“What?” Calhoun said, turning toward the sound.
Hiding a knife in his hand, low and by his side, Ward made an underhand jab toward Calhoun, holding the blade sideways so it would slip in easily between his ribs. The knife penetrated Calhoun’s heart, and he went down without another sound.
Ward found the money in Calhoun’s coat pocket, then quickly crossed the street and entered the Ace High Saloon, where he stayed just long enough to establish an alibi. After a couple drinks and a little flirtatious banter with the bar girls, he walked down to the Rocky Mountain Hotel, where he took a room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They had selected the time of their duty by lot, and had decided whoever was on duty would stand, not sit, at the door, looking out through the door window. That way nobody would fall asleep while on watch, and since they were only doing one hour at a time, it didn’t seem too harsh a duty.
Luke had the watch from one until two in the morning, but couldn’t help taking frequent glances toward Jenny. Often, he caught her looking at him. For the first few times he caught her, she would smile in embarrassment at being caught. But after a few times, the embarrassment was gone, and they looked at each other openly and unashamedly.
He recalled a conversation he’d had with his sea captain.
Because of that conversation, and because he believed the captain was right, the thought of marriage had never before crossed Luke’s mind.
But he wasn’t a seaman any longer. He was a rancher with land and a house. What better could he offer a wife, than her own home? Working the land, there would be no long separations. He could get married. They could have children . . . a boy would be nice. He could start him in ranching when he was . . .
Shaking his head, Luke abruptly turned his thoughts in a different direction. He was going to jail for four years. There were very few voyages where a seaman would be absent for four long years. If he couldn’t subject a woman to being married to a seaman, what made him think he could subject her to being married to someone who was in jail?
He clenched his jaw and turned away from Jenny. Thinking was getting him nowhere.
Jenny watched Luke turn away from her.
Life had been a good teacher to Jenny, and she had learned well. She had developed an intuition that she trusted, and it was telling her Luke’s feelings for her were genuine. She concluded the answer to those questions was no.
But what about her feelings for him? She had made a mistake once, succumbing to foolish infatuation. Was she experiencing the same thing? They had known each other for only three days. Love couldn’t develop in three days . . . could it?
She knew Luke was going to jail, the result of an unjust verdict. She was certain his impending jail time was weighing heavily on his mind . . . so heavily it would undoubtedly cause him to put aside any feelings he might have for her.
Giving thought to the comment he had made about the Samoans, and how there is no difference in the heart of a flower that lives but a single day and the heart of a tree that lives for a thousand years, she decided that was exactly how she would look at their current situation. If but a few days, or even a few hours remained for them she would fill what was left with love for Luke Shardeen.
The morning dawned bright and sunny, heating the car inside. But there was little chance another opportunity for food would present itself as the coyote had done.
Abner Purvis went back to talk to Matt. “Me, Jones, Turner, and Simpson have come up with a plan.”
“What is your plan?”
“We’re goin’ to walk out of here.”
“Which way are you going?” Matt asked. “The snow in front is three hundred feet high.”
“That’s why we are going to go back to Buena Vista. If we can get through, we’ll get a rescue train back up here.”
“Mr. Purvis, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind but that there has already been a rescue attempt. If they could have gotten through, they would be here by now. That tells me that the way behind us is as blocked as the way before us.”
“That may be, but we been talkin’ about it, and we don’t plan to stay here ’n starve to death. Besides which we had a little somethin’ to eat yesterday, so we ain’t goin’ to be any stronger than we are right now.”
“You might have a point there,” Matt agreed. “But you aren’t going to get anywhere without snow shoes.”
“We can try,” Purvis said.
“When do you plan to leave?”
“The sooner the better. If we leave now we might be over the worst part of it while there is still light.”
It took Purvis and the other three men about five minutes to get ready, then everyone in the car wished them luck. With hopeful hearts they watched through the back window as the men attempted to go over the wall of snow piled up behind the train.
Their attempts to climb the snow met with utter failure. They got a few feet up the side, only to slide back down again, or the very act of climbing itself pulled down large slides of snow. They kept at it for half an hour without the slightest bit of success. Finally, breathing hard and tired of bringing frigid air into their lungs, they had no recourse but to give up and return to the train.
“I’m sorry,” Purvis said as he and the other three men huddled around the stove. They were so cold and exhausted Matt had thrown in a few extra lumps of coal for more heat. He feared they might contract pneumonia.
“We tried, but we couldn’t get over the snow,” Jones explained, then sipped from the cup Matt was passing between the men. He had heated snow in the same chamber pot used to make the soup the day before, and though it was nothing but warm water, it made them feel better to drink it.
“What do we do now?” Bailey asked.
“We’ll just have to wait and see what develops.” Matt looked over toward Millie and Becky. “How is she doing this morning?”
“Not well,” Millie said, choking back a sob. “Not well at all. She’s not even conscious anymore. I’m—I’m afraid she might be dying.”
Matt took some warm water over to them, making certain the water wasn’t too hot. “Bathe her face in this,” he offered. “It won’t help with the illness, but if she can feel it, it might make her feel a little better.
“Bless you.” Millie tore some of the hem off her skirt and using it as a washcloth, bathed Becky’s face gently with the warm water.
