The Nightland Express by J. M. Lee

Author:J. M. Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Erewhon

Chapter XVIII

Jesse

The remaining bit of northern Utah Territory was an area many reckoned to be the most dangerous part of the route. The last gauntlet, a final stretch between the red and yellow of Salt Lake Valley and the promise of green in California.

It was quiet. Desolate and deadly, if the travel guides were to be taken at their word. The only consolation Jesse had was that it was remote. At least, for her. Far away from the world Jesse had come from. Far enough that while they rode in silence, Jesse practiced thinking of herself as a boy.

No . . . thinking of himself as a boy.

It felt uncomfortable, even in the privacy of her—of his—own mind. He’d caught himself doing it before, by accident, sometimes in dreams. So now that he’d made the decision, why was it so difficult? Everyone else called Jesse him, ever since the stable yard back in St. Joe’s. So why couldn’t she—he!—do it himself?

Because he’d known himself the longest, he reckoned. It wouldn’t be easy for someone like Alice or his father to think of him as a boy. But he’d just met Foley and Mock, Alexander Majors and Darcy Declan. Even Nelly, though something about the girl made Jesse think she knew the truth about him anyway.

What truth there was to know, Jesse wasn’t sure. He didn’t even completely understand himself. All he knew was he felt good, and right, for the first time in a long time. Even if Alice would say there was nothing natural about it. No social provision for it, no course of action. No explanation from the law, nor the Bible, and Jesse could only guess where a pastor might say someone like her would end up.

There was that her again. Him. Him!

Jesse gave up after a while, from sheer mental exhaustion. Sometimes it felt right and sometimes it didn’t. She guessed it would only work when she was trying the least. When it made the most sense and her mind settled on a decision.

Or maybe it’s not the kind of thing that ever fully settles, she thought, and shrugged. So be it.

The next station wasn’t more than a tiny log shack with a stone foundation, hardly a building, though not much less so than other stations they’d seen along the way. The station keeper, a tiny man, gave them water and directions to the next stop even though the compasses could’ve shown them the way. No sooner had Jesse felt the shade of the roof on her brow than they were off again. The quickness gave her a taste of what the Overland Pony riders did, riding their hundred-mile routes. Jumping from saddle to saddle with only a moment to swap mochilas and take a sip of cold water.

And so the desert passed them slowly, wide and yellow, their progress marked by the stations and the steady, watchful movement of the sun overhead.

“What do you call those places we can jump through? Gates?” she asked Mock after they left the third station west of Salt Lake Valley.

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