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  “Lets go girls!” Jeremiah called from the door. “The day is beautiful. Cold but beautiful!” Stockings, a gentle sorrel mare, waited patiently for Mother. Jeremiah rode his big, grey gelding, Sailor, and Missy neighed her welcome home to me as I buried my face in her warm neck.

  This was the first time Mother had ever ridden astride a horse, but she caught on quickly as we visited all my favorite places on the ranch. The horses whinnied their greeting as we rode by Crackerjack before heading to the high meadow pastures dotted with cattle.

  By midmorning, we had seen many of my favorite places, but I really wanted Mother to see Turkey Creek Falls. When we arrived, we stopped and ate the picnic lunch that Jeremiah had packed.

  “Either you have the most amazing food in this country, or mountain air does something to my appetite,” Mother said as she eyed another biscuit piled high with smoked ham.

  Jeremiah noticing her appetite unwrapped another sandwich for Mother. “Alice, don’t stop now,” he encouraged. “Maria gets mad if we bring anything back. She takes it as an insult if everyone isn’t as round and plump as she is.”

  We watched a porcupine waddle across the forest floor and climb into the safety of the bows of a pine tree. After eating, Mother Burgess followed Jeremiah down to the creek to rinse out the lunch dishes. Stockings and Sailor were tethered beside the creek, and I walked with Missy along the stream as she munched a few strands of grass greening up in the pale spring sunlight.

  My ears picked up a deep woofing sound, and Missy jumped, pulling away from the stream. As Missy snorted, I asked, “What is it, girl?” Through the years, I had learned to trust my horse’s heightened senses and knew she was warning me of danger close by. Willows beside the streambed moved erratically, and the woofing sound coming from within them abruptly changed into the urgent bawling of a baby bear. Instantly I swung onto Missy and let her out her reigns so she could take us away from danger. We both knew that a bawling baby bear meant an angry mother was close by.

  Jeremiah and Mother emerged just above the trapped baby. “Mother! Jeremiah!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Get out of there! You’re between mother bear and her baby!” The old sow bear suddenly appeared. Standing on her hind legs, she howled in anger at the perceived threat to her baby and then charged.

  Seeing the now charging bear, Mother screamed. Jeremiah, moving like a mountain lion, jumped onto Sailor and pulled Mother up behind him.

  “Jeremiah, watch out for Stockings!” I yelled. Seeing the other horses, Stockings pulled up behind Sailor just as the mother bear rushed the willows. Stockings gathered her haunches under her and launched forward, but not before the angry bear’s paw had swiped her flank.

  Grabbing the Winchester from my saddlebag, I quickly got the mother bear into my rifle’s sights. “I don’t want to shoot you, momma bear. Go get your baby and leave us alone,” I whispered as the cold metal of the trigger resisted my finger.

  Thankfully, the mother bear turned her attention to where the crying baby had now freed himself from the willows. Keeping my rifle trained on her, I watched as she herded her baby toward the shelter of the deep forest.

  Jeremiah, Mother, and Sailor soon caught up with Stockings. Jeremiah grabbed her reigns, and she trotted to as stop where Missy and I stood waiting, in the security of the meadow. After sliding out of his saddle, he helped Mother to the ground, before he examined the wound on Stocking’s flank.

  “She’s got a pretty good gash on her hindquarter,” Jeremiah said as we examined the wound. “But the bleeding has already stopped, and it isn’t very deep. Some hot soapy water and a good coating of salve will fix her right up.” I breathed a sigh of relief as I patted Stockings and turned toward a wide-eyed Mother Burgess as she stood, in shock, beside Sailor.

  Jeremiah quietly approached Mother. “Alice, are you OK?” he asked as he offered her his hand.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I am a bit unnerved, but I have to say I really appreciate the mobility that these dungarees afford a woman!”

  Jeremiah laughed as he held Stockings reins and helped Mother get back in the saddle. “Madam, you have more nerve than most hired hands on the ranch. Are you sure you don’t need a job?”

  We all laughed, and Jeremiah brushed his chaps off with his hat and mounted Sailor. “Let’s get back to the ranch. I think we have seen enough of Colorado’s wildlife for one day.”

  ***

  Afternoon shadows lengthened as we pulled the saddles off of the horses and brushed them down. “It’s not too bad.” Jeremiah, said to Alice, as he applied salve to the horse’s wound. “We are very lucky that it was Stockings flank and not your leg.” Turning to Mother, he held out a welcoming handshake. “Mrs. Burgess—I mean Alice—welcome to Colorado. You are made of stout stuff, and I think you will do quite well here. Just remember to stay away from the bears.”

  Everyone was lighthearted as we made our way from the barn back to the ranch house. Maria was waiting impatiently and uttered something in Spanish that I am sure wasn’t meant for us to translate.

  Mexican food was Maria’s specialty, and she had everything perfect for the evening’s supper. Beef and chicken, marinated in special seasonings, lay hot and juicy on fresh corn and flour tortillas. Maria’s famous red and green chili sat in pots, while beans and rice simmered on the stove.

  Mother fanned her forehead and tried to cool her tongue after tasting Maria’s jalapeno salsa. “I love these flavors. Ada, do you know how to make all this?”

  Maria stood in the kitchen, quietly watching and listening for my answer. “Maria taught me everything I know about cooking,” I said, “but no one can make Mexican food like Maria.” Maria smiled, and gave me a wink and nod of approval.

  As the sun fell behind the western peaks, casting purple and red streams across the charcoal-colored clouds, stars threw dazzling light at the indigo sky, and the night air cooled quickly. Mother drew a breath as she stood on the veranda wrapped in a woolen shawl and her flannel nightgown.

  “I can’t believe I don’t miss Vermont,” she whispered to herself as she closed the veranda doors and returned to her warm room. “Thank you, dear God. You have given me more than I ever deserved. Bless Patrick and Ada. Give them a new start in their lives together, and let me help and not hinder as their lives unfold. Your grace is sufficient. Amen.”

  Mother’s door was cracked and I started to knock, but stopped as I watched her climb under the bedcovers. Before I could make a sound I saw her momentarily startle, but quickly she relaxed in pure contentment as I heard her say, “Maria, you think of everything, don’t you?” Quietly, I closed Mothers door while fond memories of cold winter nights came back to me. I knew what Maria had done. She had put a flannel wrapped, hot water bottle between Mother’s sheets.

  Chapter 23

  The morning of the fifteenth had arrived. Maria’s coffee, buttermilk pancakes, and fried ham greeted us as we came downstairs for breakfast. The buckboard stood ready in the driveway.

  Lettie was in the dining room with her coffee as she and Jeremiah organized the plans for the day’s trip. “Jeremiah will take the luggage out to the wagon while you two eat. I’m glad you are taking the early train. I have hired two sheepherders, and they should already be at the train station loading your sheep. Jeremiah will make sure they understand that they are to travel to Fort Collins with you and herd the sheep back to your ranch this afternoon.”

  Ma stood behind my chair and asked, “Have you heard from Patrick? Will anyone be in Fort Collins when you get there?”

  “I haven’t heard from Patrick; he doesn’t have mail service where he is. Today is the day he is supposed to come back, but he still doesn’t know anything about all of this.” I gestured toward the waiting wagon. “Frank said he’d meet us in Fort Collins and bring his wagon to help the sheepherders, but there are still too many details that I can’t control. I just hope that this all works out. I know Patrick loved taking care of the sheep when he was young, but he is a c
attle rancher now, and I’m not sure what he will think about raising sheep. Some people in the Colorado Territory don’t like sheep, but I guess we have come this far. We can’t go back now,” I said as I hugged her. “Ma, Lettie, I can’t thank you enough. I’ll write soon.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality.” Mother embraced Aunt Lettie and Ma as we boarded the wagon. “I will take good care of your Ada. She is a pretty independent young lady, but I’ll be very happy to make sure she’s watched over in Fort Collins.”

  Ma and Aunt Lettie stood at the ranch house’s entryway and blew us kisses as Jeremiah pulled the wagon out of the ranch and onto the road toward Denver. Mother and I watched the beautiful foothills give way to the bustling city as Jeremiah pulled the team up to the stock pens at Union Station.

  Having finished loading the sheep, the sheepherders waited on the platform and had a cold breakfast. Jeremiah, Mother Burgess, and I supervised as stock-cars full of wooly white sheep were pulled into place and attached to the back of the northbound train.

  Jeremiah went and talked to the men, and there was an animated discussion. The sheepherders were adamant and flatly denied whatever Jeremiah was trying to offer. Coming over to us, Jeremiah explained, “I tried to get your hired men to sit in the first class compartment with you, but they refused. They both said they didn’t know how to behave around women and that they would be more comfortable with the miners and railroad men in the back cars.” Jeremiah tipped his hat to Mother and me as he continued, “I wish I could stay until Patrick arrives, but tonight is Friday night at the Dove, and I have been away from my duties too long.” Jeremiah kissed me and gave me one more bear hug before turning to Mother.

  She held out her dainty hand, which he deftly bypassed as he wrapped his strong arms around her tiny frame and embraced her. “You are family now,” he said as he set her back on the ground.

  Blushing, but obviously very pleased, she kissed his cheek as she said, “Thank you for everything. Now I owe you my life, so we need to stay in touch.”

  Jeremiah stood in front of me one more time before taking his leave. “What if Patrick’s train is late?” Jeremiah said as his worried eyes checked the train schedule.

  “I am sure everything is fine. The weather is beautiful, and Patrick’s train is due here any minute. We still have plenty of time before our train leaves,” I reassured him. “Go on now, you have a business to run.”

  Jeremiah waved his hat as he hurried back to the waiting buckboard and left the station. The train station was very busy and Mother and I amused ourselves watching people as they hurried around conducting their business. Patrick’s train had not arrived yet and looking at the clock we realized that it should of arrived. “All aboard for Longmont, Loveland, and Fort Collins, with final destination Cheyenne!” the conductor called.

  “Mother, what time is it? Have you seen any trains arriving from the west yet?” I stood on the platform and looked as far as I could down the east-west tracks. No sign of any incoming train was visible. I checked the clock above the ticket office. “Is that clock right? Patrick’s train should have been here by now,” I said as I looked nervously down the tracks again.

  Anxiously Mother Burgess and I waited, watching the passengers board our train. The incessant hands of the clock at the station continued to move forward; still there was no sign of a train arriving from the west.

  “Final call! All aboard for Longmont, Loveland, Fort Collins, and Cheyenne!” the conductors song rang out.

  “Where is he? Mother, go ahead and get on the train. I will be right there,” I said. I raced to the ticket office as the man in the booth began shutting down his office.

  “Is there a train later this afternoon?” I asked the train station manager as he locked the door to the ticket sales.

  “Yes, but it is all sold out,” he politely replied.

  “Do you know anything about the train that was due here two hours ago from California?” I asked him.

  “Sure. There was a rockslide in Glenwood Canyon, and nothing is getting through. We should have it cleared soon, but all the east-west trains are way behind schedule.”

  “Last call! All Aboard. The train is now departing,” called the conductor from my train. I waved to him and called, “I’m coming!” He motioned to me urgently as he released the steps from the platform.

  I took one last look at the empty ticket office as I ran to the train where the conductor waited impatiently. “I’m here!” I called. Quickly he seized my arm, and hoisted me up the steps into the dark passenger car closing the door soundly behind me.

  I stumbled into the passenger car and almost tripped over Mother Burgess as the train lurched forward.

  “Mother, what can I do? Patrick will think I am not coming to the station. He will think ... ” Choking on my emotions, I burst into tears and collapsed into mother’s arms.

  Chapter 24

  Patrick sat restlessly as he watched the men and equipment hoist boulders and shovel oozing mud away from the tracks. Spring rockslides were common in this canyon. The men went calmly about their routine, which only agitated Patrick further.

  Why does this have to happen now? Patrick thought as he frustratingly watched another boulder careen down the side of the canyon into the raging Colorado River below. What if she thinks I’m not coming? He fretted as he searched for the conductor.

  “It’s extremely important that I am in Denver this morning,” he determinedly explained to the poor man.

  “Don’t worry, son,” the man said as he hurried back to the engineering cabin. Your transfer is already confirmed for the northbound train in Denver to Fort Collins. You’ll miss the morning train, but we will be in Denver way before the afternoon train leaves.” The man’s last words were lost as he opened the door to the next car and stepped away from Patrick.

  There was nothing he could do except wait. After what felt like an unbearably long time, the engines belched out heavy black smoke, and the cars lurched forward, slowly moving over the tracks.

  “I sure hope no damage was done to the tracks,” one man said as he looked over the steep cliff to the waters below. “I’m really not in the mood for a dip in the Colorado River today,” he joked as the creaking and the swaying of the car made some of the women gasp and hold their husbands’ arms tightly.

  Patrick’s train finally pulled into Union Station three hours late. Grabbing his duffle bag, he leapt from the train before the conductor had positioned the stairs and raced to the station office.

  The ticket counter was closed and locked. He scanned the platform and noticed a few straggling passengers waiting for various trains, but no Ada.

  Maybe she doesn’t know what time my train was supposed to come in, Patrick reasoned, but his expectations were dashed when he looked at the neatly lettered sign in the ticket office announcing the projected arrival time of his train.

  She didn’t come. Ada would have seen the sign and known my train was late. She must not be able to forgive me, and now there’s nothing left. Patrick’s eyes searched each face, hoping against hope that she would step out of the quiet blur of passengers and run to his arms.

  Patrick wandered the platform until the conductor for the afternoon train loudly yelled, “Final call! This train is now departing to Loveland, Longmont, Fort Collins, and final destination Cheyenne!”

  Patrick gave one last lonely look over the platform as he swung his duffel into the passenger compartment. The conductor lifted the stairs and shut the door as Patrick dejectedly slumped into his seat.

  I had it coming, he thought. He gazed out of the window and sighed. The empty seat next to him was a testimony that he was leaving Denver without his wife.

  I guess I can’t I blame her, but I wish she could have forgiven me, he thought to himself as he watched Denver slip away. Patrick realized that it was all gone now. He couldn’t imagine living at that ranch without her. He needed to move on, but where would he go from here? Patrick contemplated going back to work
the railroad again. He rubbed his aching back and swollen knees. It was dangerous, hard work though, and he didn’t know if he could continue to do that kind of labor much longer.

  As he watched the rolling prairie stretch out before him, he was reminded of the hills of Vermont.

  I wonder how my parents are? My mother might need help with the house, and even if Dad is too obstinate to admit it he probably won’t turn down free labor this time of year.

  The train’s rhythms hypnotized Patrick into a peaceful trance, carrying him back to happier times during his childhood. As he closed his eyes he thought he saw his mother’s face beckoning him home.

  “It must be an omen,” he whispered as the rocking train lulled him to sleep.

  Chapter 25

  Mother and I arrived in Fort Collins. We both looked out of the window and smiled at the little station bustling with activity. My memories of the last time I was here were painful, and I struggled to suppress them as I stepped out of the train and into the bright sunshine.

  Frank stood waving madly, jumping up and down with excitement as he dashed up the steps to the platform. Elatedly, he helped us navigate the train’s stairs to the safety of the platform. “Mother, this is Frank Teller,” I said. Frank politely shook mother’s hand before peering into the dark passenger car.

  “Where’s Patrick?” he asked.

  “His train was delayed,” I sighed as I tried to hide my disappointment.

  “When will he be in?” Frank persisted.

  “We need to check with the stationmaster,” I said as we headed to the office. “There was a rock slide in Glenwood, and all of the east-west trains were delayed.”