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Authors: Rosanne Bittner

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BOOK: Thunder on the Plains
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Pay she had. If she were not so sure that C. P. Huntington and other Central Pacific officials were doling out their own payoffs, she might have thought twice about what she had done; but in her world it was the rich against the richest. Bribes were as natural a part of daily business as sales and inventory. She was in this now for the long haul, and dangerous as it had been to come to Washington again, she was not about to stay away during this historic moment.

Blaine reached over and took her hand as they listened to each senator give his “yea” or “nay.” Until the last two weeks, she and Blaine had not seen each other since he left Chicago in March. It was now the end of June. Blaine had met her at the train station when she arrived in Baltimore and had ridden the train the rest of the way with her to D.C. It was a trip Sunny hoped she would not have to make again for a while. Skirmishes between North and South were taking place in and around Virginia, the Confederates trying to protect Richmond from being taken by federal troops. Every trip she made now was dangerous.

The names of senators from each state were called, more votes recorded. No one doubted that if the act was passed now by the Senate, President Lincoln would give his approval. The final wording of the act gave the Central Pacific and the Union Pacific equal opportunity and the same requirements for obtaining money. The U.P. would build westward from Omaha, the Central Pacific eastward from Sacramento, the two railroads uniting somewhere in the West. Already Sunny could feel the excitement of what was sure to be a construction race.

Blaine was making plans to go to northern California and southern Oregon to investigate the logging industry. He was sure there was an untapped source of great wealth there, and if the railroad bill was passed, it could open many new doors for lumbering.

Sunny was almost glad he was going. Since seeing him again, Blaine had inundated her with flowers and attention, and she knew that if they were together too much over the next few months, things would again come to the point where decisions would have to be made, decisions she didn't want to think about yet. Already Blaine talked of wanting her to marry him and go with him to the South of France, where his mother and sister lived, and to Africa, where he had himself done big-game hunting. He had all kinds of wonderful plans, but none of them excited her the way the thought of being a part of the transcontinental railroad made her heart rush, and now the railroad was becoming a reality.

She decided that once this new act was approved, she would immediately go to Omaha and hire builders to begin construction on new Landers Enterprises offices there, maybe even a new home. She would move the center of her U.P. interests to Omaha and make her home there while the railroad was being built so that she could be close to what was going on.

“That's it!” Blaine let go of her hand and jumped up, clapping his hands. Durant and the rest of his men were also standing and cheering now. Reporters began talking among themselves, some running out of the gallery, others coming over to talk to Durant. On the other side of the Senate gallery Central Pacific men were also cheering.

Sunny stayed in her seat, almost stunned. The bill had passed the Senate! She could hardly believe it, after years of fighting and talking and bribing and traveling and praying. She slowly rose, staring down at the circle of seats below, her eyes tearing.
We
did
it, Daddy
, she thought.
We
did
it.

Now the real work began. There were two thousand miles of track to be laid across a dangerous country and impossible mountains, and she was going to be a part of it! No matter what Blaine or Vince or anyone else thought of it, she was going back out to the land she loved and see this thing through to the finish. If possible, she was going to be at the joining of the rails, wherever that ended up taking place, and no matter how many years it took to get there! Nothing, and no one, would stop her now.

Chapter 13

Colt had never seen such country, huge forests of hardwood trees, every few miles another lake. He felt almost closed in sometimes by the hills and trees. All his life he had known nothing but wide-open spaces, where a man could see for miles. Coming back from Canada through Minnesota and Wisconsin had been a whole new experience, and a pleasant diversion, making the journey a little less lonely. He had seen Lake Superior and Lake Michigan, compared their vast openness to the Great Plains.

He had managed to get poor Elam to Canada, something that had turned out to be a harrowing experience. Just before reaching the Canadian border, there had been a Sioux uprising in Minnesota. He had no idea what had set it off, but he didn't doubt it had something to do with some white man doing something insulting and stupid, or with another broken promise.

Whatever the reason, he and Elam had seen the terrible results at two different settlements. They had encountered one group of fleeing settlers who had just vacated an entire small town and were heading for Wisconsin; and he and Elam had spent the rest of their journey doing their best to stay out of sight, hiding not only from the Sioux but from whomever Elam's master might have sent after them.

Elam was safe in Canada now, with a free Negro family who had kindly taken him in. He had learned a lot from the young Negro, and what he had heard he would not soon forget. It didn't seem right for a Christian-minded, freedom-loving country to allow slavery. He had vague memories of his father talking against the issue years earlier, as well as memories about how it felt to be treated like something worthless himself. The banishment of his people, which they now referred to as the Trail of Tears, was something he barely remembered, but sometimes a face would come to mind, an old woman crying, a child being buried. In spite of being so young at the time, he was aware that the experience had left him terribly defensive of his heritage and his person, as well as hurt at being treated as something less than human. He could understand how it must feel to be owned by another man. No man would own him, ever.

He headed Dancer up a sandy slope along Lake Michigan. The only other place he had seen sand like this was in southern Colorado, but there had certainly been no lake to go along with it. Dancer snorted in objection to the difficult climb. “Come on, boy,” Colt prodded. “Just a little more. I saw smoke on the horizon. I expect we're getting close.”

Horse and man finally reached the top of the sandhill, which had a much steeper descent on the other side. Colt had not realized he was already on some of the highest ground in the area. To the south, along the shoreline and west of it, the land dropped and spread out wide and flat. What it held made Colt stare in awe. He pulled Dancer's reins. “I'll be damned,” he muttered.

So, this was Sunny's Chicago. He thought Omaha was big, but there was no comparison. The city lay sprawled in the distance, smoke coming from tall brick stacks that Colt figured were some of the factories he had read about. Six- and seven-story buildings rose skyward. A river wound through the middle of the mass of tall buildings, and several bridges connected one side to the other, both riverbanks packed with what some men would call civilization. To Colt it was ugly. He would take his mountains any day.

“No wonder Sunny daydreams about the Plains,” he said to Dancer. He remembered one article he had read in an Omaha newspaper that spoke of how Omaha would soon be connected by rail to Chicago, “the world's busiest rail center,” it had read. Ten major railroad lines led into Chicago, one hundred trains a day coming into or leaving the city. He had taken special note of it because he knew Sunny owned one of those railroad lines outright, and a good share of stock in some of the others. Not only that, but there was Landers Great Lakes Shipping, Landers Warehousing, a freighting and supply company—he shivered. He had not imagined anything this big. Only now did it strike him full force just how rich and powerful Sunny Landers must be.

Was he a fool to come here and try to see her before going off to war? He had to come back south anyway, and someone in Wisconsin had told him that if he wanted to join the Union forces, he should go to Chicago. As long as he was here, it seemed only logical he should pay Sunny a visit. It hardly seemed fair to either of them to be so close and not try to see her. Now he was not so sure. He had not expected this. He thought he had a pretty good idea how big Chicago would be, but he had grossly underestimated what he would find, even though he had read that the city boasted a population of over one hundred thousand people.

He took a moment to gather his courage, deciding he would rather face Indians or stampeding buffalo than to ride into that noisy, smoky mess. He had to admit some of his nervousness had nothing to do with the city. He was worried about seeing Sunny. Maybe she never expected him to show up. Maybe she would be embarrassed or too busy.

Still, he could tell by her letters that she meant every word when she had told him to come. He could see her blue eyes as she wrote those letters, see her smile. It would be almost cruel to be right here on her turf and not go to see her. He squinted, scanning the horizon more, studying a scattering of homes that lay between him and the city proper. It was his understanding that Sunny's home was along the lake. Only about a quarter of a mile in the distance he could see one astounding mansion of a home. It made sense that was the area in which Sunny lived.

His heart raced as he headed Dancer down the steep sandy bank that was dotted with bunches of grass. He breathed in the smell of fish and water, new scents to which he had grown accustomed since arriving in this sometimes swampy country. He suspected that once he got into the city, the air would not smell so sweet. He scowled at the way smoke from the factories darkened the sky. White Buffalo and his people were right about one thing—the white man sure knew how to dirty up the land.

He wondered if it was possible cities could grow this big out west. Omaha was growing, as was Denver and Salt Lake City. None of them came close to Chicago, but neither did those cities have railroads feeding them. If Sunny's railroad got built, a lot of things would change. Still, the money it would take for such a project was enough to send a man's head spinning, certainly bigger numbers than he could imagine.

But
Sunny
can
imagine
that
kind
of
money
, he thought. He shook his head, his astonishment that she had answered his letters renewed. He slowed Dancer again as he reached the outlying homes. He decided he had better think about this. Perhaps he would just ride into the city first, get a damn good look at this place called Chicago, see what factories looked like, visit the rail yard, find out where to sign up for the army. He'd ask around, find out where Sunny lived for sure. That would give him time to decide if he should bother seeing her at all.

***

Tod looked up from his desk, a chill creeping down his spine at the sight of the tall, buckskin-clad, wild-looking young man who stood in front of him. He looked dangerous, obviously part Indian, a light scar running across his right eyebrow and down over his temple. Tod swallowed, glancing at the gun and knife the man wore on his wide, beaded leather belt. “Can I…help you?”

The man removed his hat, revealing neat, clean, dark hair that hung in waves about his neckline. A surprisingly friendly look came into his hazel eyes, and when he smiled, Tod thought he was outright handsome, or at least he could be if he were not dressed so crudely.

“I'm Colt Travis. I, uh, I don't know if Miss Landers ever mentioned me, but I was her guide a few years ago when she and her father—”

“Travis! So,
you're
Colt Travis!” Tod rose, hardly coming to Colt's shoulders, glad there was a desk between them, since he still wasn't sure he could trust the man. He looked him over, hardly able to believe this was the man Sunny had corresponded with and of whom she talked so fondly. “Yes, I know who you are. I'm Tod Russell, Miss Landers's personal secretary.”

Colt frowned. “You work
for
her?”

Tod reddened slightly. “Yes. I worked for her father, and stayed on after he died. Miss Landers took over everything, you know. She needed my expertise to help her through the transition, and she is very pleasant to work for.”

Colt grinned. “I'll bet she is.” He decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He supposed in this crazy city maybe nobody thought anything about a middle-aged man working for a young woman. He had already given up being surprised at much stranger things he had seen. “Is Sunny in?”

“No. She went home about three o'clock. She had some things to do to prepare for quite a large dinner party she is having tonight at the mansion. I, uh—” Tod hesitated. Was it safe to tell this man where Sunny lived? He could not see why he shouldn't. She seemed to be very fond of him and to trust him, and, after all, there were plenty of men who guarded the mansion and the grounds. “I can explain to you how to find her if you like.”

Colt nodded. “Yes, I would.” He glanced at another door that read
Sunny Landers
. “Is that where she does her work when she's in?”

Tod nodded. “Would you like to see her office?”

“Sure, if it's all right.”

Tod looked him over again. “I don't know why not.” He walked around the desk and opened the door to Sunny's office, standing back and letting Colt inside.

Colt whistled softly as he looked around. “Damn,” he muttered. He walked farther into the huge room, admiring the beautiful plants and statues. He heard a bird-song and glanced over at the cage, walking closer. Tod took the opportunity to shake his head and smile disdainfully at how easily impressed this Mr. Travis seemed to be.

Colt studied the canary for a moment, and for some reason it made him think of White Buffalo. “Doesn't seem right, keeping a bird in a cage like that.” He thought how the bird seemed kind of a symbol of how the wealthy and powerful could stick people right where they wanted them to be, servants, slaves, cages for animals, reservations for Indians. It wasn't that he blamed someone like Sunny, but she was, after all, a part of the same system. Again it struck him that he must be an idiot for being here at all. He turned and gazed around the office, glancing then at the grandfather clock when it began to chime. He walked closer to it, studying the fine oak cabinet, enjoying the rich sound it made as it sounded out five o'clock.

What beautiful things Sunny had surrounding her. This room reeked of power and money. He turned to study the gilt-framed painting that hung on the wall behind her desk, stepping closer to admire it. “Well, well,” he muttered, smiling at the background for the magnificent locomotive. The train was set against wide-open prairie land. It was a beautiful painting, so real that it made him homesick for the West.

He sighed, turning to face Tod. “Can you draw me a map or something, show me how to get to Sunny's home?”

Tod looked him over again. “Of course. The way Miss Landers talks about you, she would probably fire me if I didn't.”

Colt followed him to the outer office. “She talks about me that much?”

“Oh, she did for a while there, when you wrote her those letters. But lately she hasn't said so much. She's been so involved with her plans for offices and such in Omaha, what with the railroad act being passed and all. She's a very, very busy lady now.”

“They passed a bill for a transcontinental railroad?”

“Yes.” Tod sat down and took out a piece of paper and a pen.

“Sunny is going to have offices in Omaha?”

“That's what she says. She might even build a home there. She's in the process right now of finding someone to take over for her here. She wants to take her brother Stuart with her, and of course she would never allow Vince to step into her shoes here. There is no love lost between those two. At any rate—” Tod hesitated, taking a moment to draw some lines and name some streets. “At any rate, between the railroad act and Omaha and a certain Mr. Blaine O'Brien, Miss Landers has her hands full.”

“Who is Blaine O'Brien?”

Tod looked up at him. What was this man's interest in Sunny Landers? Was he really just a friend, or was he someone out to get Sunny's money, as Vince yelled at Sunny once? He decided that whatever this Colt Travis wanted, someone like Sunny would never even remotely consider such a primitive, unrefined man as a lover or a husband, discounting the fact that he was half Indian. It gave Tod the shivers to think of how vicious this man could be when necessary, from the stories he had heard. At any rate, he supposed Colt ought to know where things stand before he saw Sunny.

“Mr. O'Brien is Miss Landers's, uh, love interest, you might say.” He watched Colt's eyes, caught the little flash of jealousy. So, there
was
a little more here than friendship. He decided that if there was, it was certainly one-sided. This Colt Travis nowhere near compared to Blaine O'Brien. “Mr. O'Brien is one of the richest men in the country,” he added, deciding to do his part in discouraging any romantic thoughts this foolish young man might have about Sunny. “His father was owner of O'Brien Shipping, one of the biggest freighting and passenger lines between the United States and Europe. Mr. O'Brien inherited the business. He is also one of the primary investors in the Union Pacific Railroad—that's what the new railroad will be called. He is interested in investing in land in the Northwest. Once the railroad is completed, he believes there will be a huge new market for lumber, and he wants to get in on the ground floor.”

Tod enjoyed the idea that he must be greatly impressing Colt with his description of Blaine O'Brien, whom he greatly respected. He looked down and finished his drawing. “Mr. O'Brien has been courting Miss Landers for about a year and half now,” he added casually. “Everyone believes they'll end up getting married in the not-too-distant future, but right now Miss Landers says the railroad has to come first. She isn't quite ready for a full commitment, although no one doubts that she loves the man. I suppose her first loyalty is still to her father's memory and his dream of a railroad. Bo Landers was quite a man. I miss him very much.” Tod sighed and stood up. “Here you are.”

BOOK: Thunder on the Plains
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ads

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