Authors: Jo Goodman
"How do we get down there?" she asked.
"Well, we can do what old Ben Juggler did..."
"I'm not jumping."
"Then, we keep on walking. We'll take the tracks to their lowest point, then cut back through the woods. It's not as steep an incline as it seems. Which is why Juggler finally settled on a gun to end it." He grinned. "Jumpin' here didn't do the trick."
She stared after him as he walked away. "You're making that up."
He raised his right hand. "Swear to God."
Rennie couldn't see, but she suspected he was still grinning. She picked up Albion's reins and fell into step behind him.
* * *
It was one of those things that shouldn't have happened, an outcome for which neither one was prepared. After giving their horses a rest along the track route, they shifted the supplies back to the packhorse and mounted their own. Neither Albion nor Zilly found the ground they had to cover any more difficult than anything that had come before. Looking up at Juggler's Jump from below, Rennie could see that Jarret was right about the mountain's incline. It only became steep, and virtually impossible to ascend or descend, where it rose vertically to support the tracks.
The terrain they covered now seemed a gentle slope in comparison to the view from above. She thought later that it might have been the ease with which they were moving, or a touch of unwarranted confidence that they had finally reached a milepost on their journey, that made them careless.
Rennie didn't see the rabbit that charged under Albion's hooves until her horse reared. She managed to hold her seat, but Albion faltered on the landing and nearly went down. His attention caught by what was happening over his shoulder, Jarret wasn't prepared for Zilly's misstep. He tried to right himself in the saddle, grabbing the pommel, but the tingling in his hand prevented him from having a good touch. His panic was only momentary, yet Zilly felt it. She stomped restlessly, dislodged some rock, and began sliding.
Jarret regained some control by leaning forward in the saddle and letting Zilly do what she did best. The mare's legs scrambled for purchase, then charged ahead. It was a wild ride to the bottom, and Jarret thought for a moment he and Zilly were both going to make it safely. That was until he saw the fallen ponderosa. It lay on a slant, the bough end caught in the crux of another tree, barring his route like a gate four feet off the ground. He tried to use his knees and legs to redirect the mare's path, but she was too frantic to feel his movements and understand them. Jarret was helpless to stop Zilly from making the jump, and with no strength now in his right arm he couldn't hold on. He lost his seat going up, and unlike Zilly, never cleared the gate.
Rennie was more than halfway to reaching Jarret when she saw him tumble. She saw the fallen pine, realized Zilly was going to make the leap, but never thought it would be the thing to unseat Jarret. He came away from his mount as if the saddle and reins had suddenly been greased.
By the time she reached him Zilly had calmed and wandered back to where Jarret lay. The mare leaned her head over the tree and tried to nudge Jarret awake. Rennie knelt at Jarret's side and pushed Zilly's nose forcefully out of the way. The mare took the direction and meandered away.
His breathing was shallow but even, and Rennie found his pulse easily. She shook him gently several times, saying his name. When he didn't respond she took off her gloves and removed his hat. Her fingers delved into his hair as she carefully felt for bumps or breaks in his skin. She found a large goose egg just behind his right ear. The little bit of blood didn't worry her; the size of the swelling did. At that moment she would have given everything she owned for a bit of her sister Maggie's healing knowledge. It seemed to Rennie that being an engineer made her a fish out of water everywhere but in the Worth building—and lately even there.
The wreckage they were trying to reach was still a good distance from where they were, though now the way was mostly flat. Rennie knew she couldn't lift Jarret, and neither could she leave him where he lay. She considered making camp right there, but Jay Mac's private car kept coming to her as a better alternative.
After assuring herself that Jarret had no other obvious injuries, Rennie rolled him carefully onto a blanket and covered him with others. Working swiftly, she built a small fire that would keep some of the chill at bay. She tethered Zilly and the packhorse and mounted Albion. The mare covered the ground quickly to the site of the wreckage.
Rennie knew she was not going to find her father inside his private car, so she did not steel herself before entering. She wasn't prepared for the rush of emotion any more than she was ready for an environment gone slightly awry. Both of them made her gasp.
Rennie held on to the door to maintain her balance. The car was more than a few degrees off level, held from tipping over by the row of sturdy ponderosas. Everything in the car that wasn't secured had fallen to one side. The things that were secured, like the bed and dining table, were just enough at an angle to be disorienting. Rennie found herself tilting her head in an effort to diminish the dizzying sensation.
There was nothing so simple she could do about the rush of emotion. This was her father's place, and she had never been in it save in his presence. It didn't seem it should
exist
outside his presence. Had the car been perfectly level, she would have still felt the nauseating disorientation.
Tears blinded her briefly, and when she lifted one hand to brush them away she slid a little on the uneven floor. She kept herself upright by holding on to the door and bracing her other hand against a secured end table. Making her way across the length of the car was like walking on a ship permanently listing from the windward side.
The Franklin-style heating stove was the purpose of her trip. It was cast at the same odd angle as everything else, but when she checked its hinges and seams everything seemed to be in order. The vent pipe was intact, and Rennie could see no reason for not using it. It would provide Jarret with the warmest night he'd had since leaving Echo Falls.
Now she only had to get him to it.
The caboose had the things she needed. Because it was on its side she had to go through a broken side window and drop in. She brushed snow off the storage chest and found an ax, hammer, nails, and rope. They were the tools she needed immediately. She also removed a crowbar and four wrenches with varying handle lengths and different size box ends. Her efforts at pushing open either end door from the inside proved useless. Snow blocked both exits, and the hinges were on the outside. After tossing all the tools she needed through the window, Rennie dragged the storage bench under it, stood on it, and hauled herself through the opening.
Once on the outside she set about clearing one of the doors of snow and ice. Rennie used the hammer to tap out the hinge pins and remove it altogether, then she took off the door handle. She drove nails into the door's top rail so that half their length was exposed and attached the rope ends securely. She pulled on the rope handle, and with a little effort the door glided across the snow.
"Not bad for a sled and stretcher," she said to herself. Rennie slung the rope around the pommel of her saddle, making certain there was enough length to keep the door from chipping at Albion's fetlocks. She mounted and urged the mare forward, using her legs to guide the horse while her hands controlled the slack on the sled. After a little trial and error, Rennie was able to keep the door from slipping too much to either side.
By her own estimation she hadn't been gone much above thirty minutes. Jarret was still unconscious. Rennie touched his forehead with the back of her hand, and then his chest. He had lost only a little body heat, and she grew more confident that her worst fears would not come to pass.
Rennie used the blankets like a ramp to roll Jarret onto the sled. She secured him with ropes from their own supplies. Surveying her handiwork she was struck by the fact he was trussed up like Gulliver. "Wait until you wake up in the private car," she told him. "You'll think you've arrived in some fiendish version of Lilliput."
She sighed when he didn't answer her. "All right, Zilly," she said, untethering the mare. "It's your turn to pull." Grabbing the mare's cheek strap, she held Zilly's head steady and gave her a stern look. Zilly didn't move. It wasn't the technique Jarret used to calm the skittish mare, but it worked for Rennie. "As long as we understand each other," she said.
Getting Jarret back to the car was not the hardest part of the task that Rennie faced. She had to get him inside. Rennie judged the hours of daylight left and decided that she could not take the time to build another fire. She made certain Jarret was bundled and sheltered from the wind, then gathered her tools and went back to the caboose.
After examining the exposed wheels on the caboose, she chose to remove the one least damaged by the crash. The groove that had held the track was still smoothly curved, not flattened as it might have been. If the brakeman had had any warning of what was going to happen, there would have been an effort to apply the handbrakes. A heavy hand would have resulted in flattened wheels, but probably not altered the fate of the passengers. Now the smooth wheel groove would help save Jarret's life.
It took more in the way of brute strength than cleverness to accomplish the task. What Rennie wasn't able to achieve with the long-handled iron wrenches, she was finally able to do with the crowbar. When the wheel was off she rolled it over to the private car.
It was too difficult to work in her heavy coat, and her efforts had already overheated her. Rennie took it off and laid it over Jarret. Standing on the slanted balcony at one end of the car, Rennie reached as high as she was able and drove a spike halfway into the wall just above the door. The wheel was heavy, but not as awkward to lift as Jarret would have been. Still, Rennie knew she had one, possibly two, chances to thread its center hole with the spike. She probably wouldn't have the strength to lift it after that. It didn't help her confidence when she considered how much trouble she had threading a needle.
She hoisted the metal wheel in her gloved hands, braced it on the balcony railing for a moment, then raised it over her head. She felt the spike catch the hole, then felt the wheel slip. It flashed through her mind that she was not very good at hanging pictures either. The wire never seemed to catch the nail. Swearing sometimes helped.
Rennie heaved again, turning the air blue with her colorfully vulgar and descriptive language. This time the spike held the wheel. It was left to her to find a nut that would keep the wheel from spinning off the spike as it turned. There was nothing that fit exactly right, but Rennie improvised by using a nut that was slightly larger than the spike and making it tight with small wedged-shaped pieces of wood that acted as shims. Tentatively she spun the wheel. It stayed firmly in place.
A double pulley system would have been better, she thought, but her single one would have to do.
Rennie arranged Jarret in a sling of blankets and rope; then she ran the length of rope over the groove in the wheel and fastened the end to Zilly's saddle. She opened the door to the car so that it would be easy to swing Jarret inside once Zilly started to walk forward. The problem was getting Zilly to move while Rennie guided Jarret's sling.
Rennie solved it by tossing a few stones at Zilly's hindquarters. Jarret was dragged toward the car the moment the mare lurched forward. Rennie steadied the sling and encouraged Zilly to keep moving. Jarret bumped against the balcony's iron steps. Rennie protected his head. The wheel above her groaned as Jarret was lifted off the ground. Zilly moved ahead. Jarret was jerked higher, and this time Rennie was able to get her arms under him, cradling his unconscious form. She called to the mare again, and now Jarret was lifted as high as her waist. Rennie eased him toward the open door and jerked on the taut rope, bringing Zilly back.
It took a few more minutes of alternately pleading with the horse and cursing her for Rennie to get Jarret lowered to the floor of the car. When he was down she cut the sling free.
Rennie now had him inside, but she didn't have him warm. As soon as she tethered Zilly she cut wood for the stove and built a fire. Once she boarded two shattered windows with strips of wood from the caboose, the car began to heat. Rennie was of no mind to bring Jarret to the bed. She brought the bed to him, laying out the mattress in the same direction as the slope in the floor so that he couldn't roll and hurt himself. After untying the knots that secured him, Rennie rolled Jarret carefully onto the mattress.
It took all her emotional strength not to simply collapse beside him.
Making him as comfortable as she could, Rennie then took care of the horses, giving special attention to Zilly, who was lathered from the labor. Rennie carried in their supplies, stacking them against one wall. She was just finishing with the last of them when the sun went down. Twilight didn't last long. Rennie found two oil lamps minus their glass globes. They required a level place to rest, so she remounted a shelf on the wall. The effect was quite peculiar. The shelf was parallel to the ground beneath the car, but askew of everything else in the room.
Rennie laid the hammer aside and lighted the lamps. She worked for another two hours, clearing broken glass and damaged, unusable items. She became adept at walking the length and breadth of the car without faltering, though she imagined she looked rather less attractive than a mountain goat. Finally, because she was too tired to walk to the nearby stream, she melted snow for drinking water and lay down beside Jarret when she had her fill.