Westward the Dream by Tracie Peterson, Judith Pella Page B

heart of all that threatened to destroy them. They were barely eating and had only the tent to keep them out of the elements, but of late the snows and rains had left them both chilled to the bone and sickly.
    She tried not to complain, and for this Kiernan was grateful. His own conscience defeated him on a daily basis; there was no need for her to add her condemnation.
    â€œWhere are we supposed to find this man?” Victoria questioned, breaking into Kiernan’s thoughts.
    â€œHe’s the town druggist. I’d imagine we should try over there.” He pointed to a false-front building that had crude writing to announce “Medicines, Doctoring, and Help for What Ails You.”
    Victoria pulled her shawl tight around her wool coat. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe they’ll have a fire.”
    Kiernan urged their pack mule forward, praying that he hadn’t once again led them astray. Victoria seemed to sense his mood and reached over to pat his arm.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she said. “There seems to be plenty going on in this town. If this man can’t use your help, you’re bound to find something else just as useful.”
    â€œI hope so.”
    They tied the mule to a crude hitching post, then entered the building and waited a moment while their eyes adjusted to the poorly lighted room. Every imaginable space in the room was taken up with some article. Jars lined the wall behind the counter and were marked with both legible and illegible wording. The counter itself was piled high with a variety of goods, including items of clothing and unmarked bottles of amber liquid, while mining equipment and tools hung on the walls.
    â€œYou lookin’ for something in particular?” a rough voice called out. From behind a curtained doorway, a good-sized man emerged.
    â€œI’d be lookin’ for a gentleman by the name of Strong. I was told he could use help surveyin’.”
    â€œI’m Daniel Strong,” the man replied. “Folks round here generally call me ‘Doc,’ seeing as how I doctor their injuries and prescribe their medicine.”
    Kiernan extended his hand. “I’m Kiernan O’Connor and this is me wife, Victoria.”
    â€œIrish?” Strong questioned.
    â€œAye, I am. She’s not,” Kiernan replied evenly, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that a problem?”
    The man continued to eye them for a moment. “Not at all. Is it a problem for you that I’m not?”
    Kiernan relaxed and smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if it was.”
    Strong laughed. “You both look half froze to the bone. Whereabouts you come in from?”
    â€œWe hiked over from Tahoe City. My mule’s outside with our goods.”
    â€œAnd you came looking for surveyin’ work? You have any experience?”
    â€œAye, that I do,” Kiernan replied. “Me wife’s father helped survey for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. He trained me. I’ve put down rail, blasted tunnels, and mucked out canals. I know a bit about railroads and heard tell ya were thinkin’ to put one through to the East.”
    Doc Strong smiled. “That we are. Why don’t you and the missus come on in the back with me. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
    Kiernan looked at Victoria and gave her a weak smile. At least it wasn’t a rejection. Not yet. He would tell the man about his abilities and pray for God’s hand in the matter. There had to be some manner of decent work for a man such as himself who wasn’t afraid of hard work.
    â€œTed, this young man wants to help us with our railroad,” Doc announced as they entered a small back room.
    A rough-looking table had been set with mugs of coffee and a tray of sweet rolls. Kiernan thought nothing in the world had ever looked better. His stomach growled loudly, but he tried to ignore his own hunger and drew Victoria closer. A man and woman