A Rocky Mountain Christmas

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Pueblo

Adele declared an open house on Christmas Eve. A huge, silver bowl was filled with eggnog, and cookies, fudge, pies, and cakes were laid out on the table beside it. Several of the town’s leading businessmen were present, though she had put out the word earlier the night was to be social only. None of her girls would be available for anything more than friendly parlor conversation.

One of Adele’s girls was playing the piano in the keeping room and a group of carolers, men and women, were gathered around it.

“God rest you merry gentlemen,

Let nothing you dismay,

Remember, Christ our Saviour

Was born on Christmas day,

To save as all from Satan’s power

When we were gone astray.

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy,

O tidings of comfort and joy.”

The Social Club was well decorated for Christmas, with staircase and fireplace mantel festooned with bunting and evergreen boughs. A large tree was decorated with ornaments and red and green rope, as well as candles. The candle flames were shielded by glass globes to prevent the flames from coming into contact with the pine needles.

“This is quite a party you are putting on, Adele.” Charles Matthews was president of the largest bank in Pueblo.

“If you can’t celebrate at Christmas, when can you celebrate?” Adele replied.

“You have certainly gone all out with the food. I don’t believe I have ever eaten so well. So far I’ve had cookies and a piece of cake. I thought I might try a piece of cherry pie as well, if I can find room. But I’m stuffed.”

“I feel a bit guilty,” Adele said. “Here we are surrounded by food, while up at the pass, an entire trainload of people are starving. And that includes Jenny McCoy, bless her heart.”

“Jenny McCoy? She’s on that train? Well, no wonder I haven’t seen her tonight. I figured she would be sitting on a sofa somewhere, holding court with her many admirers.”

“No, she’s been gone for the better part of a week now.”

“Gone to visit someone for Christmas, has she?”

Adele shook her head. “No. Mr. Matthews, are you not aware that she was run out of town by Judge Briggs?”

“Ha! You mean former Judge Briggs, don’t you? He’s in jail now, which is exactly where he should be. And no, I wasn’t aware. What do you mean she was run out of town? Why would that be? From what I know of Jenny McCoy, she has done nothing that would cause her to be run out of town. Why, she wasn’t even one of your girls. Not in the traditional sense. Unless there were certain, uh, special people who could enjoy her favors, of whom I’m not aware. At least, I was never able to do more than have a conversation with her.”

“There were no special people who could enjoy her favors,” Adele said. “For all the time she was here, she remained chaste.”

“Then what happened to cause Briggs to run her out of town?”

“She was hosting the Honorable Lorenzo Crounse, Governor of Nebraska, in the tearoom, when some armed brigands broke in on them. They forced poor Jenny to disrobe, then took a picture of her, sitting nude beside the governor.”

“Uh-oh. That sounds like political chicanery,” Matthews said.

“Yes, I’m sure it was,” Adele said. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Briggs was behind it.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment. Well, he won’t be doing things like that anymore. I expect he is going to spend a long time in jail.” Matthews chuckled. “And here is the interesting thing. A lot of his fellow inmates will be people that he put there.”

“What poor timing. If Briggs had gone to jail a week or so ago, Jenny would be right here, enjoying the party along with the rest of us.” Adele was quiet for a long moment. “Instead she is trapped on that train, starving to death.”

“Well, it’s too late to do anything about her being on that train, but we can certainly make it so she can come back to Pueblo,” Matthews said. “That is, if she wants to. After the shabby way she was treated, she may not even want to come back.”

“You are right about that. Jenny is a young woman with a lot of personal pride and self-confidence. Coming back to Pueblo might be about the last thing she has on her mind. But I think she ought to have to option to come back if she wants to.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know what made Briggs think he could run her off in the first place. But with him no longer on the bench, his order that she be run out of town is certainly without authority now. I tell you what, the mayor is over there. I’m sure he has the authority to vacate Briggs’s order. Especially since Briggs has been removed from the bench.”

“Oh, do you think so?” A smile of hope crossed Adele’s face.

“I not only think so, I’m so sure of it I’ll go ask him right now.”

“I’ll go with you.”

His Honor Mayor C. E. “Daddy” Felker, a man of rather imposing girth, was sitting on the sofa, squeezed between two of Adele’s girls. It was obvious he didn’t mind the closeness, as he had a big smile on his face when Matthews and Adele approached him.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Mayor,” Adele greeted.

“Yes, yes indeed, Merry Christmas,” Felker replied. “What a wonderful party you are throwing tonight.”

“It would be more wonderful if Jenny were here.”

“Oh, that’s right. She was forced to leave town, wasn’t she? Such a shame. She would have been a wonderful addition to the party.”

“She was run out of town by Amon Briggs,” Matthews informed.

“Amon Briggs. What a disreputable character he turned out to be,” Felker said. “I expect we will find that he was involved in a lot more chicanery than we even know about.”

“Mr. Mayor, you could undo some of the evil Briggs did,” Matthews suggested.

“Oh? And how is that?”

“You could vacate his order that Jenny McCoy be banished.”

“Do I have the authority to do that?”

“Who is going to tell you that you don’t? You are the mayor.”

“Yes.” Felker pounded his knee. “Yes, by golly, I am the mayor, aren’t I? You know, I believe I do have the authority to do that.”

“And will you do it?” Adele asked.

“Consider it done, my dear.”

Fifteen minutes later, Adele was at the telegraph office in the Denver and Pacific Depot. “I understand that we have been getting telegrams from the trapped train.”

“Yes, that is true. Mr. Bailey, the conductor, used to be a telegrapher and they have tapped into the wire.”

“Is it possible to send a telegraph to someone on the train?”

“Yes, we have already sent a few. Do you wish to send one?”

“Yes.”

“Who will be the recipient?”

“Jenny McCoy.”

“Jenny McCoy? You mean the young woman who was run out of town?”

“Yes, that is the Jenny McCoy I’m talking about,” Adele said pointedly.

“All right.” The telegrapher picked up a pencil and a pad. “What is the message?”

“Judge Briggs is gone. Mayor Felker says you can come back. I hope that you are willing to do so. And sign it Adele.”

“Very well. I’ll send it,” the telegrapher said.

As Adele left the telegrapher, she heard some carolers singing, and she stopped, just long enough to listen.

“Silent night, holy night

All is calm all is bright

’Round yon virgin Mother and Child

Holy infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace.”

Adele stepped into the narthex of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Despite her profession, she was a very religious woman. Dipping her fingers into the baptismal font, she made the sign of the cross and thought back to when she had asked Father Pyron, the Episcopal priest, if he would accept her in his parish, and if she would be allowed to take the Eucharist.

“And why wouldn’t I allow it?” Father Pyron replied.

“Because I am a prostitute,” Adele said. “Well, I’m not really a prostitute, at least, not any longer. But I’m sure you know that I run a house of prostitution.”

“Have you considered closing it?”

“I have considered closing it. But if I did, where would my girls go? What would they do? They would wind up in cribs somewhere, barely eking out a living. And without my protection, some might even be killed.”

Father Pyron smiled. “You do have a powerful argument for your sin. But it has been suggested that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. ‘She whom Luke calls the sinful woman, whom John calls Mary, previously used the unguent to perfume her flesh in forbidden acts.’ And of course, we know that Mary Magdalene was present at the crucifixion, the burial, and the resurrection. So if Jesus could accept Mary, then who am I to deny you the rite of communion?”

That conversation had taken place two years ago, and Adele had been a regular parishioner ever since.

She walked down to the chancel, genuflected before the cross, then knelt at the rail, crossed herself again, and prayed aloud. “Please, Lord, be with Jenny and all the other poor people trapped on that train. And let her find it in her heart to forgive the town, and return.”

She crossed herself again, stood and genuflected one more time, then left the church. She walked back to the depot, on the chance that Jenny might answer the telegram.

On board the train

When the telegraph began to clatter again, Bailey hurried over to it to write down the message. “Mrs. McCoy. This message is for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who would be sending me a message?”

“It’s signed by the person who sent it,” Bailey said.

Jenny read the message, then felt tears welling up in her eyes.”

“Jenny!” Luke said. He hurried to her. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No. Something is right.” She smiled through her tears and showed the message to Luke. “It’s from Adele, and it looks like we might be able to have that dinner together after all.”

Luke read the message, then embraced Jenny.

“Mr. Bailey, can I send a message back to Adele?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bailey said. “What do you want to send?”

“I want to say, Thank you, Adele, so much for this welcome news. I am sure you had a lot to do with it, and I’m very grateful. And sign it Jenny.”

Bailey translated the message into telegraph speak and sent it on its way.