Leadville Train Fred Cheney   © Copyright 2026 by Fred Cheney

Photo by Eslam Mohammed Abdelmaksoud at Pexels..

First thing, that fateful day, Adam Jeffery Morton poured himself a morning mug of coffee. He flavored it with whiskey and thought that just six months before, when Belle was here, they had used cream, but it had been whiskey for him ever since she left.

Yesterday, like all other days, he’d thought about her all the time—all the time he was out on the deer stand. Thought about the day she’d told him that it was her and not him. Told him that she had to find herself and she wasn’t finding it Leadville. She’d already arranged for Patty to take her to the station, and she was riding out on a branch of the Leadville Line. The little branch went as far as the town and returned, originally to service the mines in the area. She didn’t want one of those emotional good-byes on the platform. She added that this was a consideration for him as much as for her.

He thought about calling off the hunt when the rain got icy cold and threatened snow. But before he left, he would read her letter one more time. Its permanent place was in his shirt pocket, so he didn’t have to search. Adam Jeffery unfolded the letter deeply creased by the two weeks in his pocket. He probably had it memorized, but he read it anyhow. This way he could concentrate on her pen strokes—her flourishes with the tails of y’s, j’s, and g’s, the hearts when she dotted her i’s, and her crazy fusing of print and cursive. Also, her confusion with n’s and r’s; so he read right through, “ … it was rot you … .”

The rain began to blur the ink, so he put the letter back in the envelope and tucked it inside his shirt. He didn’t have to read it to know she had left to find herself, that she couldn’t help the way her mind worked, drove her away. And that same goofy mind had changed once again, and she was coming back to Leadville. And as afterthought—actually, in a p.s—she added, “Please don’t meet me at the Leadville train, ‘cause I’m coming in with someone else.” The p.s., he had memorized, sure enough. She was coming back with a stranger to settle down in Leadville town.

He couldn’t tell whether it was the cold rain or the letter that made him ache all over. Then a deer walked out of the brush and stood there deciding what to do. Adam Jeffery watched and waited, content to let the deer do what deer do. But the deer didn’t decide.

Eventually, Adam Jeffery shot. He thought it might feel good to kill something. The only relief he got were in his hands; the field dressing warmed them up, took the stiffness out of them. He put the heart and liver in a plastic bag that was part of his hunting jacket, as much as the letter was part of his shirt. He would get the tongue when he did the full butchering.

And that morning, Belle’s letter lay between his whiskeyed-coffee and the tagging receipt for the deer. This was the day she was coming in with her stranger to the Leadville station, where he was not to meet her. She’d changed her mind—and left. She’d changed her mind—and was coming back to Leadville. She’d changed her mind—about Adam Jeffery. Changes of mind were a human thing to do he told himself repeatedly.

The deer had changed its mind several times. It had pondered.

Adam Jeffery did not ponder. He got into his pickup and headed for the Leadville station.

He arrived at the platform with plenty of time. He was thankful for the eaves of the station to keep the hard, icy rain off him and those who were waiting. He passed pleasantries with his neighbors; it kept the chill out of them all. They laughed, full of excitement over the special person on the train. Adam Jeffery didn’t betray anything.

Then they heard the train whistle, and the mood changed to anticipation overall.

They all looked left, and eventually a chuffing locomotive eased around the corner. The hiss of the braking engine, and the steel wheel squeal dominated everyone’s senses. Then the braking noise subsided, and, for Adam Jeffery, sight took over. He watched a portman lower the steps of a passenger car to the platform. Five riders alit with the man’s aid, and then Adam Jeffery saw them—Belle and her new man standing on the platform. Adam Jeffery thought this really was the moment of good-bye, and he reached into his coat.