William Johnstone - Thunder of Eagles

The vendor chuckled. “It is indeed. Hot off the press, miss,” he said. “It’s five o’clock in the morning. There must be a story you really want to see.”

“The reviews,” Rachael said.

“Ahh, the reviews, yes, I understand. You are an actress, are you?”

“I am a musician, and I did my opening show of the season last night,” Rachael said, handing the vendor two cents.

“I hope it is a good review for you then, miss,” the vendor said as he gave her a folded issue of the paper.

Rachael took the paper over to the corner and stood under the greenish cast from the gaslight in order to read the review.

Beautiful Chamber Music

Mr. Mathias and Miss Kirby Thrill Audience at Stuyvesant Theater

The opportunities to hear chamber music under satisfying conditions in New York are not frequent, and therefore it is a pleasure to record that Mr. Edwin Mathias and Miss Rachael Kirby gave a violin and piano sonata recital, in the first of what is planned to be many performances for the season.

If last night’s performance is any indication, they are assured of a very successful season. The performance was in the Stuyvesant Theater, a perfectly excellent auditorium for chamber music. The feeling is the same as if one is in a drawing room.

The additional fact that Mr. Mathias and Miss Kirby are engaged to be married gave the occasion even more of an air of intimacy.

The program included Brahms’ Sonata in A major, Beethoven’s Sonata in G minor, and a delightful piece by Chopin. Never was music more beautifully played than by these two wonderful musicians.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Rachael said aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” the vendor said.

Rachael chuckled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize that I had spoken aloud.”

Clutching the newspaper tightly, Rachael hurried to Edwin’s apartment.

Should she wake him up to share the news? They were both worried about how their concert would be received, being as they were only two people, playing music that normally was performed by full orchestras. In fact, some of their closest friends told them they were taking an enormous risk.

But Rachael and Edwin had put together a schedule hoping for a successful season that would then give them the opportunity to be married. Then, they would go to Europe to play there.

They had each played in Europe before, but always as part of some larger ensemble, never as individuals, and never together. The idea that they could go to Europe as man and wife would be a dream come true. In fact, there were some who said that a marriage between Rachael and Edwin was ordained in heaven.

Rachael went up the stairs to Edwin’s third-floor apartment. She started to knock on the door, but feared that if she knocked loudly enough to awaken Edwin, she might also awaken his neighbors. She not only did not want to be rude enough to awaken his neighbors, she also didn’t want his neighbors knowing that she was here at this hour, as it might cause talk.

Suddenly, she got an idea. She would cook breakfast for him. She knew where he hid the extra key and, taking it, she went inside to Edwin’s small kitchen. She opened the door to the icebox and took out a slab of bacon and some eggs.

The bacon was snapping and twitching in the pan, permeating the apartment with its rich aroma, when she heard Edwin behind her.

“Rachael, what are you doing here?” Edwin asked.

“Isn’t it obvious, silly? I’m cooking breakfast,” Rachael said, stepping over to kiss him. She intended to kiss him on the lips, but at the last minute, he turned his head so that she wound up kissing him on the cheek, feeling the stubble of a morning beard against her lips.

“But this is my apartment,” Edwin said. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m cooking breakfast. I couldn’t wait. Look!” she said, holding up the newspaper opened to the review page. “We got a wonderful write-up! Our season is made, Edwin! It’s made! Why, we may not even have to wait until the end of the season to get married. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Edwin, what’s going on? Who are you talking to?” a woman’s voice asked. The voice was followed by the appearance of a very pretty, and very scantily clad, woman. “Oh, I know you,” she said, smiling as she saw Rachael. “You were on the stage with Edwin last night. You were wonderful!”

Rachael was too struck to respond. Instead, she just stared at the young woman.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember me, but I was sitting in the front row,” she said. “Afterward, I just had to come back and say how much I enjoyed the concert. Then, as Edwin and I began talking, one thing led to another and, somehow, I wound up spending the night here.”

“Yes,” Rachael said in a quiet, strained voice. “I can see that.”

“I know, being in show business, this is probably nothing unusual to you. But I must confess, it’s all very new to me, and very exciting.”

Rachael turned to go.

“Rachael, wait,” Edwin called.

Rachael stopped. “Wait for what?” she asked.

“This—this.” He made a gesture with his hands. “I don’t know how to explain this, it just happened,” he said. He forced a smile. “But you are right, it’s wonderful news about the review.”

“Good-bye, Edwin.”

“Rachael, no, don’t go. We can work this out.”

“There is nothing to work out,” Rachael said. Stepping outside, she forced herself not to cry.

Now, two years later, Rachael lay in bed in a hotel room in Pueblo, Colorado, staring up into the darkness. She had not cried over Edwin, and she was not going to cry now.

She had given twenty-five dollars of her money to help pay for the theater. The troupe had managed to come up with only two hundred eighteen of the two hundred fifty dollars needed, but Joel Montgomery, owner of the theater, had agreed to accept that.

When Rachael went downstairs to prepare to leave the hotel the next morning, the clerk gave her two envelopes.

“What is this?” she asked.

“You must be quite a popular young lady,” the clerk said. “They are letters to be delivered to you.”

“Thank you,” Rachael said. Paying her bill, she walked out into the lobby and sat on one of the circular couches to read her mail. The first was from Mary Buffington.

Rachael opened the envelope and began to read:

Dear Rachael,

We learned of a train leaving at three o’clock this morning, so we decided to take it. I thought about waking you, and telling you good-bye, but given the blow we all received yesterday, I thought that sleep might be better for you.

Hugh said he is not going to let J. Garon get away with stealing our money, and he intends to recover it. I don’t know how he plans to do this, but you know that Hugh is a very determined man, once he sets his mind to it.

If he is successful in recovering the money, I will try to see that you receive what is due you, but in order to do that, you must keep in touch with me, so I will know where you are.

You will always be able to reach us at the Players’ Guild in New York. Good luck to you in your Western adventure.

Love,

Your friends, Mary and Hugh

P.S. The rest of the troupe sends their love as well.

Putting that letter aside, Rachael opened the other one.

Dear Miss Kirby,

My name is Corey Hampton. My brother Prentiss and I own a saloon in Higbee, Colorado. Let me assure you, it is a saloon of the highest repute.

Last night I attended the performance you and the others gave, and I enjoyed it very much. But what I enjoyed most was your piano playing. It was beautiful, and it held me spellbound for the entire evening.