Chapter 25
The Two Letters

It seemed kind of dull at home for the next couple of weeks. I couldn’t find much energy to interest myself in anything. I went on long walks and rides and pretty much kept to myself. I doubt I did anybody much good when I went into town and tried to busy myself with Mine and Freight business.

Marcus Weber looked me over with his big drooping eyes of concern every day I came in, and finally, when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he burst out one day, “What in tarnation be ailin’ you, Miss Corrie? Blamed if I just can’t stand to see you lookin’ so sad!”

I smiled, but from the reaction on his beautiful, tender black face I could tell it didn’t reassure him much. “Nothing, Marcus,” I said. “I am just fine. Just a little tired.”

I know he wasn’t convinced. He looked me over for another several seconds, with an unspoken expression of concern flooding across his humble features. He gave me a nervous fatherly hug, and I almost thought I detected a tear in one of his eyes. Then he turned and went back out to the livery. In those brief moments, I felt my heart’s eyes could see down into Marcus far deeper than his mere words expressed.

It was such a revelation. I could see how much he really loved me! To be loved like that, when you realize how deep it goes into somebody else’s heart, has to be one of the most humbling things in all of life.

Pa acted the same way, looking at me with concern, asking if I was sick, telling me I ought to be eating more or I was going to waste away. Almeda didn’t say much; she just smiled at me a lot, and gave me more than my share of motherly hugs whenever she had the chance. She knew what it was, and knew that I had to work through it as best I could on my own.

A couple of letters arrived early in August that helped me get back on my feet and quit thinking so much about Cal Burton. I couldn’t stop thinking about him altogether, but having something to do at least got my brain and hands occupied with activity.

The first was a letter to Pa from Alexander Dalton. He said the time was getting very close when Pa would have to make up his mind about whether to run or not. He stressed again his assurance that Drummond Hollister was exactly the kind of man the state of California needed, and his confidence that if Pa made up his mind soon, there would be victory in November. He would handle the whole campaign and all the details, he said. It would not cost Pa a cent. All he had to do was give his consent and perhaps make two or three speeches between Miracle Springs and Sacramento—Grass Valley and Auburn, and maybe one or two other towns besides.

The second letter was addressed to me. My heart jumped for a moment, but then settled back into place when I saw the familiar handwriting of my editor at the Alta. Not so long ago, a note or letter from Mr. Kemble would send me into a positive tizzy. Now I found myself opening it almost with disappointment. His words, however, were sufficient to bring a tingle to my skin.

You always continue to astound me, Corrie Hollister. I never gave you two cents’ worth of a chance of succeeding in this business, but you’ve been writing for me for six years and are one of the most well-known reporters I have. And now you’ve taken up speechmaking and politics besides! Is there anything you don’t do?

In any case, I have heard the reports from Sacramento where, as I understand it, you were quite impressive. My Republican friends are badgering me for an article under your byline in support of the Lincoln-Hamlin ticket. Dalton says he will pay half if I will offer you enough myself to encourage you to set your pen to paper again as you did, unfortunately in vain, for the Fremont cause. He also assures me that, for the right article, he could almost guarantee publication in most of the major eastern cities. We would like an article of some length, which men and politicians would heed as well as the women who make up your customary readership. This is the title we would like to use: “Why Abraham Lincoln Should Be President—A Woman’s Point of View.”

Can you do it? We will pay you a total of ten dollars. We would need the finished article by September 15 in order to get it to the east and published within the first week or two of October.

I remain, sincerely yours,

EDWARD KEMBLE