Colorado Dawn (39 page)

White-faced and round-eyed, the woman could only shake her head. “Take my arm.” Eldora steadied the woman.

“I’ll help you.” Eldora looked up into the dear face of Buckford. He had a gash on his temple and a split lip, but he smiled. “It’s nothing serious. What about David and Karen and the children?”

“Rattled, but no injuries, thankfully. The private car is the only one that appears to still be intact and reasonably unharmed. A miracle.”

“Has anyone seen the conductor?” Eldora let Buckford take the lead, stamping along the path she and Sam had already tread. The woman they helped seemed as frozen as the landscape. When they reached the private car, Buckford directed Eldora to precede him and then handed the woman up the steps.

“I suggest tacking some blankets over those windows and checking the coal stove. Make people as comfortable as you can. Rip up the sheets for bandages if need be.” He turned to go.

“Wait! I’m coming with you.”

“No, miss. You’ll be of more use here.”

She knew he spoke the truth, but everything in her wanted to be with Sam.

By the time the passenger car was cleared, they had seventeen additional passengers crowded into the private car. Every chair, sofa, and bed was occupied. Several cuts, many bruises, and one broken arm comprised the injuries. Still missing were the engineer, the brakeman, the fireman, and the mail clerk from the baggage car, all presumed dead.

Sam and the conductor were the last to enter the Mackenzie car, and one look at his face told Eldora that things were even worse than she’d feared.

Sam wanted to slam his fist into the florid man’s face, but he refrained, clenching his jaw. “You don’t get it, do you?” How many times did he have to spell it out before these people would see reason? “There’s been an avalanche—albeit a minor one. We can’t clear the track ourselves. It’s going to take a snowplow from the other direction and an army of shovelers. Every car in this train has derailed to some extent. We’ll need a crane to lift them upright again. This train isn’t going anywhere under its own power, but it might go right down this mountainside if the rest of that snow shelf up there lets go.” He pointed to the up-mountain side of the car.

“I say we wait right here until they can dig us out.” The spokesperson—self-elected—from the passenger car crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. His enormous red side-whiskers jutted from his paunchy cheeks like porcupine quills.

“Do you see that snow out there?” Sam waved toward one of the unbroken windows. “At the rate it’s falling, we’ll be lucky if we don’t get buried alive. And the chance of another avalanche grows by the hour.”

Crowded into the car like a bunch of canned oysters, shaken and terrified by the crash and the implications, it hadn’t taken long—less than an hour—before people began to crack under the strain. Arguments, tears, and now a standoff. The conductor was useless—dazed and silent—and no other train employee appeared to have survived the initial wreck.

Florid-face wasn’t done yet. “We’ve got shelter and some food here and a fire. There are injuries and women and children. We’re miles from the nearest stop. We’re past due already. Help is probably already on its way.”

Sam looked from face to face. Karen and the children huddled close to the stove. Eldora stood in the passageway door, her hand bracing herself against the tilt of the car. “What do you suggest, Sam?”

“The risk of another avalanche aside, there’s the issue of heat. We have one hod of coal left for this little stove. The coal tender for the engine is buried in snow and ice. There’s not much food aboard, and with more than twenty people it won’t last us more than a meal or two, even if we go sparingly. I think we have to try to make it out on foot.”

The large man snorted, and his hands flew out in an exasperated arc. “On foot? Have you lost your mind? Do you even know exactly where we are?”

“We’re in Shadow Peak Pass. As the crow flies, we’re less than ten miles from Martin City.”

“Ten miles might as well be a hundred. We’ll freeze to death or get lost in this blizzard.”

Several nods and frowns. Those who stood more than a few feet from the stove blew out puffs of frosty air, and the wind howled, flapping the meager blankets tacked over the shattered windows. The temperature continued to plummet.

“We can’t leave in the teeth of the storm, I agree. But with the lack of provisions and the imminent threat of another avalanche, I strongly feel that we must go first thing in the morning. There are more men than women, and we can help the weaker ones and the children. In the meantime, some of us should go to the passenger car and see if we can find anything to burn in the stove through the night.”

David caught Sam’s arm and tugged him close to whisper. “There’ve been a couple of thaws in between these heavy snowfalls the past week or so. That snow pack will be unstable with sheets of ice between the layers of snow. I’m half-surprised they didn’t close the line, but I was so eager to get home, especially for the sake of the children, that I put it out of my mind.”

Sam took in his brother’s bunched brows and tight lips. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. Just be ready to move out as soon as we can. It won’t be easy, but I know you’re up to it.”

“I’m not worried for myself.” His grip tightened on Sam’s coat sleeve. “What about Karen and the children? I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Karen or the baby or those kids.”

Sam squeezed his brother’s shoulder and edged his way to Eldora’s side. Her eyes bespoke her worry and understanding of their peril. In that instant, Sam knew how David felt. If anything happened to the women and children—to Eldora—as a result of his actions, he’d never forgive himself. He took Eldora’s hand, wishing neither wore gloves so he could feel the warmth of her palm against his and draw comfort from her touch.

She curled her fingers around his for a moment. “I’m worried about Tick. Look how pale he is.”

Sam craned to see the little boy. His eyes stood out in his pinched face. “You think his heart is playing up again?”

“The doctor warned us about stressful situations. I don’t know what to do. Should I give him more medicine? Less?”

Would moving him from the train pose a greater peril than a possible avalanche? Would the boy be up to a trek over the mountain? Heaviness settled into the pit of his stomach. “I’m going over to the passenger car. I’ll be back soon. See about sorting out what foodstuffs we have, will you?”

She nodded. “Be careful.”

“And gather the kids and Karen. Put on as many layers as you can. It’s going to be a cold night.” He gripped her hands. “And a colder tomorrow.”

I
’m asking you to reconsider.” Sam tested the ropes on his improvised pack. “You heard the smaller slides during the night. It’s only a matter of time before a big one wipes this train right off the tracks and into that ravine.” He jerked his thumb toward the windows behind him that faced the chasm.

“You’re the one who should reconsider. It’s beyond criminal to take children and women—especially a woman so obviously delicate—out in these conditions.” Sam’s chief antagonist throughout the past night once again reiterated his case.

“Do you think I haven’t wrestled with this from every angle? If I didn’t think we were sitting in a death trap here, I wouldn’t budge so much as a foot until the snowplows came. But we don’t know how many snow slides there are between here and the next stop. They might be days getting to us. With the minor slides now blocking us from the rear, we’re well and truly boxed in. No food, not much fuel left, and that ledge overhead ready to let loose at any minute? We can’t stay here.”

“When one of those children or women dies as a result of your foolishness, I’m going to see to it that you’re brought up on charges.” The red-faced man, Talbot, crossed his arms and scowled.

Sam turned away, lifting the pack. “Take care, and if you do decide to walk out of here, make sure every group has a lantern and some matches. When we reach Martin City, we’ll send out a rescue party.”

Seven people waited for him, looking to him to lead them to safety. David, Karen, Buckford, Eldora, and the children. Not another single person from the passenger car had decided to join them. He ducked to peer under the window shade. Snow continued to fall, but the wind had died down. Heavy clouds obscured the sunlight, which would be in short supply in winter in any case, surrounded by peaks as they were.

“Buckford, I’m putting you in charge of Karen. Help her all you can.”

The older man’s face set in determined lines, and he nodded, putting his hand under her elbow.

Sam turned to Karen. “You’ll be sure to tell us when you get tired?”

“We’ll be fine.” Her tight smile and anxious eyes pierced him.

“David, I’m going to give you the pack to carry. It’s not heavy.”

“I can take it, Sam.”

“I know.” He slid the straps onto David’s shoulders. “Tick’s medicine is in there. Phin, you help David. Let him put his hand on your shoulder as you go ahead of him.”

He patted Phin on the head, and for once, the boy didn’t scowl and shrug away. His face bore the same determined lines as Buckford’s, a mature look that said, “You can count on me.”

“Eldora, you take Celeste’s hand.” He slipped a small packet to her and whispered, “Here are some matches and some of Tick’s medicine. I gave some to Buckford, too, just in case something happens and we lose the pack. Better not to have all our ore in one cart, you know?”

Eldora took the bundle and shoved it deep into her coat pocket.

He winked at her and chucked her under the chin. “Don’t worry. It will turn out all right.”

She nodded, her eyes wide in her heart-shaped face. The trust in her expression both gave him courage and increased the burden of responsibility already weighing on him.

He took up the coil of rope he’d prepared the night before and stuck his head and arm through it so it lay crossways on his chest.

“Now, young fellow. I’m thinking those snowdrifts will be higher than your head. You’ll do better if I take you up on my back.” Sam lifted Tick onto the edge of a chair and turned around. “Besides, we can help keep each other warm this way.” He grinned over his shoulder as Tick clambered up, wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, and tucked his hands under Sam’s muffler. “Poke your leg through the rope. It will help you stick on.” The boy weighed next to nothing, even bundled as he was.
Lord, please don’t let his heart play up
.

Talbot barred the door with his large frame. “I’m asking you not to go. Or at least to go alone and send back help.”

Sam blew out a breath and held on to his temper. “I’m not forcing anyone to go with me. They want to go. They understand the dangers. Now, let us pass.”

They stood toe-to-toe for a moment, but Sam held his ground, and Talbot stepped aside. Trying not to let his relief show, Sam opened the door and took the first blast of frigid air into his lungs. He picked up the lantern from beside the door, hooked it to his belt, and headed down the stairs. When he stepped off the bottom tread, he sank into the snow up to his knees. “Tick, you’re going to have to hang on tight. I’m going to need my hands free most of the time.”

“I can walk if you need me to.” His voice came through the folds of scarf Eldora had wound around his face.

“Naw, better for you to ride for now. Just keep hold.” Sam turned and helped first Karen and then David down the stairs. Buckford and Phin followed and took up their charges. “I’ll go first, then you, Buckford, with Karen. Phin, you follow next with David behind.” Eldora emerged onto the platform with Celeste. “Girls, you come last. If you start to fall behind, holler. We don’t want to get separated. I’ll try to break the trail for you as best I can. If you feel yourself start to slip, drop down on your backside and ride it out.”

He stood for a moment on the edge of the railroad bed and surveyed the best way to get to the valley below. His greatest fear was starting an avalanche that would send them shooting down to be buried in drifts. “We’re going to angle down and switch back. Stay in my footsteps as much as you can. We’ll have to keep a little room between us, just in case one of us does go down, so we don’t take the whole party with us. But don’t lag too much. Stay within earshot.”

With the lantern clanking against his hip, he picked up the length of wood he’d pried off one of the door jambs of the wrecked passenger car to use as a walking stick. As he took the first few steps, he whispered a prayer. “Lord, help us make it down. Keep the snow on the mountain, and please send help for those who wouldn’t come with us before it’s too late.”

Frosty clouds of breath mingled with swirling snowflakes, muffling sound. His boots sank into the drifts, and he probed for good footing before each step. One question bombarded him. Was he leading them away from danger or straight into it?