Chapter One #2
“Robert Goodwin, manager of the mine,” the man said, shaking Gunder’s hand in a grip that was firm, but not uncomfortably so. “Where are you from, son?”
“Pittsburgh.”
Mr. Goodwin grinned as his bushy black eyebrows hiked upward. “Pittsburgh? As in Pennsylvania?”
Gunder nodded. “That’s right. Born and raised there.”
“What did you do for work?” Mr. Goodwin asked, crossing his ankles and studying Gunder.
“I was employed at a livery for eight years. I have a letter from Mr. Adamson, my employer, if you’d like to read it.”
“I would, but first tell me why you came to Lovely, and what makes you want to work at the Juniper Point Mine?”
Gunder swung the pack off his back and set it by his feet.
“I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life working at the livery, not that I don’t love working with horses.
Mr. Adamson was a fair and good employer, far better than most. But I want more for my life, and I didn’t see any opportunities to pursue back home.
When I came across an advertisement for Lovely, it stirred my sense of adventure.
I don’t know a thing about mining, sir, but I am a fast learner and a hard worker. ”
“Well, that’s good, because you’ll need to be both of those things if you work here.” Mr. Goodwin held out his hand. “Let’s see that letter you mentioned.”
Gunder took out the letter, which was tucked into an envelope that looked the worse for wear after his journey across the country by train, then stage, and on foot when he decided the stage fare was far more costly than he’d anticipated.
Charlie had found him walking along the road and had taken pity on him, giving him a ride on the last leg of the journey.
Mr. Goodwin read the letter, folded it, and handed it back to Gunder. “Do you have a horse and wagon with you?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Goodwin’s eyebrows raised again, looking like caterpillars inching upward. “How in tarnation did you get here?”
“I took the train as far as I could into Utah, then the stage into Idaho. I started walking when I feared running short of funds, and a freight wagon driver gave me a ride as far as the fork in the road a few miles back. He was headed to Baker City. Is it really only ten miles from here?”
“Yep. It is.” Mr. Goodwin nodded for emphasis, then pointed toward the window that faced the road. “Six days a week, we run wagons back and forth to Baker City, hauling out what the mine produces and hauling back supplies. Do you think you could handle a freight wagon?”
Gunder shrugged and hefted his pack to his shoulder. “Charlie let me drive his quite a bit. I didn’t have any trouble, but I’ve never driven a wagon that big in a busy city. I have driven carriages and small wagons around Pittsburgh, but that’s different than a freight wagon.”
Another nod from Mr. Goodwin. “Mr. Adamson seemed to think you were a fair hand with horses. Tell you what we’ll do.
I’m short a freighter and need someone dependable, and nobody here at the mine seems interested in the job.
Tomorrow, I’ll have you ride with Lars Hoffman, one of the freighters, just to get a feel for things.
If Lars has good things to say and you think you can do the work, we’ll talk about making you the newest Juniper Point Mine freighter.
If you decide this isn’t what you want to do, or Lars doesn’t think you can handle the work, he’ll leave you in Baker City, and we’ll call it even. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, sir. More than fair.” Gunder shook Mr. Goodwin’s hand again. “Is there somewhere in town I can stay the night?”
Mr. Goodwin walked with him outside and pointed to the rows of tents in the distance.
“Most of our miners live in those tents. It’s not bad in the spring or fall, but in the summer, you feel like you’re about to bake, or freeze to death in the winter.
The last one to the far left is empty. You can stay there tonight if you like. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodwin. Where should I report in the morning, and what time?”
“Be ready to go at five. I’ll let Lars know to watch for you. The freight wagons are loaded over there.” Mr. Goodwin pointed to a spot at the base of the hill. “You can meet him there, but don’t be late.”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodwin.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You still need to prove you’re worth hiring.” The man grinned again and slapped him on the shoulder. “If you’re hungry, the cookhouse serves supper at six. I’ll let the cook know to make an extra lunch for you and give it to Lars in the morning.”
“Thank you, sir.” Gunder tipped his head and hustled down the steps until he was back on the road.
He glanced at the tents as he walked past them.
Most had the sides rolled up to allow air to blow beneath the thick canvas.
The furnishings varied, but most of them held a small cot for a bed.
Some had a chair. Others had stacked crates that were used for tables or storage. A few even had small stoves.
While the heat was certainly not needed now, he could only imagine the necessity of the stoves when cold weather set in.
One thing Gunder hated was to be cold. Once his feet got cold, the rest of him quickly followed.
If he did end up staying in the homely town of Lovely, he’d have to start saving his money for a stove, boots that would keep his feet dry, and more clothes than the two shirts and pair of pants he had in his pack.
He’d hoped to earn enough money that he could send some back to his folks every month or two, but would that be the case?
Although he was willing to do most any type of job, Gunder preferred working out in the clean air instead of inside the mountain digging out ore.
If he did get the job, he wanted to learn all about the process of mining.
One thing he’d always possessed was an inquisitive mind.
It was why Mr. Adamson had taught him every aspect of his livery business instead of leaving him to shovel out the stalls every day.
When Gunder reached the last tent on the left side of the road, he folded back the flap and looked inside.
There was a newer-looking cot and an apple crate turned on its side with an empty tin candleholder beside it.
Since it was summer, a candle likely wouldn’t be necessary for a few months, but Gunder added candles, or perhaps a kerosene lamp, to the growing list of things he needed to purchase.
Fearful of someone stealing his pack if he left it in the tent, he kept it with him as he turned and followed the road into town.
He walked the length of Lovely, noticing the rickety shacks that were on the outskirts closest to the miners’ tent city.
One shack sat apart from the others with a barn and a few outbuildings around it.
If he weren’t mistaken, he could hear chickens clucking.
Raucous music being played on an out-of-tune piano in the saloon drifted out to assault his ears. He read the sign painted on the window that advertised drinks, cards, and girls.
Gunder had no interest in anything the saloon offered and kept walking.
He made his way past an assayer’s office, a doctor’s office, and a general store with a sign indicating the post office was located inside.
A few larger houses were on the north end of town, along with a church that stood tall and proud, the paint gleaming white against the backdrop of blue sky, green grass, and trees behind it.
Surprised to see anything green, Gunder walked behind the church to discover a river running there. On either side of it, trees, bushes, and grass made it look like an oasis in a forgotten desert.
Gunder swung off his pack, dropped to his knees, and dipped his hands in the crisp, cool water.
He washed his hands and face, then drank until he was no longer thirsty.
Suddenly eager to be clean, he walked another hundred yards along the river, following it around the curve of the hills until he was shielded from sight of the town, then stripped out of his filthy clothes and took a much-needed bath.
The tiny sliver of soap his mother had sent along was used to scrub his clothes, and then remove the weeks and miles of dirt and sweat he carried.
Although the clothes in his pack were dusty from travel, at least they were mostly clean. Gunder pulled them on, finger-combed his hair, and hoped he looked and smelled better than he had upon his arrival.
He sat on a thick patch of grass in the shade of a cottonwood tree while his clothes dried.
It didn’t take long in the summer heat. Gunder carefully folded them, returned them to his pack, and walked back into Lovely.
He didn’t have a watch, but by the position of the sun, he figured he had about an hour before dinner would be served at the mine.
Gunder noticed the largest of the houses near the church had a “Boardinghouse” sign tacked to one of the porch posts. By far, the three-story house was the biggest building in town. He drew in a breath tinted with the scent of roasting meat and yeast, and his stomach growled in response.
Knowing he would get a meal soon, he stopped by the blacksmith shop. If things didn’t work out at the mine, perhaps the blacksmith would have work for him.
“Howdy, stranger,” said a hulking man with a thatch of unruly dark hair on his head and smallpox scars on his face. He lowered the hoof of the horse he’d just been shoeing, then wiped his hand on the stained leather apron he wore. “What brings you to Lovely?”
“A job, I hope,” Gunder said, and shook the man’s hand. “I found a newspaper clipping about Lovely being a place to find your fortune and future. It mentioned plenty of jobs at the Juniper Point Mine, so here I am. I admit, the town is nothing like I expected.”