Hank refrained from donning the waistcoat draped over the back of the chair, before heading out for the day. Primarily, because the warm weather didn’t require it. Second, he couldn’t abide the peculiar glances women gave him as he walked down the street. Embolden, they often asked, “Are you dressed in character?” The notion of a railroad man being involved in a vaudeville production was absurd. Though, Li harped on him excessively about the need to update his wardrobe. It wasn’t a priority.
Taking a seat at his favorite corner table, he read the paper at his leisure, drinking his coffee. He liked the hot beverage, a far more satisfying choice than the tea his daughter insisted on drinking. He had to remind himself he hadn’t been subjugated to the higher purpose of tea steeped in Li’s culture. For him, he just needed something to get him going in the morning, not a ceremonious ritual. He looked at the checkout counter, the woman operating the expresso machine glanced up from her work and smiled. It was divine providence, the yardmaster spied Li and April as they made their way toward the old gold mine.
Since he and Li’s arrival, April had shown them nothing but kindness and respect, particularly in their moments of terror and confusion, easing their way into the twenty-first century. It was horrific for April to wake up in a time to which she didn’t belong. He understood that experience firsthand. And yet, whether the past or future, there was an innate fascination exploring an era one could only envision, creating an alluring call to adventure.
Glancing over at his daughter while she checked out a customer, he could see she was in her element. Service with a smile, and finding purpose in her task, Li had enjoyed the freedom she would have never experienced in their Deadwood. What would have been her fate, he wondered? Her extended family denied reentry into America, the foundation of the Wing Tsue building all that remained, her Chinatown no longer existed. The burst of cold coming from the air conditioning had nothing to do with the shiver running down his spine.
His two women bonded, spending their days traipsing up and town mountains and valley’s searching for plants and herbs, to dry or brew, distilling tinctures and creating ointments and salves to sell at April’s coffee and gift shop. His heart swelled with a certain pride watching his daughter interact with the people interested in her products. She’d found her calling and it made him appreciate the woman even more. April took the chair across from him. “I see your enjoying your morning routine.”
April had been instrumental in helping him find purpose in this new world as well. His intimate knowledge of the Chicago, Burlington, Quincy railroad proved to be an invaluable resource, landing him work at the train museum where he held lectures at his leisure and served as a tour guide on the 1880 excursions. Taking his hand in hers, April said, “It’s such a lovely day, what do you say we all go for a bike ride this afternoon.”
Cycling. It had taken him more than a beat learning to ride a bike. April was a proficient rider, and she kicked his butt, climbing the steep mountain trail. Even Li surpassed his ability. There was no denying it was the best way of getting into remote places without long arduous hiking or riding on horseback. Nonetheless, it was a minor blow to his ego. Still, he enjoyed spending the day biking along the once vital railroad line between Edgemont and Deadwood. It was—relaxing, and contemplative. At times, his heart took on a certain melancholy, a yearning for the past and familiar. It was fleeting. This was his life now, this present, this leap into the future. Powered by a supernatural stone, a train crash, and an unexpected storm, he’d stopped wondering how or why a blue dog and a black dragon had been brought together. It must have been clandestine, a mystery only the almighty or the Eastern mystics could explain. His obligation now was the welfare of his only child, a blossoming relationship with this woman from the future and simply enjoy the moment.
Hank returned April’s pro-offered gesture, “That sounds good.”