottie. She runs the boarding house next to yours.”
Miss Lottie introduced herself and offered to show her around. “Come on. I’ll take you to my room. I hope you don’t mind sharing with a few other guests, but we’re booked solid this time of year.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Katie replied.
She showed her to the second floor and pointed out two doors to either side of her room. “There’s three of us in the end room, but it’s empty at the moment because Mr. Lottie is visiting family in Virginia City.”
Katie thanked Miss Lottie and went back downstairs. She walked into the kitchen to talk with the cook.
“You must be hungry since you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” The cook handed her a plate of sliced bread, ham, cheese, and tomatoes. “Help yourself.”
Katie ate the food and washed it down with a glass of milk. She thought of the children who were probably starving. It would have been easier to eat if she had some of their hunger to compare it to. She was still full when the cook came over with a large pitcher and filled her glass. Katie took a sip and noticed a strange odor. Her throat burned, and she threw back her head and coughed.
“Is something wrong?” The cook looked concerned.
“My throat hurts and my stomach is upset.”
“Oh no! Let’s get you upstairs to lie down.” The cook helped her out of the chair and guided her to the stairs.
When Katie reached the top landing, she paused. “Wait a minute. I think I just found something very important.” She turned and ran back to the room. As she opened the door, her heart beat faster.
Inside was a box, much like the one her kidnapper had used to carry her off. The only difference was that it was covered with dust and cobwebs. She brushed away the debris and lifted the lid. Inside the box were several pieces of paper wrapped in a handkerchief, all neatly folded.
“What could this mean?” She untied the knot and removed the papers. Most of them contained letters, but some of them appeared to be receipts from a store in Virginia City, Nevada. She placed the documents aside and pulled out a newspaper article.
It was dated April 15, 1858—the day after her escape. A picture of John Taylor on the front page captured his likeness perfectly. She read aloud to herself. “John Taylor has been charged with murdering four men in the Washoe Valley.”
“Wasn’t that a story I told you?” Tom asked when he joined her.
“I never imagined it was real.” She picked up a letter and read: “Dear Miss, please forgive me for leaving you so abruptly. I am now living in Virginia City, Nevada.”
“Were you killed four men to hide your crimes,” she added.
Tom grabbed the letter and threw it across the room. “You’re lucky you’re alive!”
She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
His eyes narrowed with anger. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Let’s get out of here.”
As they left the building, she realized she didn’t want to leave Nevada. But even as she thought it, she knew she couldn’t stay with Tom. They had to separate. She needed to find the people responsible for her kidnapping. That meant traveling alone. And it might be a good idea to leave Montana altogether; she didn’t want to risk being caught by the Pinkerton agency.
She stopped and faced Tom. “I should go, but I don’t know how far I can get without help. Can you give me a lift to Fort Benton? I could walk from there.”
“Not if that’s the direction you’re headed.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s exactly where the Pinkertons are headed.”
***
Fort Benton was an old fort built near the Missouri River and manned by soldiers during the Indian wars of the mid-1800s. Now it was nothing more than a small town surrounded by a stockade.
Katie rode in silence with Tom until they arrived at the edge of town. She got down from the wagon and stretched her sore legs. “Thank you for the ride.”
Tom climbed down with the reins in his hand. “No need for thanks.”
Katie glanced around and saw no one in sight. She approached the gate and knocked on the wooden barrier. After a few moments, a soldier opened the door and stared at her. He must have recognized her. “Are you looking for someone in particular?”
“Yes. Is Missy O’Brien still in town?”
He nodded. “She lives over in those buildings.”
“Do you know if she has any brothers or sisters?”
The man shrugged. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t recognize her if I met her.”
Katie thanked him and walked inside the stockade. The first thing she noticed was that the town was deserted. Only a few men sat around outside, playing checkers. No one seemed surprised by her visit, and many of them waved at her.
“Excuse me, are there any O’Brien women living here?” Katie asked a soldier who passed. When he shook his head, she continued through the streets. All along Main Street stood empty houses, abandoned by their owners before the war.
Ahead of her was a two-story house with a white fence surrounding its property. A sign hung above the door reading, “Missy O’Brien: Housekeeper & Companion.” The front yard was filled with flowers and a garden, and several rocking chairs were set up next to the porch.
“Hello! Can anyone tell me who owns this place?”
“It belongs to Missy O’Brien.” A young woman stepped out to greet her. She wore a black dress and a large bonnet with lace covering her brown hair.
Katie smiled at the pretty young woman. “I’d like to speak to Missy O’Brien.”
“I’m sure we can arrange something.” The servant escorted Katie into the house. “We have tea ready. Will you join us?”
Katie hesitated to accept, knowing that Tom would expect her back at the ranch. But she didn’t want to disappoint the young woman, either. So she accepted the invitation.
After the maid poured tea, she led Katie to the parlor. A few women, all dressed in long dresses, sat on a sofa and on an armchair. Some were reading while others talked quietly among themselves.
All of them turned toward Katie when she entered. Her presence startled some of the older women. The younger ones stared at her with interest, but none of them spoke.
The maid introduced Katie to the other women. One, named Lizzie O’Connor, was only twenty-five and seemed eager to talk to her.
Lizzie’s friend, Mary, was thirty, a widow, and lived in a nearby house with her children. The third woman, a redheaded spinster, was fifty-two years old and worked as a schoolteacher in the town.
Mary introduced herself last. “My husband and I were married for sixteen happy years.”
“And my brother-in-law,” Lizzie added. “He’s an engineer with the Union Pacific Railroad.”
“That’s wonderful,” Katie said to both ladies. Then she looked at Lizzie. “So you’re engaged?”
“I’ve been thinking about marriage for a while now. We were planning to marry next year after I graduate from high school.”
“What kind of man is he?”
“An Irishman with dark curly hair and sparkling green eyes.” Lizzie smiled at the memory. “But he isn’t here anymore.”
Katie knew what that meant. Lizzie’s fiancé had died in the war. “How sad.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it,” Lizzie sighed. “I miss him so much.”
The other women nodded in sympathy. They all shared stories of loved ones killed in battle. It was hard to believe that a war could claim so many lives, but these women had firsthand knowledge.
Katie listened in silence to each story and thought about the Pinkertons following her trail. Was one of them already in Fort Benton? How long would she be able to hide from them? And what would they do if they found her here?
“Is your mother well?” Lizzie asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. She lives with the Pinkerton Agency.”
“Then why are you working for Mr. Pinkerton?”
“I’m doing it because I love it.” Katie couldn’t help thinking about the war and how Tom had been wounded. “I think everyone should work as long as they enjoy it.”
“Why do you suppose we can never find satisfaction in anything?” Lizzie frowned, her eyes filling with tears. “There must be more to life than this.”
“I’m sure there is.” Katie reached across the table and touched Lizzie’s hand. “But it takes time to discover it. You just need to keep looking.”
The women exchanged glances, but no one offered an opinion. With a sigh, Katie realized she wasn’t going to change their minds.
They talked until late in the afternoon, discussing everything from gardening to fashion and even politics. Afterward, Katie left the house feeling better about being in Fort Benton. At least she hadn’t been alone with her thoughts and fears. These women had given her the support and friendship she needed.
***
She returned to the boardinghouse around four o’clock to find Tom waiting in the parlor. He’d changed his clothes since lunch and now wore tan trousers and a shirt with a collar. But he still looked disheveled and tired, and he held a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“You’re back early.” He set down the whiskey. “Did you meet anyone interesting?”
“Everyone here seems nice,” she said honestly. “But I haven’t met many people outside of town.”
“That’s good.”
Tom’s tone sounded flat, which worried Katie, but she didn’t want to argue with him. “Where did you send those Pinkertons?”
“To the saloon where I saw them last night. But they weren’t there today.” He shook his head in frustration. “This is going to take forever.”
“How long have you known them?”
“Since I started working at the agency.”
“Are you sure you don’t recognize any of them?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you remember where the first one came from?”
“I know he was born near Chicago, Illinois.”
“How old is he?”
“Forty-eight.”
“Was it his first tour with the Pinkerton Agency or has he been working for us before?”
“It was his first tour with the Pinkertons.”
“And the other man?”
“A little older, I guess. Thirty-eight or thirty-nine.”
“Could you tell how long they’ve been at the agency?”
“Not exactly, but they’re definitely experienced.”
“Has either one of them been sent to Montana?”
“Montana?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. We might attract attention to ourselves.”
“If we stay away from Montana, they won’t suspect we’re in the area. The only reason they’d think otherwise would be because of our descriptions.”
“You think they’re looking for me?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
He studied her face and then shrugged. “We’ll see what happens. If they find us, I’ll try to handle them myself.”
Katie tried to sound reassuring. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
“Good.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. She’d learned a lot about Tom in the past few days and was beginning to understand what drove him to work for the Pinkertons.
When he spoke again, his voice was low. “How did you like being in the big house?”
“Fine.” She smiled, remembering the conversation she’d overheard between Mr. and Mrs. Smith. “It was nice to have company while I worked on the piano.”
“What about the other two pianos? Did you hear anything interesting?”
“No, it was pretty quiet in there.”
“Well, let’s hope it stays that way.” His gaze narrowed. “Have you heard from anyone else?”
“No.” She hesitated, wondering if she should tell him about the telegram and letter. “Only this.”
Her hand went to her pocket and she pulled out the note she’d received this morning. She handed it over to him without saying a word.
His eyebrows rose when he read it. Then his expression became grim and his jaw tightened as he turned toward the window. He stared into the distance, his back to her.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said quietly, hating herself for bringing up a painful subject.
“It’s nothing.”
“I wish I could help. Do you want me to leave town?”
He shook his head. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
With a sigh, Katie stood from her chair and walked over to his side of the room. “I’m not trying to make things worse for you or the agency. I just wanted you to know I felt terrible about what happened.”
“I can imagine how you feel.”
“I do. It makes me angry that someone would take advantage of you.”
“The Pinkertons protect honest citizens against criminals.” He leaned against the window frame, staring out at the street below. “There are good men in the agency who are devoted to their jobs. I’ve seen it happen time after time.”
“I understand. I guess you wouldn’t care so much if it were happening to you.”
He glanced at her, his features shadowed. “Why are you here?”
She knew exactly why she was there—to prove that the Pinkertons were guilty of murder. But she hadn’t expected to meet so many others who had suffered at the hands of the agency’s agents. “Because I want justice. And I thought maybe if I could learn more about them, then maybe we’d be able to put them behind bars.”
He shook his head and looked away from her. “Justice is something I’m not sure will ever come to pass.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, if these men are really murderers, then I expect you’ll get your just rewards.”
“You think that’s funny, don’t you?” He swung around to face her. “Don’t mock me.”
“No,” she replied in a low voice. “I never joke about that kind of thing.”
“Then what do you mean?” His eyes seemed to bore into her.
“Nothing.” Her pulse quickened, but she refused to look away from his hard, dark stare.
He took a step closer to her. “Tell me.”
“No.”
He reached out and gripped her wrist, pulling it close to his chest. His breath came out in short bursts and he released her.
She didn’t move a muscle. “What are you doing?”
“I told you before, I’m not afraid to hurt you.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll fight you every step of the way. Don’t try to stop me.”
“What are you going to do?” His nostrils flared as he drew closer still.
“Fight you.” She met his gaze with determination. “But I won’t go easy on you.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve been forced to break the law?”
“I don’t give a damn about the rules.”
His lips tightened. “This has nothing to do with breaking any laws.”
“Of course it does. We’re talking about a crime against humanity here.”
His gaze narrowed, and she saw the first flicker of doubt in his eyes. But only for a moment. “I think you’d better leave now.”
“If I walk out that door right now, will it make you happy?”
“It might.”
“In which case, I’ll stay until the day they hang you.”
A long pause hung heavily in the air as he stared at her. “You know, I can see why people call you a troublemaker.”
“I’m used to that.”
He exhaled and nodded slightly as if he’d reached some decision. Then he turned away from her and faced the window once again. “Very well,” he said. “Leave.”
Katie watched him, feeling as if her heart had frozen. Was he going to let her go?
She didn’t wait for an answer; instead, she strode from the room and ran down the hall. She paused outside the bedroom and peered inside. The bed was empty.
He wasn’t in the bathroom either.
Shaking with fear, she stepped through the doorway. There he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. She crossed to the side of his bed and sat beside him. Her hand went to his arm, and she pulled it over to her. “I’m sorry, Ben. For everything.”
His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hollow. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He closed his eyes. “I lost my job today.”
The End