Calico Kate

By Mary Lee Tiernan

Watching a saloon fight, hearing a ghost in the hallway, dating a gambler…Kathleen could never have imagined such experiences during her homeless days living on the streets of New York. An orphan train brings her West where a chance encounter at a train stop lands her a job in the silver-mining town of Calico, California. Her job entails cleaning in a "boarding house" where the girls befriend her, and the madam protects her. Afternoons and evenings she is free to roam around town where she meets colorful characters typical of the Old West—some pleasant, some not—witnesses mine workers attacking the Chinese, and helps put out a fire threatening to burn down the town. Every day is an adventure for Kathleen in this wild west town of the 1880s.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Lee Tiernan
• Release date: Jun 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223247319

Mary Lee Tiernan

I was born in New York, but the lure of open spaces brought me west, and I now call Arizona home. Throughout my professional life as an educator and newspaper editor, my passion has always been writing. My other passion is exploring all the West has to offer, and I am often RVing down the road with my cat Charlie.

Book preview

Calico Kate

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by

Mary Lee Tiernan

Copyright 2013 Mary Lee Tiernan

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All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be copied or reproduced in any format without the prior written consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews.

Table of Contents

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

Bibliography

Books by the Author

Chapter 1

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The freezing wind chaffed her legs till they turned bright red. From a discarded box of clothes sitting on top of a garbage pail, she pulled out garments one by one. She tossed aside the dresses and sweaters sizes too small for her. Underneath them, she unearthed a pair of men’s wool pants. Well, not exactly men’s, she thought to herself as she held them up, more like a teenage boy’s. Men’s pants would never fit her thin frame, but a boy’s might. She glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching her, and then pulled the warm fabric over her icy legs and thin skirt. Instantly, she felt relief from the freezing wind. Digging further, she pulled out a boy’s cap and sweater. When she donned the thick sweater, the long sleeves hung below her fingertips, protecting her hands. Just as she tucked her unmanageable hair under the brown cap and pulled it down low over her forehead, a window creaked open above her.

Hey, what’d’ya doin’ down there? Git goin’ before I call the police.

Kathleen never even looked up; she just ran. A block later when she slowed down, she heard a man’s voice yell, Hey, boy.

At first, she didn’t respond, since of course, she wasn’t a boy, but a glance in a store window told her she looked very much like a boy with her ‘new’ clothes. She was ready to run again, when the man yelled, Are you deaf, boy? Come here. I need someone to run an errand.

Running an errand meant earning a few pennies. Kathleen couldn’t believe her good luck – warm clothes and money on the same day! Comin’, mister, she yelled back.

A large man with a well-fed belly waited impatiently as she crossed the street. He handed her an envelope and gave directions. You wait and bring me back an answer and I’ll pay ya double.

All the way there and back, Kathleen dreamed about the hot soup and warm rolls she would buy for dinner. When she returned, the man told her to stick around as he’d have more errands. She did. Soon she ran errands for him every day. Since the man, Mr. Pinkle, found it more convenient to keep her nearby, ready and waiting when he needed her, he allowed her to sleep in the basement of his business. He never called her anything but boy, which suited her just fine.

One day, however, as she stood in Mr. Pinkle’s office listening to instructions for an errand, an irate man burst through the door. He banged on the counter for attention, then seeing Kathleen, pointed at her and hollered, Pinkle, that nincompoop of an errand boy just cost me a lot of money.

Mr. Pinkle stared blankly at him. That stupid boy left the message with my clerk instead of giving it to me personally and... As the man ranted on, Mr. Pinkle turned to her. Of course, Mr. Pinkle had not told her to leave the message with a specific person; they both knew that. So when Mr. Pinkle berated her for her stupidity, she understood he was just trying to save face by blaming the mishap on her.

She accepted the criticism without comment, lowering her head and looking as contrite as possible. She knew that once the irate man left the office, all would be back to normal. The man, however, had no intention of letting Kathleen off so easily. In his fury, he stepped forward and hit her hard across the face. The whack threw Kathleen off balance and knocked off her cap. As she fell to the floor, her long, unruly curls tumbled out and fell across her shoulders. Both men froze, speechless at her transformation.

Kathleen grabbed her cap and hastily retreated to her basement hideaway. She cursed the ill-luck that would ruin this niche she had created for herself. Amid the empty crates and bits of broken furniture, Kathleen had constructed a make-shift bed. A separate rear door allowed her to come and go as she pleased, but at night, she could latch the door on the inside to lock it and keep others out. With the pennies she earned, she bought food. She had a safe, dry place to sleep, something to eat, and a job to occupy the long hours.

But now that Mr. Pinkle knew she was a girl, he would never allow her to stay. As she hastily gathered her few belongings, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

Put one over on me, did ya? her boss sneered. Well, might as well get my satisfaction before I throw you out.

As he began to undo his belt buckle, Kathleen gasped in horror. Never had she expected this danger. Mr. Pinkle advanced on her. When he reached her, still fumbling with the buttons on his trousers, she swung the bundle of belongings she held in her hand. The impact stopped him momentarily as he fought to regain his balance. Kathleen jumped clear of him and ran for the door. He tried to grab her, but after many years of running away in the dangerous streets, she easily evaded him.

A shaft of light filtered through the grimy window and nudged Kathleen awake. At first, she turned away, not wanting to face another dreary day in the city. But the clack, clack, clack of the train wheels roused her memory, and her eyes popped open. She wasn’t in the city any longer! She was on her way to... well, actually she didn’t know what she was on her way to. She only hoped that the journey led to a life worth living.

Cautiously, not wanting to awaken the others, she disentangled herself from the once-blue blanket and stood up, bracing herself against the wooden walls of the coach car until she gained her balance on the speeding train.

Stepping carefully past the other children sleeping side by side on thin mattresses on the floor, she crossed to the window. The endless fields of sun-tanned wheat and green stalks of corn waved to her in the early morning breeze. Kathleen smiled. Never, ever, had she envisioned such uninterrupted sky, such wondrous space, when she had huddled hopelessly in the corner of some dilapidated brick high-rise.

A tug at her skirt broke her thoughts. She looked down at Sarah squirming out of her blanket. Time to get up? Sarah asked.

Sssh, Kathleen warned. The others ain’t awake yet.

But in trying to stand up, Sarah lost her footing and fell sideways onto Jeremy. Get offa me, he howled, instantly awake and ready to fight. He pushed at the weight pinning him down, but only managed to tangle himself in his blanket. Finally, awake enough to realize where he was, he stopped struggling and looked at the little girl. Geese, what’ya do that fer?

I didn’t mean ta. I jest fell, Sarah said tearfully.

Ahh, girls... Jeremy wrinkled his nose in disgust, but also leaned over and gently tousled her hair.

Kathleen bent over and picked Sarah up. The thin little girl snuggled into her arms. I didn’t mean ta, she repeated.

I know, Kathleen said.

Freed of Sarah’s weight, Jeremy disentangled himself and threw aside his blanket, which landed on Tommy’s head.

Hey, watch it, Tommy said in a muffled voice.

Jeremy stood up, towering over the smaller boy. Wanna make somethin’ of it? he challenged, as he pulled off the blanket.

Jeremy, enough, said Miss Ames from the corner of the car.

Geese, weren’t me fallin’ on everybody. Don’t know why we got to sleep so close together anyhow, he said, spreading out his hands to encompass the half-empty car. We got lots’a room now.

His words reminded Kathleen of how crowded the car seemed at the beginning of their trip. Twenty of them had shuffled nervously in a ragged line as they boarded the orphan train, each clutching a small tote bag containing a change of clothes. They had jostled each other trying to find a seat inside the railroad car before the doors closed on times best-forgotten.

When the train pulled out of the station, one boy had raised his cap in mock salute and said, Goodbye, New York. Don’t think I’ll miss ya too much.

Kathleen had grinned, silently agreeing with his comment. As the train gathered speed, she had watched the skyline rush past the window. Distance hid from view the back alleys where rats had scurried around stinky garbage cans and over their sleeping bodies. Behind them lay the days of tummies growling from hunger and the nights of winter snow covering them with a white blanket. Who would miss that?

Before them lay hope – hope of finding a family to love and care for them. Kathleen heard the clacking of each wheel as a promise, carrying them closer and closer to a better life. Soon... soon... soon... the wheels promised. For fourteen of them, the wheels had not lied. Each adoption left more empty space, but the six of them remaining still huddled close together at night.

You sleep close together for warmth, Jeremy, Miss Ames said. She bent down to help five-year-old Rachel crawl out from under the worn blanket. You know how cold it gets at night.

Well, I jest...

Are you okay? Miss Ames said before he could finish. She bent to examine him while the other children started folding their blankets to store them on the narrow wooden benches that lined the sides of the coach car.

Ah, ya think that little pipsqueak can hurt me? he said, but stood still as Miss Ames checked for bruises.

While she examined Jeremy, the other children finished folding their blankets and lined up expectantly for their breakfast. As usual, they let Rachel, the ‘baby,’ stand first in line, her big brown eyes wide with anticipation. Miss Ames handed each of them a piece of bread, half an apple, and a cup of water. Kathleen came last.

Miss Ames glanced over at the other children eating and whispered, I wish I had eggs or hot cereal for you. Maybe some milk...

Believe me, Miss Ames, said Kathleen as she accepted the crispy apple. We’s happy with this.

Miss Ames meandered from child to child as her ragged group tried its best to make themselves presentable for the upcoming stop. She tucked in shirts and buttoned dresses and wiped smudges from faces. Their second-hand clothes, donated by various charity groups, never fit very well to begin with. Dust and dirt, rips and tears, made them look even worse. Sarah’s yellow dress, spotted with grime, almost looked polka-dotted in the dim light. Tommy’s white shirt had turned gray. Willy’s knees strained to break through his worn pants, and the hem of Rachel’s dress hung unevenly where the thread had broken.

The older children helped the younger ones. Jeremy, his head held at a cocky angle, tied Willie’s shoes and straightened Tommy’s cap. Sarah and Rachel stood still while Kathleen combed and braided their hair. When it came to dressing her own hair, Kathleen simply tried patting it into place. Her long wild strawberry curls defied any attempt to keep them in order.

As the train slowed down for the approaching station, the children peered out the window for glimpses of the town and the station depot. Kathleen knew they all shared the same unspoken questions. How many people would be there to greet them? Was this the place they would get off the train and not get back on again? Was there a family who would choose them? Who would take them in and give them a home?

Kathleen, Sarah had whispered when Kathleen finished braiding her hair, do ya think iffen I had pretty bows someone would like me better?

As the train traveled farther and farther west leaving station after station in their wake, Kathleen’s hope had begun to fade. Miss Ames said the train would soon be through the Kansas farm land and into the arid region of the Southwest. Kathleen could not picture the arid Southwest any more than she had been able to envision the prairies of the Midwest. But that didn’t really matter. All that mattered was finding a family. But after each stop, as the disappointments mounted, the clacks of the train sang a different tune. Maybe... maybe not... maybe... maybe not... they now said.

Kathleen shuddered remembering the only time anyone had shown any interest in her so far. At the stop in Hollow Creek, she had waited in the crowd as usual, hoping to hear kind and welcoming words, when a large, potbellied man approached her. She looked up into his pale face, with its bushy eyebrows and unkempt mustache, and froze. The icy fingers of fear gripped her heart and pushed her back in time. The busy train station dissolved into that raw February in New York City when Mr. Pinkle was unbuttoning his pants to attack her.

Well, girl, I asked your name. The rough voice jerked Kathleen back to the Hollow Creek station and the potbellied man who reminded her of Mr. Pinkle. She could not answer him. Family or no, she could not face life with a man who would constantly remind her of that horrible day, and of the despair and wretchedness she faced after leaving the security of her basement home.

Although Miss Ames had not understood the thoughts swirling through Kathleen’s mind, she had recognized a problem and intervened. What’s wrong with this girl? Can’t she talk? the man demanded when Miss Ames stepped in-between them.

Miss Ames did not answer his question directly. Perhaps you’d like to talk to some of the other children, she suggested. Without further comment, she took Kathleen’s hand and led her away. Kathleen stayed on the fringes of the crowd for the rest of the stopover and breathed a sigh of relief when they finally re-boarded the train and pulled away from Hollow Creek.

But since that ill-fated stop, fear constantly tickled the edge of her mind. Would she find a family and a bit of happiness?

Chapter 2

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The children pushed and shoved each other vying for a better view of the depot as the train neared the station. In-between the echoes of Hey, watch it or Ow, that hurts, Miss Ames organized her paperwork, getting the applications and instructions in order for couples interested in adopting the children. She glanced up after a particularly loud squeal. N-n-now, children, s-s-stop that, she said over her shoulder, but made no real attempt to discipline them, knowing she couldn’t stop their excitement or nervousness.

Kathleen sat quietly on the bench on the other side of the car. Being a bit older than the others, she just didn’t enjoy the pushing and shoving.