“Yes, Mr. Payne. Gary, this is Timothy Payne, the supervisor for this part of the shops. Mr. Payne, this is Gary Ragsdale. He’s just moved here, and his folks are running the Grand Hotel.”
Mr. Payne nodded. “I watched it go up. Should provide some much-needed rooms. Gary, Owen tells me that you’ve never worked before. Railroad work isn’t easy, and there won’t be much in the way of second chances, since first mistakes often get you killed.”
Gary’s face paled despite the heat. “I understand. Owen told me the same thing. I know I’m not really cut out for this work right now, but I hope to prove myself.”
“I hope you do as well.” The older man looked at Owen and motioned across the room. “We’ll need that boiler remade by Friday instead of Monday. Can we get it done?”
“You bet we can,” Owen assured him. “It’s been going well. Hopefully the next fireman will be better acquainted with problem gauges.”
“Yeah, you can hope.” Mr. Payne left them then, calling out to someone across the open shop. “Davis!”
“Are you sure you want to give this a go, Gary?” Owen asked. “It really is going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever tried.”
Gary nodded, but Owen could see the boy wasn’t convinced. Owen took him to one of the workstations where several men were working.
“These are some of the men you’ll be working with temporarily. We call them boomers. They like to move around the country and work various jobs, never really settling down to one shop or location.”
“That sounds adventurous,” Gary declared, extending a hand to the man nearest him.
Owen made the introductions. “That’s Hercules Monroe. We call him Herc. This is Gary Ragsdale, fellas. He’ll be joining us.”
Monroe nodded and shook Gary’s hand. “This is William Foxtail. He’s part Apache, but we just call him Bill.”
“A real-life Indian, eh?” Gary grinned.
Bill nodded and leaned closer. “Stay on my good side. My grandfather taught me to scalp when I was just a boy.”
Gary’s eyes widened, and he took a step back as the boomers laughed.
Owen chuckled. “There won’t be any scalping on my watch.”
A third man stepped up and put his hand in Gary’s. “Name’s Martin Thomas Clarmont. Folks call me Empty—play on my initials.”
“Empty.” Gary nodded. “I’m glad to meet you fellas. I’m pretty excited to see what you do here and learn all about it.”
“Well, the first thing I notice about you is your lack of muscle. We swing hammers in here and bend iron,” Empty said. “I’m guessin’ you’ve never done that.”
“No, I haven’t. But I’m willing to learn. This will be my very first job.”
Empty looked to Owen, who gave a nod. “We all have to start somewhere.”
4
The first of August dawned with a cloudless sky that promised no relief from the sun as the day wore on. Susanna got up at first light and began preparations for the day. There would be four guests checking out to catch the morning train, and she had no way of knowing if her father would be at the hotel in time to see to them.
Even more important, at least in Susanna’s mother’s opinion, was an invitation to a midmorning gathering of the Methodist Women’s Society. The invitation had come on Sunday, when Mrs. Payne stopped Mother on her way out of the church.
Susanna had seen her mother’s apprehension melt away as Mrs. Payne explained she wanted to have Mother and Susanna to luncheon to introduce them to a few of the ladies from church and make them feel properly welcomed. This appealed to Mother, who felt it was a good way to assert her position amongst the community members. Susanna, however, wasn’t at all sure what position she would insist on having.
As soon as Father arrived, Susanna turned the front desk over to him and made her way to the little adobe house, where her mother was already flitting about, trying to figure out what she would wear.
“Where’s the laundry you always bring?” her mother asked.
“I thought I’d wait and do it tomorrow, since we have the gathering today. There were only four rooms rented, and I can clean those up this afternoon.”
As if she hadn’t even heard, Mother looked at Susanna, who had donned a gray and lavender print day dress. The lightweight material was perfect for the heat of the day, but Susanna knew her mother would consider it much too casual. Even if it was designed by Worth.
“You can’t wear that,” Mother said.
“But I’m going to, and that’s all we’ll say about it. I’ve barely come out of mourning and must use what I have at hand. In the future I will arrange for other clothes, but for now this must do.”
Mother turned back to her own wardrobe. “I don’t want to be remiss in my dressing. This might very well be a small town in the middle of nowhere, but these women still read Godey’s, I’m sure. Not only that, but I’m told important railroad officials come here often. It could be that some of these women are no different than I am—temporarily required to live their life in rural repose for the sake of their husband’s duties. We cannot neglect our appearance.”
“I’m a shoe salesman’s widow.” Susanna smiled. “Honestly, Mother, no one will care.”
Her mother gave a huff. “If you won’t dress appropriately, then I must.” She pulled on a snug-fitting mauve jacket and adjusted her lace jabot. “Now for the perfect piece of jewelry.”
Mother was in her element as she prepared for the gathering, but Susanna did her best to temper matters. Especially when Mother pulled out a sapphire and ruby pin. Not only did it not match the mauve, but it was too extravagant.
“Mother, it’s much too informal a gathering to wear an expensive piece of jewelry. Maybe just use Grandmother’s cameo?”
“Bah, they need to know I’m from good breeding and that we have money.”
“But you don’t have money any longer, and frankly, I’m surprised you got away with keeping your jewelry.” Susanna shook her head. “You’d probably do well to keep it hidden.”
“The bank didn’t know about my entire collection, nor shall they.” Mother put the piece aside. “But I suppose you are right. It is too early in the day for such things. Still, I want to make a good impression. Perhaps my pearl brooch.”
“Perhaps you could just be kind and attentive. Show some friendship. Remember, these ladies have husbands who work for a living, and now your husband also works. We are no better than they are and need to accept our place.”
“Susanna, honestly, you do go on and on about the silliest notions. We are merely experiencing a brief situation. Your father was lied to and then robbed. That’s hardly his fault, and we will be fine in just a few months. He’s assured me. I don’t like the circumstances we find ourselves in, but it’s only temporary. Your father is even thinking we might relocate to San Francisco. Apparently, he has a lead on an investment there.” She fastened on the cameo.
Susanna hoped her mother didn’t see her eyes roll heavenward. Why could her parents not understand or accept that this situation was far more permanent? Uncle Harrison had told them so. He’d made it clear that had he not given them the hotel to run, they would have been left on the streets in Topeka. Mother thought him just being unkind, while Father felt confident there was a quick and easy path to solvency and success. But there wasn’t, and Susanna was hard-pressed to get them to understand the truth of the situation.