Chapter 7 
Chapter 7 Standing on a small rise with Timothy, Peg sleeping at her feet in the noonday heat, Tara could see over the huge crowd of local settlers, miners, Crow Indians, and railroad workers waiting for the moment the golden spike connected the entire country. “Who could have thought all those politicians would want to come way out to Montana to pound a piece of iron?” she said. “There must be hundreds of ’em.” She almost felt guilty leaving everyone else back at the ranch on this historic day. But Pa, with his list of chores, insisted he didn’t want to come. Cookie refused, saying his rheumatism was acting up, but he managed a right proper feast to send them on their way.
Cookie had outdone the Independence Day feast, even sending along a special meal for Peg of her favorite chopped chicken. She went everywhere with them now that she could walk instead of hop. Timothy worked with her on obedience training and her fear of horses when he wasn’t out with his men working.
Timothy slid the Daily Independent out of the picnic basket’s handle, which kept the paper from blowing away in the breeze. “This article says that besides the two hundred politicians expected from every state in the Union, the United States President Chester A. Arthur, General Sheridan, and General Grant, there are journalists and dignitaries from Europe. The man expected to drive the final spike is the president of the Northern Pacific, Henry Villard. He invited all these people to show them the wonders of the West.” Refolding the paper, he added, “I’m sure he’s counting on the word to spread and keep those trains filled. The amount of money the Northern Pacific has to recoup is astounding.”
“Yet they haven’t solved the time schedules.” Tara shook her head. Her gaze followed the length of the temporary wooden grandstand built to hold a thousand. There hadn’t been room for all the people who came from every corner of Montana. Many sat on the hillside as Timothy and Tara did or in their wagons and carriages. Elaborate decorations of pine boughs and draped bunting on the grandstand turned the south side of the river into a spectacle like a county fair. Flags from England and Germany fluttered in the wind, friendly neighbors to the United States flag. Trains lined the track in the distance, waiting to carry their passengers all the way to the Puget Sound on the cross-country extravaganza. “But five trainloads? I think they just doubled our population.”
Timothy sputtered then gave in to the laughter.
She gave him a resigned glance. So much for sarcasm. “I know there’s more than a thousand people in Montana. There’s more than that in Butte alone.” The Fifth Infantry Band struck up a march, drowning out any response from him. She didn’t need to be laughed at as a dumb girl. She could out-cipher any man. Her ledgers proved it.
He leaned into her ear. “Tara, I think you’re brilliant.”
She turned, their lips so close she could feel the warmth of him. “Oh.”
Timothy touched her nose lightly with his then held out his elbow for her to take. She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, looked up into his eyes, and a smile passed between them.
Throughout the afternoon, the generals and other dignitaries gave speeches interspersed with music until the finale. The honored dignitaries half-circled the tracks for a momentous photograph. The historic joining of East and West on the northern line changed the concept of travel as much as the 1869 event, maybe more. Tara’s western world collided with Timothy’s eastern. Every time she snuck a peek at him, he snuck one right back. She hardly heard a word from any of the speakers over the thumping of her heart. Peg forced her nose into Tara’s palm. Grateful for the distraction, she sat for a moment and gave the devoted dog her attention.
Timothy broke into applause with the throng, jolting Tara to follow suit. Peg jumped up, tail wagging. She looked almost regal, full of health and energy, as Timothy ruffled her rust-and-white fur. They were both the picture of health and energy. Happiness pinged around inside Tara’s heart. Coming at Timothy’s invitation, without her father or Cookie, gave the impression of courting. She liked the idea of courting Timothy. Would she remember anything of the historic day other than how she felt right now?
President Arthur stuck out his hand, clamping onto the Honorable William M. Evarts’s as he raised his voice for the crowd. “Sir, a mighty oration worthy of this historic moment. Thank you.”
General Ulysses S. Grant received the sledgehammer. Instead of raising it, he presented it to Henry Villard. “The honor, Mr. Villard, is yours for being the man who believed it possible to traverse our great country from sea to sea. There’s no greater symbol of unity than this today.”
At the moment the hammer struck the spike, the one hundred guns thundered a salute. Peg barked to her heart’s content while the band roared into a rousing celebration mixed with thousands of cheers. Tara couldn’t for the life of her figure out what song played over the raucous noise. They’d come to see history made and a continent opened to the world. Now the world would come to, and through, Montana. Would they be better off for it?
“Been a long day. We shouldn’t be too late to the Kruegers’s.”
Timothy folded the quilt while Tara gathered the basket. “Kind of your friends to let us stay tonight.”
She grinned. “You get the barn loft.”
They walked together down the grassy embankment, Peg trotting alongside, to the winding river where hundreds of horses lined the bank, resting through the afternoon. The cottonwoods showed the early signs of autumn, turning from deep to lime green with some already tinged yellow.
September’s warm days were Tara’s favorite. Rarely a bad day in the month as the leaves turned to a glowing gold better than any mine could produce. The next few weeks would be glorious. Tara soaked in the blue sky, thanking God for the beauty around her.
Finding the JBarF Morgans, they dodged others preparing to leave while a newsie circulated specially printed leaflets.
“The next endeavor, miss.” He handed the news page to Tara. “See where the train goes next.” He wandered off, calling, “Big news! Get your copy!”
“Next?” She scanned the printed ad. “Oh no!”
Timothy halted the horse he led next to the carriage. “What? What’s wrong?”
Peg leaped inside, nose in the air sniffing at the wind and waiting for her people.
She shoved the flyer into his hands. “We have to get home now!”
The carriage ride home took long, grueling hours. Tara paced each time they rested the horses, unable to do so herself. What if the newly created Montana Railway succeeded in their plans to build from Butte to Helena? The proposed route would run west and then north right through the JBarF and several other ranches. Now the mechanical beast that revolutionized transporting their cattle and horses could destroy everything!
“Pa!” Tara hitched up her skirt and jumped from the buckboard. The longer skirt she normally saved for Sundays hampered her speed. “Pa?” she called again, Peg right at her heels, barking their arrival.
Her father swung open the front door. “What’s all this ruckus?” He slid a suspender over the shoulder of his long johns.
“We’re in trouble.” She shoved the leaflet at him. “Big trouble.”
“Calm down.” He hugged her, the paper crinkled in his hand. “Take a deep breath and tell me the problem, Mouse.”
“Pa, they’re gonna take our ranch!” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “The railroad has plans to cut right through our property to connect Anaconda up to Helena, and then all the way down to California. They’re callin’ it eminent domain. Even if they buy our land, it’s gonna be at rock-bottom price.”
“Hold on.” He smoothed the page out and read. Worry lines deepened on his forehead. Finally, he raised his head. His words were measured. “We’ll fight it.”
Timothy turned the horses over to a groggy Jeremy. Hopping up the two porch steps, he asked, “How, sir?”
“We go to this hearin’ in Helena and present our case.”
Her father ushered them into the kitchen where Cookie already had a pot of coffee boiling on the wood-burning stove. They’d managed to wake them all.
“How are we supposed to do that?” Tara folded her arms. “Even if we go, nobody will listen to one rancher, Pa.” She sat heavily in a kitchen chair. “And what about the livestock auction? We got a lot of horses and cattle that need sellin’ if we’re gonna make it through the winter.”
Peg curled up in her box by the back door. Her long fur ruffled in the light breeze that blew through the house. Crickets chirped as if singing with the occasional hoot of an owl.
“What if we form a protest?” Timothy spoke up as he turned his chair backward. “Let’s circulate a petition.” He straddled the chair. “We won’t be the only ranch affected.”
Her father looked at his pocket watch. “Two.” He shook his head. “Gonna be a short night. After church, we talk to as many families as possible.”
Cookie slid a coffee cup in front of each place. His quiet way added a solemn, unifying presence.
Pa nodded, taking a chair beside Tara. “If we organize and make sure everyone knows, there’s some potential in makin’ a stand. Might mean somethin’ if the hearin’ is packed with landowners.”
“Then I’ll ride out this week and talk to as many others as I can before the roundup. We can ask them all to go to the hearing.”
Tara disagreed. “No, Timothy. It’s a good idea, but I need to be the one to ride to the other homesteads and ranches. People know me. They’ll listen. With the cattle drive comin’, you need to keep charge of our men.”
Cookie added, “Peg ain’t gonna train herself to herd them cows.” He served up rhubarb custard pie.
“We have enough ranch hands for the time being to hold the roundup, Timothy, thanks to you findin’ a few more.” Her father leaned one elbow on the table, reaching for his slice. “But Tara is right. The men are just gettin’ used to takin’ your orders.” He tapped his fingers on the table, emphasizing his words. “Now that you are up and about, we need that expertise here more than runnin’ around the county. How’s Peg’s training comin’? She gonna be useful?”
Timothy lifted a cup of coffee to his lips then lowered it. “Peg will be riding with Cookie for her first drive and guarding at night. She’s too young and inexperienced for the whole run. Next year we’ll have a herding dog fully trained.” He took the swig.
Her pa nodded. “Guardin’. That’ll do.” He nodded a satisfied approval. “We’ll call a plannin’ meeting. Mouse, you go out by the Carlson and O’Shea ranches, and keep headin’ that direction. I’ll go by way of the O’Connell and Burke places and get some of them to spread the word with us.” He nodded again, “No matter what happens, we need to get our herds to auction. That, above all else, is how we survive.”
Tara agreed. “Maybe that’ll bring the O’Connells around. They work with us or lose part of their ranch too.”
Pa nodded. “And, everybody, pray us through. Ain’t nobody gettin’ nowhere without the Lord on our side.”
“We’ll have so many agreeing as one, it’ll be louder than that hundred-gun salute today.” Buoyed by the plan, Tara savored the sweet-tart flavor of Cookie’s dessert. A protest from the whole county would surely force the railroad to build through unclaimed land in the territory rather than steal from those already established. Though they’d have to survey another stretch. She closed her eyes and sent a prayer heavenward.