Riding along the trails outside of Denver was a much-needed change from time spent on a train or sitting in a opera house if Johnny was asked. Distancing themselves from close quarters and crowds of people to do something that felt familiar was therapeutic. Scott decided the three of them needed to spend an extra day in Denver for just this reason. Chicago was the next layover. Scott was certain the city would have much to offer but this view would not be one of them.
“I should write to Murdoch tonight to let him know we extended our stay in Denver. Mail it before we jump back on the train.”
Johnny nodded in agreement.
“I want you to write a note to your grandfather, Freckles. Let him know where we are and the new date we will be arriving in Philadelphia.”
“Hmmmm...yes.”
With her hat pulled down shading her eyes, neither brother could read the face which gave a rather weak response.
“Kinsey, look at me. I said you need to write to your grandfather tonight.”
“Yes Scott, I will.”
“And you did send those postcards from Salt Lake, correct?”
“Yes! I gave them to the gentleman at the head desk. He said he would take care of it.”
Kinsey flashed a smile and encouraged her horse to pull ahead.
Spending the day riding through what he thought was some of the most beautiful scenery he had ever caught sight of - next to the San Joaquin Valley, of course. Following a nice long soak in a hot bath, Scott looked forward to the evening meal and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow they would be boarding the train early for Chicago.
Sipping on a well-deserved beer, Scott watched his brother approach the table, holding the same in his hand with a look of contentment that matched how Scott felt.
“This is beautiful land, Boston. Gonna be hard to leave in the morning.”
“I agree little brother. Wouldn’t mind spending more time here someday.”
And then Scott spotted her coming through the lobby and was brought back to the day Kinsey bounded out of the stagecoach, a blur of auburn curls, petticoats and lace, but this time instead of her hands taking flight they were holding several newspapers.
“Hold on to your beer Johnny. Our little jenny wren is coming in for a landing.”
The boys picked up their beers just in time as Kinsey dropped what looked like every newspaper publication in Denver on to the table while catching her breath.
“You are never going to believe this!”
Still holding his beer in mid-air, Scott stared at the newspapers, raised his eyebrows and looked up at his cousin.
“No truer words have ever been spoken.”
Kinsey sat down and started spreading the newspapers out for the brothers to see.
“Half pint I thought you were going around the corner to mail your grandfather’s correspondence.”
“Yes, that’s when I saw the newspapers. Look! Read what the articles are saying. President Grant is traveling to Chicago!”
Scott grabbed one of the papers and started reading. It was true. Grant would be in Chicago.
A waiter appeared beside Kinsey.
“Miss, may I bring you a drink?”
Kinsey glanced over to Scott who was buried deep into the newspaper.
Quietly responding “Why yes. A glass of champagne would be lovely.”
“Right away, Miss.”
Without looking up from his newspaper Scott snagged the waiter’s arm to bring him a step back to the table.
“Lemonade.”
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“The young lady will be having a lemonade.”
The waiter smiled. “Of course, Sir.”
Johnny spotted the now familiar expression on Kinsey’s face when something wasn’t going her way whole Scott had yet to look up from his paper.
“Looks like there might be a thunderstorm brewing on the horizon, Boston.”
“What a shame little brother. I would hate to send someone to bed without her supper due to that storm.”
Before the first clap of thunder could be detected the waiter arrived back with Kinsey’s lemonade served in a champagne flute. The dark clouds parted with Kinsey’s laughter. Scott glanced up at the waiter and mouthed a silent “thank you”. The waiter winked and was off to his next customer.
Scott folded his paper.
“There’s going to be a larger than normal crowd in Chicago because of Grant’s visit.”
“You can’t be thinking of not going! Scott…it’s President Grant! We have to go. It’s an extraordinary opportunity.”
“I’ll tell you what, Freckles. During dinner you and I will revisit the “Sticking Like Glue” conversation we had when you first arrived and then we will decide. Fair?”
“Yes, fair.”
Over an excellent meal, three glasses of red wine and promises of “sticking to Scott and Johnny like glue” the decision was made. Next stop, Chicago.
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