just after Lester McClain arrived back in across the 12,154-foot pass with a bag of incoming mail, the sky above Tin Cup turned gray as pewter and the wind started howling down through the gold hills like something alive. By three that afternoon, when snowflakes as big around as tea cozies started falling, everybody figured they were in for one of those late-spring storms that everybody talked about, the kind that caught everybody unawares, the kind of storm that killed things.
Aaron Brown stood at the window in the Tin Cup town jail, looking out at the snowflakes, thinking this was the last snowfall he would ever see. What part of this is Your purpose, Lord? What’s the point of teaching me humility if I’m not going to be around to be humble? And then for some reason, his mind traveled to Miss Uley Kirkland.
What would it be like, he wondered, to pretend you were a person of a different gender? Why, he wondered, would she do it? Perhaps she concealed some horrible disfigurement somewhere, although Aaron couldn’t imagine where it might be. She looked perfect to him, at least when he overlooked the fact that she was wearing a man’s work pants. She was small, but she was brave, as stout-hearted as anything else that survived in this harsh territory.
She had certainly bested him.
Aaron felt, just then, as if he’d come a far, far piece from home.
* * *
Upstairs, above Ongewach’s Saloon on Washington Avenue, Santa Fe Moll gave her girls their nightly talking-to.
“Moll,” Wishbone Mabel said, “look at it snowing outside. Nobody’s going to come looking for entertainment tonight. Nobody’s going to be able to find this place tonight.”
“Won’t do,” Moll said, narrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head at all of them, “when miners start showing up and you’re all sitting around like you ain’t expecting anybody to be here because of the snow. There you are in calico, that will never do. You must look good, be clean, and smell sweet, just like true ladies. Now get going and get into them silk dresses!”
As they all groaned and moved in the direction of their rooms, Tin Can Laura scanned the place. “Where’s Joe? I don’t see him.”
“He’s probably downstairs in the kitchen, looking for scraps,” Mabel answered. “He always goes down there this time of night.”
Laura gathered her skirts and took the steps running. “Hey, Joe! Hey, kitty! Come on up here!”
Joe, who was due to have kittens just about any day, was the only living thing in the world Laura loved. A saloon patron had given her the calico cat for Christmas back when she’d been a Pitkin girl. Because of Joe, Laura stayed welcome wherever she wanted to go. The mama cat always proved an excellent mouser.
“Snow’s coming heavier,” Cook said as Laura got downstairs. “I’m betting people outside can’t even see where they’re going.”
“One thing’s for certain,” Charles Ongewach commented. “No freight wagon will be coming in over Alpine Pass tomorrow. And wouldn’t you know, McClain was supposed to bring over my new piano. I’ve been lookin’ forward to it ever since that old miner Scheer danced on mine with his hobnailed boots.”
“Judge Murphy won’t make it in, either,” Cook said. “Aaron Brown’s hanging is going to have to wait.”
Laura came up beside them. “Either of you seen Joe? It’s almost time to open up, and I’ve got to lock her in my room.”
“Sure have,” Cook said. “She came down here meowing to get out before the storm started. I let her out the door and ain’t seen her since.”
Laura grabbed her shawl off a hook by the door and draped it across her shoulders. “I’ve got to find her.”
Charles Ongewach donned his coat, too. “Here. Take a rope, Laura. Tie yourself to the building, or you won’t find your way back. I’m right behind you.”
Charles stayed close to the side of the building, feeling his way along the rough-hewn logs until he rounded the corner, calling for the cat at the top of his lungs. Laura started straight out across Washington Avenue, or what she thought was Washington Avenue, with the rope knotted around her waist. In the shelter of the saloon, the gale had seemed overrated. But when Laura reached the street, the icy whorl hit her full in the face. The wind whipped around her, sucking away her breath. Snow pelted her face. Within moments, the shawl covering her head was weighted with ice that clung like molten glass.
Laura struggled on. “Kitty. Joe! Here, kitty.”
As she reached the middle of the street, horses loomed up beside her. At the same time, she heard the doleful cry of a cat. “Joe!” She tried to rush forward, but the rope stopped her. She released the shawl and fumbled with the knot at her bodice. “Joe!”
The knot fell away.
She dropped the rope and rushed toward the sound.
Laura found Joe howling in the middle of the avenue, her stubby fur coated with thin ice. “Joe...” She scooped the frightened animal into her arms and turned toward Ongewach’s.
The snow came stinging from every direction.
She couldn’t see more than six inches in front of her face.
“Charles?” Her words died away in the fierce bray of the wind. Joe struggled against her, clawing at her inside the shawl.
The rope couldn’t be more than five steps in this direction.
She took the steps. But the rope wasn’t there.
She turned once, remembering the horses that had just passed along the street. “Help,” she screamed against the wind. “I cain’t find my way.”
Uley and Sam, on their way home from the mine, kept their horses moving flank to flank, the huge animals snorting over and over again as their nostrils filled with snow. Uley thought she heard someone calling but she couldn’t be sure.
“Don’t think we should stop,” Sam leaned into his horse’s neck for warmth. “No human would be out on this road. You must’ve heard an animal.”
Uley hollered above the wind. “We’re on this road.”
“Guess you’re right.”
“Which way?”
“Don’t disorient your horse,” Sam said. “Rein him in and back him straight up beside me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Very slowly, the horses backed up, obeying the commands of their riders, until Sam felt a hand on his leg. The sound had grown louder now, a young girl crying. “I cain’t find my way. Came out here to fetch this foolish cat.”
She appeared behind and to the left of them, materializing like a vision in the swirling snow. “You one of those girls from Moll’s place?” Sam hollered. But it didn’t really matter who she was. They couldn’t leave her out here to freeze.
She nodded.
“Come on up.”
Sam reached a hand down for her and pulled
