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They boarded the train for the journey back to the east. All those who had made the journey by horse and wagon were enthralled by the prospect of whistling across the continent as fast as the wind. It would take only four weeks to travel from west to east coast. Nevertheless, they planned to break the journey. As Jesse put it (and had to be reminded that young ladies back East did not say such things) “sitting on a seat for four weeks would make my arse as sore as a new whore’s”. She felt liberated now she had lost her virginity, free to express an understanding of the sexual experiences women underwent – particularly as she had experienced something that few well-bred women in the East were likely to know of. Middle-class wives were not generally expected to provide anal sex to their husbands willingly (though not a few might do so unwillingly).
The engine pulled the carriages slowly at first; there was a steady climb from the coast. Yet within hours it seemed they had travelled vast distances. The trains had none of the luxuries that Mr Pullman was beginning to explore back East, stops were infrequent and all passengers would take the opportunity to vacate their bowels and bladders. Some found they could not wait for the next stop. Men could often be seen admiring the view from the rear car, and watering the ground at the same time; but women, and especially ladies, had not that option. There were occasional accidents but also allowances were made for privacy to piss in a pot which could be dispensed with later. Inexperienced travellers were sometimes shocked at what others were doing until they found themselves in similar need.
On back over terrain which, even if they did not know the exact place, they knew the types of country. Some of the travellers had arrived by boat and were now taking the faster route across the continent; these took great interest in everything they saw, thought themselves quite the great adventurers (and adventuresses), and wondered aloud if they might be attacked by ‘inguns’. This last Jesse happily played on with in giving lurid tales to the daughters of a family travelling with them. She told how the wild savages might attack at any moment and, if they succeeded, would dispatch the men to their doom whilst forcing the girls to do unspeakable things (though here Jesse whispered some of them). Two girls showed they were horrified at the prospect, whilst thirteen year old Melissa appeared enraptured at the thought of being persistently and continually abused until she expired from exhaustion. “What a way to go” she said quietly. Jesse made instant friends with her as she had something akin to the more adventurous spirit that she herself had.
“New Horizon Junction! New Horizon! All disembark for New Horizon!” The conductor made his way down the train carriages making the announcement and the three refugees from that town looked at each other. Clearly Jeb Clinton had been more than successful. He had persuaded the rail company to pass through his town; there was a spur up to Beka Valley, but that town was decreasing, whilst New Horizon was now growing apace (and Jeb made sure he had an interest in every deal); but he had also persuaded them that the this should be an overnight stop. The hotel had been expanded to cope. With no competition the prices could have been higher, but, businessman that he was, Jeb had no intention of making it look too rewarding because then the rail people would build their own.
Cavendish, Marie and Jesse moved slower than the others; Mary was aware of the history but felt sure this would all have been forgotten. She was wrong. Every crony of Jeb Clinton’s knew that if the only man to have got one over on him ever returned, Jeb would want to know. So when the register showed ‘Cavendish Young’ (the railway company was efficient and telegraphed the expected guest list in advance), the manager at the hotel quickly made sure he was the one to get the credit for this information.
Jeb bided his time. It would hardly do to kidnap the two women openly, the rail company wouldn’t appreciate that. But he would have his revenge, he would have that shitty little limey bastard dead. Preferably slowly dead, but definitely dead. And he would have that girl too. He watched the three women walk down the main street from his office. “I wonder who the other one is.” he mused “She looks like she could turn a pricey trick too if I could arrange it” He never was a nice man, but his avaricious nature had got the better of him; the more money he had the more he wanted. No, that wasn’t quite true, it was control he liked. Controlling the town, the workforce, the women.
His wife came in, she had used make-up to hide the worst of the bruise he had given her, but it still showed. “Ah, my dear” he said “You see who has returned to the scene of their crimes?” She looked out and recognised the three, and wondered who the fourth, the other woman, was. “Now perhaps we can learn who betrayed me” she blanched under the rouge, she knew he would beat her again, harder, if he found the truth. So far he only suspected it.
Tempting as it was to renew acquaintances or stroll around the burgeoning town, the four decided discretion made more sense and opted to remain in the hotel for the evening. They needn’t have worried; Jeb Clinton was no shrinking violet to leave well alone. He arrived as they were eating dinner, accompanied by three heavies. “Wellllll, how nice! You’ve come back to visit me. You do know that horse stealing is a hanging offence in this state?” That was him, cards on the table, ‘you ain’t leaving alive; whether I kill you or the law does’
“That’s no way to speak to paying guests Mister Clinton is it?” Jesse responded
“My, the little bitch has learnt to speak for herself has she?” He made a mental note to take that bit of sass out on her when he got the chance.
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