Mail Order Roslyn

by Zina Abbott

When two men joined her and Elam in Salina, she scooted across the bench so she sat facing the man she somewhat knew and felt she could trust. With Emmy’s bag, emitting the faint odor of baby urine, placed next to her, she did not worry the man sharing her bench would try to slide over and sit too close.

  She much preferred sitting across Elam Stewart who, in spite of being rather taciturn, struck her as being amiable. She preferred he look at her during the trip rather than to allow two unknown men to stare directly in her face the entire time. As for who she preferred to have before her gaze, Elam certainly was not hard to look at. In spite of having a quiet personality and a face that, although handsome, hardly ever changed expression, and, when it did, only slightly, he did have expressive eyes—dark brown, captivating eyes. Expressive eyes that made her feel appreciated, not leered at or judged.

  Clutching the sleeping child to her chest, Roslyn leaned forward to look out the center window of the opposite door. The first thing she noticed was a sod building with more slabs of sod placed on top of wood rafters. Remnants of partially-dried plant growth on the roof waved with the breeze. The building’s walls appeared to be plastered with whitewash over a coating of dried mud. Instead of a door, the wall surface was broken by three long, narrow windows.

  With the sun overhead, she could not use that to judge direction. However, since they had mostly traveled from east to west, she guessed she was seeing the south wall of the station building.

  To her surprise, the stagecoach did not pull up to the building like it had in other home stations farther east. Of course, it did not. There is no door there. Instead, it swung in a wide arc to the left before it sharply turned right and headed toward what appeared to be a thick sod wall high enough to almost reach the end of the rafters. She glanced out the window on her side as the stagecoach drove through an opening with only about a foot clearance between her side of the conveyance and the end of the wall. She passed a heavy wooden gate with a man standing at the end. As the coach slowed to a stop, she continued to watch the man who, once the stage cleared the gate, rushed to swing it shut and bolt it.

  Once the rocking of the stagecoach settled to a stop, Roslyn felt the dip on the side opposite her as Isaac descended from the driver’s box. It rocked in the other direction as the messenger, Danny, climbed down.

  One of the two passengers who boarded in Salina pushed the door on their side open and they both stepped out of the stage. Following Isaac’s pointing finger, they walked toward what Roslyn guessed was the necessary behind the station building. She pushed Emmy’s bag across the bench next to the exit door. When she leaned forward, her attention was arrested by a middle-aged woman who burst through the door in the long side of the building. With arms outstretched, she fixed her gaze on Isaac Peterson. Although she moved short of running speed, the woman favored her right leg. Roslyn assumed it must be Mrs. Peterson.

  With a twinge of envy and regret, Roslyn watched the older couple embrace. What would it be like to have someone be that happy to see me after an absence?

  Isaac squeezed his wife soundly before he broke from her and started toward the coach. “Caroline, I want you to meet somebody. I brought you some help, and someone you can help at the same time.” Isaac pushed the door all the way open so it rested against the side of the coach. He extended his hand to help Roslyn.

  Clutching a sleeping Emmy with her right arm, Roslyn grasped Isaac’s with her left hand. Her foot sought the built-in step. She found it and stepped outside. Once both feet were on the ground, she smiled at Isaac Peterson’s wife who wore a wide-eyed expression.

  “Caroline, this is Mrs. Roslyn Welsh, lately of Junction City. She barely escaped an unpleasant situation. I was thinking she could help you out some, give you a bit of a break until she figures out what she wants to do next.”

  Roslyn smiled and nodded to the bemused woman who glanced at Emmy before she focused her gaze back on Roslyn. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Peterson.” I’m not lately of Junction City, but he did give me a way out of being trapped there. “Please, call me Roslyn. You have no idea how much I appreciate your husband’s offer. I hope you don’t mind that I brought my baby. I’ll try not to let taking care of her interfere with anything you need my help with.”

  Caroline brushed away her concern with a wave. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. And, to you, I’m Caroline.” She held out both hands. “May I hold her? I miss seeing my grandbabies.”

  At the sound of the horses stamping their hooves, no doubt impatient to be free of their harnesses, Roslyn glanced around. Three young men, two of which looked barely as old as she was, stood several feet away and gawked at her. Unease filled Roslyn. What’s the matter? Haven’t you seen a woman with a baby before?

  Isaac must have also realized his men were neglecting their tasks. He stepped away from his wife’s side and, waving his arms, hollered at the stock tenders. “Get those horses taken care of and the next team ready.”

  Roslyn glanced at the smaller structure opposite the building Mrs. Peterson had come from, and the thick walls constructed of sod bricks surrounding the complex. They connected the two buildings. A corral made from a lower sod wall reinforced by wood connected to the higher wall that surrounded the station. Inside, she saw replacement horses and mules. If this station is as safe from Indian attacks as Isaac said it was, why is it built like a fort?

  An unexpected comfort washed over her as Elam Stewart struggled his way out of the stagecoach and stood close enough to her she sensed the heat of his body against her right arm. She turned and smiled at him. Why am I so relieved he is here with us?

  Roslyn once again faced Caroline Peterson. The unsuspecting woman did not know what she was getting herself into by asking for the baby right then. “I don’t mind you holding her, but Emmy’s soaked. I don’t think the blanket is holding it in, and I’m sure my jacket is going to need rinsing out before I can wear it again. I need to change her, but I waited until I got here. I only have one dry diaper, plus I didn’t want to offend the men I was traveling with.” Not Elam Stewart. He’s seen me change her more than once. “If you have water, I’d like to beg some off you to rinse the others out and maybe wash the two she soiled.”

  “Oh, pshaw! A wet baby doesn’t bother me, and you surely don’t need to beg for the water you need. Let me have that beauty while you gather your things. I’ll help you get settled so you can get her changed and her diapers washed.” Caroline lifted Emmy from Roslyn’s arms as she turned to Elam. “And, you, sir, dinner is ready to set on the table. I’ll get your food as soon as I help Mrs. Welsh so you’ll be ready for the next leg of your journey.”

  “Ain’t no rush on my account, Mrs. Peterson. I’ll be staying here. I’m Elam Stewart, ma’am. Your husband hired me on as a stock tender.”

  “Oh?”

  Roslyn sensed the surprise and doubt in Caroline’s voice. She looked over at the man she first met three days ago in the livery where she had spent some of the most enjoyable hours of the past month—a man who had been an almost constant shadow the past two days. She watched as he slung his knapsack over one shoulder, the strap to his rifle over the other, and picked up his pair of crutches before he once again fully faced Caroline.

  “Yes, ma’am. I know these here crutches don’t speak well for me being a stock tender, and I sure ain’t going to be doing no running about. I was working in a livery back in Junction City before now, so I know there’s passel of jobs I can do. That ain’t all, ma’am. Your husband done hired me for what I can do with this.” He nodded toward the rifle. “He figured I could spend part of my duties guarding the station at night while everyone else gets some shut-eye.”

  Caroline swallowed “I see.” Her soft words hinted that she understood her husband’s decision. She spoke louder. “We haven’t had any trouble in the Ellsworth area since before the station was here, but you never know. I’m happy to have you, Mr. Stewart. Please, come with me.”

  Both Roslyn and Elam followed Caroline insi
de the building.

  Ahead of her and slightly to the left, Roslyn saw a trestle table that dominated the room. Immediately to the left, was the kitchen with a wood-burning stove, a dry sink, and a hutch.

  Caroline turned to Roslyn. “Come with me. If you don’t mind, I’ll put the little one down on my bed while you help me dish up the first table.”

  As long as Emmy stays asleep, I’ll be happy to help all I can.”

  Caroline held out her hand toward three men sitting at the table. One appeared thin and wiry, and the other had a medium build with broad shoulders. The third Roslyn recognized.

  They rose to their feet as the women entered.

  “Since you will be working for us—both you and Mr. Stewart—please allow me to introduce both of you to Mr. Amos Danvers, the driver for the run from Ellsworth to Big Creek station. Next to him is the messenger, Mr. Paul Brown.” She motioned toward the third man. “I assume you met Danny, the messenger who rode with my husband. Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Welsh, who will be helping me for the time being. Also, this is Mr. Stewart, who will be working at the station.”

  After glancing at the solid wall to her right, the height of which ended at the crossbeams of the rafters, Roslyn wrinkled her forehead. What happened to the three windows I saw on the south wall of the building? Then it occurred to her. While still outside in the yard, she had noticed two doors. The building was sectioned off. Hopefully, the stock tenders slept separately from where she would be placed. She took in the two wooden benches—one along the solid wall, and the other straight ahead of her under one of the two narrow windows on the east wall covered by scraped hide to allow in the light. She guessed the coverings could be removed to allow in a breeze, and that the inside shutters could secure the building against winter cold. Or other dangers? Several mattress ticks she suspected were stuffed with straw were stacked in the corner. She wondered if they ever substituted as sleeping cots. Will she put Emmy and me on one of those?

  As if she guessed what Roslyn might be thinking, Caroline pointed to the south wall. “The drivers and messengers staying overnight sleep next door with our stock tenders.” She next pointed to the stuffed ticks. “Any extra guests we might have, they use the floor. I’m going to move one of these mattresses into the storeroom, which is where I’ll put you. We use it mostly for our foodstuffs, but I think I can shift things around to make room for you and the baby. Otherwise, through the day, you may use Isaac’s and my room when you need to.”

  Caroline turned to Elam. “Mr. Stewart, after we finish with the second table, I’m sure my husband will help you get settled in the next room. For the time being, why don’t you put your things against the far wall and join these men plus our two passengers at first table? Please sit on the end where it will be the most convenient for you with your leg. I’ll dish up your meal as soon as I get Mrs. Welsh and her baby situated.”

  As Roslyn watched Elam during this exchange, although she saw no change to his usual stoic expression, she saw a slight flush flash across his cheeks. She suspected Elam felt uncomfortable about being given special treatment because of his leg. She noticed he remained expressionless as he thanked Caroline and followed instructions.

  Roslyn heaved a quiet sigh of relief. She would not be asked to stay in the public room where anyone in the station might walk in on her while she was sleeping or taking care of Emmy.

  Roslyn turned left and followed Caroline toward one of two doors set in the north wall that otherwise supported shelves and equipment. She guessed it to also be an interior wall. Like the south wall, because the top ended where the ceiling rafters began, leaving the attic open.

  The door on the right led to a small bedroom dominated by a double bed on an iron frame, a wash stand, and a chest of drawers. Roslyn walked over to the one narrow window, now uncovered, on the east wall. Through the foot-thick walls, she saw that it opened to outside the station grounds.

  “That’s designed to be used as a gun port, should we come under attack. Over that drop in the land outside is Oak Creek. It’s where we get our water.” She pointed to the north wall, this one solid to the wooden frame of the roof covered by slabs of sod. “The necessaries are on the other side of this wall, so there are no windows, thankfully. I wish we had an extra chamber pot for you. If you decide to stay awhile, I’ll ask Isaac to pick one up on his next trip. While he’s gone, you can use the one in our room. With all these men, those necessaries are nasty.”

  Roslyn smiled. All necessaries are nasty. “Thank you. I’ll make do, Caroline.”

  Caroline’s expression grew serious. “Roslyn, we’ve had no Indian trouble, but if we do, you and I and your baby will hole up in the storeroom, the one I’ll put you and the baby in at night. Isaac doesn’t want me—and now, that includes you and Emmy—in the way while the men are moving between the gun ports to hold off an Indian attack until the soldiers arrive. He keeps a shotgun in there for me, just in case.”

  Roslyn gulped. Although she knew how to fire weapons, she had only shot game with a shotgun. Regardless of her assurances the day before to Elam about being able to use weapons, she did not know how she would feel about aiming a shotgun at another human, even if it was an Indian trying to kill her. I have to be brave. “I know how to shoot, if I have to.”

  “Good. Hopefully, it will never come to that.” Caroline opened a trunk and pulled out a folded white bundle which she shook loose. “I have this apron you can use after you get her settled. When you’re free, I’ll show you what I do at mealtime so you can cover for me if this knee starts acting up too much.”

  While Caroline found a quilt which she left partially folded and placed in the center of the bed for Emmy, Roslyn removed her black Zouave jacket with its even deeper black wet spot. She draped it over the end of the bedstead and gratefully accepted the shoulder-to-hem apron that covered almost all of her white shirtwaist.

  Roslyn left the door open so they could hear Emmy if she woke up. She followed Caroline to the kitchen area where she watched the amount of stew—this one made mostly of ham, potatoes, and a few cooked beans—that her new boss dished into each tin plate with its side deep enough to also serve as a shallow bowl. After Caroline cut slices of bread to the thickness she had in mind, Roslyn balanced a piece on the edge of each plate before she served the food to the diners. Someone had already poured coffee into the cups of the three men originally seated, but Roslyn grabbed the pot and refilled cups all the way around.

  Both passengers who shared the coach with her from Salina entered.

  Roslyn ignored their initial expressions of surprise at seeing her helping to serve the meal. They sat at the table and introduced themselves to the other men.

  After checking to be sure Emmy still slept, Caroline motioned to Roslyn. “Come with me. I’ll show you where the water barrel is. The men use a horse or mule rigged with oak caskets to haul the water up from Oak Creek to keep it filled. You can get water any time you need it.” Caroline grabbed a metal bucket, and Roslyn followed her out the door. Shortly after they returned and put the water on the wood-burning stove to start heating, the men at the first table—all except Danny and Elam—stood, and thanked their hostess for the meal. They left the station to board the stagecoach.

  Danny rose from the bench. “Delicious meal, as always, Mrs. Peterson. I’ll be outside."

  Caroline invited Elam to sit on a bench by one of the walls.

  “Thank you, ma’am. If it won’t put you out none, I’d like to wander around inside and get a look-see how the place is set up. Reckon I can check on the rest of the station later.”

  Caroline blinked and then smiled. “Certainly, Mr. Stewart.” She pointed toward the north inside door that Roslyn left cracked open so she could hear Emmy. “Please try not to wake the baby when you check the window in the bedroom.”

  About the time he made the rounds of the house, including the glass window next to the door that opened to the station yard and provided light to the cooking and eating area, Is
aac and the three stock tenders Roslyn had seen earlier entered and took their places at the table.

  Once again, introductions were made, this time by Isaac.

  Roslyn felt ill at ease as the young men eyed her with interest and glimmers of lust. I’m not here to be your entertainment, so get those thoughts out of your minds.

  As she dished up stew and added a slice of bread for each, she noticed the suspicious questions the stock tenders asked about and directed toward Elam. With his crutched on the floor and wooden leg outstretched off to the side on the bench under the east window, his limitations were obvious to them all.

  Elam responded—or, more to the point, did not respond—as though the situation bothered him. Fortunately, Isaac answered most of the questions and kept the conversation from getting out of control.

  Elam has to feel uncomfortable. Some of the comments are downright rude. Ignoring her grumbling stomach, Roslyn folded her arms and stood by the back wall as the men ate. She turned with a smile as Caroline joined her and handed her stew and bread.

  Caroline chuckled as she leaned toward Roslyn. “Sometimes, I join them, but other times, I figure I’ll have plenty of time to sit and enjoy the silence after they eat and return to work.”

  Roslyn suspected she would probably follow that pattern, especially if these stock tenders always behaved as they did this day. She felt comfortable around Isaac, but after what she was witnessing, she felt no need to become overly friendly with the stock tenders. It was best to keep her distance. She was going to have a difficult enough time managing things once Ross showed up and began helping take care of the horses and mules.

  What a temptation, though, to walk over and share the bench with Elam Stewart. In the almost two days they had traveled together, she had grown comfortable in his presence. His courtesy and sensitivity to her needs and the challenges of traveling with an infant had touched a part of her deep inside. Maybe it would signal to the oafs at the table that she thought no less of him because he lost a leg in the war.