“It’s not you specifically. It’s who you represent.”
“Northeast Rail?”
“More generally the railroad. Any railroad.” Ben nodded as he watched Roen’s features clear of confusion. The penny had finally dropped.
“Because she’s Chinese,” Roen said flatly.
“Good. You noticed. I was beginning to question your powers of observation.”
Roen’s mouth twisted sardonically and allowed that to speak for him.
“Sorry,” said Ben.
“You’re not.”
“Maybe a little.”
“That’s more like it.” Roen lifted his cup and drank. “I take it Miss Chen’s family came here when the Central Pacific was hiring.”
“Hiring,” Ben repeated without inflection. “That’d be the word they used. The fact that they paid a wage is all that kept it from being slavery. That’s not a widely held view, but it’s my view. It’s a sure thing that Fedora has the same perspective.”
“She was born here?”
“Yes, not in Frost Falls, but in the country. Her grandfather and father came here back in the sixties. Her grandfather was killed working for the Central. Her father survived, married, and raised his family somewhere in Utah until they were all but driven out. They resettled in Colorado; Mr. Chen took up with the railroad again, this time the Union Pacific, and now with his two sons. The way I understand it is that a few years later, Fedora was the only family member to survive an outbreak of influenza that ran rampant through the railroad community.”
Roen exhaled slowly. The tightness in his chest eased only marginally. He said quietly, “It must have been extraordinarily difficult for her.”
“Yes.”
Roen waited, but it was all Ben would say on the matter. “Thank you for telling me. It probably won’t matter, but I’ll tread even more carefully.”
“You’re right. It probably won’t matter, but it won’t hurt. She hasn’t been here long, less than a year, and there are folks who aren’t happy about it. Some don’t want her serving them, so she’s naturally skittish. Ellie won’t have it, though there’s not a lot she can do about it.”
“I suppose even her good opinion has its limits.”
“I guess it does. Can’t say that it stops her from pushing at those limits. My mother has Fedora firmly under her wing, which is not bad, all things considered.” Ben’s eyes shiftedfrom Roen to a point beyond his shoulder. “Here she comes,” he said under his breath.
Roen didn’t know if Ben meant his mother or Fedora. The wisest course was not to inquire and risk being overheard.
It was Fedora Chen who approached their table balancing two plates heaped with roast beef, potatoes, and carrots on one forearm and carrying the coffeepot in her other hand. She set the pot down and then carefully placed the plates in front of Roen and Ben. Both men thanked her. Her response was the same small smile accompanied by downcast eyes. She poured more coffee, swept the pot away, and disappeared.
Ben savored the aroma of the beef as he lifted it to his mouth. He swore he could taste it before it reached his tongue. “So tell me about this conversation you had with Clay Salt. I reckon it happened when he followed you out to your work site yesterday.”
Roen didn’t try to hide his surprise. “You know about that?”
Ben shrugged modestly. “I try to keep abreast of the comings and goings of folks, particularly the rascals.”
“Clay is certainly one of those.”
“Is he? I was talking about you.”
Roen laughed and swallowed at the same time. “You might have waited until I cleared the potato to say that. I almost choked. Your wife warned me that you like to amuse yourself.”
“She did? Of course she did. She thinks I’m a rascal, too.”
“True.”
“So about Clay... he stopped by my office to see if I had something for him to do. I didn’t, so he said he was going to go out to where you were working and watch, see what he could learn about surveying. I told him not to pester you. Did he?”
