In an America that might have been, two war orphans from a divided nation, one in the north and one in the south, meet across a vast battlefield, striking out to forge a future together in the west. It's 1892, the fourth and bloodiest year of the Ci...
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Inside the box Kay found a stack of paper folded lengthwise. There were documents, receipts, and letters. She pressed them flat on the desktop. On top she found the bill of sale for her family house. It had sold for $12,500 and had been deposited to this bank two years ago in her grandmother's name. It seemed to her to be quite a sum. Next was a certificate from the State of Pennsylvania giving her grandmother custody. Folded together were birth certificates for her whole family, which brought tears, and almost made her stop before she saw the letters at the bottom of the stack.
The paper was cheap and yellow and varied in size, but the handwriting was her father's left-handed scrawl. They were stacked by date.
"My Dearest Rose, I miss you so much," that brought more tears. "The train ride to Denver went well despite some delays. We were held for two days in Selina while they renegotiated passage with the Indian Nations. Something someday must be done about them." He had apparently sent this from Denver. "Equipment and goods are very dear in Denver. It's good that I bought much back East."
Her father had gone west before the war, as had so many, to look for gold and land in the newly opened western territories. But her mother had never been inclined to speak of details or how he had died. With the defeat of Mexico, vast tracts of land lay open in the West, ceded by the Mexicans and Indians, and with the discovery of gold in the mountains every last man jack had hopped on a boat or wagon and had headed west. Then, when they built the railroad, even more went. That was, at least, until the Great War started.
As she read through the letters, her father's story began to take form. She could tell that he was hiding his difficulties. He had joined an "expedition" to the Southern Rockies. She gathered as she read that expeditions were really a dozen or so men who travelled together for safety. And then it was a year before the next letter.
"The land was poor, but we saw trees there as wide as our house, but we had no way to cut them and they would be too big to move even if we could. Some of the fallen ones were hollow and made good houses that winter. No gold to speak of, despite there being thousands trying to find it. The Indians just laugh at us. I am very tired and disappointed."
But then, in the very next letter, he was excited again and ready to head further west, over the Rockies to California. "The passage over the mountains is very difficult we are told. We are camped at Fort Laramie, although some call it Bedlam, with about a thousand others, too many for the available supplies. It's in a beautiful valley with good land. This would be perfect, but we must push on or starve. The soldiers will not allow us to stay because of the treaty. I hope this letter reaches you as I'm not sure I trust them with the mail."
"Our journey through the South Pass went well and was actually very beautiful, with many high waterfalls and meadows. Sacramento is quite big with its own sea-port. I've seen men from China! Their eyes and dress are very strange. They mostly keep to themselves in their own areas of town." Folded in was a newspaper clipping with a drawing of a Chinaman. He had a long thin mustache and a brimless square hat.
