She pushed the Bible toward him. “Here. I’m surprised to find it in your collection.”
“Law books weren’t the only thing I read while in jail.” He waved her offering away. “Keep it for now. Maybe reading it will do you some good. How much time do you require before you’re ready?”
Caroline tucked the book under her arm. “I’ve got chores to complete before I can get clean. Can you come back?”
“No need. I’ll finish the chores while you get ready.” He began unbuttoning his suit coat.
She’d thought she was prepared for an avalanche of charm, but she hadn’t considered how appealing his offer of help made him.
He pulled off his coat and swung the door closed to look for a hook to hang it on. The room darkened instantly. Caroline swallowed. She’d never been in a room alone with Frisco. He was still a man who had once held her under his spell, and despite the conflict, he hadn’t lost all of his allure.
“I suppose I should ask permission before hanging my coat over your gowns,” he said.
“I can put them on the bed.”
“Don’t bother.” He hooked his coat over her sapphire skirt. “I’d forgotten how much I liked this place.” They were still in the dark. The earthen walls seemed to swallow up every sound as soon as it was uttered, making each more precious. “The dirt here has such a clean scent.”
Good, because she was covered in it. But he was acting so noble that she felt he deserved some credit. “You did a fine job building this place,” she said. “Without it I wouldn’t have dared to stay here alone.”
“I orchestrated my own demise.” He unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeve.
“Come now,” Caroline said. “You seem happy in town.”
“I’d be happier in my own town.”
“Why are you going to help me if you want me to fail?”
Frisco looked up from fiddling with his sleeve. His eyes narrowed, twitching like he was surprised to see something that he hadn’t seen before. “I’d never cheer for the failure of someone as valiant as you, my dear Miss Adams. But I will pray that you find your success on someone else’s property.”
Caroline brushed her hair back with bruised fingers. He thought she was valiant? Had his opinion of her improved, or was he trying to chip away at her resolve? “Thank you for your prayers, Mr. Smith, however misguided they are. Are you really going to help me water the garden?”
“Not the garden, no. Those plants don’t need water yet, and by the time they do, it’ll probably rain. In fact, with rain more than likely, I’m going to shore up the roof to make sure no tin blows off. I want to protect my property. Can’t have all my belongings getting wet.”
“If you want your things, then please take them.” She picked up a washrag from her linens. “Otherwise I might charge you for the storage of your goods.”
“Patience, woman,” he said. “I’ve acquired a client, and he has undertaken building me a house to pay his fees.”
“I see.” She couldn’t keep herself from looking at the house plans she’d sketched and pinned to the wall.
Frisco followed her gaze. “What’s this?” He rested his forearm on the wall as he leaned in to see in the dim light. “Is this the house you want?”
“Yes. Surrounded by lavender and mint.”
“One hundred and sixty acres is a lot of herbs.”
“I’ll expand slowly.”
“But this house looks reasonable.”
“You’re the first person to tell me so.” She really should start getting ready, but Bucky was short on conversation. Having someone to talk to was a rare treat. “And your house,” she said, “once it’s completed, you’ll haul your things out of here?”
“On the contrary, once the house is completed, I’ll have something to offer you in trade. Until then, I want to make sure this roof is secure. Now, let me get to work before it’s too late. I was hoping to take a beautiful lady to the dance tonight.” He winked, then left, closing the door behind him.
“I am beautiful,” she yelled at the tin roof above her head. She waited, listening for his laugh. There it was. How she’d listened for that ringing laugh back when she lived at the fort. That sound meant an exciting guest at her father’s dinner table. It meant that she’d be treated like a grown-up. It meant a glimpse of someone who lived life freely, not regimented by the call of the bugle and drum.
Caroline wadded the rag in her hand. As dismal as the day had been, Frisco, her supposed enemy, had redeemed it. Even if he didn’t mean a word he said, he was taking her to a dance, and she was going to have fun. Bradley could take his opinions, throw them in the pond, and see how they floated, for all she cared. And Amber—well, she’d worry about Amber later. Caroline would find a way to win her over.
She took the rag to the river to scrub her hands and arms to remove the dirt and the grubby feeling of a conflict with friends. Funny how the prospect of good company could restore one’s spirits. Frisco whistled some Irish jig above her as he stacked rocks along the edges of the tin roof that lay even with the ground at the top of the bank.
She rubbed the rough rag up and down her neck, knowing that her sensitive skin would turn as red as a turkey’s wattle. The curse of her coloring. She rolled her sleeves as high as she could to wash her arms, since her evening gown would bare them. A crash sounded behind her as Frisco dropped another rock on the edge of the sheet of tin. Was he trying to destroy the dugout?
“Careful,” she said. “You don’t want to get dirty.”
“I have another shirt in the house,” he answered. “Unless you threw it out.”
“What kind of beast do you take me for?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t answer that question.” He stood on the roof, one foot planted atop a rock, and watched as she finished at the river. “This really is the prettiest spot in the territory. I chose well.”
“Just wait until I get my house and gardens in,” she said. “Now, mind your own business while I change my dress.”
“I’ll stay up here.”
Back inside, Caroline thought about lighting a lamp but then decided that dressing in the dark might be safer. Another stone thudded, and dirt salted the room. She’d better hurry, or she was going to need another cleaning in the river. She shimmied out of her skirt and reached for the blue one on the back of the door. Her fingers fell on Frisco’s coat. Curious, she gathered it to her face. It smelled of leather. She’d seen the beaten bag he carried. Undoubtedly this coat had been in there, since the rest of his belongings were with her. The summer fabric crumpled between her fingers. She’d always wanted Frisco’s attention. Now, for good or ill, she had it. She took her skirt off the hook and hung the coat back in its place.
After four days alone in this place, Caroline didn’t want to miss out on a moment of company. Checking twice that her bodice covered her waistband, she sat on the bed and unlaced her boots, tossed her socks aside for some finer stockings, and slid on her newest slippers. She picked up her hand mirror, but the light was too dim. Taking her mirror and brush, she went outside to the riverbank.
“You about ready?” Frisco asked from the roof of the dugout.
“Not quite.”
With sure hands, she pulled the pins holding up her twisted braid. It fell heavily down her back. Should she keep her preparations to a minimum and not give him more reason to think her frivolous? She pulled the auburn rope over her shoulder and unraveled the braid. It was then she realized that Frisco hadn’t resumed his whistling. In fact, it was suspiciously quiet behind her.
She whisked her brush through the ends of her hair to clear the snarls before she worked her way up through the thick strands. She wouldn’t hurry. Her grandmother had always said that her hair was one of her better features, so she’d take her time. Frisco could think what he wanted.
When her hair reached its silky best, she put down her brush. Her curiosity piqued, she picked up the mirror to take a look over her shoulder. What was he doing? His reflection was grinning
back at her.
“That color is so beautiful, it’s gonna make the evening sky jealous,” he said.
She lowered the mirror. His comment was like the exaggerated compliments he used to pay her in front of her father. Something to irritate the major and flatter a silly young girl.
Well, she wasn’t a silly young girl, and the thought that he didn’t know the difference irritated her. Dropping the mirror, she gathered a section of her hair to start a braid. Frisco might not take her seriously, but she still had a reputation to uphold. She couldn’t show up at a society event with no more preparation than a normal workday, of which she’d had very few in her life.
“If you’re done inside, I’d like to take a look at the walls and make sure they aren’t in danger of crumbling,” Frisco said.
With a hairpin in her mouth and both hands lifted to her head, she nodded.
Once he was gone, it took her no time at all to finish. The reflection in the mirror pleased her except for a spot of dirt that she’d missed. She licked her finger and rubbed at it, only to find it was a new freckle. She wrinkled her nose, which did nothing to balance the unsophistication of the freckle. Was there any powder in the things Louisa had sent from the fort? Caroline lifted her chin and smoothed her coif. She’d have to see.
The dance wouldn’t be as elaborate as the ones in Galveston, and for that she was glad. She couldn’t look forward to seeing old friends, though, because the town hadn’t existed a week ago. Frisco was the only person she knew there. Guiltily she thought of how much Amber would have enjoyed going to town instead of spending another night in her tent, but Amber wouldn’t want to go with her after Caroline’s fight with Bradley. No use in asking.
Caroline met Frisco at the door of the dugout. He stepped aside so she could put her brush and mirror away. She noticed her socks hadn’t been picked up and kicked them under the bed, even though he’d already walked over them while she was outside.
“Should I take a wrap?” she asked.
He looked at her white arms. “If you get chilly, you can have my coat.”
“Oh, there’s my powder. Excuse me.”
Frisco stood at the door, watching the river roll past until she’d hidden the freckle.
“There,” she said. “As long as the goat is safe to leave behind, then I suppose I’m ready.”
“The goat is the safest one among us.”
The walk to Plainview was less than a mile. They discussed whether they were trespassing as they crossed someone else’s claim on their way to town but settled for staying away from the tent on the property. As there were no fences, they couldn’t be sure where a road should have been. Frisco claimed that surveyors would come out to mark roads, but the waiting list was long. A breeze had picked up and swept away the afternoon heat.
“What would your father say about us going to a dance together?” Frisco asked.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? If you’re still flattering me to annoy him, then you’re wasting your time.”
“Why? Has your father’s opinion of me changed?”
Her sleeve felt like it was slipping off her shoulder. She tugged it up. “If you wanted to know what he thinks, maybe you should’ve invited him to the dance.”
“If I thought he’d get me my land, I would’ve.”
“And here I thought you asked me to accompany you just so Deputy McFarland wouldn’t have the pleasure.”
“I admit I do feel a sense of possessiveness toward you. It’s entirely unwarranted and inappropriate, but I’m not one to hide from the truth.” His eyes gleamed speculatively as he waited for her response.
“I . . . you . . .” Caroline rubbed her gloves on her bare arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. This outing was ill-advised from the start. You’ll gain nothing from me tonight. You might as well find another lady who will look on you more favorably.”
“On the contrary, you are exactly who I need at my side tonight. While my accomplishments are impressive considering my age, my upbringing has left me rough around the edges. I can’t pretend to belong to the same set as many of the men who have found themselves in power already, but it’s a new town—a new territory. No one has any history here.” He bent suddenly and plucked an Indian blanket flower out of the tall grass. “While there’s no established aristocracy here, if there were one, it’d be the family of the commander who resides just inside the border of the reservation to our west.”
Caroline took the offered flower, then stopped to rip the stem off short and push it into her hair arrangement. “Once again, you imagine that my family relations give you leave to toy with my emotions.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize your emotions were engaged. I can take you back to the dugout. . . .”
“I have my own invitation to the dance,” she said and took out over the grasslands. “I’m going with or without you.”
“With. You are most assuredly going with me,” he said.
And this time Caroline didn’t argue.
Chapter fifteen
Was he toying with her emotions? Frisco hadn’t thought that grown-up Caroline would give him a second glance. Years ago, when she was an obstinate, opinionated young lady, she seemed to enjoy the annoyance he caused her father. All those times she’d followed Frisco to the door as Lieutenant Hennessey was escorting him back to the guardhouse, he’d known she was intrigued by him and didn’t care a jot if her father disapproved. But she was beyond his reach now. Surely she’d had better opportunities in the time they’d been separated.
To be fair, she was still obstinate and opinionated. That set of her jaw when she refused to leave his land probably wasn’t appreciated in the fine dining rooms of the seaside gentry. And then there was her propensity to ride bareback astride a horse if she was of a mind. He hoped she hadn’t broken that habit as well.
But in the newborn town of Plainview, she was high society and the perfect prop for his show. Perhaps the only reason she had agreed to go with him was guilt. If attending a dance would assuage her conscience, he’d accept—and then figure out how to prick it again.
The progress made in town in four days was remarkable. Nearly half the lots had some roughhewn framework up. Several buildings had roofs and the beginnings of walls. A few structures were completed. The people were wasting no time, as he could attest from the hammers ringing throughout the night.
“This is really going to be a city,” Caroline said. Dressed in her sapphire finery, she didn’t look like someone who’d be impressed with the new construction, but Frisco loved that she was.
“That’s been the plan all along,” he said, “but even I’m surprised how quickly it’s happening.”
“All except for the bank.” Caroline pointed to the row of bricks on the low wall that was visible across the empty lots. “They haven’t made much progress. I would think getting the walls up would be a priority for them.”
“Their priority is taking in money. With so much business starting, they don’t have time for construction. I find myself in the same predicament. I’m busy from morning to evening speaking with clients. No time to look after putting a building on the lot. Thankfully I’ve got Patrick to supervise Mr. Nesbitt as the work goes up.” And now that he’d seen her house plans, he knew exactly what his house would look like.
Wagon ruts and footpaths were finally defining the streets between the city lots. On either side, piles of lumber and rolls of tar paper hulked. By consensus, any unwanted scraps of building supplies were left near the street, where women and children picked over them, hoping to find the right-sized material for a smaller project.
“It’s exciting,” Frisco said, “to see what’s in the imagination of all these people. The town is being formed as we watch.” He pointed to a crane being guided with a counterweight to hoist a bell up high. Before the houses were even finished, they were starting on a church.
“Who’s Patrick? What’s he doing for you?” Caroline asked.
With his hands clasped behin
d his back, Frisco jerked his head to the side. “Follow me.” Maybe it was a mistake to show her the beginnings of the house, but he wanted her to see what he saw. To understand that she could be part of a community from the start, and that it would be infinitely more rewarding than going it alone.
Patrick’s family had just gathered for supper. Millie dished out boiled turnips from a cast-iron pot hanging over a fire while Patrick handed a plate to Jonathan, who sat next to his dog. Frisco had turned to leave the street when Caroline stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“I don’t want to disturb them.”
“Nonsense. They’ll be glad to meet you.”
“Why?”
Frisco was surprised by the uncertainty on her face. “Because you are someone who is worth knowing.”
“Because of my family?” Her lips tightened, and her chin rose.
“Lay down the hatchet,” he said. “Come on.”
He took her by the elbow and led her toward the family. Patrick stood, removed his hat, and smiled wide. Millie, on the other hand, took one look at Caroline and stepped back, keeping the fire between them.
“Miss Adams, may I present to you Mr. Patrick Smith, Mrs. Smith, and their son, Jonathan.”
“Don’t forget Chauncey,” Jonathan said.
“And Chauncey,” Frisco added. Chauncey wagged his tail furiously. “Smith family, this is Miss Adams.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Caroline said. “I know the last name is common, but are you and Frisco related?”
Patrick guffawed. “As family as you’ll get from any of us. We were both in the same home, and they named all of us foundlings Smith. Going by their logic, I have more brothers than Father Abraham has sons.”
“Foundlings?” Caroline turned to Frisco.
Frisco shot Patrick a warning glance. Not here and not with her. “Patrick was planning to live in Redhawk—my town by the river,” he said. “Since that didn’t happen, he and his family are staying here for a spell.”
“I’m helping a carpenter build him a house,” Patrick answered. “He can’t keep meeting with clients in a tent.”
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