Hutchins Creek Cache Read online

  “Well, that’s very nice of you to offer me a gold star, even if your teacher has them all. Too bad you don’t have invisible stars,” Paige added slyly. She sorted a few more strands of hay while waiting for the comment to sink in.

  “Oh! I do have invisible stars. I forgot!” Sam ran over to an old copper pot and reached inside, returning with one fist clenched. “Here you go.” She opened her hand and lifted an invisible star from her palm, pressing it against Paige’s collarbone.

  “Thank you!” Paige exclaimed. “I love it. It’s very shiny.”

  Sam fixed Paige with a look that was half perplexed and half disgusted. “It’s not shiny, it’s invisible!”

  Paige took the reprimand well, admitting to herself that she needed to work on her imagination etiquette.

  “What are you ladies doing?”

  Paige welcomed Jake’s interruption since she was clearly losing ground in the current discussion.

  “We’re getting ready to make a bird nest,” Sam explained.

  “Because birds don’t live in houses,” Paige added, watching the amused look on Jake’s face. Fortunately, he refrained from arguing that some birds do live in houses.

  “Did you know that?” Sam asked.

  Jake nodded. “I know birds don’t live in the kind of houses people do.”

  Sam pondered his answer, her expression skeptical.

  “They love nests,” Jake added quickly. It seemed an acceptable qualification, as Sam went back to her task.

  Paige helped sort a few more strands of hay and then stood up. “Sam, do you think you could work on your own for a bit? I’d like to show Jake the inside of the museum.”

  Sam nodded and kept working.

  Jesse was just finishing a sale as Paige and Jake entered through the museum’s back door. He placed a small replica of a steam engine in a bag and handed it to a customer who thanked him and exited through the front.

  “Only the second sale so far today,” Jesse said, seeing Paige approach. “Sold a few postcards earlier. But it’s better than no sales at all. Gotta be grateful for every one.”

  “Do you have any special events coming up?” Paige wracked her brain for ways the museum could bring in some extra income. “Any programs for local schools, to learn about railroad history? I bet parents would buy souvenirs after a presentation. Or you could hold a movie night. Maybe show Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

  “Why that one?” Jake asked.

  Jesse laughed. “This reporter has done her research, I see. The famous cliff scene in that movie was filmed not far from here, or at least part of it was.”

  “What do you mean, part of it?” Jake looked confused. “Don’t tell me Newman and Redford didn’t do that jump. I love that scene.”

  “I can explain,” Paige said. “They did do the jump themselves, but not into the river, which wasn’t deep enough. They jumped onto a wooden platform, about six feet below the edge of the cliff. Stuntmen finished the filming back in California.”

  “Well, I say that still counts, then,” Jake said.

  “I agree,” Paige said. “You wouldn’t see me jumping off a cliff, even with a platform to catch me.”

  “Actually, I could see you doing that. Just another reason I worry about you when you’re out on assignments.” Jake laughed.

  “Sounds like we have a risk-taker here.” Jesse smiled, but also gave Paige a look of mock reprimand.

  “Oh, I could tell you stories….” Paige grabbed Jake’s arm to interrupt his sentence.

  “Let me show you around the museum.”

  “Diversion tactic,” Jake said to Jesse as Paige dragged him away from the sales counter.

  Retracing her steps from the afternoon before, Paige escorted Jake around the museum, pointing out historical photos and exhibits. In particular, they spent time looking at the detail on The Morning Star model.

  “Impressive,” Jake said. “That must have been one gorgeous car back in the day.”

  Paige nodded. “It could be now, too. It’s out in that back yard, waiting to be restored.”

  “Why waiting?” Jake leaned forward to inspect the display more closely.

  “They’re taking donations to restore it.”

  “Aren’t some of the cars out back already restored?” Jake ran one hand across the back of his neck. As she did with just about every movement he made, Paige felt warmth run across her own neck and shoulders. She blushed thinking back to the night before. There was no arguing with her feelings. Being with Jake felt like being home.

  “Yes, but not this one,” Paige explained, gathering her wits. “Remember what Rose told us. Jerome – Jesse’s father – insisted that car not be restored.”

  “That seems odd to me, doesn’t it to you? Looking at this model, I’d think restoring the original car would be an obvious move.”

  Paige glanced back at the sales counter, debating bringing Jesse into the conversation, but saw he was talking with Henry, who had just arrived. Both men looked serious. She filed this impression away and turned back to Jake.

  “I agree, but I guess he was sentimental about keeping it exactly as it was. Maybe he felt restoring it would take away its charm. He might have just been watching the museum budget, too. It has to be expensive to restore a train car like this.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Jake said. “I’ve seen the money that goes into restoring old automobiles. It figures a train car would cost even more, given its size.”

  The museum’s back door opened, and Sam appeared. Paige and Jake returned to the front counter just in time to hear an animated conversation.

  “Dad, we need a birdbath.”

  Henry waved hello to Paige and Jake, then turned to address Sam. “Just why do you need a birdbath, young lady? I don’t think you’d fit in one.”

  “Don’t be silly, Mr. Henry,” Sam giggled. “It’s not for me, it’s for the bird.” She turned to Jesse, serious again. “Please, Dad?”

  Jesse cracked a smile, looked at Henry and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know where she gets these ideas.” He turned his gaze back to Sam. “Why do we need a birdbath?”

  “So the bird can take a bath!” The young girl placed both hands on her hips, clearly annoyed at the obvious question.

  “What bird?” Henry leaned one elbow on the counter, amused.

  Sam pursed her lips, contemplating an answer. “It’s a secret,” she said, after a moment.

  “Oh, I see.” Henry said. “Well, I just might be able to whip something up that would work for you. Give me the afternoon to see what I can do.”

  Sam jumped up and down as if Henry had just told her it was Christmas morning. Thanking Henry, she scurried out the back door.

  “That’s really not necessary,” Jesse said. “The child has quite an imagination. She’ll be on to wanting something else soon.”

  “Well, she seemed pretty darn serious about that birdbath, and it’s nothing I can’t whip up with a post and a bowl. It’ll give me something to do, keep me out of trouble.”

  “Then it’s a good thing,” Jesse said. “We can’t have you working on Lulu all the time.”

  “I think it’s nice to see a child asking for something simple,” Paige said, “instead of toys or electronics. It’s refreshing.”

  “You’ve got a good point there,” Jesse agreed. “Everything she needs seems to be out in that back yard.”

  “All right, then. I’m off to see if I can come up with a plan for a birdbath.” Henry said his goodbyes and headed out the front door.

  “And I think we’re off to find lunch somewhere,” Jake said, turning to Paige. “What do you think?”

  “Lunch special at the Rails Café is always good,” Jesse offered. “Two doors down.”

  “Perfect,” Paige said, looking at Jake. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Rails Café nestled between an old bookstore and a small market with a sign announcing a sale on peaches. Although not as elega
nt as The Iron Horse, it scored just as high on the railroad nostalgia scale. The quaint eatery offered cozy booths with locomotive-themed placemats and napkins, a menu featuring cleverly named options and a working model railway that circled the interior of the café. Paige found it charming. Jake showed more interest in the food than the décor.

  “I think I’m going for the Boxcar Burger,” Jake said. “And a Mainline Milkshake. How about you?”

  “What?” Paige looked at Jake as if he’d spoken a foreign language.

  “Lunch. What looks good to you?”

  “I haven’t even looked,” Paige said, twisting in her seat in order to take in the surroundings. “Look at all this railroad memorabilia. It’s fascinating. Almost like a second museum, though not as historically based.” She picked up the menu, but didn’t open it. “I love the old wooden railroad crossing sign by the front door. And the lyrics to I’ve Been Working on the Railroad painted along the wall below the model train tracks.”

  “Personally, I’m fond of that sign over the kitchen pass-through,” Jake said. “The one that says ‘Full Steam Ahead.’ Because it implies we’ll be eating soon.”

  “OK, I can take a hint,” Paige laughed and browsed the food choices. “I’m not even sure what some of these are. Look at this one.” She pointed to a line on the menu. “Tie Hack Tamale? I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Jake said. “It’s sort of like a burrito, but wrapped in a corn husk…”

  “Stop it,” Paige laughed. “You know what I meant.”

  “Ah, I understand now,” Jake continued, grinning. “Just giving you a hard time. Tie hacks were workers who logged lumber to make railroad ties. A lot of that was done in Wyoming. We even have a memorial in the Wind River region. But northern Colorado had some activity, too.”

  “Well, I’ll take the Short Line Salad with the Cajun Caboose Croutons,” Paige finally decided. “And a glass of Iced Trestle Tea.”

  “Good choices.” A spunky server dressed in an engineer outfit arrived in time to hear Paige’s selection. Jake added his order, and the server hurried away.

  “See? Full steam ahead. I like this place,” Jake said.

  Paige nodded in agreement as the model train above started rolling along the tracks. A young boy at a nearby table pointed to it and squealed with glee; his mother hushed him.

  “Thomas!” the child cried out, clapping his hands.

  Jake looked at Paige, puzzled. “Thomas?”

  “Thomas the Tank Engine,” Paige explained.

  “Is that ‘The Little Engine That Could?’” Jake asked.

  “No,” Paige laughed. “We’ll need to educate you on your train literature.”

  “I’ve read Murder on the Orient Express. Does that count?”

  “Absolutely,” Paige said. “That’s a classic, a great one, at that.”

  The server returned to place one milkshake and one iced tea on the table.

  “What angle do you plan to take for your article this time?” Jake asked. “General railroad history? Information specific to the Durango-Silverton line?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Paige admitted, sipping her tea. “It depends on how much I can learn in Hutchins Creek. I may find enough background to make a small town story feasible. How this particular railroad town came to be, for example. That might work, since a railroad man founded it. Otherwise, I’ll need to expand it to incorporate a broader scale. Perhaps the Denver-Rio Grande Line itself. I’ll email Susan with some ideas later to see what she thinks.”

  “Your editor usually agrees with your pitches,” Jake said. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something this time that works for her.”

  “I’d like to come up with something local. Seems like four generations of railroad work, plus the founding of this town, would make a good story.”

  The server approached the table and delivered the rest of the meal. Paige stole a fry from Jake’s plate immediately. Playfully, he pretended to brush her hand away.

  “You certainly have some interesting characters here. You do always seem to find them in these small towns.” Jake took a bite of his Boxcar Burger, preventing him from continuing that thought. Paige picked it up immediately.

  “Quite a few people here have been around for a long time, which is a huge plus. The local residents might have information that isn’t in the history books.”

  “Right. Obviously the Hutchins family, seeing as how they founded the town.” Jake took a second bite.

  “Yes, but also consider Henry. He knows this town well. He could provide a perspective from outside the Hutchins family. More objective, I think. You have to figure family might be protective about a town their ancestor founded. Henry could throw some color into the mix.” Paige popped a crouton into her mouth, nodding with approval at the Cajun flavoring.

  “What do you make of the girl at the museum?”

  “Sam?” Paige asked. “Intriguing. Unusual. Imaginative.”

  “Has she shown you that ‘secret treasure’ yet?” Jake’s smirk told Paige he wasn’t asking a serious question, yet she was prepared with a serious answer.

  “Not yet, but don’t be so sure there isn’t anything. She has a vivid imagination, but she might also have a real item that’s a treasure to her, though it might not be to us. Maybe a stone she found. Or a bird feather – that would tie in with the small nest she’s making.”

  “Good thought,” Jake said, impressed. “I would never have thought of that. I bet you’re great with children.”

  Paige was silent as she absorbed the statement. They’d never talked about children. Although they’d been on the brink of committing to future plans, those plans weren’t yet defined. Jake’s suggestion that she move to Jackson Hole was a constant unspoken undercurrent in their relationship.

  “I love children,” Paige said, and as she spoke realized how true this was. She had friends in New York with children, and she always delighted in spending time with them, whether she accompanied them on outings or just relaxed at their homes. She found reading to children especially rewarding. An avid reader herself, she loved watching children discover new worlds through books.

  Paige ventured a quick look up from her salad, finding a smile on Jake’s face. She felt this wasn’t time for a serious discussion, so she looked back down and changed the subject. “I wonder how far along the museum’s fundraising campaign is for The Morning Star’s restoration. I might go back after lunch to find out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Paige repeated. “Restoration of old train cars could be an interesting angle for the article, if I tie it in with railroad history. Besides, I’m curious.”

  “About the donation status?” Jake sounded and looked confused.

  “Not just that,” Paige admitted. “I’m wondering if Sam might be willing to share what her secret treasure is. And…this will sound odd, but I had the strange feeling Jesse and Henry were discussing something tense when Henry first arrived.”

  “Based on what?”

  “On their expressions, mostly. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about before we walked over. I just felt…it’s hard to explain. My instincts tell me something was up.”

  “Uh oh,” Jake said. He pushed his empty plate to the side. “When your instincts get involved, you always end up in trouble.”

  “That’s not fair,” Paige protested. “Sometimes my instincts lead me to information I wouldn’t have otherwise. I can’t help it. It’s the reporter in me.”

  “And other times, you end up hopping fences or trapped in tunnels.”

  “Not all the time.” Paige’s voice weakened, knowing it was hardly a defense.

  “Eighty percent of the time.”

  “Forty percent.”

  “Sixty...”

  “Fifty...and that’s my final offer.” Paige smiled. How could he argue with that? She was admitting outright that half the time she followed her hunches, she ended up in some sort of tro
uble.

  “All right, I’ll go along with fifty, but please don’t go crashing through any museum floors, you hear?”

  Paige barely suppressed a laugh. Jake’s serious tone made her want to hug him, an urge she was having more and more frequently.

  “The museum probably doesn’t even have a basement,” she argued. Even as she said it, a parallel thought struck her. Maybe it did? If so, could there be additional displays stored there?

  Paige pushed her salad plate to the edge of the table just as the server came by.

  “Can I interest you in a slice of Pullman Pecan Pie?”

  Jake laughed and looked at Paige. “How do you find these towns where we can gain ten pounds in just a few days?”

  Paige and the server exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. Jake’s slim, muscular body wasn’t likely to gain a single pound, no matter how much he ate. Paige, on the other hand, would be out for a morning run every day to keep her own slender figure. Declining dessert, they asked for the check.

  “Business calls to make, for your ranch?” Paige asked as they exited the café.

  “Trying to ditch me?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Paige laughed. “Seriously, come back to the museum with me if you want to.”

  Jake shook his head. “No, I think I’ll let you get in trouble all on your own. I need to contact the lumber company about a new shipment I need for the cabins.”

  “Good…I mean, that sounds perfect,” Paige said. “I’ll see you at the inn later.”

  “Be careful.” Jake placed a soft kiss on Paige’s forehead and left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As Paige approached the museum’s entrance, she heard a faint murmur of voices. She would have gone on in had she not heard the words “missing money” as she reached for the door handle. Noting a window slightly open to one side, she stepped closer to listen, leaning against the wall and checking her cell phone as a cover for her eavesdropping.

  “It wasn’t that much at first. Just a few dollars here or there, I figured.”

  Paige easily recognized the voice as Jesse’s. He sounded more baffled than angry.