Love Blooms in Winter (20 page)

Getting ready to leave the center of town, Tom spotted Jake standing on the sidelines, watching the parade of activity, and he had no idea if the man had come to work or just to keep an eye on the situation. He tossed the lawyer a friendly invitation. “Might as well join us, Mallory. Pay’s good.” When Jake’s only response was a nod, Tom turned to follow the workers.

What does
Mae
see in the man?

When Tom noticed some dogs cheerfully moving toward the accident site, tails wagging, he mentally groaned. He broke away from the rest of the men and cut through an empty lot to bypass the animals. Halfway down the snow-covered path, he sensed eyes on his back. He paused and turned to look. Nothing but snow met his gaze. Proceeding on, he watched his left side, and sure enough he spotted a small shadow trailing his. He turned quick enough this time to see the shadow disappear into the brush.

Scanning the thick growth, Tom didn’t detect anything stirring except for a crow cawing in an overhead tree branch.

He walked on. The shadow reappeared, and now he heard footsteps in the snow behind him, but this time he refused to stop. Whistling, Tom parted the thicket and maneuvered through the winter landscape as though this was the exact route he wanted to take. When he came to a low overhanging branch, he grabbed it and pulled it down as he ducked beneath it. Releasing it a moment later, he grinned when he heard the expected “ow!” Now he had an idea of who was following him. He decided to make a game of it.

He wove in and out of the brush, trying to get the culprit to make a mistake, but the intruder proved persistent, keeping a safe distance.

The shadow fell behind far enough that Tom used the opportunity to double back and pick up the pace, and suddenly he found himself right behind the guilty party. He couldn’t help but grin at Jeremy’s wide-eyed, startled look when he realized Tom was following him.

Mae’s brother stood in the snow holding two towel-wrapped packages, his wind-chapped cheeks flushed pink. “I didn’t mean no harm, Mr. Curtis.”

“Why are you following me?” The boy appeared to search for words, and Tom remembered the young’un’s condition. He softened his tone. “Jeremy, did Mae send you to tell me something?”

He shook his head, and Tom focused on the two packages in the boy’s hands. “Did she send my dinner?”

A negative head shake again.

He gently took the boy by the shoulders. “What is it, Jeremy? Is it Pauline? Does she need me?”

“I want to work, like a man. I was going to fry some chickens, but cooking’s not much of a man’s job, and neither is keeping track of the dogs. I do that all the time anyway. I want to do
real
work.”

“Real work?” The boy wanted to lay track. “Jeremy, I think caring for the animals is a man’s work, but I need strong, grown men to tote and carry heavy material. We’ll be handling rails and ties. I’m afraid you’d hurt yourself.”

The child’s chin sank and it broke Tom’s heart, but he couldn’t take the chance of the boy injuring himself. Patting his shoulder, Tom gently turned him and said, “Go on back to town.” He’d like to oblige Jeremy, but he had enough worries waiting ahead.

He resumed the short trek to the wreckage. The sounds of men’s shouts, metal clanging against metal, and wreckage being cleared broke the early morning silence. He could say one thing for the folks of Dwadlo—they weren’t afraid of hard work. He turned to check his shadow, and his heart sank when he spotted the hem of Jeremy’s yellow coat disappearing into the thicket. Mae was doing a fine job of raising him, but there were times in a boy’s life when he needed a man’s companionship. He sighed. “Come here, Jeremy.”

The boy emerged, trailed by two dogs, and all three of them had their tails tucked between their legs.

He motioned him closer and the boy complied. “Son.” He placed his hands on the boy’s thin shoulders again. “You’ve done a good job caring for the animals. I’m going to promote you.”

Jeremy smiled. “Okay.”

“The high winds make it hard to keep the lanterns lit. I need someone I can trust to make sure each light is burning and the pots are filled to the brim with oil before they leave the site.”

Jeremy’s face fell, and Tom realized the boy was bright enough to know when he’d been offered yet another token job. His expressive eyes conveyed a man’s need, and Tom knew he would only settle for something a man could do.

“But,” he cautioned, “this means you’ll be in charge of the kerosene. No one comes near that barrel unless
you
authorize it. Supplies will be scarce until the track repair is finished. Think you’re up to it?”

A grin broke across the boy’s features. “Yes, sir!”

“The job only pays an extra nickel a day.”

“I’d do it for nothing.”

Negotiation wasn’t Jeremy’s strong suit. “Can you handle the job and take care of your duties at home? Mae doesn’t need any additional work, especially now, and you can’t forget that you still work for Pauline, helping her with the animals.”

“I can do everything,” the boy assured him.

Tom focused on the dogs. “There are rules to working for the railroad, and one rule is you have to keep all animals off the job site. They get underfoot otherwise and in the men’s way.”

Nodding, Jeremy accepted the duty. “They won’t bother you.”

“Thanks, son.” Jeremy’s shoulders were now back, and he walked like a proud man with a purpose. Tom was glad he could help, even if it wasn’t much. At least the boy would benefit from the experience. The two men walked on, shadows in sync.

Tom had to grin when he realized that Jeremy had now hoisted a pick over his shoulder. The boy must have brought the tool in hopes of getting the job.

Fisk moved about the site, pitching great chunks of metal onto a growing pile of twisted and useless parts. His massive arms plowed through the wreckage like a fox in a henhouse. When Tom and Jeremy approached, he glanced up with a wide grin.

“Already making a little progress, boss.”

Tom acknowledged the work with a grin at his new appellation, but he looked up and down the site and knew they had a long way to go. “Jeremy.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s time to start. Go over to the supply wagon and fill water buckets from the barrels. Everything you need should be there. Don’t forget to take a ladle with you so the men have something to drink from.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

“Oh, and do you know how to build a fire?”

“I do, Mr. Curtis.”

“There’s dry wood in one of those wagons. Would you build three fires for me and space them a few yards apart?”

“I can do that. And after I get the fires built I can brew some coffee.”

Tom was proud of the young man’s enthusiasm. “Good idea. Now, Fisk, that’s what I call a man willing to work hard to earn his pay.”

Maybe the boy was going to be more help than he’d thought.

T
om grabbed a pick and started to work. The new job felt awkward. He should be inside an office somewhere, where it was warm and he didn’t have to use his back to make a dollar. Yet it felt good to work side by side men he admired.

All of the new hires stayed busy, and every so often he’d see Jeremy struggle by with buckets of water or keeping the fires ablaze. The boy knew how to work hard.

The sun was now overhead, raising the temperature to a bearable level, and even some of the snow had started melting. Tom glanced up when he saw a female rider approach. For a split second his heart experienced an odd quirk, but when he saw that the rider was Lil, his pulse slowed. She rode into camp wearing a man’s hat, coveralls, and scuffed red leather boots.

Several men called out to her when she dismounted, and she waved them a greeting. Tom paused and watched her exchange a few short words with Fisk before turning and striding in his direction.

“Curtis.” She reached out to pump his hand like a man would greet another man. She had a grip like a vise.

“Nice to see you again, Lil. What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to work.”

“Thanks, but the women are in charge of the meals. I’m sure they’d welcome an extra hand in town.”

“I can’t cook. I eat out of cans and jars.” Her eyes swept the wreckage.

Tom skimmed her rough exterior. She was sturdy as all get-out, but a woman’s place was in the kitchen. “Now, Lil—”

Her hands fisted, and she rested them on her hips as though she expected trouble. “Don’t go giving me this ‘woman’ talk, mister. I may be a woman, but I can outwork any man here.” She pulled on a heavy pair of gloves. “I’ll join Fisk in what he’s doing if that’s okay.”

Leaning back against a locomotive wheel, Tom released a long breath. Well. By the determined expression on her face, he supposed it would have to be.

It was going to be a long week.

By midafternoon dark clouds blocked the sun and heavy sleet was falling, stinging faces. Winter wasn’t Tom’s favorite time of year even in Chicago. No matter how much a man was bundled up, the chill went straight to the bone. Everyone in Dwadlo said they hadn’t seen the likes since most could remember.

The frigid January temperatures made it hard enough for the crew to work when it wasn’t sleeting or snowing, so Tom decided to call it a day. “Okay, boys, lets wrap it up and get out of the cold. I’m sure we’ll see enough of it over the next few days. No need for anyone catching their death.”

It didn’t take long for tools to be gathered, the supply wagon loaded, and the men to make their way home.

Tom had hoped Tuesday would be a better day, but it proved just the opposite. Construction stalled when the railroad sent lighter rail gauge than needed, and it wasn’t temporary track. At least Fisk had been right about moving the locomotive. An elephant should be able to do the job. Who would have thought an elephant lived in North Dakota, out in the middle of nowhere, cared for by a woman? Tom had to laugh. When he got back to the yard in Chicago and told the story, he doubted anyone would believe him.

What the railroad couldn’t ship by rail was being sent by wagon. The problem was the weather, which had yet to cooperate with his plans. He hated all the delays. A sense of restlessness started to nag him. This was going to take longer than he’d anticipated.

Late Tuesday afternoon, when he was sure nothing else could be done, he saddled the mare he’d borrowed from the livery and asked Fisk for directions to Lil’s house. It was time to inquire about using the elephant to speed up productivity.

Despite his growing frustration with the situation, Tom had to smile when he thought of Lil. He couldn’t help a grudging respect for her. She worked like a beaver. Though he didn’t know much about her, he knew she raised hogs, dressed like a man, and cussed like a pirate—and she and Mae were close friends. He couldn’t think of a more unlikely pairing.

Fisk had been quick to tell him where the woman lived, and he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the trek with him, so Tom went alone. Lil’s house sat in a hog wallow some distance outside of Dwadlo. The tin roof of the shanty sagged beneath the heavy snow atop it. The dogs that had followed him from town immediately got into it with Lil’s pack when they darted out of a large barn, taller and wider than most.

He neared the porch and she appeared, shotgun leveled at her hip right at him.

Getting off his horse he called, “Lil, it’s Tom Curtis.” Then he tried to shake a growling mongrel loose from his pant leg.