Free Worthy Brown's Daughter by Phillip Margolin

combination of Douglas Democrats and Republicans in the Oregon legislature had thwarted Lane’s bid to be reelected to the United States Senate. Orville Mason had worked hard behind the scenes to bring about Lane’s defeat, which had destroyed his viability as a presidential candidate. But his vice-presidential candidacy as a pro-slavery Democrat worried Oregon Republicans, who knew Lane had many supporters in his home state.
    Some of the people standing next to Orville stepped aside, and Matthew noticed that Mason was talking to a young woman. He cut through the crowd to his friend’s side and laid a hand on his shoulder.
    “I never thought I’d catch you within a mile of Senator Lane,” Matthew said.
    “Joe’s not so bad. It’s his politics that stink. Besides, I’m not here to listen to that windbag. I’m here to witness the end of civilization.”
    “You have no sense of history, Orville,” said the young woman, who Matthew guessed to be about eighteen. She was slender and dressed in a sky-blue frock outlined by white lace that tucked in to highlight her narrow waist. Above the waist, the material billowed out, hinting at the full breasts concealed by the soft fabric. A white bonnet decorated with yellow flowers covered her golden hair.
    “It’s not history I’m worried about,” Orville joshed. “Those metal monsters belch black smoke that darkens the countryside and ruins every fabric on which it alights. I have also heard that they travel at speeds so great the passengers risk heart failure.”
    The attractive young woman was so serious about the subject of locomotion that she did not realize that Orville was teasing her.
    “The smoke is true enough,” she said, “but you simply shut your window. And I can assure you that no medical problem is presented by the speed. In fact, it is their speed that recommends them as a means of transportation. Think of how quickly you’ll be able to get to Washington when Mr. Lincoln appoints you to the United States Supreme Court.”
    “I shall take a slow boat on that day, and live to serve my country.”
    The woman turned to Matthew. “I hope you’re not as narrow-minded as Mr. Mason, Mr. . . . ?”
    “Pardon me,” Orville said. “I assumed you knew each other. Heather, allow me to present my good friend and fellow attorney, Matthew Penny. Matthew, this is Heather Gillette.”
    Before Matthew could respond, Francis Gibney materialized out of the crowd. “Miss Gillette, your father wants you to join him at the christening.”
    “You two must accompany me,” Heather said, hooking Orville’s arm with her right and Matthew’s with her left. Before Matthew could say anything, she was steering them along the path Francis Gibney was clearing.
    THE OREGON PONY was stenciled in grand gold letters on the shiny black carapace of Oregon’s first locomotive. Miniature American flags decorated the cowcatcher. In the cab, waiting for Abigail Thornton to christen the Pony, was Joshua Coffee, an engineer sent from San Francisco to train an Oregonian in the secrets of locomotion. Mr. Coffee had tried to talk the well-dressed gentlemen out of their planned ride to the railroad bridge, but they would hear none of it.
    “I was afraid you’d miss the ceremony,” Benjamin Gillette said to his daughter. Then he spotted Matthew. “Glad to see you again, Penny. Will you be at the reception?”
    Before Matthew could answer they were interrupted by the sound of a champagne bottle shattering, an explosion of cheers, and the shrill of steamer whistles.
    “See you tonight,” Benjamin said as Thornton and Lane dragged him toward the tender. Heather followed her father. Matthew held back for a moment.
    “What reception is Gillette talking about?” he asked Orville.
    “It’s at his mansion. They’re celebrating the off-loading of the Pony. Are you a friend of Ben’s?”
    “No, an adversary, actually. I won a lawsuit against him in Phoenix a few weeks ago.”
    “Ah, the