The Major's Daughter

by Regina Jennings

  As for Bradley, his first task of the day was to seal the raw lumber of his house before it became vittles for termites. The sealant was best applied before the heat of the day had it drying in the pan.

  But even before that, he knew of a situation that needed addressing. He took out past his property and soon came upon Caroline Adams.

  With a bucket of water and a bar of fancy pink soap, she was kneeling on the ground and washing something. What was it? A goat? Bradley rolled his eyes. She had no business trying to homestead, but who was he to judge?

  Getting irritated came easily for him, but holding a grudge required too much concentration. He’d rather clear the air and have it behind them. Letting his big, open grin spread on his face, he marched up to her.

  “Where in the world did you get that?” he asked.

  She glanced up to see who was talking to her, then quickly lowered her eyes. “It came with the property,” she said while holding the young goat still and pouring water over its back.

  Bradley could tell she was uncomfortable. No sense in letting it go any longer. He was a happy man and wanted the people around him to be happy too. “We missed you at the wedding,” he said.

  Caroline lowered the bucket and looked at him again. “I’m sorry, Bradley. I thought I could come, but then I realized I had already committed to an event in town.” The goat hopped away when she took her hand off it. “It was something I was doing on Frisco’s behalf.”

  Now, that was interesting. Bradley wished Amber was here to hear it. “Let me guess. You were at the land office, deeding the claim to him.”

  “I haven’t been to the land office yet.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten about your name being on the sooner list. But now that Major Adams got that fixed—”

  Caroline’s eyes flashed. “My name is on a list of illegal participants? Did you do that?”

  “Good grief!” He stood on one foot and leaned forward, balancing like an acrobat. “It wasn’t me, Caroline. I came over to tell you that I’m willing to overlook what you did to Frisco, and you make another accusation. I saw you on the start line. If you think I’d perjure myself to even a score, then you don’t think much of me at all.”

  Finally she was listening to him. Her mouth turned down. “Now that you put it that way . . . but it’s the first I’ve heard of it. If you didn’t do it, then who did?”

  Bradley would have never made a good teacher. He no more than introduced a topic than he was bored with it and ready to move on to another. “Frisco told your pa that he figured he knew who did it. And your pa has already talked to the board and had it removed.”

  “It better not have been one of those deputies. They’re already in enough trouble.” Her eyes narrowed, and Bradley didn’t want to imagine the punishments she was concocting for whoever had crossed her.

  “The point is, it wasn’t me, and it’s already taken care of. What I came to tell you was that if you and Frisco are square with each other, then I have no business holding a grudge. As far as I’m concerned, this feud is settled, and we can be good neighbors.” He cocked his head. “Is that the lay of it, or am I missing something?”

  Caroline’s arms were crossed. She tapped her fingers against her elbow. “Don’t you worry about Frisco and me. I’d say we’ve overcome our differences.” She stepped forward and extended her hand. “To neighbors and to family.”

  Bradley grinned as he heartily shook her hand. “And glory be when someone can be both.”

  The money had been returned. Not wanting to interact with McFarland any more than necessary, Frisco had sent Patrick with the money and had received confirmation that McFarland had acknowledged it with annoyance. It would cost Frisco. Without the money, he was looking at incurring a considerable debt if Caroline didn’t give in. And now he wasn’t even sure he wanted her to.

  He watched as Caroline dipped her pen in the inkwell, then tapped off the excess. He had the prettiest assistant imaginable. Here in Plainview, Frisco’s law practice was in great demand. His plaintiffs were awaiting word on whether they’d be granted a hearing. From that hearing might come a court case, but it was Frisco’s hope that once he produced his evidence, the Premiers of Plainview would for once do the decent thing and leave town, saving them all time and wasted money before the board.

  Even without the fight over the lots, there was plenty for a lawyer to do. The whole territory was filled with new businesses that needed paperwork drawn up. Partnerships were being formed as neighbors met neighbors and those who could have been rivals decided to join forces.

  Building a civilization wasn’t for the idle. A month earlier this spot had been home only to prairie dogs, grasshoppers, and white-tailed deer. Look how much they’d accomplished since then. And the townspeople had accomplished it together. With every passing day, the thought of starting over with a new group of settlers lost more of its allure.

  His office was in the front room of his nearly finished house. A Choctaw furniture maker had brought a wagonload of furniture into town, and Frisco had agreed to buy the desk without even asking what it cost. Someday he’d need a large, impressive bureau to kick his feet up on, but for now Caroline needed a space of her own where she could turn his scribbled notes into neatly penned documents. The elegant curves of the walnut desk fit her, and she seemed to enjoy having her own space there. If that was what it took to get her to come more often and stay longer, Frisco would keep sitting on his cot and meeting clients with a notebook on his lap.

  Again she dipped her pen in the inkwell and darted a glance at him. “I know what I’m doing,” she said. “No need to watch me.”

  Oh, there was need. But ever since their fiery encounter, they had observed proper boundaries. There was no room for mistakes in their relationship. Her reputation and his honor were too precious to be tarnished, and his enemies were already looking for an opportunity to discredit him.

  “I’ve got a tough choice to make,” he said. “I can’t decide what looks better: you sitting serenely at a desk with your hair arranged perfectly and wearing a becoming gown, or you carrying water to my garden with mud beneath your fingernails and your hair mussed.”

  “My lavender starts don’t take much water, but it’s been dry. I’ll wait until the heat passes, then I need to get back. I don’t want to be out after dark—”

  “Caroline, have you ever thought about living in town?” Every scratch of her pen on the paper sounded like a screech as he waited for her answer.

  “You’ve mentioned it before,” she said, “because you wanted my land, if I remember correctly.” She kept her head bent over the contract she was working on.

  “But if you had a choice, if you were planning your future, for a life, for a family, would you rather be closer to the center of town instead of living next to a railroad?” Dust motes danced in the light coming through the shutters. How could they float peacefully when his heart was pounding so?

  “And do what in town?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t have to haul water and firewood for guests, at least. Instead, you could have your beautiful gardens here while you organize social events and plan the betterment of a new society. More importantly, I think you’d enjoy assisting in a law practice . . . and perhaps being married to a prominent citizen.” The sound of his breathing echoed in the quiet room, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “I don’t remember any prominent citizens proposing marriage to me.” She dipped her pen again.

  “It’s bound to happen,” he shot back. “Especially as word spreads about what an asset you are.”

  “They’ll propose to me for my secretarial skills?” She tipped up her head, showing off her delicate jawline. “I always thought my one-hundred-and-sixty-acre farm was my best feature.”

  With a wave, Frisco dismissed that idea. “Who cares about an old farm when they can live where all the excitement is?”

  Was she listening? Was she thinking about his offer? But before he dar
ed more, he saw Junior Flatts coming toward his door. Mr. Flatts was an assistant to Mr. Robberts and Mr. Admire, the Register of Deeds and the Receiver of Public Moneys at the Kingfisher Land Office. They were the men who oversaw disputed claims.

  Frisco stood and opened the door. This was the moment.

  Mr. Flatts took one look at the pretty woman at the desk and said, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Mr. Smith.”

  “Come on in. Miss Adams, may I introduce you to Mr. Flatts? He’s working with the land office and the courts.”

  “Adams?” Flatts asked in a tone as dull as his name. “Seems like the major at the fort has a daughter about your age.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Caroline answered. “Should I excuse myself for this conversation?”

  Frisco shook his head. “I assume Mr. Flatts is here concerning the allegations against the Premiers.”

  “That’s right. We’ve received your notice of contest at the Land Office. I’m here to see if your evidence merits a hearing before the Register and Receiver.”

  “And I’m happy to oblige.”

  It didn’t take long for Mr. Flatts to get the gist of Frisco’s argument, and when he produced the photograph he’d obtained from the photographer, Mr. Flatts’s placid face twitched in surprise.

  “Nice of them to create evidence like this for you.”

  “They thought they were strengthening their claim.”

  “This case is destined for a hearing, I’d say. Can you appear before the board on Thursday?”

  “Thursday?” Things were happening more quickly than he’d hoped. “That would be superb.”

  “Thursday it is. You’ll present the evidence against the men, and then your plaintiffs need to testify as to why they are the logical beneficiaries of the land. If they can prove they ran the race fairly and arrived at Plainview in a timely manner, that should be sufficient.” Mr. Flatts winked at Caroline. “This man has done a lot to help preserve the integrity of our little contest. No doubt he told you about all the help he was on the day of the race.”

  Caroline pursed her lips. “I understand he was so busy recording the names of wrongdoers that he almost missed out on securing a property at all.”

  This wasn’t a safe topic. Frisco went to open the door. “Well, all’s well that ends well. We’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “It won’t end well for the Premiers of Plainview, and it didn’t end well for a lot of the people you reported.” Mr. Flatts reached into a pocket on his leather vest. “I understand this belongs to you. Mr. Robberts thanks you for your assistance. I suppose your secretary takes care of your paperwork.”

  No. He mustn’t do that. Frisco reached out a hand, but Flatts had spun and was putting the folded list right in the worst place in the world for it to land. Frisco’s throat squeezed the breath out of him. He should have told her. Why hadn’t he told her?

  “You’ll receive a summons about the hearing the same day the defendants do. It might get unfriendly, so prepare yourself.”

  But Mr. Flatts’s words were drowned out by the roar in Frisco’s ears. Caroline unfolded the list. Her head bent forward as she held it up to read.

  “Thank you, Mr. Flatts.” Frisco fought the urge to shove him out the door. “I’ll be looking for that summons, yes, sir. You can count on me.” And he shut the door before Mr. Flatts had made it down the porch steps.

  The last line—that was where he’d written her name. That was where he’d made the instant decision to question whether she’d been honest or not. The last line was exactly where her eyes were planted.

  “You turned this list over to the land office?” She held the paper daintily, but the knuckles on her other hand gripped the desk with force. “It’s your handwriting.”

  “I couldn’t believe that you beat me there. It seemed impossible.”

  “Did you think I was lying?”

  “I’d already talked to dozens of people, and they all lied through their teeth—”

  “According to you.”

  “And I was furious. If I’d had a chance to simmer down—”

  “I blamed Bradley.” She lowered the paper to the desk and turned away to gaze out the glassless window.

  “I apologize. I’ll apologize to him too.”

  “I shouldn’t have accused him. Bradley wouldn’t do that. Not to his friend.”

  Frisco couldn’t protest, because he knew she was right. Bradley might give you a dressing down and threaten to box you if you didn’t straighten up, but he’d never report anyone to the authorities. Not like this.

  Caroline turned in her chair. “How can I aid you in your cases if there’s concern that you might be falsely accusing people?”

  Frisco stayed by the door. Minutes earlier he’d laid his heart out to her. He’d offered her everything he had, but she hadn’t answered him. Was this going to be her excuse?

  “I should’ve told you,” he said, “but I tried to forget about it myself.” He took a deep breath. He had known that he’d aimed too high in shooting for Caroline. He’d known that he was bound to mess up and lose her. He just hadn’t thought it would be about something so paltry. “If this changes things between us, I understand.”

  “What are you saying?” She stood, her green eyes vivid against her pale face. “I’m the one offended, but you’re telling me to go?”

  “You don’t have to leave, but I really messed up. If I were in your position . . .”

  The hard lines of her face melted into something more sorrowful. “Of course,” she said. “If it meant jeopardizing your property, you would leave me, because the property comes first, right? I tremble to think how quickly you would’ve forgotten about me had I not been holding your prize. Thank you for the reminder.”

  She took her gloves off the corner of the desk and her bonnet from the new mantel. “I’m sorry for you, Frisco. Sorry that you don’t give me more credit, but it turns out that your prophecy fulfills itself. If you insist that your mistake will come between us, then who am I to argue? Good day.”

  Numb, Frisco watched as she walked out the door and down the grassy road away from him. This was why he’d sought to be the owner of his town, because people did just leave, even ones who claimed to be steadfast. You couldn’t count on anyone, or maybe he couldn’t count on himself not to mess everything up.

  But he had been right all along. For all her talk about staying true, he’d found the one thing to drive her away. He would let her go if that was what she wanted. He was an expert at saying good-bye. He’d show Caroline there was one thing he was good at.

  A crying woman garnered compassion. Men would offer assistance. Women would shed a tear in sympathy. Nearly everyone felt some tenderness toward a damsel in distress. Caroline’s problem was that she couldn’t cry. Instead she only grew angry.

  Newly named Harrison Street was empty. A dog resting on a new porch stood as she approached, but with a whine it lowered its head, tucked its tail, and hid beneath a wagon. No one would feel sorry for her. So Frisco had hurt her feelings? She wasn’t supposed to have feelings anyway. But it wasn’t his accusation that had hurt. Her name on that list wasn’t the end of the world. The true injury was that he’d given up on their relationship so easily.

  The thought of going back to her dugout added weight to her steps. She’d begun to think of it as temporary. She’d begun to see it as a place to tarry until she could find an excuse to go back to town, because now town was where she wanted to be. Plainview needed her. With a partner like Frisco, she could accomplish a lot for that western settlement.

  She’d been willing to trade the dream of her boardinghouse for one with him, but not if he held so lightly to their relationship.

  The gurgling river failed to calm her as she reached her property. Frisco had been clear about what he wanted. He wanted this land. He’d even admitted when helping her with the roof, with the crops, that he was protecting his investment with the hopes of recovering it someday. Was t
his courtship his final attempt? Instead of adoring her red hair, was it the red dirt of her fields that he found more irresistible?

  Chapter twenty-six

  I reckon the Premiers of Plainview got their summons.” Mr. Lacroix unscrewed his canteen and took a short draw from it. “Leaving tonight for Kingfisher, are we?”

  “Yes. I told the other plaintiffs to meet there about tomorrow noon. I managed to catch a few men who partnered with me on an earlier venture and added them to the suit as well. If we win this case, there should be enough lots freed up for people like y’all who missed out. We’ll stay the night in Kingfisher, then be ready for the board hearing in the morning.” Frisco shifted so he was in the shade of his porch. He spent every moment looking down the road, praying that Caroline would come, but he’d been foolish to hope. Hadn’t he always told himself not to count on people?

  “Think there’ll be trouble on the way?” Lacroix asked.

  “Be prepared. There’s a lot at stake, but I know this area well. I can get you there safely.” Frisco had spent enough time skirting the troopers that he knew he could travel between the two points unobserved. The woman standing in the street wasn’t as successful.

  She was neat, petite, and confused. She squinted at the neighbor’s yard as if she were searching for something.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” Frisco called.

  Lacroix took another swig from his canteen as the woman came over with tiny steps.

  “Yes, sir. I’m trying to locate a man by the name of Frisco Smith.”

  Her severe taffeta suit fit her small frame, still strong and trim even though she had passed her prime. She clutched a modest traveling bag with tarnished brass buckles. Nice enough at one time, but, like Frisco’s bag, it had seen some wear.

  “You’ve come to the right place, ma’am. I’m Mr. Smith.”

  Her smile trembled. Her chin quivered. “Of course you are.” She switched her bag to her other hand. “I’m Franny Hunter and I’ve come looking for you. Is this your place?” Her head lifted to follow the house all the way to its eaves.