Alyse James
Alyse and her uncles stepped from the train onto the wooden railway platform outside the Denver station. Underneath her sturdy boots, the rigid boards felt as though they moved with the familiar motion of the train.
A sensory illusion.
Alyse grinned and looked up at her uncles from beneath her bowler hat.
Bernard pointed toward the station. “Bay, wait beside the door with Alyse. I’ll find our trunks.” Bernard handed his brother his small bag and disappeared into the crowd along the platform.
Bayard took Alyse’s arm and steered her to an empty place on the side of the building. “Did Amylia tell how we are to find her?”
Alyse nodded then became distracted by the crowd. A woman rushed away from the train, three children in tow, like a string of ducklings. A porter, pulling a low-wheeled cart, followed a lanky gentleman wearing a tall hat. Loud laughter behind her caused her to turn. At the corner of the station, several men with gun belts strapped to their hips and curved brim hats discussed last night’s entertainment.
She pulled her attention from the loud men and concentrated on her uncle. “She showed me the house where she lived. There’s a livery near her home where several of her horses are boarded.”
Behind her brother, a round man in a vest held the door for an elderly woman, whose overskirt and collar were trimmed with bright red pleated ruffles.
Too many people and distractions.
The clamor along the platform and the throng of anxious people assailed her senses. She closed her eyes for a moment to shut out the cacophony, then opened them and kept her gaze on Bayard’s calm, familiar face. “Amy suggests we rent a wagon from the stable and use two of her horses for the trip to her ranch.”
Bayard nodded, as he stood on his toes and looked down the platform. “Bern’s coming.”
A dark-skinned porter in a Union Pacific uniform pushed their luggage cart and followed Bernard.
Bernard looked from Bay to Alyse. “Where to?”
“Amy suggests we find transportation to the livery near her house on Pence Street.” Alyse looked over her shoulder at the line of horse-drawn vehicles waiting for fares along the street.
“We’ll need a wagon for the trunks,” Bay commented.
“I see one.” Bernard slipped around the gregarious men on the corner and hurried down the ramp toward the street.
“This way, then.” Bayard nodded to the porter and took Alyse’s elbow.
“I want to see the house,” Alyse commented as Bayard helped her to the high buckboard seat.
After Bernard tipped the porter, he and Bayard climbed in the back and sat on their trunks.
The driver looked over his shoulder. “Where to, gentlemen?”
“The livery stable on Pence Street and Park Avenue,” Alyse directed the driver. “Do you know it?”
The driver nodded, made a clicking sound with his tongue and directed the team away from the line of vehicles.
They encountered a considerable amount of construction and traffic along the main thoroughfare. Wagons with lumber, and groups of horsemen, slowed their progress.
Alyse found her attention returning time and again to the mountains. They had passed through mountains during their train ride west, but nothing compared to these.
Before long, the driver turned onto a diagonal street, and pulled to a stop beside the livery a few blocks down.
Bernard leaned forward from the back and paid the fare while Bayard jumped down to help Alyse descend from the seat.
Her uncles stacked their trunks next to the building, and Alyse stepped inside to speak with the stable master.
The stableman greeted her as an old friend. “This is a surprise, Mrs. Harris. I thought you’d left town with your husband.” He paused and stared as Bay and Bern walked into the stable yard and stopped behind Alyse.
“I—um. Yes,” Alyse improvised. “My husband traveled to the ranch, but I stayed to meet my uncles at the train.” She paused, unsure how to proceed with introductions. Amy would have known the man’s name.
The man put out his hand to Bayard. “Nice to meet you. I'm Clay Matthews.”
“Bayard James, Mr. Matthews, and this is my brother Bernard.”
“Call me Clay.” He shook Bernard’s hand then stepped back and turned his attention to Alyse.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Harris? Are you ready to take your horses back to the ranch?”
“Only two.” Alyse smiled and fidgeted with her skirt. Pretending to be Amy caused her stomach to knot. “And a buckboard for the luggage.”
“That won't be a problem. You'll want your usual provisions for a two-day trip?”
“Yes, please.” She pointed up the street. “We’re going to check on something at the house. We shouldn’t be long.”
“I’ll have the wagon tacked up by the time you get back.” The stableman turned and pointed toward two boys who watched across the yard. “Hitch the Harris’ brown and the dappled to the small wagon.”
Alyse turned and paced out of the yard and onto the street. “We’ll need to stop at the general store on the way out of town for items the livery may not provide,” she reminded her uncles.
At the end of the first block, Alyse stopped. “Wait a moment. I need to catch my breath.”
Bayard put his hands on his knees and nodded.
Bernard lifted his bowler and ran his sleeve over his bald head. “It’s like there’s no air.”
Alyse nodded “It’s very thin.” A brief rest restored her, but they walked slower along the second block. She hadn’t noticed while sitting on the train, but even a short walk proved the difference in the air.
By the time they stood in front of the red brick house with the 'H' on the door, Alyse’s breath was labored and her heart beat fast.
Broken lumber and debris leaned against the side of the house. The recently rebuilt porch cover had yet to be painted.
Alyse pointed to the second-floor window. “Amy stood in the room upstairs when we twyned.”
I saw the damage from inside, through Amy’s eyes.
“Hello,” a voice called from behind them.
Alyse turned and watched a man cross the street.
He must be a neighbor. Oh Goddess, he’ll know I’m not Amy.
Alyse gripped her skirt with both hands and smiled a welcome.
The thin, balding man appeared surprised, but smiled and continued into the yard. “Miss Amy, I thought you left with Jason.” The man looked from Alyse to the twins beside her and raised his eyebrow.
Make it a nosy neighbor.
She cleared her throat. “I did, but Jason dropped me off at a friend's house near the station. My uncles from Boston were due in today. I wanted to show them the new porch before we left for the ranch.” Alyse smiled what she hoped was a confident expression. After days on a train, she knew she looked as bedraggled as she felt.
The neighbor turned to Bayard and put out an open hand. “Albert Fielding.”
“Hello, Mr. Fielding. I’m Bayard James. This is my brother, Bernard.”
“Mr. Fielding.” Bernard and the neighbor shook hands.
“I had cousins that were twins. Never could tell them apart.” Mr. Fielding chuckled. “Oh say, there was a federal marshal here just yesterday looking for your husband.”
“Really?” Alyse raised her eyebrow. “Did he say what for?”
“No, not really.” Mr. Fielding rubbed his chin. “Just wanted to ask Jason a few questions. I told him you were at the ranch.”
Alyse nodded. “Perhaps I will see him tomorrow, then.”
“I expect you will, if he headed that way.” The neighbor took a step back. “Well, I’ve got to get back to my own projects now. Nice meeting you, gentlemen.”
In the middle of the street, the neighbor turned back. “Oh, before I forget, tell Jason I have the painters coming tomorrow to paint the porch.” He waved and continued toward his house.
Alyse raised her hand. “All right, Mr. Fielding. I’ll let him know.”
Bayard waved as well. “These westerners are kindly folk.”
“Only because they think she’s Amylia.” Bernard countered.
“I'm not use to pretending to be someone else,” Alyse confessed as they started back to the stable.
“There’s nothing to it, really. People believe their eyes before anything else,” Bay told Alyse as they walked. “These people don’t even know your sister has a twin. It’s much harder to convince people who suspect duplicity.”
Alyse laughed. “You sound like you have plenty of experience tricking people.”
The wagon was ready when they arrived. Alyse thanked Clay for loading their trunks onto the wagon.
“Have a safe trip, Mrs. Harris,” Clay called as Bernard guided the team away from the livery.
Bayard stayed with the wagon while Alyse and Bernard hurried into the mercantile for supplies. They purchased a pot for heating water, a basket of fried chicken, several strips of salted beef and a bundle of firewood at the recommendation of the clerk. Firewood, the clerk explained, was difficult to come by heading east.
They decided to get as far as they could while the sun lasted. At sunset, they would camp and get an early start in the morning. With the directions embedded firmly in Alyse's mind, they headed east out of town toward the ranch and her sister.