Prologue
There aren’t many things I could say about myself to give you a glimpse of who I am. I’m plain. Quite plain, actually. I have plain brown hair, and plain brown eyes, and a plain nose. I’m average height, average weight. My name is even plain. Jane. That’s all. Plain Jane. Most of the people who know me would describe me just the way I have. They would say, "Oh Jane? Why, there’s nothing very special about Jane." And they really truly view me that way. In high school, I got average grades – Bs and Cs. In college, I had a plain, boring major, and upon graduation – without honors – I obtained a plain, boring job. I sit in my windowless cubicle, day in and day out, entering numbers into a database. Like I said. It’s boring. And plain.
It’s not like I don’t have exciting friends. One of the girls in my high school class moved to Hollywood after high school. She hasn’t been in any movies yet, but at least she’s out there, living an exciting life. And my friend Nathan? He’s a photographer in New York. He’s taken pictures of supermodels and everything.
I, on the other hand, live in a small, plain town in the Midwest. There is nothing in the landscape except flat, grass covered land. It’s all brown. Oh, some people, when they are trying to be romantic and make everything seem less plain than it is, call it golden. But it is brown. The plainest color in the spectrum. Have you ever met anyone who says their favorite color is brown? They even discontinued the brown M&Ms because they were too plain.
I know, I’m probably boring you. My life isn’t that exciting, and you probably don’t want to hear about it. I know I wouldn’t if I was you. But the events of the past few months have inspired me to write my story down. So even if you never want to read it – and if you don’t, I will understand – I will feel better just for having written it down.
I guess the best place to start, as they say, is at the beginning. See, it all started when my dad got sick. He was in and out of the hospital rather frequently, and I started driving home every weekend to spend time with him.
Chapter One
"Mom, I’ll be leaving right after work this afternoon. I should be there around eight. How’s dad?" I was always relieved when Mom could tell me that Dad was doing fine. This week he was home and doing well for a change. It looked like I wouldn’t be making a trip to the hospital, so that was good.
"All right, Mom, I will see both of you tonight. Tell Dad that I love him." I had to rush out the door, or I would be late for work.
By eight o’clock, I was settled into my cubicle and had my computer on. I started the same way I did every other day, running the reports from the day before. Before long, I was pecking away at the keyboard, entering my numbers. Sure, I got to enter the occasional consonant or vowel, but mostly it was just numbers. Number after number after number. After number. By noon, the numbers are running together until I can’t tell one from another.
Oh, I know I’m making my job sound rather dreary and dull. It’s not, not really. Sure, I spend most of my time inputting numbers, but it’s not all mindless work. I have to think about what I’m doing, making sure I put the numbers into the right columns and everything. It’s…oh, I’m not fooling you at all. My job is dreary and dull. There isn’t a day that goes by that I can’t help thinking, "I went to college for this?"
But this isn’t telling my story. As I said, that Friday, by noon, all the numbers were running together. I had some vacation time built up, so I decided to take half a day and leave the office at lunch. I had never done that before, so it was exciting for me. I know, I know, but like I said, I am a plain person. Leaving before five o’clock on a Friday is the most excitement my life gets.
My parents weren’t expecting me until eight o’clock, and it was only a three hour drive to their house. What could I do with the remaining five hours in my day? Well, I would start by getting something to eat. I bypassed my usual diner in favor of a fast food drive-through and decided to eat while I drove. I left my small town, catching the highway about half an hour out and headed in the direction of my parents’ town. I had always wanted to stop at the Pony Express station in Rock Creek. As a child, I loved to read books about the Express and it’s riders, and the old West. I dreamed of cowboys and adventure – the type of adventure that could only be found in the wilds of the untamed West. My life may have been plain, but, deep down, I longed for adventure. I had never stopped in Rock Creek because it was always dark when I drove through, so today, I would. I would explore every single inch of the Express property and pretend I really was there. For one afternoon, I would no longer be Plain Jane. I would be Jane, adventurer, cowgirl, beautiful and strong.
I pulled my car into the parking lot, laughing to myself at my imaginations. Here I was, imagining myself in the old west, and I was pulling into a parking lot at a Pony Express station! This was history at its finest.
I decided to visit the museum first, to get a feel for what life was like for the riders. I walked through, looking at pictures and reading about the Express and how it was run. A typical day at the station was nothing like I had expected it to be. For example, most stations didn’t have riders living there. They were just stops on the way, run by one station master who would make sure the horses were saddled and waiting for the next rider. Each rider would have one minute to change horses and be on his way again. The riders were a lot like the modern day postal workers. They were required to ride through rain, snow, sleet, hail, day, night, Indian war parties, whatever got in their way. They were not even allowed to stop to help other people who might need it along the trail. If they stopped, if they were not to the next station on time, if they lost any mail, they could be fired.
Upon hiring, the Express rider took an oath. I would be lying if I said I didn’t stand there and read it to myself, pretending I was really taking the oath.
I do hereby swear, before the Great and Living God, that during my engagement, and while I am an employee of Russell, Majors & Waddell, that I will, under no circumstances, use profane language, that I will drink no intoxicating liquors, that I will not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as to win the confidence of my employers. So help me God.
Life was so much more exciting then.
After I had walked through the museum, I headed outside to the grounds where they had begun rebuilding the station. There was nobody else around, so it was easy to lose myself in it all. I spent almost an hour in the barn, pretending there were horses in there, and it was my job to feed and brush them all. I spent another hour in the bunkhouse, as small as it was, imagining that I was part of every day life there. I laughed to myself as I thought about what everyone who knew me would think of that. They would be shocked, that is for sure.
I was so lost in my imaginings that when I looked at my watch, I realized I had better hurry or I would be late getting to my parents’ house. I didn’t want to give them undue cause for worry, so, as much as I hated to leave this place, I knew I needed to immediately.
I was rushing back to the parking lot, still lost in my dreams. What I would give to have been a part of it all. This was history, and these people would be forever remembered for their contribution to it. A hundred years from now, what contribution would I have made to history? With my plain life, a hundred years from now, I dare say, not one person would remember me. Even if I had descendants, they would skip right over me in the family genealogy.
By now you are probably wondering if, up to this point, I had ever had anything exciting happen to me. I can honestly say I hadn’t, unless you count that one time the lights went out in the elevator for a couple seconds. But I’m getting to the exciting part, I promise. In fact, it happens right about now.
See, I was in such a hurry going back to my car, but I should have known better than that. I have always been quite a clumsy person. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I tripped over the root in the middle of the path. And I honestly wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time I had found myself on the ground in an embarrassing situation. What really surprised me was when I hit the ground was how much hitting my head hurt. I didn’t have time to reflect on it though, because as soon as I hit the ground, everything went black.
Chapter Two
The first thing I was aware of when I opened my eyes was that the sunlight streaming through the window was blinding me. The second thing I was aware of was that there was a window. I was no longer outside. Opening my eyes wider, I looked around. I was in a bedroom. The walls were white, and white muslin curtains hung at the window. The bed in which I was laying was made up with white muslin sheets. That was strange. I didn’t think they used muslin to make sheets anymore. Anyway, the stark whiteness of the room was softened by the pastel colors of the quilt that covered me – pinks, blues, greens and yellows were stitched together in an intricate pattern. Next to the bed on one side, against the corner of the room was a small table. It held a lamp. I guessed the people who lived in the house must be into antiques, because the lamp was obviously very old. It looked like an oil lamp – the real thing, not those replicas you can buy at Walmart. I was quite puzzled though, because it didn’t look like there was any electric light in the room. Maybe this was a bed and breakfast near the express station that tried to create a historical ambiance. On the other side of the bed was a straight-backed chair. Across the room, under the window, was a wooden stand with a large pitcher and bowl on top. It looked like an old fashioned wash stand.
Finally, I could just barely see the edge of a trunk at the foot of the bed. I crawled to the edge of the bed to get a better look at the trunk. It was a dark wood, cherry or mahogany perhaps, and was hand carved. I could just make out the initials carved into the top, worn and faded with age – R.F. My clothes – khakis and a lavender blouse – were folded neatly and placed on one end of the trunk. My shoes – brown slip-ons – neatly sat on the floor beside the trunk. I was wearing a white cotton nightgown, with long sleeves and green ribbon trim on the yoke and wrists. I usually wore shorts and a T-shirt to bed, so the nightgown was uncomfortable. I absently reached up to scratch my neck, where the collar of the nightgown was rubbing as I replayed the events of the afternoon in my mind. I still had a slight headache from when I bumped my head, but all in all, I felt fine. I should probably find whoever owned this place and them and see if they could give me a ride back to my car at the express station. I would call home from my cell phone, which was locked into my car along with my purse, and let Mom know I was running late. And I was starving. I’d have to do fast food for supper too, I guess.
I quickly changed back into my clothes and opened the door to the room. My hair could use a good brushing, but I had to be content with running my fingers through it, doing my best to get the tangles out. I reached into the pocket of my pants and was glad to find a ponytail holder. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail at the nape of my neck as I walked out the door.
I paused outside the bedroom to get my bearings. There was a closed door to my left and stairs to the right. I could hear faint sounds coming from downstairs, so that’s where I headed. At the bottom of the stairs, I found myself at an entry way, the front door before me. To the left was a living room – complete with sofa and high back chairs around a low table. To the right was a doorway, and it was beyond that door that I could hear people talking. I took a deep breath and walked into the room. Eight people were sitting around a table, and as I walked in, they all turned to look at me.
*************************************************************
As I just said, there were eight people at the table. I knew this because in the silence that followed my entrance I had time to count them – twice. Most of the occupants of the table just stared at me, but the woman who sat at the head smiled as she stood up to introduce herself.
I was immediately struck by her attire. She wore a low cut blouse and long skirt, and her hair was pinned up. Looking around the table, I could see the men were dressed equally as strangely. I had no time to reflect on that though, as the woman started speaking to me.
"You look much better."
"Thank you, ma’am," I replied. "I’m grateful to you for taking care of me."
"That was a pretty nasty fall you took," the woman answered me. "How are you feeling?"
"I’m all right," I said. "I still have a bit of a headache, but I’ll make it."
"You hungry?" the woman asked. "We were just sitting down to supper."
"Oh, I couldn’t impose. If someone could just bring me back to my car, I’ll be on my way. My parents are expecting me."
"Cody," the woman turned toward the table, addressing one of the people sitting there. "Was there a horse and cart where you found…" she turned back towards me.
"Jane," I supplied feebly, puzzled as to why she was asking about a horse and cart.
"…where you found Jane?" she finished.
"Nope. Musta been spooked," a blonde man spoke up.
"Were you thrown when your horse was spooked?"
"What?" There was something seriously wrong going on here. Something told me to play along though. "I…I don’t really remember. But that’s probably what happened." I wondered if my words sounded as lame to them as they did to me.
"Well, it’s too dark to search for your horse tonight," the woman said. "You’re welcome to stay here, and Buck will track it down for you tomorrow."
"If you don’t mind my asking," I said, anxious to figure out exactly what was going on, "where exactly is ‘here’?"
"Oh, this is the Rock Creek Pony Express Station," the woman answered. "Here, sit down. Let me get you a plate. Boys, introduce yourselves," she commanded, slipping through the door into the kitchen.
I took the seat the woman – whose name I still didn’t know – had indicated and looked around the table expectantly. The silence was almost palpable as each of the boys looked at each other, trying to decide who would go first. Finally the blonde that the woman had addressed as Cody spoke up.
"I’m William F. Cody," he reached across the table to shake my hand. "You can call me Cody though. Everyone else does."
"I’m pleased to meet you, Cody," I smiled, but my head was swimming. William F. Cody? Had I tripped and fallen right into the nut house? Well, maybe he worked here. There were places like that, where the workers pretended to be real historical characters. I’d know I had really lost it if the next person introduced himself as Wild Bill Hickok.
Chapter Three
Well, there was no Wild Bill Hickok there that night. The rest of the young men introduced themselves as Buck Cross, Ike McSwain – well, actually, Ike didn’t talk, so Buck introduced him – Noah Dixon, Lou McCloud, and Kid. Yeah, I had to fight the urge to laugh too. These people were just too much. I also learned the woman’s name was Rachel Dunne. I hadn’t gotten the nerve to ask exactly what kind of place this was yet; I didn’t want to seem like a complete idiot. Maybe once I figured all this out I could blame my confusion on the bump on my head.
Dinner was a noisy affair. The boys kept asking me questions, and I tried my best to answer, but it was hard because I wasn’t sure how much to reveal.
"So, Jane, where are you from?" Noah asked me.
"Kansas," I replied. "But my parents moved a couple hours north of here about three years ago."
"Kansas? That’s where Jimmy’s from," Cody proclaimed.
"Jimmy?"
"Oh, he’s on a run right now. He’ll be back tomorrow," Kid explained.
"A run?" Oh Lord, I really was sounding like a loon, wasn’t I?
"Yeah. A mail run. We all ride for the Express." This time it was Buck who spoke.
"The Express?" Oh, God, why was I repeating everything they said?
Thankfully, I was spared further embarrassment as the door opened and a grizzly older man walked in. He was wearing a tan coat with a fur-trimmed collar and a black hat – a Stetson? Okay, I honestly don’t know if it was a Stetson. That was just the only kind of cowboy hat I knew of. A silver marshal’s badge was pinned to the lapel of his jacket. Great – another one of them. I just wanted to be around some normal people.
"Why, hello ma’am," he tipped his hat at me. "I would have been on time if I known we was having company."
"Jane, this is Teaspoon Hunter. He’s the marshal of Rock Creek. Teaspoon, this is Jane. She was thrown from her buggy when her horse spooked. Cody found her unconscious this afternoon," Lou spoke up.
"It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hunter."
"Call me Teaspoon, ma’am," Teaspoon said, taking his seat at the foot of the table and starting to pile his plate with food. "Are you feeling all right now?"
I nodded. "Just a slight headache is all."
"Boys, did you happen to see the newspaper today?" Teaspoon asked, swallowing a bite of roast.
"I heard they caught Killer Miller," Buck said.
"That’s right, but that’s not what I was referring to. Seems the Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina a couple weeks ago."
"It’s just a matter of time before all the southern states secede," Noah spoke. "After this, it’s inevitable."
I stared at them in amazement. They were carrying this reenactment thing a bit too far. But then, an incomprehensible thought hit me. I reviewed what I knew about this place so far – the lack of electricity, the boys who claimed to be Pony Express riders, the way everyone was dressed, all the serious talk about a war that had been over for a hundred and thirty-five years. It just couldn’t be. But these people were not acting; they were quite serious.
"Oh, God," I breathed to myself. "I have a feeling I’m not in Kansas anymore."
**************************************************
I headed to bed right after supper, claiming a persistent headache – which was true, but it wasn’t due to my fall. Teaspoon’s paper had listed the date as May 5, 1861, and I just couldn’t deny it anymore. The fall, the bump on my head, somehow I had become delusional or something. I would believe I was dreaming, but was it possible to have a splitting headache in a dream?
It took me a while to fall asleep. I mean, it would have taken you a long time too, if you were in my place. But I finally did fall asleep, and before I knew it, the sunlight streaming in my window was waking me up yet again. I heard a commotion in the yard and walked to the window in time to see Cody, on a horse, take some kind of leather bag – the mochila most likely – from another man and take off toward the east.
The new man had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face. He had long, dark hair, covered by a black hat, and he was dressed in black pants and a tan canvas jacket. That must be Jimmy. I turned away from the window, figuring I might as well get dressed and face the day. If I was gonna be stuck in 1861, I sure was gonna make sure I enjoyed it. This was the Old West I had always dreamed of. I was actually here!
I started making a mental list of all the things I wanted to do – learn to ride, learn to shoot, learn to cook on a wood burning stove – as I slipped into the dress Rachel had brought me the night before. I knew it had to be Lou’s. It was much too small for Rachel, and I had seen her take Lou aside last night, obviously trying to talk her into something. I would have to find a way to let Lou know that I know she’s a girl. She and I could be good friends, I think. I laid my nightgown over the trunk, which I now knew was Rachel’s. Her maiden name was Flynn, thus the initials in the top.
I would have to figure out what I was going to tell everyone about myself before I saw any of them this morning. There was no way Buck was going to find my ‘horse and cart’, and what if they insisted I send a message to my parents? It’s not like I could go to the Pony Express station and pretend to mail them a letter! So the question was, should I tell them the truth, or should I try to come up with a believable story?
I decided to tell them that I had been visiting a friend south of here and was on my way home when the horse spooked. That sounded believable enough. As for my parents, well, I wasn't really sure what to do there. I had already told everyone that they were expecting me. Oh, well, if I had to, I could say I lied, in case they were criminals, to make them think somebody was going to come looking for me. My parents weren't really expecting me for at least another week. That would buy me time.
Yes, I know the story isn't really plausible - but it's certainly more believable than "Well, I was walking, and I tripped and hit my head. When I woke up, I was here - one hundred and forty years in the past." They'd have me committed for sure.
My mind made up, I went downstairs. Rachel was making breakfast. Figuring this was my chance to get started on my list of things to learn, I offered to help.
"I'd appreciate that," Rachel smiled at me gratefully. "I'm running a bit behind this morning, and the boys will be in and ready for breakfast in about twenty minutes." She looked up from where she was stirring the gravy. "Do you cook?"
"A little. I haven't had much experience," I admitted. The truth was, I loved to cook - on my gas stove, with temperature control and a timer.
"Can you fry eggs?"
"Sure," I replied. That couldn't be too hard, could it?
Rachel took the last of the sausage from the skillet, and I began to crack the eggs into it. I had always fried eggs in butter instead of grease, but as long as they didn't stick to the pan, I didn't care. I watched the eggs carefully, turning them at just the right moment and sliding them from the pan onto a plate. By the time the boys came trooping through the door, Rachel and I had heaping platters of eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy set out.
There was a general sense of chaos as everyone gathered around the table. Things quieted down when Rachel asked Kid to say grace, but as soon as he said, "Amen," the noise started again. The riders began to grab for the food, passing platters and bowls back and forth across the table. Five different conversations were going on at once as Kid and Lou, Buck and Ike, and Noah and Jimmy each talked with each other, all the while talking with the other riders too. Rachel winked at me across the table, and I had to concentrate on my plate to keep from laughing. I was concentrating so hard on my food, that I failed to notice when everyone at the table stopped talking. Finally, aware of the silence, I looked up to find everyone looking around uncomfortably, avoiding my eyes. Only Jimmy was looking at me - or staring at me, I should say.
"Who are you?" he finally asked.
"Jimmy," Rachel’s voice came in warning, but neither of us heard her.
Jimmy’s piercing stare was unnerving to me, and I quickly looked down again, pulling myself together before answering his question. I had to stick to the story I had come up with, keeping all the facts straight, or they would get suspicious. There would be too many questions otherwise, questions that I didn’t have the answers to myself.
"I’m Jane," I replied. "My horse spooked and knocked me from the buggy yesterday, and Cody found me." I looked straight at him, almost daring him to question my story.
"Speaking of that," Rachel broke the silence that followed my explanation, "Buck you’ll need to hurry if you’re gonna track her horse today." She turned to me. "We should probably get a message to your parents, Jane. They’ll probably be worried that you didn’t come home last night."
"Actually," I gave her what I hoped was an apologetic smile. "I lied to you all last night when I told you they were expecting me home. They aren’t expecting me for another week or so, and they are actually in St. Louis right now, for their anniversary." Now why did I add that last part? "I’m sorry, everyone. I just wasn’t sure if I could trust you, and well, I wanted you to think that if anything happened to me, somebody would be along looking for me soon."
"That was probably smart," Noah pointed out.
"Well, you are going to stay here until your parents get home," Rachel stated.
"Oh, I couldn’t do that," I protested. "It would just be extra work for you."
"Nonsense," Rachel spoke firmly. "I won’t notice one more person around. Besides, it will be nice to have another woman around."
I smiled at that. I could tell Rachel and Lou were good friends, but Lou looked about seventeen, and Rachel was closer to my age. Actually, looking around the table, I could tell that all the riders were rather young – not more than eighteen or nineteen at the most. Except Jimmy. He was in his early twenties - twenty-one or twenty-two at least. I knew that the Pony Express didn’t hire anyone over eighteen, so he must have lied to get his job.
After breakfast, the boys and Lou headed outside to do their daily chores, and I helped Rachel clean up. When the dishes were done, she suggested I head outside and get to know my way around the station. I found all the boys gathered around the corral, where Ike was on a horse. It was bucking like the broncos do in the rodeos, and I found myself watching fascinated. I cheered right along with the rest of them as Ike managed to stay on the horse through all it’s bucking, and gasped aloud when he was thrown. For a minute, I stood there, worried, but he just jumped up and ran to the fence as Jimmy and Kid moved in and got hold of the horse.
"Good going, Ike," Noah called. "You almost had him that time."
"Who’s up next?" Lou asked, grinning mischievously. "Want me to give it a try?"
"No." Kid spoke up quickly. "I’ll do it."
Lou laughed, and I could tell she had expected that answer. She quieted suddenly, and I glanced over to see her looking at me. She had forgotten I was there. I decided it was time to have a talk with her. Now that I was going to be staying at the station until I could figure out how to get home, I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable and having to constantly watch how she acted for no reason.
"Hi, Lou," I stood beside her, keeping my eyes on the corral, where Kid was mounting the horse carefully.
"Hi, Jane," Lou spoke, making her voice deep.
"Um," gees, this was hard. How do you tell someone ‘Hi, I know you’re pretending to be a boy, but it’s obvious you’re a girl.’?
"Yeah?" Lou asked, looking puzzled…and a little frightened.
"Um," I guess I should just blurt it out. "I just wanted to tell you that I know, well…" I paused awkwardly. So much for just blurting it out. "I just wanted to tell you that I know you’re a girl." There.
Lou’s eyes widened, and nervousness showed on her face.
"Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone," I said quickly. "I think it’s great that you are doing this, and that everyone here accepts you." I wished I could tell her how one day it would be illegal for anyone to deny her a job just because she was female, but for now all I could do was reassure her that I would keep her secret.
"Thank you," Lou said softly, giving me a small smile.
"So," I grinned. "Why was Kid so adamantly against you trying to break that horse?"
"Oh, Lord," Lou laughed. "Where do I start?
Chapter Four
For the rest of the day, I just knew that at any moment somebody would ask me a question that I couldn’t answer, and they would all know I was lying. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them the truth, but I knew there was no way they’d believe it. So I just answered any questions the best that I could, and by supper time, they seemed to have moved on to new things.
The big topic at supper was the dance the town was hosting the next day. Some of the boys had dates, and they spoke excitedly of their plans. Even Lou was excited, explaining to me that Teaspoon had arranged for her and Kid to have some time off. They planned to spend a romantic weekend in a small town not too far away, since Lou couldn’t go to the dance as a girl.
"What about you Jimmy," Kid asked. "Did you get Maryanne Simmons to go to the dance with you?"
"Didn’t ask her," came Jimmy’s good-natured reply.
"Why not. Did you chicken out," Buck joined in the teasing.
"Naw," Jimmy seemed used to the teasing. "Willy Denton asked her first."
"Well, I am going with Katherine O’Mally," Cody said. "She’s only the prettiest girl in town."
"How’d you get her to go with you then?" Jimmy turned the attention from himself. "Did you blackmail her?"
"I’ll have you know she was happy that I asked her," Cody said indignantly.
"She must not know him very well yet," Noah joined in. "He’ll escort her to the dance, but the real question is, will he escort her home."
The boys all burst out laughing while Cody sat there trying to look glum. But he couldn’t resist their merriment long, knowing that they were only teasing him, and soon he was joining right in.
***********************************************
The next day dawned bright and clear, with the promise of a beautiful evening for the dance. The boys all rushed through breakfast and their morning chores, anxious to finish in time to pick up their dates for dinner before the dance. Kid and Lou left right after breakfast, promising to be back in a couple days.
Jimmy approached me as I was carrying wood to the house for Rachel. "Hi Jane," he said, taking the wood from me. "Let me help you with that."
"Thanks," I smiled. "It’ll go faster with two people carrying it." I piled some more wood into his arms, then picked up all I could carry and we walked back toward the house.
"Um, Jane," he stopped right outside the back door. "I was wondering, if, well, that is if you want to, if you would go to the dance with me tonight?"
He looked incredibly relieved to have finally asked the question, and for the first time I saw that Jimmy Hickok wasn’t as tough as he tried to appear. Underneath his hardened shell was a man who was very much unsure of himself.
"I’d like to Jimmy, but I don’t have a dress to wear." Inside, my heart leaped at the thought that Jimmy wanted to go to the dance with me. Here was this famous law man, and he wanted to take plain old me to the dance!
He’s not a famous law man yet, Jane a little voice reminded me. It didn’t matter though. He would be famous one day, and the point was, he was asking me to the dance. And I didn’t have a dress, or any money to buy one.
"Actually," Jimmy blushed. Now this was amazing. Wild Bill Hickok himself, blushing? "I already talked to Rachel about that, and she thinks she can fix up something of Lou’s for ya."
"Are you sure Lou won’t mind?" I hated to borrow one of her dresses, especially if Rachel would need to alter it in any way, without asking first.
"If she does, I’ll buy her a new one when she gets back," Jimmy grinned. "Come on Jane, please?"
Now this was definitely too much. Not only was he asking me to the dance, he was practically begging me to go with him. Well, how can a girl turn that down?
"I’d love to go then Jimmy, thank you," I smiled at him. "Um, I just have one question though."
"What’s that?" Jimmy looked incredibly happy that I had agreed to go with him. This whole thing was just getting more and more amazing.
"How are we gonna get this door open?"
Jimmy looked from me to the door, puzzlement showing on his face. I could tell he hadn’t thought of that any more than I had, and now here we stood, our arms full of wood, looking at the door like a couple of fools.
"Here, pile your wood on top of mine so your hands will be free," Jimmy suggested.
"Are you sure it won’t be too much for you?" I asked worriedly, already knowing the answer. Every guy I knew in my own time, a time of equality and being "in touch with your emotions" would never admit to a girl that he couldn’t do something. I had no doubt that guys in 1861 were any different.
"Don’t worry, I can handle it," Jimmy said confidently. See what I mean? I piled all my wood onto his and opened the door for him to go through. I was having a hard time to keep from laughing as he walked into Rachel’s kitchen. He was bent over backwards, walking really slow while trying to balance the wood in his arms, which was piled almost to his eyes. There was no way he could see much more than the ceiling and top of the walls.
"Jimmy, watch out for that…" It was too late. The loud clatter of the wood hitting the floor drowned out the curses coming from the figure buried beneath it, but there was no mistaking what he was saying.
"James Hickok, you watch that mouth of yours," Rachel stood in the doorway, scolding him, and, like me, trying her best not to laugh.
Jimmy slowly stood up, his face red as a beet.
"Um, I’d better go finish my chores," he stammered, quickly piling up the spilled wood and rushing out the door. As soon as the door closed behind him, Rachel and I let out the breath we had been holding and burst out laughing.
"Oh my," I gasped, holding my side. "Is it always like this around here?"
"Pretty much," Rachel’s eyes twinkled with laughter. "We tend to live in general chaos, but I wouldn’t have it any other way."
************************************
That afternoon, Rachel brought Lou’s dress up to my room for a fitting. She also brought a corset and petticoats to go with it. I had, of course, never worn a corset before, and I found that it was incredibly uncomfortable. No wonder women finally rebelled. Actually, I was rather surprised that Rachel hadn’t mentioned the clothes I was wearing when they found me, since I knew they weren’t in any style of that period. But I figured she was just used to Lou dressing like a boy, so she wasn’t too surprised to find that I wasn’t wearing a corset or a dress. And the cut of my clothes were similar enough to pass, I guessed. Compared to the corset, I found the petticoats weren’t so bad, although having so much material around my legs was a bit distracting. At least it was only April, so it was rather cool out. There was no way I would survive in the summer.
Luckily, the dress fit almost perfectly. I really would have felt bad if I had to ruin Lou’s dress.
"There," Rachel arranged the last fold of the skirt. "Jimmy’s eyes are gonna pop right out of his head when he sees you.
"I doubt that," I protested, although not very fervently. Honestly, when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe what I saw. I mean, I was still plain, but less so than normal. The dress with blue, with white lace adorning the neckline and sleeves, and it really did look good on me. I usually wore neutral colors. Maybe if…no, when…I got home, I would add some more color to my wardrobe.
Anyway, the dress fit, and after supper, Jimmy and I walked over to the dance together.
Chapter Five
The dance was quite unlike anything I had ever seen. The dresses the girls wore were not the huge hoop skirts I was used to seeing in the movies, but there was more than enough frills and lace to make up for it.
The music had already started by the time Jimmy and I got there, and as we walked into the town hall, we were greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors as the dancers spun around the room. Jimmy took my shawl for me and soon returned.
"Well, shall we dance?" He held out his hand to me, and together we walked onto the dance floor.
Remember when I said I was clumsy? Well, just image a person who can barely walk and talk at the same time trying to move in time to music, fast music, while attempting to avoid stepping on another pair of feet, feet that were awfully close mind you. Needless to say, I wasn’t very successful, and by the time we had bumped into the third couple passing us, I could tell Jimmy had had enough.
"I’m sorry," I apologized. "I’m not a very good dancer."
"I can see that," Jimmy’s eyes twinkled in teasing. "Why don’t we go outside. We can still hear the music there, and you can learn the steps without having to worry about the other dancers."
"That sounds good," I replied, relieved. We walked out the back door of the hall and stood in the shadows cast by the building. Just enough light came through the windows to help us see, and we could hear the music almost as well as inside the hall.
"All right, let’s try this again," Jimmy grinned, holding his hands out to me. This time we were more successful. I could concentrate more on the steps since I didn’t have to worry about bumping into other dancers.
We stayed outside for a while, both of us glad to be away from the crowd inside the dance. After about three songs, the band changed from the fast paced polka beat to a slower waltz. Not really up to learning a new dance at this point, I suggested we take a walk instead.
"That is, if you can still walk," I grinned. "I think I’ve stepped on your feet so many times, you’ll be limping for a month."
"Maybe just a week or so," Jimmy teased, walking with an exaggerated limp. "Actually, you didn’t step on them that much."
We walked in silence for a while, neither of us quite sure how to start the conversation. All I knew about Jimmy Hickok before today was what I had read in the history books, and I was quickly finding out that the man beside me was a very different man than the one I had read about. Finally we reached the edge of town opposite the Express station, and settled down on the steps to the boardwalk.
"Jimmy," I began hesitantly, not really sure I had a right to ask. But I needed to know. "I have to admit, I’ve heard all the things written about you." I paused as I saw his eyes darken in frustration. "I’ve heard them all, but I just can’t seem to identify them with you. You seem so different than they say."
"That’s because they are a pack of lies," Jimmy muttered angrily.
"I’m sorry," I quickly apologized. "I shouldn’t have said anything." Now I had made him mad and probably ruined the whole evening.
"No, it’s all right, Jane," he looked at me sadly. "I mean, you haven’t treated me as if you believed the stories at all, so I’m not mad at you. It’s just that most people think I’m ‘Wild Bill’," he spat out the name in disgust. "I have to admit, when I first joined the Express, I probably would have enjoyed the reputation, but I quickly learned what it is like to kill a man. There’s no honor or glory in calling a man out, no matter how much he deserves it or what he’s done to you, and even though it has to be done sometimes, I’ve never enjoyed it. All I want to be is Jimmy Hickok, but I’ll never get to do that. Because of Marcus, I’m always going to be Wild Bill."
He smiled apologetically. "I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a night for us to have fun, and here I am complaining about my fate."
"Don’t apologize, Jimmy Hickok," I said sternly. "It’s good to talk about these things sometimes."
"You are a very beautiful person, Jane," Jimmy blurted suddenly.
"What?" I was speechless. "No I’m not. I’m just plain."
"Beauty isn’t only outside appearance. I mean, you don’t see me how everyone else sees me. You see the real me, because you don’t judge people based on their reputation, you judge them based on themselves. Nobody else has ever been that way, except for my family, you know Teaspoon, Rachel, Lou and the boys, and to me that makes you beautiful." Jimmy blushed.
"Thank you, Jimmy," I said softly, not really sure what else to say. Nobody had ever told me I was beautiful before, well, other than my parents, but that was their job.
"Well, come on," Jimmy suddenly stood up and held out his hand for me to join him. "The dance will be over soon, and I should probably get you home."
As I stood up, we found ourselves standing face to face on the step. I know it sounds hokey, but time really did stand still as Jimmy lowered his lips to mine. It wasn’t a history making kiss as far as kisses go. It was gentle and sweet, not at all the type of kiss you’d think a girl would get from Wild Bill Hickok, but Jimmy and Wild Bill had become two separate people – one real, one made up – for me during the course of our conversation.
As quickly as the kiss started, it was over – or maybe it was a really long kiss, but since time seemed to stand still, it just seemed short, I don’t know – and Jimmy smiled shyly at me.
"Come on, if we get back to the station soon, maybe Rachel will have some pie and coffee for us."
"Pie sounds great," I smiled back. As I began to step down from the step onto the street, my foot caught in the hem of my dress, and I felt myself falling. Everything went black, and the last thing I heard was Jimmy calling my name.
********************************************************
"I think she’s coming around," I could hear the voice through the fog-like haze in my head, and I struggled to open my eyes. A face finally appeared before me, and I recognized the woman who had been at the register in the gift shop.
"You had quite a fall there," she smiled down at me. I looked around the room and realized I was back at the museum at the express station. Looking down at myself, I saw I was dressed in the clothes I had been wearing when I left work that day.
"How long was I unconscious?" I asked, knowing it had to have been a long time. My parents would be worried sick.
"Not very long," the woman said. "I saw you fall and had Jack here," she gestured toward the older man standing behind her, "carry you in here. That was probably about half an hour ago."
Only half an hour? My entire life was just flipped upside down. I had experienced two days in the old west, and it was only half an hour?
Epilogue
You know, I never did figure out if my experience was real, or if it was just a dream. I know all the records say that James Butler Hickok was never a Pony Express rider, but records can be wrong. And even if it was a dream, it was very real to me.
And even if it was a dream, I learned something through my experience that I will never forget. That one evening spent with Jimmy, that one conversation we had, changed my life forever. I realized that it’s not what other people think about you that matters. I still think I’m plain, but now I know that that is not what is important. Jimmy helped me see that who I am is beautiful, because I am myself. I don’t have a false reputation to live with like he did. I’m free to be myself, in all my plainness, and that is the most beautiful thing in the world.
So, if you want to call me Plain Jane, go right ahead. I happen to think it is a lovely name.
