That conversation had taken place two years ago, and Adele had been a regular parishioner ever since.
She walked down to the chancel, genuflected before the cross, then knelt at the rail, crossed herself again, and prayed aloud. “Please, Lord, be with Jenny and all the other poor people trapped on that train. And let her find it in her heart to forgive the town, and return.”
She crossed herself again, stood and genuflected one more time, then left the church. She walked back to the depot, on the chance that Jenny might answer the telegram.
When the telegraph began to clatter again, Bailey hurried over to it to write down the message. “Mrs. McCoy. This message is for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who would be sending me a message?”
“It’s signed by the person who sent it,” Bailey said.
Jenny read the message, then felt tears welling up in her eyes.”
“Jenny!” Luke said. He hurried to her. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No. Something is right.” She smiled through her tears and showed the message to Luke. “It’s from Adele, and it looks like we might be able to have that dinner together after all.”
Luke read the message, then embraced Jenny.
“Mr. Bailey, can I send a message back to Adele?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bailey said. “What do you want to send?”
“I want to say, Thank you, Adele, so much for this welcome news. I am sure you had a lot to do with it, and I’m very grateful. And sign it Jenny.”
Bailey translated the message into telegraph speak and sent it on its way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Smoke and Duff took turns pulling the sled. Unlike the first part of the journey where pulling the sled had been laborious, it trailed behind Smoke as easily as if it weren’t loaded. They followed the wide, flat path set out in front of them, amazed at how much easier it was to climb and how clearly it could be seen. The snow shimmered so brightly it looked as if it were being illuminated by lanterns.
Duff had never seen anything quite like it and he stared at it in curiosity. “’Tis a miracle of sorts, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, here it is, so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, and yet the path before us is glowing in the moonlight, almost as if it had lights of its own.”
“Yes. You could say it is a miracle.” Smoke looked at the old mountain man who was leading them. He was about twenty feet ahead of them, moving as easily if he were walking across a parlor floor. As before, there was an aura around him, an enveloping silver glow that looked, not as if it were shining on him, but as if it were coming from him. That same light spread out along the path they were following.
Smoke knew, of course, it wasn’t possible the light was coming from the old man. A full moon could be really bright, especially when reflected by the snow. No doubt what he was seeing was, as Duff had said, a reflection of the moonlight.
Smoke had climbed, hunted, and trapped on this mountain, many, many times in the past. He knew every inch of it as well as he knew his own backyard. But he had never seen a path like that, and had no idea how it had gotten there. He wasn’t one to turn his back on opportunity, though, so he kept putting one foot in front of the other, following the path that was making their climb incredibly easy.
“How much farther do you think it is to top of the pass?” Duff asked.
“Do you smell that?” Smoke called back to Duff.
Duff took a deep sniff, then smiled. “Yes. I do smell it. It’s smoke.”
“And not just any smoke. It’s coal smoke. That means we are very close now. I would say we are within a mile, maybe even closer.”
“I don’t know how you found this trail,” Duff said. “But it has certainly made our effort much easier.”
“I didn’t find it. Preacher did.”
“You have mentioned Preacher before. Tell me about him.”
“Preacher is as fine a man as I’ve ever known. One of the original settlers of Colorado, he came out here to live in the mountains when there weren’t more than two or three hundred white men within a thousand miles. He trapped beaver, lived off the game he took—bear, deer, elk, mountain goat.”
“Why do call him Preacher? Was he an ordained minister? A man of God?”
“He wasn’t an ordained minister, but he was, and I have to say is, definitely a man of God.”
“Aye, ’tis a pleasure when one can find such a man, and a treasure when you can call him your friend. You are truly blessed, Smoke.”
“Yes, I am.” Smoke looked back to the path in front of him, but the old mountain man was gone. “Where did he go?”
“Who, Preacher? What do you mean where did he go? I thought you said he had died.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s true. Preacher is no longer with us.”
They continued their trek up, following the path to the top of the mountain.
“What now? We’re at the top of the mountain, and there’s no train,” Duff said.
Smoke realized then that the path had taken them all the way to the summit of the mountain, to the very top of the cut, above the pass. Approaching the edge very carefully, he looked down and saw the train, or rather, what could be seen of the train, well below them. It was sticking out from a high wall of snow, almost like an arrow protruding from a target. Lights could be seen in the windows of the last car and the coal smoke they had smelled earlier was drifting up from the chimney.
“Come over here, but be careful,” Smoke said. “This is the top of the cut and there’s a sheer drop here.”
Duff approached, and Smoke pointed. “There’s the train.”
“Aye. ’Tis easy to see why they are trapped. There’s a mountain of snow in front of them.”
“And behind them as well. It looks to me like this train could be stuck here for a month.”
“How are we ever going to get them out?” Duff asked.
“Let’s feed them first, then we’ll worry about getting them out,” Smoke proposed.
“My word,” Duff marveled.
“What is it?”
“Look at the moon. I thought it must be full, but it’s only in its last quarter. Now, would you be for tellin’ me, how a moon like that could produce enough light to make our path glow as it did?”
“I don’t know,” Smoke admitted. “Maybe it was the way the snow was spread out, just right to reflect what
