It was nine o clock.

The train from Winnipeg was overdue.

Ruth Westlake, a slim young woman with long black hair, left the confines of the train station and headed toward a nearby bench. She sat, smoothed her green skirt, and then gazed into the east. By the look of it the train wouldn’t pull in for a few moments yet. She sighed and pulled a sheet of paper from her purse. After a moment, she bit her lip and began to write.

“Dear Father, I must apologize, I haven’t written you for some time. The truth is, I’ve really been enjoying my time here in Gladstone and I just haven’t had the chance. My life hasn’t been a grand romantic adventure like they said it would be in all those silly magazines I used to read but despite the titanic struggles we’ve faced in the last while, Gladstone has all the modern conveniences you’d expect in 1885. We’ve got two full-time doctors, one drug store, the Galloway Brothers General Store, and just to the south of them, we’ve got Williams Brothers hardware run by Arnold and Billy Williams. You might think there would be a rivalry between them all but if there is, it’s a friendly one. Just between us, I think the Williams brothers are more worried about whether they’ll be able to marry the two Foster girls they’ve got their eyes on.”

Ruth paused. Searching for the words she needed to continue her letter. Meanwhile, a head of tousled brown hair poked around the western corner of the train station.

“Woah Betsy. Look at that crowd.” Bill exclaimed as he stepped out onto the platform.

“What crowd?”

“That crowd!” Bill pointed at the people sitting on the grass beyond the railway track. “Everybody must be here to watch the train come in.”

Betsy stepped forward and peered over his shoulder. “Billy, come on, who would come to a train station to see a train?”

“Well, Betsy, what else would they come here to see? A bunch of actors?”

“Of course they would!”

Bill threw up his hands in frustration. “Betsy stop it. I told you before, I don’t want to argue with you anymore!”

“Billy don’t be silly. I’m not arguing with you!”

“And stop calling me Billy. My name is Bill!”

“No, it isn’t!”

Bill shrugged. “Whatever. See that?” He pointed at the locomotive pulling to a stop before the platform. “The train from Winnipeg just pulled in. We should get to work.”

“Again? We already worked yesterday.”

“I’ve got some good news for you, Betsy. We can work all day today too.”

Betsy flounced her long brown hair. “No, we can’t.”

Bill grunted with barely concealed frustration and then set out across the platform. Undeterred by his indifference, his sister scampered along at his heels. As they walked they passed the lonely figure of Ruth, slumped on a bench and scribbling away at her letter.

“Oh yes, I mustn’t forget to mention William Shannon Bailey. William fought in the American Civil War and after he was discharged, he traveled to America. At some point in his travels, he heard of a great and boom to the north, so he came up here to Gladstone. William Bailey and C.P. Brown actually got together and founded our first bank, although, William bought out C.P. Brown pretty quick and named the bank, The W.S. Bailey Trust. Personally, I have other problems…namely my husband Simon. I don’t know if there is any help available for him.”

Bill halted before a passenger car. “Everybody off this here train whose gettin off!”

“I’m comin…I’m comin. Goodness. With all that bellowin goin on out there, it sounds like your a few calves short of a full feedlot.” With those words, Simon’s blond head appeared in an open window above them.

Betsy laughed as she swatted at her brother. “Some people are always a few calves short of a full feedlot.”

Bill scowled as he weaved and ducked. “You’ll hafta watch out for Betsy Simon, she’s pretty ornery today.”

“Well, I’m sure glad nothins changed since I left.” Simon shoved open the door of the train car and navigated the steps to reach the platform. As he reached solid ground, he strode toward the two railway employees. “Tell me. Why are you two always fightin anyway? Why don’t ya try canoeing with the Riverside Canoe Club or somethin?”

Bill straightened his dark blue shirt in an effort to look professional. “No, I couldn’t do that. I’m far too busy working to waste my time paddling around on the Whitemud.”

Betsy grabbed at Simon’s battered black suitcase. Bill slapped at her hand, stopping her efforts for the moment.

“Besides, the Riverside Canoe Club is for men only!” Betsy retorted as she stuck out her tongue at her brother.

“Why don’t ya try playin in our new town band then? William Chandler, that fella from England who started it, is walkin all over the countryside. Portage, MacDonald, High Bluff, and who knows where else in all sorts of weather ta boot, just ta give people music lessons. Why don’t ya get’em ta teach you a lesson?”

“Billy sure needs someone to teach him a lesson,” Betsy said as she made another play for Simon’s bag. This prompted Bill to give her hand another, more powerful, swat.

“Betsy, leave Simon’s bag alone!” His tone turned apologetic. “Sorry Simon, with everything I have to do these days, I don’t have time for music lessons either.”

“Why not? You always blow your own horn anyway, you might as well learn how to do it properly.” This time Betsy was successful in snagging Simon’s bag.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even own a horn, let alone have time to blow it.” Bill grabbed the bag from his sister and then handed it back to Simon. “Thing is, I’m planning to claim a homestead soon so I’m trying to get all the cash together that I can.”

“No, you aren’t!”

Simon adjusted a frayed strap on his well-worn overalls. “I’d love ta stand here all day an listen to ya fightin about whether or not yer actually fightin or not but I gotta banker sittin in that there train station right now waitin fer me ta bring my father in so we can do some business…so I better go get my father.” With that Simon began to make his escape.

“Be careful out there,” Bill warned. “Your mother-in-law has been stomping all over Gladstone looking for you.”

Simon stopped in his tracks. “Why does that woman always hafta come over when I’m home?” He turned back to face Bill. “When did she get in here anyway?”

“Yesterday. On the fast train up from America,” Betsy chirped as she lunged for Simon’s suitcase.

“Betsy, I’ll thank ya ta leave my luggage alone! I got more than enough trouble these days. Sides. You got all those people sittin out there waitin for their luggage. Why don’t ya get busy helpin them?” Simon peered out at the people sitting out before the railway tracks. “By the look of ‘em, they’re a pretty rich bunch. You’ll get more tips outta them than you ever will outta me.”

Bill shoved his sister to the side. “Don’t you worry Simon! We’ll get their luggage unloaded right away. If you’ve got a banker waiting for you to get your father, you better just go out and get him.”

“Thank ya kindly.“ Simon began marching off again, muttering under his breath. “I tell ya, them bankers are like skunks, if ya don’t run when they tell ya ta run, they start raisin a stink.” So busy muttering was he that he almost collided with the young woman who had left her letter-writing behind for the opportunity to greet him.

“Simon.”

“What do ya want now Ruth?”

Ruth placed her hands on her hips, blocking Simon’s escape. “Don’t be like that. I’ve just got a few things back home I need you to take care of and…”

“And you expect me ta run on over to tha homestead and do’em all right this instant, don’t ya?”

“Oh. That would be simply wonderful if you could! The Galloway Brothers got some fine lace curtains into their store yesterday and…”

“Lace curtains? What do ya mean, lace curtains?”

“Oh. I haven’t seen lace curtains like that since I moved up here. You should see them! They are simply divine and they only cost us twenty dollars.”

“Twenty dollars! That’s a whole month’s wages these days!”

“Don’t worry. I just put it on our bill along with everything else.”

Simon’s voice escalated steadily as he spoke. “Everything else? Here I am busy workin and yer busy spendin money we don’t have for things we don’t even need!” He moved past his wife and began stomping down the walkway toward the street.

Ruth had to jog to keep up with him. “How do you know we don’t need them? You’re never home long enough to listen to what I…”

Simon stopped and faced the woman he had married. “Listen to what ya have ta say? Ya never stop talkin long enough for me ta do anythin but listen!”

On that note, the happy couple was forced apart by a pair of powerful hands.

“Stop it!”

Simon cleared his throat. “Naomi. It’s nice ta see ya.”

“I didn’t notice you walk up,” Ruth muttered.

Naomi, a well-dressed elderly woman, sighed with the weariness of experience. “I wouldn’t think so, you two were pretty preoccupied.”

“It wasn’t what it sounded like,” Ruth protested.

Naomi snorted. “Really? To me, it sounded like Bill and Betsy on a bad day. But if it wasn’t what it sounded like, why don’t you humor an old woman and tell me what this was really about?”

“Well. Here I am, workin my fingers to the bone, goin ta Winnipeg an back, tryin ta save our homestead and Ruth here expects me ta run home and hang some lace curtains in the outhouse…”

Ruth stepped toward her husband as anger flashed in her eyes. “That isn’t the whole story and you know it!”

“I said stop it!” Naomi snapped. “That’s better. Now. Take a breath and start from the beginning, what was this you saying about trying to save the homestead?”

“See Naomi. This all started back durin the great Gladstone land boom, the railway came in, the land prices started shootin up, an my father decided ta take advantage of the homestead act.”

“What do you mean by taking advantage of the homestead act? It wasn’t anything illegal, was it?”

“No…no…it weren’t nothin like that. It was all perfectly legal. Like a lotta fellas are doin these days, Father just sent ten bucks to the government of Canada and claimed himself homestead.”

“That’s what he claimed,” Betsy said as she tossed a bag of luggage from the window of a train car.

“Betsy, just what do ya think yer doin over there,” Simon exclaimed as he moved alongside the train to investigate this new development.

Naomi reached out and grabbed a broad shoulder, pulling him to a sudden stop. “Don’t worry about Betsy. Continue on with your story.”

“Well. Since the land prices were shootin up at the time, the homestead was soon worth a few thousand bucks, so father decided to make a quick buck himself and took out a mortgage on that one hundred and sixty acres.”

“Nothing flies out of your wallet faster than a quick buck,” Betsy exclaimed as she hurled another bag from the train car.

Simon began marching off again. “Betsy, why are you thrown all them bags…”

Ruth reached out and grabbed her husband’s well-worn hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Never mind her. What I want to know is what all this has to do with us now. Today!”

Simon swiveled to face the two women behind him. “Alright, Ruth. Here’s the plain truth fer ya. Father took another ten bucks outta all the money he got from the first mortgage and used that to claim another homestead down by Portage. Then, since the land prices were still mighty fine in those days, he mortgaged that second homestead too and got himself even more cash. An…well, you know what happened, the land price crashed and the town went broke. An ever since then grain prices have been hoverin around forty-five cents a bushel, so the land prices ain’t gonna be goin up anytime soon. And now Father is stuck with a whole buncha worthless land and he’s still gotta make mortgage payments on it all.”

Ruth frowned. “Let me guess. Your father can’t make payments anymore.”

“The banker is fed up and ready to foreclose,” Naomi continued.

“And soon we’re going to be broke and homeless,” Ruth finished.

“Well. We ain’t broke and homeless yet,” Simon fished through the pockets of his overalls until he found a bit of loose change. “We still got fifty cents to our names.”

“Lose those two quarters and you’ll be completely centsless,” Betsy called out as she tossed another bag onto the rapidly growing pile at the foot of the train.

Simon glared up at the window where the rogue railway employee stood wearing a large satisfied smile. “Betsy, just what the sam hill do ya think yer doin with all them bags?”

“Billy told me to unload these bags as fast as I know-how. This is as fast as I know how.”

“Fer Pete’s sake. Get this mess cleaned up! You don’t wanna have these bags layin there when I get Father over here. Speakin of which. I gotta go get my father.” With that Simon charged off into the morning sun.

A cloud of anger passed over Ruth’s face as she watched her husband jogging into the distance. “What a man! When was he planning to tell me that we’re going to end up homeless?”

“Don’t give up hope yet,” Naomi said with a calmness that can only come through the experience of great hardship. “You’ve still got a fighting chance and if I know anything about Simon it’s that he’s not going to give up without a fight.”

“He’s stubborn enough that’s for sure. But even if he does find his father, that’s no guaranty that they’ll be able to talk any sense into that banker. We need help!”

As the two women continued their discussion Bill and Betsy were busy on board the train, continuing their own argument.

“Betsy. Hold it.”

“What now?”

Bill handed an official-looking sign to his sister. “Look at this. This sign was inside beside the luggage. Read it.”

There was a moment of relative silence as Betsy read the sign. “Huh. It says, ‘fragile luggage, handle with care.’”

“You didn’t read that sign before you started throwing those bags out there, did you?”

“Of course I did.”

Bill threw up his hands in frustration. “Oh, man. Now we’re gonna get it. I know you’re mad at me. I know you’re just trying to get me in trouble but this isn’t fair!”

“Is it fair that you don’t want me to move with you to your new homestead? I am your sister after all. I moved all the way up here to Canada with you. That should be worth something!”

“Betsy! We have other problems right now” Bill thrust a hand out the window, pointing in the general direction of the crowd. “Look out there, what are all those people going to do to us when they find out what we did to their fragile luggage?”

Betsy raised a mocking eyebrow. “Why are you asking me? I don’t know what they’re going to do.”

“Whatever. We’ve got to get this mess cleaned up right away. Come on.”