The Hard Land-Part 9
A story of love and survival
The water tower of Cache Junction came into view as eighteen-year-old Thomas Jolley gazed out the train car window. The forty-eight-mile trip from Ogden had been uneventful except for a crying baby that had only recently fallen asleep. With his face pushed to the glass, he surveyed the wagons waiting beside the depot. He did not recognize any of them.
When the train jerked to a stop, he picked up the straw hat beside him and put it on his head. He stood and grabbed his suitcase, joining the few others getting off the train. Shuffling forward, he stepped from the train onto the platform, once again searching the wagons for his brother Earl.
Wagon after wagon left the yard, and when the last wagon pulled away, Thomas set his suitcase on the rough planks and sighed. Had Earl not remembered he was coming?
Thomas thrust his hand into pockets and counted a few coins, enough to eat, but not enough to buy a return ticket. The young man headed for the lunchroom.
Thomas slipped into the lunchroom where a few passengers and several railroad workers sat at the tables.
A few workers looked up, but the rest sat with their heads bent over the plates in front of them. Most of the workers appeared to eat quickly and leave as soon as they were finished. A few seemed to be in no hurry.
Thomas sat at a vacant table and placed his suitcase near his side.
A waiter crossed the room and stopped at Thomas’s side. “What would you like, sir?”
Thomas felt the coins in his pocket. “I’ll have a bowl of soup.”
The waiter left but returned two minutes later carrying a steaming bowl of soup and placed it in front of Thomas. “Is there anything else?”
“No. That’ll be all.”
“Ten cents,” the waiter said, waiting until Thomas dug two nickels out of his pocket.
Thomas finished his soup and stepped outside. The heat of the afternoon sun beat down on him, and he tugged at his collar. Descending the stairs, he sought relief from the sun. There were no large trees, but he found shade on the east side of the depot.
He gazed eastward across the valley hoping to see Earl’s wagon coming down the narrow road. As he watched, a wagon appeared and then disappeared.
He rubbed his eyes. Were they playing a trick on him?
The wagon shimmered for a moment then was gone again. Was he seeing a mirage? He continued to stare; certain the wagon was real.
After several minutes, the wagon came into plain view, and he watched it pull up behind the depot. Certain it was Earl, Thomas strode forward, stopping when he realized Earl was not in the driver’s seat.
“Hey, Uncle Thomas!” a young boy called. “I bet you’re surprised to see us.”
“I sure am. I thought Earl and Elizabeth were coming to pick me up.” Thomas placed his suitcase in the wagon and climbed onto the seat beside Frank and Henry.
“Earl couldn’t come,” Frank said. “Elizabeth’s not feeling well.”
“Oh,” said Thomas. “Nothing serious, I hope.”
“No, not serious,” Frank said.
Henry tugged on Thomas’s sleeve. “Uncle Thomas, do you want to pet my dog? Her name is patch.” Henry held his dog out to Thomas.
Thomas looked into the pleading eyes of his nephew. He scratched the dog between the ears and spoke to Frank. “How far is it to the farm?”
“It’ll be almost dark by the time we get there. You might as well settle in for the ride.”
Thomas leaned back on the seat as Frank drove the team from the train depot onto the narrow road.
“How are Ma and Pa?” Frank asked.
“They’re good. Pa says he’ll come up and visit you sometime soon, but I don’t think he’ll make the trip without Ma, and she’s not eager to take the train.”
“You mean after all the years I worked for the railroad, she’s still afraid to board a train?”
“She says it isn’t natural for people to travel that fast.”
“It’s a good thing she came west before the railroad was completed, or we’d all be easterners.”
“But she was just a child then,” Thomas said. “She wouldn’t have known the difference.”
Frank laughed. “Your right.”
Thomas watched as Henry’s face turned from him to Frank and back again, and the conversation shifted to the reason Thomas was coming for a visit, the grain harvest.
“It’s hard work,” Frank said but you’ll make good money so you can start saving toward school or a mission.”
“I’d like to make more money, but I haven’t decided what I want to do yet. I attended Weber Stake Academy last year, and I want to continue my schooling, but I don’t know if I can go to the University of Utah. It’d mean moving to Salt Lake City. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“That’d be a big change, for sure.” Frank changed the subject. “You been helping Pa at the store?”
“Yea, but I don’t make much money there. It seems like the store is hardly making enough for Pa to pay the bills. There’s another thing. Martha’s planning on getting married to Richard Clayson. Pa promised Martha he’d hire Richard until they can get on their feet.”
“Has he already started working?”
“Starts today. That’s why I decide to come when Earl suggested it.”
“Have you ever thought about farming?”
‘Nah,” said Thomas. “I’d rather work with my brain.”
“Okay, but I tell you, it’s a good life.” Frank lifted Henry’s hat and tousled his reddish-blond hair. “You like the farm life don’t you, Hank?”
Henry looked up at his father, a grin spreading across his face and lighting up his freckles. “Yep. The farm is the best place in the whole world.”
Thomas chuckled at his nephew’s enthusiasm and sat back in the seat, pulling his pristine straw hat over his face.
They rode on in silence and Thomas drifted off to sleep.
Thomas jerked awake when the wagon bumped over a rock in the road, his eyes darting over the unfamiliar surroundings. When he saw Frank sitting with an arm wrapped around Henry, who was also sleeping, his memory returned.
“If you two are going to sleep, you should make a bed in the wagon box,” Frank said.
“Nah, I’m okay,” Thomas said.
“I’m going to let Henry sleep.” Frank stopped the buckboard and climbed over the seat into the wagon box. After arranging a stack of blankets in the back of the wagon, he reached over the seat, lifting Henry gently and placing him in the makeshift bed. Frank placed Patch next to Henry.
The boy and the dog snuggled into the blankets.
By the time they reached Franklin the sun was setting behind them. “Only about an hour more,” Frank said as they rode down the dusty main street of the small village.
Thomas regarded the few homes, the dry goods store, and the rock church, but a family walking down the street grabbed his attention. He turned his head as the family passed, his gaze zeroing in on a girl he guessed was about his own age. Her bonnet partially obscured her face, but from what little he saw she looked pretty.
He stared until the girl glanced over her shoulder. He jerked his head around so quickly that he almost missed a smile cross her face. Thomas looked straight ahead, horrified that she had seen him staring.
“Amanda Nash,” Frank said.
“What? Who?” Heat crept up Thomas’s neck, turning his face red. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing; that the girl caught him looking or that Frank had noticed.
“You’ll have to get in line if you want to get on her dance card. Every eligible young man in the territory has his eye on her.”
“I was just observing the large family passing by.”
“Sure, you were. I was eighteen once. I know what goes on in a young man’s head.”
“We’ve set up a bed in Henry’s room for you,” Frank said, as he walked around to the back of the wagon and lifted Henry out of the nest of blankets. Frank carried Henry to the house with Thomas and Patch following.
With Henry in his arms, Frank leaned sideways and kissed Anna. “I’ll put him in his bed,” Frank said.
“Okay, I’ll come in and get him in his pajamas in a minute.” She turned to Thomas, “How was your trip?”
“It was all right. A little longer than I thought.”
“It is a long trip from Cache Junction by wagon. Too bad the bridge is out. You could’ve come into Franklin by train.”
Frank returned from putting Henry in bed. “I better take care of the horses,” he said.
“I’ll come with you,” Thomas said.
By the time they put the wagon away and took care of the horses, Anna had already gotten Henry into his pajamas and had supper on the table.
When they had finished eating, Frank said, “Better turn in. Tomorrow’s your first day of work. You don’t want to be late and get on Harry Nash’s bad side.”
“Harry Nash?” Thomas asked.
“Yea, Harry owns the only threshing machine in the county. Earl has arranged for you to travel with the threshing crew, and he will go with you tomorrow. Earl and I will work with the crew when we can, but we have our own farm to run.”
“Was that Harry Nash we saw in Franklin tonight?”
“The one and the same.”
