Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (2 page)

“Why did you ever convince me to come to this barren wasteland?” Gabriel asked Matthew. He arched his long back, stretching muscles cramped from the journey. A faint breeze ruffled his ebony hair.

“Ronan told me the first impression of Butte is the worst. You’ll love it here!” Matthew said as he moved into the waiting crowd. His shorter stature allowed him to navigate the mingling crowd with nimble grace.

“Ronan must be blind,” Gabriel muttered as he glanced around, trying to locate a porter. He followed Matthew’s serpentine pattern through the people milling about, keeping Matthew’s tan-colored bowler hat in sight. “Matthew, do you see him?”

“Not yet.”

“I just hope he was able to secure us a place to stay,” Gabriel said.

“At least our trunks made it just fine,” Matthew said as he and Gabriel walked off toward their luggage stacked near the redbrick wall of the platform under a heavy awning. Gabriel peered into a nearby door and saw a large, well-lit waiting area filled with sturdy benches.

“I hope we don’t have to spend much time waiting in there,” Gabriel said.

“We won’t. Ronan’ll be here soon. You’ll see,” Matthew said, his pale blue eyes lit with excitement. He picked up a discarded newspaper and fanned himself as he leaned against the wall. “I never thought it would be so hot high in the mountains.”

“I meet you in a hotel in Chicago, and, the next thing I know, you’re dragging me into this godforsaken part of the country,” Gabriel said. “I should have insisted we travel to San Francisco.” He hailed an approaching porter for help and only mustered a half smile as the middle-aged man neared.

“Welcome to Butte, America!” The porter grunted as he helped Matthew and Gabriel lift their heavy trunks onto his carriage. His black suspenders stretched taut over his protruding potbelly, and he moved with an offbeat gait.

“You seem out of sorts, young man,” the porter said Gabriel’s way. He spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the boardwalk, leaving a chickareed-colored splat on the ground. “Where’re ye headed?”

“I think downtown,” Gabriel replied after a long pause.

“Well, seeing as you’re in downtown, you might want to rethink that,” the porter replied with a chuckle. They moved through the waiting room and out to the front of the station into the bright sunlight. “In this city, all good places are up.” He pointed toward the hill, causing Gabriel to turn and stare at the steep streets. They seemed to go up and up for as far as the eye could see.

“This is an upside-down kind of place, young man. Uptown is our downtown.” The porter chuckled. He glanced at Gabriel. “Now, if you’ve come here for mining, I fear you’ll find it difficult work for someone so tall. Although the Swedes seem able to adjust just fine.” He spat again, barely missing Gabriel’s shoe.

Gabriel scowled at the man. “We’re newly arrived and uncertain where to go. A friend was to meet us, but he hasn’t arrived. We are undecided if we should wait for him here or find a place to board for the night.”

“I’d find a place to board. If he’s on his shift, he’s hours yet ’til he’s free. Leave his name with me, and, if he comes looking for you, I’ll send him in the right direction,” the porter said. Gabriel glanced toward Matthew to find him nodding in agreement. “Now, if you was to ask me, I’d recommend a few nights at a hotel near the train depot. Take the time to find where you’ll be working and then find lodging near your mine. It’s best to live near where you work. The days are long, and the weather can be vicious.”

Gabriel grunted as he looked around at the early September sunshine.

“You look doubtful now, son. But you’ll know what I mean come November. If you last that long.” The porter chuckled once more to himself. “Now, am I to take this to the Northwestern Hotel?”

“Is it affordable?”

“Not so much as a boardinghouse, but it’s better than a hotel in Uptown. At the McDermott, you’d pay a right pretty penny.”

“We are much obliged for your help, sir,” Gabriel said.

“You’re welcome, son. My name’s Jedediah Maloney. Jed to my friends. You seem like a good-enough sort. I see your type all the time,” he said. “As for him, he’s all starry-eyed now. Just wait ’til he has to go down the cage the first time.” He shook his head ruefully at Matthew’s wide-eyed wonder.

They traveled to the nearby hotel with Gabriel helping to push the heavy cart. Gabriel grunted a few times as his side of the cart became lodged in a rut in the unpaved road. He had to exert extra force to propel the cart forward rather than heave its contents to one side and risk the trunks tumbling into the street. A raised boardwalk lined each side of the street, with carts, horses and electric streetcars vying for space. Spindly electric poles sprouted up in front of every other building, with electrical wires connected to each structure. A light strung from sturdy electrical wires hung at every intersection. Gabriel thought the lampposts of Boston were more practical but soon focused on pushing the cart to the nearby hotel.

After obtaining rooms for the night at the three-story Northwestern Hotel, Gabriel helped Jedediah carry the heavy trunks to his room on the second floor. The smells from the kitchen below wafted up to tempt Gabriel as he studied his room. It was large enough for a single-paned window, a cot pushed into the far corner across from the door and a bureau. A green-and-white ceramic pitcher and chipped basin sat on the bureau. After stacking the trunks at the base of his bed, Gabriel collapsed onto it, thankful to be able to lie flat after that train ride. He rolled over to riffle through a small traveling case to extract a letter from Clarissa, the woman he loved who had remained in Boston. Throughout the journey he had found letters from her hidden in his luggage, easing the ache of their separation. He caressed her handwriting, imagining her penning these positive, loving letters in the days before his departure.

“Gabe!” Matthew said as he opened Gabriel’s door. “Good God, man, are you reading her letters again?” At Gabriel’s silence, Matthew sighed with frustration. “I say we wash up and then explore this town.”

“I say any exploration can wait for tomorrow.”

“You have no idea what you’ll have here until you’ve experienced some of this city.”

Gabriel smiled at his friend’s optimism. “Let me wash up, and then we’ll see what we find.”

After a quick bath in a bathing room down the hall and a change into fresh clothes, Gabriel wandered downstairs to wait for Matthew. His boot heels sounded on the polished wooden floors as he peered into the doors off the lobby. One led to private living quarters for the owner, while another led to the saloon and restaurant. Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the tall front windows, limning the bare brick walls. A large oak desk greeted guests at the main double-door entrance.

Gabriel moved toward the unlit fireplace to sit in a wingback chair but paused as he saw Jedediah arriving.

“Hello, Jedediah,” Gabriel said as Jed entered with a short brown-haired, brown-eyed man who wore a light-gray, faded three-piece suit. A tarnished pocket watch chain dangled from his waistcoat pocket.

“Gabriel, just the young man I was looking for. I found him searching for a friend who had arrived on the westbound train,” Jedediah said, his right cheek protruding like a beaver’s. He turned to look for a spittoon and grimaced when he saw none in sight.

“Are you Ronan O’Bara?” Gabriel asked the stocky man with a thick beard.

“The one and only. I’m looking for Matthew Donovan.”

“You’re in the right place.” Gabriel nodded to Jedediah as he left.

“Ronan!” Matthew said as he came down the stairs. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”

“Better now that I’ve found you. I was working and couldn’t meet your train when it arrived. How was your journey?” he asked as he and Matthew shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulders.

“Long,” Gabriel answered.

“How are things here in Butte, Ronan?” Matthew asked.

“Better than in other mining towns. The work is steady, and the pay is good,” Ronan said. His deep brown eyes studied Gabriel.

“Ronan, this is Gabriel McLeod, a friend I made in Chicago.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gabriel,” Ronan said. He motioned for them to leave the hotel.

“Is it always this light so late?” Gabriel asked.

“Enjoy these days now while you can. Winter can seem endless. And whatever light you have now will be darkness come January,” Ronan said. He glanced back at the hotel. “How long are you staying here?”

“We did not commit to any length of time,” Gabriel said.

“Good. I have a place for you up at the Mullin House in Centerville, Matthew,” Ronan said.

“What about Gabriel?” Matthew asked.

“I didn’t know about him, but I can see if there is a room available. It’s full of miners. Most of us work at the Mountain Con.” Ronan paused for a moment as he studied Gabriel. “Mountain Consolidated Mine. Do you need a job too?”

“No. No, I am a cabinetmaker. I will look for other work.”

“You shouldn’t have any difficulty. Butte is booming with construction projects. And, if you have skills, you’ll be wanted,” Ronan said with a smile.

“That is good to hear,” Gabriel said trying not to pant from the thin mountain air as they slowly climbed Main Street toward Uptown. The main thoroughfare of Butte was lined with brick buildings. Painted signs on the sides of the businesses proclaimed the benefits of shopping at this grocer or sipping that brewer’s beer. As they crossed Galena Street, the air became redolent with the smell of fried noodles.

“Is there a Chinatown in Butte?” Gabriel asked.

“You bet,” said Ronan. “It’s the place to get your clothes laundered cheap.”

“I never would have thought they’d be here, so far away from civilization,” Gabriel said as they continued their walk up the hill into the central business district.

“Well, they’re good businessmen, and this is a great place to make money. Even if you’re not into mining,” Ronan said with a smile. “And this
is
civilization, Montana style. High in the mountains.”

Gabriel nodded, gasping a little as they made toward their destination. As an electric streetcar roared past them, he glared at Ronan. “Any reason we aren’t in a streetcar?” Gabriel paused to look around the valley below him and then glance up the steep street.

Ronan eyed him. “You should accustom yourself to the altitude. It’s a bit different when you’re a mile high, isn’t it?” He grinned at them. “Besides, I like being outside.”

“Even though you can’t see the mountains, and it stinks like rotten eggs?” Gabriel asked.

“The smell means the mines are running well,” Ronan said. “And we just have to hope a good breeze comes along to push it out. The air’s been a bit still the past few days.”

“What else is there in Butte besides mining?” Matthew asked.

Ronan laughed. “Butte
is
mining, and hopefully the veins never run dry. And if the miners are happy and well paid, then the rest of the town prospers.”

Gabriel grunted his understanding as they continued their climb.

“Where’re we headed, Ronan?” Matthew asked.

“Let’s go to the Curtis Music Hall for some songs and dancing. If we become bored, we can always go to one of the nearby saloons.”

“What time does it close?” Gabriel asked.

“Nothing closes in this town, Gabriel,” Ronan said. “You’ll learn that after a while. Especially a bar.”

“You mean I could wander in at five in the morning?” Gabriel asked and shook his head in disbelief at Ronan’s nod.

“Yes, and get a pint with your eggs,” Ronan said with a grin.

“This is my kind of town!” Matthew exclaimed as they entered the roaring crowd at the music hall.

***

WITHIN A WEEK, Gabriel knew his way about town. He wandered out of the Mullin House. He looked along Main Street in Centerville for a few moments and decided to walk up the hill toward Walkerville rather than take a streetcar. As he acclimated to the thin mountain air, he passed the whitewashed St. Lawrence O’Toole Catholic Church. He crested the hill and glanced down to the small hamlet of Walkerville, a thriving independent town bustling with saloons, boardinghouses, grocers and mines.

He turned away from Walkerville to study Butte below him. A gusty breeze blew the pervasive soot and smoke from the valley allowing him a good view of the city. His perusal took in numerous smokestacks and mine head frames on the hill, sprouting out of the earth like quills on a porcupine. The bare hills were no match for the wind and small dust funnels which formed in places.

He looked toward the left and saw the seven distinctive smokestacks of the Anaconda Company’s Neversweat Mine pumping ash into the sky. It was one of the 400 mines in Butte employing over 13,000 men. Gabriel shook his head in wonder at the number of men burrowing underground as he stood enjoying the sunny day.

His glance continued from the barren backbone of Butte toward the Uptown area and its imposing brick buildings. He marveled that the fine buildings sat juxtaposed to the city’s slum known as the Cabbage Patch and were separated by a mere block or two from the red light district. The steam from a train’s engine caught his eye as it slowly made its way down the mountain pass toward Butte, and he imagined the emotions the travelers felt upon their first view of the city. The overwhelming palette was somber. Gray and black soot spilled from tall smokestacks. Brown tailings surrounded the buildings and mines. Gabriel squinted in an attempt to see the distant valley, but thick clouds of pollution obscured it.

“What an amazing city,” Gabriel murmured.

He began the long walk down Main Street toward the Uptown part of Butte, passing the church and his boardinghouse. Although he could have eaten at any number of saloons and cafés in or near Centerville, Gabriel wanted to eat lunch at a restaurant Ronan had mentioned recently. He continued his descent into Uptown Butte, walking past the Miner’s Union Hall and crossed Granite Street. The Hennessy Building filled half a city block, its red brick gleaming in the sunlight. A never-ending stream of customers entered and exited its large mahogany doors. After crossing Broadway and foregoing the bustling M&M saloon, he turned right onto Park Street.