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lungs. She recognized the signs. At one of the homes she’d worked in, the master frequently came home inebriated like that. A black man dressed in the uniform of a conductor stood at a step stool leading to an open door on the middle train. Her hands shaking so badly she could hardly hang on to her carpetbag, she let him help her up the steps.
    There was only one other woman on the car, the smoke from the cigars of the men giving the room a silvery haze. Wishing for the fresh air of home, she sank down in a vacant seat and leaned against the back. This time there was no seat across from her, only the backs of the ones in front. She set her carpetbag in the seat by the window and prayed the man wouldn’t get on this train.
    “All a-b-o-a-r-d,” the familiar words came, and the train inched backward. She’d only have one more change to make, in Grand Forks. Relief made her almost dizzy. The rude man hadn’t gotten on this train. She stood to place her coat in the rack above and glanced around the half-full car. No, he wasn’t there.
    But at the other end near the cast-iron stove, the two drunks were tippling their bottles and laughing as if they’d heard the best joke ever.
    At least they were at the other end of the car.
    The train stopped, the wheels and brakes screeching, then at a shout from someone outside, it began to pull forward. Within minutes they were passing between brick buildings and the backyards of houses with wash hanging on lines and children playing under the shade trees. Soon they were out in open farmland.
    The noise from the inebriated men grew, the laughter taking an uglier tone.
    “Tickets, tickets, everyone.” The dark-skinned conductor came through the door between the cars and made his way down the aisle.
    Just as Augusta handed him her ticket, a shout came from the rear. A shot rang out. A woman screamed.
    “Oh!” The conductor headed for the fracas. “Stop that! Now you . . .”
    Augusta glanced down at the floor to find her ticket lying there. Breathing a prayer of thanks, she scooped it up and put it back in her reticule.
    Drunken fights on the train, a man who accosted her, what was this world coming to? Another man in uniform bustled down the aisle, and the fray settled down again. Ah, the stories I have about my trip to North Dakota. At least there wasn’t a storm at sea like Carl and Roald had endured . The ocean part of her journey, though long, seemed almost commonplace compared to this portion.
    Her stomach made hungry noises again. She sighed and shook her head. She hadn’t even taken time to find something to eat. Surely there would be a stop soon where she could buy some bread or something.
    At least she wouldn’t die of hunger in the next twelve hours, and there was water in a jug by the necessary. Mor would have a good meal ready when she got to Blessing. It was over two years since she’d seen her mother. And Hjelmer, her baby brother—was it really six years since she’d seen him? He’d be a man now, not that he hadn’t thought he was when he left home.
    Thoughts of her family took over her mind. Memories of her two brothers, Roald and Carl, who died the second winter in Dakota Territory, and her baby sister, Katy, last winter. So many gone now, Far included. Home had seemed desolate without him and Mor there. That had made the leaving easier. She retrieved her coat from the rack and folded it to use as a pillow against the window. Warm as it was, she didn’t need it as a blanket. In the morning she would be in Grand Forks, and then it was only an hour or two to Blessing. Almost there. She glanced out the window again, but the moon hadn’t come up. A light shone once in a great while. Otherwise complete darkness hid the land.
    So huge a country. One could surely get lost easily.

Chapter 6
    Ipswich
September 1
    Kane studied the black clouds mounding on the western horizon. They looked like rain, but then so had many others, and right now with harvest in full