January 30, 1868

I wonder if anyone will ever read this. I must only hope that the secrets it contains go with me to my grave. I am cold and lonely. I go to town in my filthy clothes and my hat pulled down to hide my face. I must smell to high heaven. There are no baths in Colorado in winter. I buy my supplies and that man, I think his name is Loren, gives me such stares. I wonder if he guesses about me. No, that's impossible.

It seems like a friendly town. There are those I would like to approach. I never thought to see a woman doctor. I thought there was a law against it. She has a kind and generous face. I have seen her looking at me as if she would approach, but I have looked away and moved off. She has seen my limp. I try to hide it, but sometimes the pain is too great. Maybe I will go to see her, see if she can fix my leg, but not just yet. What if she were to guess about me. I can trust no one.

It's late. I must check the horses and lock up the chickens. Tomorrow I must cut more wood, if I have not frozen in my bed. I wonder if anyone would miss me in town. Would they ride the mile out here in the cold to see if the newcomer is still among the living? Would anyone care enough about a surly farmer who won't even nod hello to them, to even notice my absence? The banker would notice when I missed the first payment. Ahh, that banker . . .

It is tempting to stay inside where at least my breath does not freeze as it leaves my mouth, but my animals are my life and I must see to them.

God keep me and my secret. I must live from day to day.

February 16

The winter thaw is over now and it is snowing again. There is no wind and so it feels more cozy than frightening, as were the storms of early winter. I have heard in town that the past few winters were mild, with little or no snow. This is hard to believe considering the storms I have survived here. Am still surviving. Why did I leave my warm home? Why did I think I could make it alone in this cold and desolate place.

My sister has written and asked to visit. She says it is not healthy to be alone like this. She doesn't know how I must live here. I will never tell her or my family. They will not understand.

Last week I went to the barber and had him cut off my hair. It was getting straggly and had a smell. The barber's name is Jake and seems a man of good means and attitudes, but his mouth has a hard set to it. He is the mayor but I have heard rumors he likes his liquor. He is a friend of that man who owns the saloon. He offered me to have a bath, and though I am in serious need of one, I could not, obviously, accept his offer. I am just glad he did not see clear to shave me. I thought he would ask me questions about myself so I closed my eyes. He was not so friendly after that. It is just as well, even though he interests me and I would ask him of his life were I not afraid it would be an invitation for him to do likewise.

After the barber I treated myself to a meatloaf dinner at Grace's Cafe. It is in the open air, but no one seems to feel the cold. They sit and eat as if they were inside their own warm cabins, or even back in my own Georgia where one might eat outdoors in winter. It was good food. I can almost smell and taste it now as I write. Miss Grace was pleasant to me and said I ought to have a woman of my own to cook for me. I smiled at her but could not meet her eyes. I would like to be friends with her but it would be unseemly. Her husband is a large man and I would not like to have an encounter with him. He has a horse I admire. I must talk to him next time I go to town. We have a common interest in horses.

February 21

I have made a friend. I was in the barn and suddenly felt peculiar, like someone was watching me. Someone who knew me, although there is no one here who does. I looked to the doorway and saw a wolf! I gave a yelp, and backed away into the stall, frightening the horse. But the creature wagged its tail so I thought I must be dreaming. I closed my eyes and opened them again, and there in the door was a man whom I could not see against the light. The wolf seemed to be with him.

I remembered then about the doctor's husband, the man with the wolf. So I laughed and apologized. I offered him my hand to shake.

"Thought maybe you could use a hand with some wood cuttin," he said.

I don't know how he knew this, or why he would think so. I am not small nor weakly, but in truth I find wood chopping to be my least favorite passtime. I most gratefully accepted and we chopped together for a while. He did not say much and yet he was easy to be with. I made us coffee and he did not make any adverse remarks about it so I gave him some more. I kept wanting to look at his eyes, but knew I must not. The wolf just sat by and smiled at us.

We chopped a good amount and I was warm and about beat and he was just fresh as butter. He said it was good to have a neighbor near his homestead. Asked if I'd like to come to dinner with his family sometime. He lives not far from my cabin. It's good to have friendly neighbors. I feel less alone. I am glad he did not ask after a wife and family. I would not have known how to answer.

I feel better about things tonight. The candle glow is warmer now, and the shadows don't seem as dark. When I hear the wolves howling outside I will think they are that man's wolf and I will not worry.

I have just realized I did not ask the man's name, nor give my own. I will go by his place soon and properly introduce myself. Maybe I will gather my courage and ask the lady doctor to look at my leg.

March 2

Tonight I had dinner again with Dr. Mike and Sully. I am beginning to feel quite comfortable with them and with some of the townsfolk. I must remember to be careful and not let down my guard. They asked me tonight how it is that I can make a living with only two horses, some chickens and some cans of food my sister sends me. The children made a game of guessing who I "really" am. They said I was the Prince of England, run away from responsibilities, whom they were learning about from the new schoolteacher. They think the teacher would make a good Princess for me.

When I said no, not a Prince, they guessed that I was a gunslinger like a friend of theirs who had once been sheriff here, and that I regretted my past and had come to live out my days as a lonely bachelor in the mountains of Colorado. I laughed at that. Then they started in on guessing the origin of my accent. I had thought it well disguised but children miss nothing.

One night the oldest boy, who is barely even a man, joined us. He is the sheriff, of all things. Someone in town told me of the sad loss of his bride to be. He showed no sign of his grief but he has a look inside his eyes that should not belong to one so young. He asked me if I would like to be a deputy but as I do not even own a gun, among other reasons, I declined. The family was shocked that I had never shot a gun. What if a bear came to my cabin, they asked.

"Then I would run like the wind."

"Well," said Brian, the youngest boy, "what if robbers came to your cabin?"

"Then I would shriek like the wind," I said.

Sully offered me a shotgun of his and said he would teach me to use it. Dr. Mike looked doubtful but I decided to accept the gift. I could not think what to offer in return, so I told them a story, one my grandmother had told me of how our ancestors had come from far away, a place called Russia, and settled in Savannah, Georgia, where they would be warm in the winters. The children said they had not been to Savannah, but they had been to Boston where Dr. Mike is from, and to Washington, D.C. They had even met the President of the United States.

Since I have made friends with this family I no longer feel so lonely. And it is getting warmer, and the children come to my cabin on their way home from school and sometimes bring their friends. I could not have imagined that I would enjoy the company of children, but I look forward to their visits, and miss them when they are away a long while. They have told me I need a wife and children of my own. They say I'd be a wonderful father. Maybe I would at that. Ah well, what kind of a father I would be is not something I nor anyone else will ever find out. It is, of course, impossible under the circumstances.

April 11

I have been invited to join Loren, Jake, and some of the other men in town to go to the hot springs. I did not know where the hot springs were, though I knew from the name of the town that they must be somewhere near. I might have spent a more pleasant winter had I known. Of course I cannot even think of joining these men, but having been asked, I feel I can consider myself accepted in the town. I must find a reasonable explanation for declining. I must not make them suspicious, nor feel I have rejected their offer of friendship.

The banker, Preston Lodge, has taken to slapping my shoulder and offering me cigars. He is a friendly sort but I don't think people trust him. He is quite interesting to be with and has managed to remain cordial, though I have paid off the loan for my cabin early and am no longer in his debt. I do not think he appreciated this as much I would have expected.

I have taken the children into my confidence regarding my line of work. They are amazed and think it is quite the thing to have a secret with a grownup. They say they should have known I was a writer because of the way I tell stories, and because Horace, the telegraph operator, told them that I receive even more parcels than Dr. Mike does. They pester me to tell Miss Dorothy, who owns the town newspaper, so that she can write an article about me. I knew the newspaper was run by a woman, and I have wanted to meet her for some time. Maybe I will go ahead with the children's wishes. My family would be stunned to see my name in the newspaper. Imagine it in the headlines: Famous Savannah Romance Writer Eli Adams Settles in Colorado Springs. I don't think I will send them a copy.

May 8

Today is my birthday. I have celebrated by taking myself on a picnic. I have had a present from my sister, as well, so I feel quite joyous. I thought of inviting some of my new friends, but I have been spending a great amount of time with them lately. I never thought I would say this after the winter just past, but I am in need of some time alone.

Maybe I am underestimating the people of this town. They have a lady doctor, a woman editor, a woman who is a Negro and who owns a restaurant. They have friendly relations with the Indians from the reservation. Their sheriff is just a boy, and keeps company with a whore. They treat their children with respect and as equals. They band together when there is trouble. Maybe they could accept me as I am, even after all this time. I am too afraid to try to find out.

It is going to rain. I know this because my leg is aching again. I went to see Dr. Mike a few weeks ago, but she said I must remove my trousers so that she could examine me. I could not, of course, agree to that, and though she cajoled and coaxed, she could not make me change my mind. She is a woman who is difficult to resist, but I have done so. With luck she will assume I am some squeamish gentleman who cannot bring himself to disrobe in the presence of a lady. I feel it harder every day to keep my secret. Maybe I should trust her. I believe in my heart that she, if anyone, will understand. As for the rest of the people in this town, this I doubt.

May 10

I think I am in trouble. The children took me to meet Miss Dorothy today. She is a remarkable woman with ink on her nose and a set to her shoulders. She was delighted to learn of my profession and says that as we are in the same business we ought to get along just fine. She has asked me to write a serialized story for her Gazette, the way they do in the bigger papers. I have agreed, but I am worried to spend much time with her. Colleen hinted that Miss Dorothy and I might make excellent dinner companions. When the children had gone she became rather flirtatious and hinted that she would most certainly accept an offer of dinner. I did not know how to answer her and so feigned a stabbing pain in my leg. I am disappointed at this turn as I had hoped to be able to spend more time with a fellow writer. Now it is out of the question.

At any rate, I somehow found myself on the examining table at Dr. Mike's clinic. She has informed me that my injury was not properly healed and that my leg will require an operation. I regret to say that I panicked and ran from the clinic without explanation. I most assuredly cannot submit to an operation. Heaven knows what Dr. Mike must think of me now.

Jake, Loren, and Hank have teased me mercilessly as they saw my hasty exodus from the clinic.

"Aw, heck," said Loren. "She's seen near ever' one of us in our birthday suits at one time or another. Even Hank here's been on that table."

"You get used to her after a while," said Jake.

Hank said nothing at all. I think he secretly admires the doctor. I want to ask him how he keeps his long hair so clean, but I suspect a man does not ask this of another.

Even Miss Myra heard about my humiliating retreat and tried to comfort me. She told me how the doctor saved her leg after she'd been attacked by a customer. I wondered what kind of telegraph customers her husband has that one would attack his wife. Maybe it was an irate bank customer. She does work there. I must ask Preston one day.

May 28

This evening when I was feeding the animals I stumbled and fell on my bad leg. It is aching fiercely now and I think I cannot live like this much longer. I will go to the doctor and take my chances with her trust. I think by now that I have done all this needlessly and all I need fear is that those who have been deceived will be angry for my lies. I have taken some tea made of willow bark that Sully's friend has sent to me. It has not helped. I cannot write any more tonight.

June 2

I do not know whether to laugh or to cry, or to steal off silently in the night. My secret is mine no longer. I am a patient at the clinic tonight and in great pain, though Dr. Mike assures me that once I am recovered I will think the operation was worthwhile. She says there is no sign of infection and that I am an excellent patient. The noise from the town and the saloon are quite irritating to me after my long winter in the silence. I grew up in a busy town and one would think I would welcome the sounds of people nearby, but I have grown to like my quiet life on my little farm. I hope I am not about to lose it.

As I had feared, Dr. Mike discovered while I was unconscious that my anatomy is not what one would have expected. She says that she was not terribly surprised and that she and Sully have speculated about me for some time. She told me an amazing story of her trick on the whole town just a few years back, when she rode her horse in a race from which women were excluded. Had someone told me of this, I might have come to her much sooner.

She says when I am better I am welcome to tell her my story, but only if I wish to. She will keep my secret if I insist, but I think it is time to let it go. I must take my chances with the townsfolk.

June 3

I have told Dr. Mike I will tell the truth, and we have come up with an plan that might make it easier. She has invited me to join her quilting circle next week when I can walk again. We will tell the womenfolk first and hope they will admire me for my daring, and not shun me for my deceits. I will not blame them if they turn away from me.

I have come to like my life here and have no desire to return home, nor begin anew elsewhere. God has kept me well this winter. I must believe this will continue to be so.

I have asked Dr. Mike to send a wire to my sister, and tell her of my operation, and invite her for the visit she has wanted for so long. Maybe she will meet her match among the menfolk here and settle. Her company would be most welcome. I do not believe she will appreciate the living conditions at my cabin as much as I do. I think, however, that she might appreciate young Matthew. We shall see.

I ramble on from boredom tonight. I miss my animals and worry about them, though I know Brian is trustworthy and will care for them as I would. He is enamored of my cat as he has never seen one except for some strays in Boston. He is determined to have one of his own. Perhaps my sister will bring him one of her kittens for a surprise.

Dr. Mike has checked in on me and says I must stop writing and try to sleep. Cloud Dancing has sent more of his medicines for me and I am not in too much pain.

June 10

What on earth ever possessed me to think I must take on this masquerade? It was all for nothing, as I can see now. I am proud to say I am tonight a member of the Colorado Springs quilting circle. This is apparently no small accomplishment. Dr. Mike told me how long it took for her to be accepted by the women of the town, and she had been nothing but herself! I believe she has paved the way for my own acceptance into this remarkable group.

Dr. Mike lent me one of her dresses and though it was a tight fit and much too short, it was enough to fool the ladies. She introduced me as her friend Eli, but having pronounced it "Elli" the others did not realize who I am and welcomed me. We commenced quilting, I using a square of Colleen's (who was in on the secret having been present during my operation), and making a poor job of it. She will have to tear out all my stitches. The ladies were interested in me as a newcomer and asked many questions. I used my natural accent and they had fun guessing my origins.

They asked many questions about life in Savannah. Most of them have never been away from Colorado Springs.

My flight from my beloved home they could understand. After the treatment I received from my former fiancé, they did not blame me for running away. Miss Dorothy came to Colorado Springs under similar circumstances, and she kept saying how smart and lucky I was to have escaped earlier rather than later as she had.

Furthermore, I explained that it is next to impossible for a woman to be a published novelist and there is nothing else I want from my life except to write. This is when they suddenly realized who I was. They could not believe I am Eli!

I told them why I felt it best to change my name from Ellie to Eli, aside from fooling the publishers. I had hoped that if my former fiancé does find me he might be disgusted at my masquerade, and so leave me alone. It is a pathetic hope, at best. My sister says he has harassed my family for my whereabouts but they have told him repeatedly that they do not know where to find me. I hope he will not follow Jessie when she comes to visit. The women have assured me the townsolk will see that he is no threat to me, should he dare to set foot in Colorado Springs.

They look forward to meeting my little sister and are already planning her wedding, though to whom, they have not yet decided. I suggested she might like to decide this for herself but they did not listen to me.

We have hatched a plan to let my real circumstance be known. Dorothy is going to tell Loren in "strictest confidence" of my story. We think it will not be long after that that the rest of the townsfolk will know who I am. The ladies have assured me of their support and so, for the first time since my arrival here I am looking forward to, and not dreading tomorrow.

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