Magnificent Passage (18 page)

F
leecy clouds crowned the snow-capped pinnacles of the nearby Wasatch Mountains, the last range before their descent into the Great Salt Lake Basin.

As the trail wound over the crest of the ridge, Mandy could see a fertile valley below ringed by towering peaks, the tallest still powdered at its summit though the summer had been a warm one.

After interminable days on the prairie, where the landscape was broken only by endless clumps of sagebrush and an occasional trader's shack, the patchwork of farmland lying in the valley below was a welcome sight. It had been years since Mandy had seen farm country—not since her childhood, when she spent summer months visiting grandparents at their home in New York state. She blinked back a sudden wetness at the warm flood of memories; those times were some of her happiest.

But here the farms were laid out in regular rectangular parcels; no rolling hills or curving roadways broke up the terrain. A scattering of low-roofed farmhouses, each with a small garden behind, and cottonwoods, acacia, and a multitude of fruit trees—apple, peach—and vines dotted the landscape. It was easy for her to see why the Saints, the Mormons, were proud of their accomplishments.

Traveling a scant hour more, the group reached the outskirts of the city. Every twist in the road brought something new to look at and a smile to Mandy's face. What a lovely place to live, she reflected enviously. Compared to her stark surroundings at the fort, Salt Lake City seemed a paradise.

Guiding their horses past the jostling line of freight wagons, buggies, and a departing stagecoach, they finally reached the center of town. Mandy discovered most of the buildings were constructed of adobe that had turned a mottled gray in its battle with the elements, giving it the appearance of stone. There were also two-story granite block structures with ornately carved false fronts. The streets were wide, but dusty this time of year.

Mandy could see workmen carrying loads of brick or stirring tubs of mortar as wagons arrived with lumber and kegs of nails. James said the bustle of activity was construction work on the great temple.

A schoolmarm in a brown cotton dress, her hair pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head, and wearing a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles peered at the three weary travelers. Mandy thought how much the woman reminded her of herself just a few short weeks ago. She shuddered at the image. That was a part of her past she was glad to be leaving behind.

They checked into the Salt Lake House, a rambling structure much larger than it appeared from the street.

“What are the Mormons really like?” Mandy asked. “Will we get to meet one?” Every gentile, as all non-Mormons were known, had heard wild tales of the Mormon settlement. It was a forbidden subject in many households.

James chuckled. “There are few others in these parts,
save traders and travelers like ourselves. But right now, I think the first order of business is a nice hot bath.”

“A bath,” she reflected wistfully. “A real bath.”

Hawk watched as his lovely charge continued to smile for what seemed the first time in days, and was glad. “We'll get cleaned up, and I'll buy you both the best steak dinner in Great Salt Lake,” he offered in an unusually expansive moment. When he saw the girl brighten even more, he felt a small stirring in the area of his heart.

James completed the arrangements with the innkeeper, Mandy accepted his arm, and accompanied him up the broad staircase.

“Not exactly the governor's mansion, but not too bad after sleeping on the ground for so long,” James pointed out as he surveyed the tiny room with its narrow iron bed. “You know,” he added somewhat thoughtfully, “I wouldn't have expected a governor's daughter to hold up so well on a difficult trip like this. You're a pretty fair traveling companion, Miss Julia Ashton.” His easy grin and the sparkle in his black eyes indicated the sincerity of the compliment.

“Why, thank you, James.” His compliment pleased her, but she wished she didn't have to accept it under false pretenses.

Just then a slight girl in her mid-teens, accompanied by a young boy, entered the room carrying pitchers of hot water. James checked the window, probably to be sure it was too far down for Mandy to jump, waited patiently until the pair completed their duties, then backed out into the hall. Mandy could hear the sound of the skeleton key turning in the lock, securing the door from the outside.

“Did you hear that, Max?” Jake Wiley whispered through yellowed teeth. “That little filly in there is the governor's daughter!” Wiley's bony finger pointed toward the locked door.

Sgt. Max Gutterman, with Wiley beside him, crouched around the corner and down the hall from the girl's room. Gutterman had seen James Long ride in and had followed him to the hotel, hoping to find a way to even an old score. He smiled to himself. This could be even better than he expected.

“What governor ya suppose it is?” Gutterman queried. He scratched his armpit through a hole in his red-checked shirt.

“How should I know? But any governor's bound to be willin' to pay plenty to get his daughter back.” Wiley's dark eyes gleamed with thoughts of greenbacks so close at hand.

“For once, Wiley, you may have something,” Gutterman concurred. He cocked his head at Wiley and adjusted the patch over his eye. “Besides, I got something to settle with that fellow she's with. You round up Pete and the Mex and bring 'em up the back stairs. Soon as you git back here, we'll pay the little lady a visit.”

She was a pretty little thing, Max thought. Reminded him of his wife, Myra. His mood blackened at the thought. Myra was no good. She'd taken up with a half-breed scout right under his nose. Made him a laughingstock in front of the whole outfit. His buddies had snickered behind his back for weeks before he'd caught her in bed with the man.

He'd loved Myra, would have done anything to please her. But nothing he did was ever enough. The best thing to come out of their marriage was Sarah. Sarah was a beautiful
little girl, just like her mother, with bright green eyes and long brown hair. But that slut Myra let Sarah slip off one day when she should have been watching her. They searched for hours before they found her, face down in the pond. Two weeks later Max had found Myra in bed with the half-breed. He shot them both to death on the spot.

This girl looked a lot like Myra, all right, except smaller, and maybe even prettier. Fancy a man like himself meeting up with the governor's daughter.

Instead of being disheartened by James's lack of trust, Mandy viewed the locked door with a feeling of security. She stripped off her grimy garments, pinned her thick hair atop her head, and climbed into the tub. As she sank down, tiny lavender-scented soap bubbles floated up and tickled her nose. She relaxed a few minutes, then slipped beneath the surface to cleanse her hair. When she popped up, she felt refreshed from head to foot.

All too soon the water began to cool. Mandy sighed and resigned herself to getting out, wishing she didn't have to wear another ragged dress but thankful it was clean. She'd washed it yesterday in anticipation of their arrival.

Just as she finished combing out her damp hair, she heard a light knock at the door. Quickly she donned her faded dress and gave James permission to enter. The tall man sauntered in carrying a stack of boxes so high they almost blocked his view. With a smile, he dropped them on the bed, several lids falling off to expose lace and frills.

With a squeal of delight, Mandy dug into the pile. There were stockings, lacy drawers, petticoats, and dresses: lovely
muslins, one of palest pink trimmed with yards of ivory lace, and another—a buttercup yellow with tiny embroidered flowers—that made her yearn to discard the tattered dress she wore. One box contained a traveling suit of navy linen, the jacket trimmed with a white collar and cuffs, and the skirt dipping stylishly to a point in both the front and back. The last box held a fashionably low-cut dinner gown of gleaming gold silk. Beads glittered on the bodice and were scattered like jewels about the skirt.

“James, they're all wonderful—the loveliest dresses I've ever seen—I mean . . . ” She hoped he didn't catch her slip, then felt her cheeks redden as she held up a pair of dainty embroidered drawers.

“You shouldn't have, James.” Leaning over, she kissed him shyly on the cheek, still unable to believe her good fortune.

“I didn't,” he admitted somewhat regretfully. “Hawk did. It seems one of the shops had a special order from a woman about your size, but the lady left town in a bit of a hurry—without the clothes. Hawk thought you might enjoy them. But I appreciate the kiss, anyway,” he added teasingly.

“Hawk?” she repeated, unable to comprehend the fact. “But he couldn't . . . He wouldn't . . . ”

“But I'm afraid he did. I only wish I'd thought of it first.” It was an honest reply, spoken with what sounded like a tinge of regret.

“Where is he? I'd like to thank him.”

“He's gone to meet with Brigham Young. He'll be here in time for that dinner he promised. You just rest for a while. I'll be back after you change.” Excusing himself, he
headed for the door, once more securing it against her possible escape.

But escape was the furthest thing from Mandy's mind. Travis Langley had been thinking of her, seeing to her needs, caring about her. The thought made her head reel. If only she could stop pretending to be someone else and tell him the truth.

Thank God the charade would soon be over. Tomorrow they would leave on the westbound stage for Virginia City, Hawk and James apparently satisfied that her fiancé had not followed this far. It would be a bumpy, miserable five-day ride across a dry, dusty desert, but still the fastest way to travel the five hundred miles of desolate country ahead. James had explained that Lady Ann would be trailed behind a series of coaches at a much slower pace until reaching Sacramento City. James said he and Hawk each kept a horse in Salt Lake as well as in California.

The trio would take a brief rest in Virginia City, then travel on to Reno, a new settlement founded at the farthermost easterly stop of the Central Pacific Railroad. From there it would be only a short half day's journey into Sacramento City. In less than a week, Mandy calculated, she could shed her Julia role and be herself again.