Far Away Home (23 page)

Chapter 24

Aislynn stood at
the front door of the restaurant watching the rain fall in long, shiny strings
against the window. People on the sidewalk passed like soggy specters. Carrie
was helping Mrs. Spittlehouse care for three chicken-poxed children. With No
Nose helping Johnny, Aislynn found herself alone and lonely. Anxiety had risen
with her that morning, and the longer she idled, the stronger it grew.

She pulled her
thin scarf over her head and ran across the yard to the smithy. Aislynn rarely
visited the blacksmith shop. It was a place for dirt, animals and sweaty men.
She stood inside the open barn doors and watched Johnny. He was standing before
the fire pounding a piece of glowing iron. His broad back faced her. Through
his shirt, she could see the waves of his muscles roll as he raised his mallet
and brought it ringing down on the metal. The concussion made his arm tremble
and sent drops of sweat showering off the strands of his hair. Aislynn’s eyes
traveled down to his thick legs. She felt herself blush as she recalled those
legs pressing on hers.

Johnny must have
felt her presence. He turned and sent her a quick grin. The beauty of his eyes
and the sweetness in his smile struck her heart. His gaze did not bring her the
flash of heat Moran’s could, but Aislynn now knew the value of a slow, steady
flame.

Laying down his
work, he walked toward her. “What brings you here?” he asked, wiping his hands
on his pants. Shyness grabbed her. Now that she was with him; she was not sure
what she was going to do. She bit her lip and stared down at the dirt.

Johnny cocked
his head, trying to catch her gaze. He held her hips and pulled her close for a
kiss. She reached for his mouth with hers and ran her tongue over his lips.
Johnny’s head jerked back, and he gave her a startled look. She spread her
hands over his chest and pressed her pelvis forward. A soft moan rose from his
throat. He turned to No Nose and announced he would be back in awhile.

They rushed into
the kitchen. Johnny stopped at the sink and pumped some water over his face and
his hands while Aislynn pulled his shirt out of his pants, and over his head.
She led him into their room and told him to sit on the edge of the bed. She
knelt down and pulled off his boots. When she stood up, he started to urge her
down. Aislynn pushed his hands away and said, “You just watch.”

A smile burst
across his face, “I can do that.”

Standing between
his legs, Aislynn slowly undressed, letting each layer of clothing fall to the
floor. She reached up, pulled the combs from her hair and shook it loose.
Johnny leaned toward her, but she pushed him down on the bed. “You have to
wait,” she said kneeling next to him.

Johnny had
always taken the lead. “For what?”

“Just wait.”

Aislynn started
to kiss his mouth and worked her way down his chest and over his belly. Her
hair swept him as she moved. When she came to his pants, she hesitated. She
unbuttoned the fly, and pushed his pants open; however, she discovered a
dilemma. She had rarely looked at him and had never actually touched him.
Rocking back on her heels, she faced him. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
now.”

Johnny laughed
and pulled her down on the bed, “I do.”

While Aislynn
studied her ledger and calendar, Johnny started to clear off the table occupied
by Murphy and No Nose.

“Johnny Maher,
you doin’ women’s work?” No Nose chided.

“I’d eat your
socks if it would get me home in bed with my wife sooner,” he answered.

Aislynn’s eyes
flew open. “Johnny!”

He approached
her, and she whispered, “Must you let them know?”

“Aislynn, they
know. It wouldn’t be natural if we weren’t.”

“But… it’s
private.”

“I’m sorry,
Angel. But I do want to get home. It’s our last night alone.”

Tim had gone to
Ogden to meet the morning train bringing the Mahers and Emma to Utah. The house
stood empty and quiet as Aislynn and Johnny bustled into the kitchen. He
started to pull off her apron as soon as the door clicked shut. They left a
trail of clothes as they kissed and groped their way through the hall, the
parlor and into the bedroom.

Lying in the
afterglow, Aislynn mused that at times, it was hard for her to know where he
ended, and she began. She had always thought there would be parts of herself
she would to keep for herself, but now, it seemed Johnny asked for so little,
she wanted to give him everything.

Resting on
Johnny’s chest, she propped her chin on her hands. “I have something to tell
you.”

“I know,” he
smiled.

“How is it you
know everything?”

“Well, first
off, you haven’t bled since March and second, I can feel your body changin’.
Lastly, I don’t believe we could have worked harder at it unless we gave up our
jobs,” he laughed.

“Well, I knew
you’d be happy.”

Johnny’s tone
turned somber. He petted her hair, “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m just a
little scared.”

“We’ll be fine,
Angel. It’s the greatest thing that can happen. Babies bind us eternally. They
make our love last forever.”

She bent forward
and kissed his chest. “I do love you.”

“I know that,
too.”

While Johnny
slept, Aislynn thought about their baby.
It is a wonder how our lives have
been tied together. There are forces in the universe, strong forces that can
align the planets. They direct our destiny, and all we can do is follow.

Sleep had
settled briefly on Aislynn, when the fire alarm startled them awake. With fires
a frequent occurrence in the camp, Johnny jumped into what had become a
routine. As he pulled on his pants, Aislynn dragged herself out of bed.

“If you’re
comin’, you have to hurry,” he announced.

She pushed her
feet into her shoes and searched for her work dress. It had been lost in the
kitchen, so it was there she pulled it on.

It was easy to
spot the fire, a great glow at the bottom of Main Street. This time it was the
boot shop, a wooden building situated hard up against the newspaper office, not
fifty feet from Stella’s big, new pleasure house. Flames were eating their way
through the walls and ceiling, as men doused the adjacent buildings with
buckets of water.

The pumper
clanged down Main Street from the mine. Hoses were stretched and filled. The
shouting of the men competed with the crashing and crackling of the fire. The
air filled with smoke and the smell of burning leather.

The fingers of
flames stretching out the windows transfixed Aislynn. Johnny was instantly
engaged with his brigade, strategizing the best approach. The fire swallowed
the roof. As it collapsed, it gushed a great gust of heat. Aislynn screamed.

Johnny’s arms
rushed around her. In her ear, he suggested she go back to the restaurant and
brew some strong coffee. “These men are half asleep or full drunk. It would be
a big help.”

“Alone?”

“You have your
gun?”

Aislynn nodded,
the tiny pistol lived in her dress pocket. “But the marauders?” The entire town
had heard the tales of havoc laid-off rail workers were causing in Utah. When
the Transcontinental Railroad was completed, some ten thousand men were left
unemployed in the remote territory. Most had recklessly squandered their pay at
“Hell on Wheels.” The honest men accepted their circumstances and quietly
wandered away. The miscreants were scouring Utah: stealing, raping and
murdering.

“They aren’t in
our area,” Johnny said.

“I want to stay
with you.”

“I have a fire
to fight. Now show these men what a good, lovin’ wife you are.” He lifted her
chin and kissed her mouth. Patting her behind, Johnny turned her up the street.

Aislynn’s
anxiety flared. She tore up the boardwalk. Her eyes strafed the street and
alleys, while her ears strained for unfamiliar sounds. Her pace increased as
she passed through the dark spaces between the lighted buildings. When she
reached the restaurant, she unlocked the door. Peering into the dimness, she
squinted to see if anyone was inside. She reached for a lowered lamp and turned
it up. The restaurant appeared empty and safe. Aislynn returned to the door and
locked it behind her.

While the stove
grew hot and she waited for the coffee to brew, her curiosity brought her to
the door. She stepped out on the boardwalk. Above her, the sky was black, but
at the end of the street, the orange glow reached into heaven. Flames were
shooting up, releasing tiny stars rising gently above the chaos. They floated
into the darkness until they extinguished themselves. Like the shooting stars
she and Johnny had seen over the Trail, Aislynn wished on these as they had
wished on them.

As she watched,
one huge ball of light flared up over the camp, sending thousands of big,
brilliant cinders skyward. The embers, caught on the waves of heat, danced into
the darkness and waltzed toward eternity. She heard a crash, a whoosh and a
roar from the crowd. Hypnotized by the fireworks, Aislynn forgot her pots until
one sizzled and sputtered, boiling over on the stove.

Aislynn ran to
move the pot off the flame. She began collecting her metal mugs and attempted
to devise a means to transport everything down the hill. While searching for a
large basket, the door creaked open behind her. Instantly, she remembered; she
had forgotten to lock it. Her hand dove into her pocket and found the pistol.
She cocked the hammer and wrapped her finger around the trigger.

Chapter 25

Aislynn spun
around and discovered Moran standing in the doorway. His hair and his beard
were singed white and the ruffles running up the front of his shirt were
charred black. A sorrowful expression hung on his face.

“Get out!” she
yelled across the restaurant.

He reached his
arms out to her. His hands were wrapped in bloody handkerchiefs. “Aislynn, I’m
so sorry,” he uttered with gravity, swallowing hard.

Aislynn
screamed, “Get out. You’ve got nothing to say to me!” Her hands clapped her
ears.

He started
across the floor, shaking his head. “Aislynn, please.”

“No!” Her fear
and its attendant shriek came from a dark place she had never touched before.
They were not directed at Moran. It was what he had brought in with him. There
is a phantom that flies with the banshees. It strangles the throat, pierces the
heart and consumes the body with pain that only time and tears can expel. It
turned her bones to fluid, and she flowed to the floor.

Moran crouched
next to her. “I’m sorry,” his voice was thick with tears. “There was nothing…”
The tragedy lodged in his throat. Each time he reached for her, she cringed and
cried out. Rising, he doused the fire with the coffee and returned to Aislynn.
She had curled into a small heap; her hands clutched her hair and soft whimpers
escaped from her trembling body.

Moran placed a
hand on her back, “I’ll take you home.”

“I have to get
him … I have to help him.”

“No one can help
him. We tried. He rushed in to rescue Bowman, and the roof collapsed.”

“You don’t know
for sure.”

“Aislynn,” his
voice was cracking, “no one could survive that kind of heat and fire. Believe
me, we tried.”

Aislynn took a
long, silent look at his red, raw face. Moran calmed under her scrutiny and
continued, “Murphy and No Nose are there. When the fire is out, they’ll take
care of Johnny; I promise.” He pulled her to her feet. “Let me take you home.”

Moran took her
arm, and she blindly followed him home. He turned up a lamp, and they stepped
over the clothes scattered on the floor as he led her into the parlor. Aislynn
took a seat while Moran disappeared into the kitchen. She heard him searching
for something but made no attempt to help. When he returned, he handed her a
drink. “Take this,” he ordered. Without thinking, she swallowed the potion; its
bitterness stirred her into reality. There had to be an explanation; she had to
find it. “Didn’t anyone see the danger?” she demanded. “Why didn’t anyone stop
him? Who was with him?” 

She grilled him
until the drug numbed her mind and her body, then she sank into the chair. All
the tension holding her body taut and upright snapped, and she collapsed like a
marionette.

The first thing
Aislynn noticed when she opened her eyes was her throbbing head. She pulled
herself up on one elbow and looked out the window. The sun on the window was
hard and bright. Through the accumulated dirt and dust, everything she saw was
reduced to dark shapes and light spaces. She fell back and turned to Johnny’s
side. As soon as she realized he was absent, panic hit her heart, but, at the
same moment, she heard pots clanging. Hope bolted her into the kitchen. Liam
Moran was standing in front of the stove. The shock took her breath.

“I made you some
coffee,” he offered.

Aislynn stood
with her mouth moving and no words escaping. She felt herself swaying.

“Maybe you
should sit down,” Moran suggested.

Her hand rushed
to her mouth, “I think I’m going to be sick.” She brushed past him and ran out
the back door. Leaning over the porch railing, she vomited. Moran followed her
with a damp cloth and a helpful hand.

When she was
wiped clean, they entered the parlor to find No Nose and Murphy. After they
extended their condolences, Murphy proudly explained the arrangements. “We want
him to have a hero’s send off. He deserves all the honors, Aislynn; he died in
the line of duty. We’ll wake him at the Claimjumper tomorrow, and the day
after, we’ll have a grand funeral.”

Aislynn nodded.
She listened to the words, but they made little sense. All she could hear was a
soft buzzing, like seashells were being held to her ears. She sat in a chair at
the front window and watched the street. As she waited, the buzzing grew
louder.

When the wagon
pulled up, Aislynn rose and stood solid as stone on the front porch. She
greeted Mrs. Maher and Kathleen with silent kisses. Murphy and Moran quickly
guided them into the house, entreating them to sit so they could better bear
the awful news. Trembling, she labored down the steps to Tim. He was unloading
the wagon. Without turning around, he grumbled, “Emma couldn’t come. She’s too
frail.”

Aislynn stared
at his back and made no comment. He turned and faced her, placing a valise on
the ground. His eyes scanned hers and terror jumped across the two feet of Utah
sunshine separating them. In a voice full of fear, he asked, “What happened?”

Most things in
Aislynn’s life became truly real when she shared them with Tim. As the buzzing
in her ears burst into a roar, she collapsed against his chest and sobbed,
“He’s dead.”

Moran’s carriage
carried Aislynn, Mrs. Maher, Kathleen, Carrie and a priest, who seemed to
materialize from nowhere. He spoke words of comfort that Aislynn did not hear.
They followed the fire wagon bearing Johnny’s body, strewn with red, white and
blue bunting. Standing next to the grave, between No Nose and Tim, Aislynn
could hear the distant thumping of the stamp mill out on the flat. The heart of
the camp, it beat steadily, reminding her that her heart, fragile and near
collapse, was still beating, too.

The thudding of
shovelfuls of dirt hitting the wooden casket brought her out of herself. She
watched the mourners passing by, each taking a turn with the shovel, depositing
their own form of condolences before her. Their numbers seemed endless. She
could see by the movement of her dim shadow, ticking off the minutes that a
great deal of time had passed.
Time is just the space between then and now.
With each second, she knew she moved further away from Johnny; a journey she
did not want to make.

The crowd
diminished. Most had gone to the Claimjumper to drink Johnny’s spirit into the
next world. Only Aislynn, Tim, and No Nose remained at the grave. No Nose
proudly pushed the iron cross he had wrought into the ground. She gave them a
sad smile and sank to her knees. Aislynn rested her cheek on the mound of loose
earth and pressed an ear against the silence. In the warmth of the freshly
turned soil, she imagined she could feel him. She could hear him in the wind
and smell him in the wood smoke drifting down from the camp, but all she could
see was the dark, damp dirt. Her tears slid off her face, onto the grave and
were absorbed quickly. Aislynn hoped they would touch Johnny.

“It’s time to
go,” Tim announced. The Mahers were waiting in the carriage with the priest.

Aislynn looked
up at the dark clouds bunching around the summit. “He’s going to get wet,” she
whispered and spread her hands over the soil, making no attempt to rise.

No Nose shrugged
as he and Tim exchanged looks. Tim crouched next to her and tried to catch her
eyes. “Aislynn?”

She stretched
her arms over the grave, her eyes pleading for help.

“We have to go,”
Tim stated, but she did not budge. He scanned the cemetery and released a heavy
sigh. Shaking his head, he unbuttoned his jacket. After he smoothed it over the
raised earth, he placed his arm around her shoulders and whispered, “He’ll be protected
now.”

Aislynn nodded.
Tim rose and pulled her to her feet. “Take my hand, Aislynn. We’re going home.”

Aislynn drew the
drapes and climbed into her cold bed. Searching for Johnny’s scent, she hugged
his pillow. She felt like a dark star, with grief pulling her in so tightly, it
squeezed everything out of her. For two nights and two days, she lay in the
dark. Her mind struggled to find a reason for her loss, but no explanation was
apparent, so she waited in the darkness for a sign.

On the third evening
of her isolation, Mother Maher broke through. “You’ve got to eat somethin’.”

Aislynn sat up
in bed and nibbled on jam and bread. She sipped tea while Mrs. Maher opened the
drapes and cracked the window. Aislynn could hear the world beyond her room. She
wondered how other lives could go on while hers had stopped.

“The world
hasn’t ended. It just feels that way to you,” Mother Maher said, “Life’s still
gotta be lived.”

Aislynn thought
on this for a few minutes. “You’re right,” she murmured, realizing there was
something important she had to do. She rehearsed her words while she dressed.
She reached the cabin and knocked softly. Tim called for her to come in. He was
lying on the bed, reading a letter. He sat up and said, “It’s good to see you.”

Aislynn took a
deep breath, “You can go home, Tim. You don’t have to stay here on my account.
I’m going to be fine.”

“Aislynn…”

She held up her
hand. She was tearblind and choking, but she wanted to deliver her speech. “I
want you to live your own life. You should be with Emma.” She bit her lip
trying to hold in her sobs.

“No, I can’t
leave you.”

“You have to.
She can’t come here, so you have to go there. Please, Tim. I’m not alone. I
have Mother Maher, Kathleen, No Nose and everyone else.

“No.”

Aislynn placed
her index finger across his lips. “You have been telling me what to do my whole
life; now, I’m telling you. Go, Tim. Go now before it’s too late.” Aislynn
choked on her tears, “Love each other while you can, or you’ll miss your
chance.”

Tim wiped his
tears. “I do want to go, Aislynn. I’d feel so guilty.”

Aislynn took a
breath. “Tim, I have enough to feel bad about; don’t add to my sorrow by making
me feel responsible for keeping you two apart.”

Tim held out his
hands and pulled her next to him on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her,
and she buried her face in his shoulder. With a sigh, he whispered, “I’ll go as
soon as I can afford the ticket.”