Cythia Macgold was atop the train's steps to the exit. She was immediately attacked by the competing odors. The fresh, evergreen wind off the Rockies and the smoky haze from the small town and the train's mechanical steam odor were at odds. It supplied the tens of thousands of miners in the area, despite having only a few hundred residents.
She adjusted the bustle of her dress and tucked the small pillow she had been sitting on under her arm. Fortunately, her dress did not have the full bustle that was common in the East during the Victorian era; Otherwise, it would have been impossible to endure the train ride.
When she looked down, she saw her three traveling companions looking back at her. Two of the three had very different looks from the town's inhabitants.