Gone to Idaho

By Enid E. Haag

Ida saved from a burning building during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, is rescued by Jamie, a passerby. Left scared and not remembering who she is, her hero, after failing to locate any of her family, takes her along with him to Idaho where he seeks his fortune.

Idas husband Bruno, who has been searching for his wife learns she might be in Idaho and sets out to find her leaving his daughter behind. Emma, frustrated at being left behind again, follows her Papa. Two young friends, Juan and Wolfe, contrive to join and protect Emma on her journey to locate papa. Arriving in Idaho, Emma learns her father is hospitalized in a coma resulting from a run-away horse accident. By chance, mother and daughter meet, both experience some strange physical reactions but dont recognize each other. Eventually Idas memory returns, allowing a brief reunion of the couple before Bruno, Emmas papa dies. Reconciliation between daughter and mother takes longer, complicated by past wounds and disagreements. Several budding romantic attachments during the story provide mystery and laughter right to the last chapter.

This second book in the New Mexico Gal Series, continues the story begun in Gone to Texas of the challenges and biases faced by early twentieth-century men and women as the United States began its westward expansion to the Pacific Ocean. The story glimpses history starting in 1906 of San Francisco, Seattle, Denver, Emmett and Boise, Idaho over a ten-year period.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Jul 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781480846258

Enid E. Haag

Enid is very familiar with the Army Nurse Corps having first come in contact with army nurses when the family followed their army dentist father around camps during WW2. During the Viet Nam era war, Enid, an officer in the Women’s Army Corps, served at William Beaumont General Army Hospital in El Paso, Texas, residing in the nurses’ quarters and commanded a company of army practical nurses, and other enlisted women medical specialists. Not a nurse, Enid is a retired research librarian and teacher. She’s published a research guide with Greenwood Press as well as written and self-published six other books. Gone to War is her sixth book based on historical events.

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Copyright © 2017 Enid E. Haag.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-4626-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4624-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4625-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017906517

Archway Publishing rev. date: 7/25/2017

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

In memory of my pioneering Idaho Grandparents

Preface

Gone to Idaho is the second volume of the New Mexico Gal trilogy, a family saga. It continues the adventures of fifteen-year-old Emma, now almost grown, devoted to her papa and striving to build a life for both of them without the other two family members, Mama and brother Edmund. When Papa takes off to track down someone who might be his lost wife, Emma follows. Thus begins the next poignant tales of a strong-minded young woman unafraid to face the challenges and biases of early twentieth-century western frontier life in Colorado and Idaho, complicated by budding romantic attachments.

Chapter 1

Santa Fe, New Mexico

1911

Emma watched as a lone cowboy ran to catch the daily Chili Line train leaving Santa Fe just as the conductor shouted, All aboard. The door slammed, and the conductor waved through the half door to the engineer ahead that all were aboard. The train whistle blew twice before the cars lurched and slowly began moving out of the station.

The last passenger walked down the aisle, rolling with the motion of the train past several vacant seats before reaching the row where Emma sat. Motioning to the seat beside her he asked, "Amigo, is this seat taken?"

He was tall but bean-pole thin. She recognized him instantly.

You know darn well it isn’t taken, Juan.

He tossed his blanket roll into the overhead rack next to hers before sitting down and tipped his Stetson back a trifle with one finger. Emma saw him smile before he turned to her. He whispered, Thought you’d leave without me?

What are you doing here? she hissed.

I have my reasons, Emma. You forget I know how you think. Fool me once but never twice.

Emma muttered, You weren’t asked. I don’t need you.

I’m here, and I plan to follow you like a faithful sheepdog.

I can take care of myself, was her angry retort as Emma folded her hands on her lap.

Yeah, just like you did once, snickered Juan, settling into the seat beside her. You were pretty happy to see those sheepherders who found you when you attempted to run away after the court awarded custody of you to your Texas uncle.

Fighting to contain her anger over his chiding her about her failed runaway attempt years ago, she twisting sideways, away from him, to stare out the window at the rocky hillside supporting scraggly cedar and piñon bushes. She’d chosen the Chili Line over the more direct route to Denver in hopes that none of the family would be watching this local narrow-gauge rail line that transported supplies and a few passengers to small communities along the line to Antonio, Colorado. Darn Juan! He’d read her mind.

I’m coming with you. We’ll be two amigos looking for work in Idaho. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? he asked, raising his voice slightly at the end. He turned from her and glanced at the nearby passengers, mostly ranch hands returning from a weekend in town, along with a few Navajos heading home after selling their pottery, jewelry, or blankets at the town market.

Think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, you smart aleck twenty-year-old college kid, said Emma. Just two men, one Anglo and the other Spanish, traveling together. Really! Someone’s certain to report us to a sheriff. Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone and let me search for Papa by myself?

Emma’s comment drew his attention back to her. Fifteen-year-old young ladies don’t travel alone. You know that. I couldn’t let you. But you did solve one problem by deciding to disguise yourself as a man, chuckled Juan, slouching slightly in his seat and crossing his arms. It will be easy for us to pass ourselves off as ranch hands seeking work. Oh, by the way, wonderful choice to travel to Antonito rather than directly to Denver. Brilliant thinking.

Exasperated at the turn of events, none of which she’d anticipated, Emma spat, La-di-da. Why does Juan consider me his responsibility? she wondered. Turning toward the window in time to see the train cross the Rio Grande toward the Pajarito Plateau at the foot of the Jemez Mountains, she recalled occasions when Papa had brought her and Edmund up here in search of Indian artifacts. Those had been happy times, away from Mama’s constant criticism. Papa allowed her to dig wherever she wanted and collect anything that caught her fancy.

Why don’t we call a truce? urged Juan. I’m here. Can’t we look at this as our first out-of-state adventure?

Ignoring his remarks, Emma stared out at the passing desert. She knew she was pouting but didn’t care; he deserved the silent treatment. As the train crawled up the grade, she began thinking about her trip eastward with Senor Caruso from California after the earthquake. She’d been devastated by the loss of her family, so much so she’d lost her voice and had to communicate with the sign language Caruso taught her. That train had chugged along much like the one she now rode on. Caruso, who loved cartooning, had drawn a series of funny-looking trains huffing and puffing to climb the mountain passes. He’d even sung little ditties about a chugging engine, and members of the Metropolitan Opera Chorus, who were traveling in their car had joined in. How she wished Caruso sat next to her now rather than Juan.

Turning toward Juan, she found him slumped with his Stetson over his face, sound asleep. Humph! He didn’t care enough to even stay awake. She quietly stood up and started to slide past him.

Going someplace?

Yes, to find another seat with a more congenial passenger, she retorted.

Well, partner, now that you’re speaking again, shouldn’t we discuss our travel plans?

Arms crossed, Emma sat back down, staring into Juan’s jet black eyes. You’re not coming with me, articulating each word carefully.

In a firm but calm tone, Juan asked, What do you want to be called? I certainly can’t use your real name without betraying your gender.

You’re heading back home, so you won’t have to call me anything.

Now look here, Emma, you can’t stop me. I’m your sidekick. There’s no arguing. I’m here, and I’m traveling with you. Two searching for someone is better than one. Juan’s piercing, dark eyes stared into Emma’s with determination. It was as if they were playing a game of who would flinch first. She strained not to look away. This challenge had to be won. The seconds passed, and neither gave in. Emma suddenly lost her concentration, blinked, and looked away. Slapping her knee with one hand, she vented her frustration. Darn you. You always could stare me down.

Juan showed no jubilation but whispered, Have you a name you’d like to be called?

Resigned for the moment, Emma shrugged her shoulders. I guess Gilbert.

Gilbert it is, said Juan, lifting his right hand toward her to shake on the deal. Emma turned to offer him her hand. We’ve just cemented a man-to-man deal. Juan winked.

The two watched the hilly scenery as the train wound its way northward. Emma felt herself relax. Right from the beginning, she’d had an uneasy feeling about traveling alone. Now Juan had joined her, she admitted to feeling less worried. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. Emma wondered why she’d caved in so readily. Normally, she gave as good as she got. Did she have another reason for letting him win? Could she admit she was stubborn and argued out of pure spite? Managing her Papa’s store for the last year had taught her to be determined, to stand up for herself. If she didn’t, no one else would.

Glancing at Juan beside her, she couldn’t help notice him observing her lean legs beneath the tight jean pants. He normally only saw her in pants when they went riding, and then he didn’t have much time to scrutinize her figure. She smiled to himself as she recalled how his hand felt on her bottom when he’d boosted her up into her pony’s saddle when she’d first learned to ride at Uncle Fritz’s ranch. She’d been slightly roly-poly then, but now all the baby fat was gone; she was skinny and flat chested.

Midmorning, Emma shared sandwiches, cookies, and coffee with Juan. Leaning back in his seat with half of a cup of java, he turned toward her and said, You know, I’ve never really known how you all got separated from your mama. Do you recall what happened the day of the earthquake?

Emma chewed and swallowed the last bite of her oatmeal cookie before emptying her cup. Even though I was only ten at the time, the events of that day are imprinted in my memory. After Papa carried me safely out of the hotel, he ran back to get Edmund and Mama. They were to follow us, and when they failed to appear Papa ran back to find them. He’d just disappeared when Mama and Edmund emerged from the building. They hadn’t seen Papa on their way out. We waited a long time, but he never returned, and Edmund decided to look for him. It wasn’t long before the buildings around the hotel and then the hotel itself burst into flames. When the navy broke through the rubble blocking our street, they created a path and led us to safety. While I was watching them, I forgot Mama. From the time she’d exited the hotel with Edmund, she’d been acting strange, like she was in shock. Anyway, while I was distracted, she ran into one of the burning buildings near the hotel. That’s the last I saw of her.

So that’s why your papa took off suddenly to look for her. For the past five years, he’s thought she was dead, but now there’s hope she might be alive. I’d do the same if I thought I could find my lost wife. Looking carefully at Emma, he added in a hushed tone, Kinda like me trailing after you. Juan started to put his hand around Emma’s shoulder but stopped himself. She was now Gil, a young man, beside him, not Emma. I’m so sorry. I never knew.

Wiping moisture from her cheeks with a sleeve, she turned toward him. "Thank you. I’ve always blamed myself for her disappearance. I tried to run after her, but Caruso stopped me from entering the burning building. He saved me. He became my self-appointed guardian after that. While we waited for a train eastward, he and Martino, his manservant, searched everywhere for my family, but they couldn’t find anyone fitting their descriptions. They even checked every merchant ship leaving the harbor, except one called the Maryjane, headed north up the coast toward Seattle. Nothing!"

Chapter 2

Five Years Earlier

May 1906, San Francisco

Jamie looked up from the glass he was drying to see his best friend enter the bar and saunter toward him. Top of the afternoon to you. What will it be, black coffee or a beer? he asked, noting a little late Dillion’s bloodshot eyes and grungy appearance. A whiskey with dash of Dr. Johnson’s then, he said, turning toward the large, cracked bar mirror.

Don’t bother. Nothing will help, not even Dr. Johnson’s Elixir. Are you ready to clear out of this hellhole of a town yet? I am. Or are you still playing Sir Galahad to lost and frightened ladies? asked Dillon, smiling lopsidedly at this friend.

Placing a whiskey glass with a splash of the special elixir on the counter in front of his pal, Jamie rested the palms of his hands on the edge of the bar and leaned toward his friend. Try this. And no, I have my hands full with the one lady, thank you.

Well then, let’s get out of San Francisco, pronto, Dillon remarked before taking a gulp of the drink before him and heading for the door.

Okay, I agree we should go, but I’m taking my lady with us, announced Jamie. He tried to hide the pleasure that flickered across his face as he watched his friend turn abruptly and walk back toward him.

Jamie, you can’t be serious about taking that strange woman with you. That’s nonsense, said Dillon, flopping down on the barstool in front of his friend, who remained behind the counter. He set his square jaw; his bloodshot eyes looked directly into the intense blue eyes across from him. He added, Think what you’re taking on! She remembers nothing before the earthquake, not even her name.

I know. I know it doesn’t make sense, Jamie responded. "But look at it this way—I’ve delayed leaving San Francisco for two weeks to try to locate someone who can identify her, with no luck. Rescuing her from the building next to the Palace Hotel