By J McDonough
She pulled the widow’s veil over her dry eyes and rouged cheeks and boarded the Leadville Express, westbound. The coach was narrow, just seven feet across, with two rows of seats and a seventeen-inch aisle between them. On one side of the car were double seats built for two and on the other side were single seats. Midway down the coach the arraignment was reversed to balance the weight. Mary had hoped that she would be able to sit alone, but all of the single seats were already taken. With a smooth, calculated glance she surveyed her options. The train packed as it was reeked with the stench of unwashed bodies and stale whiskey, a fact that played heavily in her seating choice. She settled for the seat besides a well-dressed dandy who looked fresh from the east and recently bathed.
The seats while covered in plush red velvet were hard and uncomfortable, and Mary shifted her weight trying to make the best of the situation. At least this time, she mused, she was traveling first class. Silver plated oil lamps hung suspended from the ceiling and they lent an elegant appeal to the coach. The woodwork of cherry, walnut and ash glowed from the daily polishing, and Mary felt herself seduced by the luxury, a slow, satisfied smile played briefly across her fleshy face. Her satisfaction cut short when she noticed the group of men clustered in the rear, eyeing her with open speculation. They were firemen and engineers identifiable by their black derby hats, swallowtail coats and striped gray pants. Mary realized in an instant she must stay true to her character, the bereaved widow, and cast her eyes down to her ample lap. Women rarely traveled alone in the west and she needed to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Still, despite her misgivings she was energized by her newfound freedom. November 11, 1881, the day she’d won her independence, no she corrected, the day she took back her life back! She could feel the nickel-plated derringer strapped to her leg. The cool metal as reassuring as a lover’s hand, the pearl handled, .32-caliber lover that had liberated her from Leif’s oppressive grasp. The man beside her twisted his lean frame in the seat, trying in vain to get more comfortable, long legs bent and tangled in the slim confines of the seating. Mary, eager to avoid contact slid her legs out slightly into the aisle to accommodate him.
“Sorry, Ma’am, it’s hard for me to get comfortable on trains.” He glanced at her shyly, his cheeks slightly red.
Mary had a weakness for shy men rare as they were in this part of the world, so she immediately felt herself relax at his nearness. It would be better she supposed to be traveling in the company of a gentleman than to be traveling alone. It would reduce the attention she was likely to encounter, and that she most certainly hoped to avoid. His face was angular and formed harsh angles across his cheeks and across his hawkish nose, but the effect was softened by the generous laugh lines around his deep-set, gray eyes. “Where you headed, young man?”
“I’m headed to Leadville.”
“Oh. Are you going to be a miner?”
“No, Ma’am, I’m going on business.”
“What line of work are in you in?” As an afterthought she extended a gloved hand. Pardon me, my name is Mrs. Matthews.”
“Well, Mrs. Mathews, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Cooper Brown. I’m A Pinkerton, Ma’am and I’m investigating an unfortunate event happened in Canon City.”
A Pinkerton! Mary felt her face drain of blood and her mouth suddenly dry as a dessert. Pinkerton’s were paid detectives who were known to be relentless in tracking down their prey. She hoped he hadn’t noticed her changed affect and she quickly looked out the window to avoid his gaze. She needed to pull herself together. How could he possibly be looking for her? She had concealed the body with stealth, covering it with leaves and branches where it lay in the gully. She’d had to drag it from the carriage across the uneven ground and dumped it there five miles out of town. She shuddered to remember the sound Leif’s body made as it thumped against the ground, his arms flailing out in flight. When he stopped one arm was bent unnaturally across his chest, the other palm up ghastly pale against the rust-red streak of dried blood that ran its length.
“Ma’am, Have I upset you? Cooper learned forward, his expression earnest.
“Uh, my apologies sir, you see my husband was murdered. They never found his killers.” Her bright eyes averted, she lied unrepentant.
“That was in Chicago, a long time ago now.”
The trip through the Royal Gorge was considered the roughest stretch of track west of the Mississippi River with curves like corkscrews. At fifteen to twenty miles an hour the journey through gorge was rough enough to turn a seasoned traveler’s stomach sour. Mary raised her veil high enough to blot the sweat that had formed on her brow, and she licked her parched lips wishing desperately that the trip were over. She glanced furtively in Cooper’s direction and was surprised to see his eye lids closed and his thin lips slightly parted. Sleeping! How could he sleep? He must have a steel constitution. Mary was unnerved, her skin prickling with heat. She had to get off the train earlier than she had expected. She couldn’t bear riding in the train with him so near all the way to Leadville.
She was a woman accustomed to living by her wits, and in her mind she recited the train’s route. Scheduled stops were in Parkdale, Spike Buck, Texas Creek and Cotopaxi. The nearest town with potential was Salida. It was railroad town bustling with money and men. She’d make her way there, and no one knew her, perfect.
“Mrs. Matthews, are you ok, you look a bit pale?”
“Damn”, she thought
“I’m fine, Mr. Brown. Its just this train has me out of sorts.” She smiled weakly.
“Say Mr. Brown, this fella you’re looking for, is he dangerous? I only mean to keep my mind off this trip…”
“Mrs. Matthews, it ain’t a fella I’m looking for. It’s a woman, a soiled dove who killed a man. She has kin in Leadville.”
“Oh My!”
“What would cause a woman to kill a man like that?” Her voice wavered slightly.
“Don’t know that I could say, Mrs., but she killed him all right and I’ll track her down, no worries there.”
“Let the judge sort it out, that ain’t my job.”
“Well, Mr. Brown, I can see you’re a man that gets the job down, that’s for certain.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The train pulled into Salida and the crowds swirled around the station in a mad dance of activity. This was a railroad boomtown and many in the crowd looked like a rowdy bunch, rough and ill mannered. Mary gathered her things all the train can to a halt and extended her hand once more to the soft-spoken detective beside her.
“Thank you, Mr. Brown, for the company and conversation. I hope you find your woman in Leadville. Do be safe now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews. Take care of yourself. Is there someone here to meet you?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Brown, I’m sure to meet up with someone.”
The platform was a jumble of people as she exited the car. A blast of steam sent her skirt billowing out around her ankles. Absently she slipped her hand down the material to straighten it and her fingers lightly brushed against the bulk of the Derringer. She sighed once before heading off into the mass of milling people never once looking behind as the train pulled away from the station.
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