by Zina Abbott
Roslyn shifted her eyes side to side as she considered the suggestion, and then she nodded. “I’ll try it. I don’t like to wear the binding either, especially now I’ve had the baby.” She picked up the hem of the skirt made with seven widths of yard-wide fabric. “What if these skirt legs flap around too much? They still could get hung up on something or spook the animals.”
Caroline thought about the question several seconds before she answered. “We can make three long, narrow ties to go around your waist. If you need to hold the bottom snug to your ankles, you can remove two ties and wrap them around your legs a few inches above the hem. We can even add little loops on the outside seam you can thread them through to hold them in place.”
The two women took several hours each of work over two days to finish the project. Roslyn had been doubtful at first, but she allowed Caroline to use Ross’s old trousers as a guide. After she sewed the crotch section, she noticed it had taken up some of the length. Roslyn decided it worked out well. The hem of the new garment came to her ankles, but her boots covered her feet.
When they finished, Caroline clapped her hands together, wearing a pleased expression. “I think they look flattering on you, Roslyn, and not in the least revealing or suggestive. My daughter has a particular interest in fashion. She says women’s skirts are now not as wide in either the front or the sides. The only hint of a crinoline is a small hump in back they call a bustle to draw attention to a womanly shape.”
Roslyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to draw attention to that part of my womanly shape, or anywhere else on me. I just need something to wear I can work in.” Roslyn made her debut in her new work outfit the Saturday Isaac returned to the station. Every day before then, Eustace had taken the opportunity to approach her with a warning not to get used to the job because Isaac would put an end to it once he saw her working in men’s clothes.
Like she did every day, Roslyn wore her one calico gown covered by the apron Caroline supplies her when she helped serve the dinner meal. Once the men returned to work and she cleaned up the kitchen, Roslyn entered her storage room to feed Emmy and to change. To blouse her shirt out, she plucked at it above the three loosely tied fabric belts. She had attached her knife sheath to one of the ties. Next, she straightened the tails that ended at the top of her thighs. The fitted fabric camisole held her breasts in place comfortably. She had braided her hair and pinned it at the back of her head. Most of the locks she had cut short in Junction City were now long enough to stay inside the braid. Ross’s floppy slouch hat covered the top of her head and half her forehead. She wore her gloves. Without the weight of a petticoat and gathered skirt, the new outfit felt much lighter.
Wearing her new work outfit, Roslyn entered the main room once more and walked over to where Isaac and Caroline sat on the bench with their backs leaning against the wall.
Caroline nudged Isaac’s arm. “Look what Roslyn and I have been up to the last couple of days. You won’t find it in any of the fashion plates, but we think she’ll be able to work in it better than a gown.”
Isaac canted his head and studied Roslyn as she slowly turned in place. He nodded. “I don’t know much about women’s fashions, but it looks fine to me. Based on Eustace’s complaints when he caught me outside after dinner, I expected to see you in men’s trousers. What you’ve got on doesn’t look like anything most men would wear.”
“I was wearing my brother’s old trousers. Caroline helped me come up with this split skirt. I won’t know until I’ve been with the animals for a few hours how well these clothes will work out.”
Isaac clapped his palms to his knees and rose from the bench. “Well, let’s find out. I’d like to see what it is you do for the livestock. And, don’t you worry about Eustace. Those men answer to me. If I tell them what you’re wearing is suitable, they have nothing more to say about it.”
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Chapter 13
~o0o~
May 17-18, 1866
A lthough Roslyn felt like she had slipped into a comfortable routine at the Ellsworth Station, she still sensed an overall unease. She had yet to leave the station, but the men took turns going into the small town of Ellsworth with the driver who stayed over from Saturday night to Monday morning. The gossip they brought back about Indian attacks on settlers or the stations farther west unsettled her.
I’m putting Emmy in danger by being here.
Fortunately, she had Caroline to keep her from over-reacting. Roslyn appreciated her help and companionship. Although Roslyn did her best to not take advantage, Caroline’s willingness to justify her time resting her knee by watching Emmy meant a great deal. Unlike her aunt, Mena, her mother’s sister, Caroline was like the mother Roslyn had lost when she was the age of six. Like a loving grandmother, she paid attention to the baby during Emmy’s awake times. Each time her daughter changed her routine or gained a new ability, Caroline reassured her Emmy was a typical baby and developing well.
Although still a little wobbly at first, Emmy learned to hold her head up by herself instead of always needing someone to support it. She smiled more often. Roslyn loved interacting with her in order to coax a laugh out of her. Now that Emmy stayed awake more, any time the main room of the station was fairly empty of people, she spread out a mattress tick, covered it with Emmy’s blanket, and placed Emmy on top.
Following Caroline’s advice, she often put Emmy on her tummy. Sure enough, Emmy learned to lift her head and look around. When Roslyn put a cup in front of her, Emmy learned to reach and wriggle until she captured it.
Caroline had laughed when she saw what Emmy learned to do. “It won’t be long before she is turning front to back, and rolling all over this floor. We’ll have a time of it keeping up with her then.”
Now, standing by the glass window looking out on the yard, Roslyn glanced up and squinted as she tried to judge the time by the position of the sun. “Shouldn’t it be about time for Fergus to show up?”
Caroline set aside her spoon she used to stir stew and reached for the tray of biscuits. “I believe so. The food is ready, but I think I’ll put these biscuits on a covered plate at the edge of the stove to stay warm.”
Within seconds, Roslyn heard Tom yell out. Jim ran to open the gate.
Roslyn called to Caroline. “It’s here.” She turned back and frowned. From what she could see of the way the coach swung its arc as the driver prepared to drive straight into the station yard, the animals were moving in too fast. “Something’s wrong. I know I’ve only been here a couple of weeks, but I’ve never seen Fergus run his team into the station like the devil was after him.”
Isaac rose from the bench next to Emmy’s blanket where he had been waving a wooden toy he had fashioned. He strode over to the window. As if grasping the situation in a split second, he rushed out the door and slammed it behind him.
Caroline joined Roslyn at the window. The squeal of Fergus applying the brake reaching Roslyn, she watched as the stagecoach drove into the yard and barely stopped before the lead pair ploughed into the inside corral wall. Through the billowing dust clouds that followed, she watched Jim push the gate shut. Isaac walked over to meet Fergus, who greeted him by shaking his head and flinging his arm in the air as he walked toward the door to the station. Gunter climbed out of the driver’s box on the other side while Isaac went to the door of the coach to look after any passengers that might have arrived.
Roslyn opened the door as Fergus reached it. He stopped about three feet inside and scrubbed his face with both hands.
Gunter, his coach gun gripped in his left hand, entered next and sidled around Fergus. He sank down on the bench and, eyes closed, leaned his head against the back wall.
Caroline flapped her apron in a vain attempt to push back outside the dust that trailed the two.
Roslyn closed the door.
Caroline stepped over to Fergus and kept her voice calm. “It looks like you had a difficult run, Mr.
Bixby. Perhaps after you splash some cold water on your face and wash up, you’ll feel better. I’ll put some cool water to drink on the table for both of you and have your meal ready in a moment.”
Fergus dropped his hands and blinked several times. “I need something stiffer than water, and I don’t mean coffee.” He turned toward the wash basin set up in the corner of the kitchen area. He splashed water on his face, sending drops flying down the back of his waistcoat and on the floor.
At the sound of a knock, Roslyn opened the door to admit a single passenger she judged to look more haggard and unsettled than the average passenger did after miles of stagecoach travel. “Hello, sir. I’m Mrs. Welsh, and this is your hostess, Mrs. Peterson.” She held her hand out in Caroline’s direction before she motioned to the wash stand. “As soon as Mr. Bixby finishes with the wash stand, you may clean up while we put your meal on the table.”
The man swung his legs over the bench that went to the trestle table. “Thank you, ma’am, but first, I just need a minute to sit on something that’s not moving.” He propped his elbows on the table and rested his lips against his fisted hands.
At the sound of a mule whinnying and men shouting, Roslyn jerked her head toward the yard. She raced toward the window once more. Outside, she watched as Eustace, Jim, and Isaac fought to release the lead mules from their harnesses while the wheeler mule closest to the station building snapped, reared, and lunged at the men.
Fergus blurted out a string of expletives as he threw down the towel and turned toward the door. “That cussed Beelzebub, he is nothing but trouble. As if it wasn’t bad enough outrunning a pack of Indians, I had to be stuck with him. If I didn’t think the B.O.D. would take it out of my pay, I’d shoot that mule and be done with the problem. It’s been a fight all the way, ever since I left Buffalo Creek Station.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, Caroline walked closer to Fergus. “You were attacked by Indians? Were they Cheyenne?” When Fergus did not immediately answer, she turned to Gunter, who shrugged. “Don’t know. Not close enough to get a good shot.”
The passenger tipped his head back far enough to expose his mouth. “The Indians stayed off in the distance. They chased us for a mile or so, and then broke off.”
Fergus huffed and shook his head. It’s pretty flat out there, so I was able to see them aways off. I didn’t stick around to shake hands and say ‘Howdy.’”
Roslyn wondered if the chill that coursed through her was caused by a drop in temperature or by what Fergus just told them. “What about your military escort?”
“They were there. Had ten men with us. They stayed with the coach. Maybe that’s what scared them off. The soldiers didn’t break off and return to the fort until just before we got here.”
Gunter grunted. “Maybe Indians try to draw soldiers away from coach so others attack us. When soldiers stay, they leave.”
“I only hope they didn’t follow us far enough to make sure we wouldn’t turn back because they intend to hit Buffalo Creek. Escort or no escort, I sure don’t look forward to the trip back to Buffalo Creek Station tomorrow.” Fergus walked over to his usual place at the table and sat down.
The commotion outside drew Roslyn’s attention once more. She pivoted in the direction of the storage room and began to trot as she tore the apron off over her head. “I hate to leave you with serving the first table by yourself, Caroline, but the men out there are having trouble settling the stock. I need to go outside and see if I can help.”
Roslyn returned to the room wearing her stock-tending clothes.
Upon seeing her, Fergus shook his head. “See here, Mrs. Welsh, now’s not the time to pretend…”
Her eyes flashing as she continued toward the door, Roslyn turned to him with sharp retort. “Hush your mouth, Fergus. I don’t have time to deal with your guff.”
Outside the door, Roslyn’s breath caught at the sight of Eustace beating on the big wheeler mule with a stick of firewood. Mule brays and human curses filled the air. A glance to her right caught the sight of Elam closing the door of the bunk room behind him. His hair stuck up on end and his shirt hung outside his trousers on either side of his braces, but his pistol was tucked in the front of his belt. He held his Spencer rifle in his free hand. Been up guarding all night and the commotion just now woke him up.
Roslyn turned her attention to Eustace. “Eustace! Stop beating that mule right now. That’s no way to treat an animal.”
Eustace whirled around and shook the stick at her. “Don’t you order me around, woman! I’ll beat this mule to death, if that’s what it takes to get it to do what I tell it to.” He turned back to the mule.
Roslyn’s gaze fell on the coach whip which she guessed Fergus either dropped or threw to the ground when he climbed down from the driver’s box. She ran over, picked it up, and snapped it several feet above Eustace’s head. “Out here, I’m not a woman; I’m a stock tender. I said, get away from that mule. It’s my turn to work with it.”
Eustace spun and stepped toward Roslyn. “Don’t you ever snap a whip at me again, or…” At the sound of the click of a pistol hammer, Eustace stopped in his tracks. His gaze never left Roslyn, but his words were not intended for her. “Stay out of this, Elam. This is between me and Mrs. Welsh. I won’t put up with her coming out here and telling me what to do.”
“One thing I done learned long ago is it ain’t no use arguing with a redheaded woman when she’s all riled up. Best maybe you tend to the others. I’ll stay here, make sure that mule don’t hurt her none. He goes after her, I’ll put it down.”
Roslyn forced her voice to sound consolatory. “Please, Eustace, let me have a try at calming Beelzebub down. Just please see to it someone is ready to take the lead pair away while I distract him.” Roslyn could tell Eustace still simmered at being challenged, but he moved away from Beelzebub toward the heads of the front pair.
Roslyn tossed the whip in the driver’s box and turned her attention to Beelzebub. While speaking in soft tones, she circled around so she slowly approached mule from the front. She held out her hands. “See, Beelzebub? I’m not carrying anything. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to get you out of that harness and walk you around to cool you off. Then I’ll get you some nice water and feed. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
She realized the mule had settled down some, but still, his muscles remained stiff and the whites of his eyes showed as he studied her. Roslyn continued to speak in calming tones intended for the mule as she slowly moved closer. She reached out her hand for him to sniff. He snorted, but did not lung at her. She stepped closer. Whinnying in protest, he lunged his head and, using his teeth, tore the hat from her head. Tossing it behind him, he side-stepped, crushing the crown.
Roslyn sensed more than saw Elam shift toward her. “Don’t shoot him, Elam. We’re fine. See? Now the hat’s gone, he’s settling down again.”
Roslyn continued speaking in soft tones, only her words were directed to the men. “Elam, please don’t point any weapons directly at him. I think he knows what that means. Jim or Tom, if one of you can hear me, please bring a halter and a rope over and stand back by Elam. Walk slowly, no sudden moves. I’ll come over and get it from you.”
“Figure on making that rope a long one.”
Roslyn glanced at Elam, then turned her attention once more to Beelzebub. “I don’t need a long lead rope, Elam. It will just get in my way.”
“You best figure I’ll be hanging on the other end. Don’t worry none. I’ll stay back. But that mule decides to break free, you’ll be needing someone else on the rope.”
Jim sidled his way next to Elam. “Got the halter and rope for you, Mrs. Welsh.”
“Thank you, Jim.” Roslyn reached up and scratched the mule’s muzzle, then she patted his neck. “I’m going step away, Bubby, but I’ll be right back.”
Aware Tom watched her from afar, and Eustace stood at the head of the left leader mule, Roslyn slowly walked over to join the other two. “Have you see
n the scars on Beelzebub? This mule has been abused. My guess is, a man or men whipped him when he was young and it turned him mean.”
Jim’s eyes widened and he hunched his shoulders. “He doesn’t seem to mind being around you.”
Roslyn reached for the halter and rope. “He must sense I’m female and he doesn’t feel I’m a threat. He sure doesn’t like my floppy-brimmed hat, though, so I won’t wear it around him.” She poked two fingers on her cheek. “In this sun, I’ll turn as red as a spring radish, but it’ll be worth it.”
Elam smiled. “Don’t fret none about turning red in the face. You look right fine.”
Roslyn blinked and stared at Elam. He smiled. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile. “All right. I won’t worry about it.” She turned and slowly returned to the mule. “I’m back, Bubby. We’re going to turn the leaders loose, then I’m going to get you out of this harness, all right?” Knowing her next move could put her in a dangerous situation, she eased in front of Beelzebub, never breaking eye contact with the mule. “Good boy, Bubby. I’m not going to call you by that mean, old name when you’re being good like this. Eustace, I’m releasing the left lead mule now.”
Keeping her hand on the side of Beelzebub’s head, she felt for the connection and released it. Eustace pulled the lead mule forward. “See, Bubby? We release the other, then we can get you out of your harness. No-no. Don’t pay attention to Tom. He’s just taking the other lead mule. You’ll be fine.”
Once both lead mules were led away, Roslyn continued to talk to Beelzebub until she pulled the head stall off and replaced it with the rope halter. She slowly moved around him until she freed him from the stagecoach. She grabbed the lead rope a few feet from the halter. “Now, if someone will please open the gate to the corral and then stand far back, I’ll take him inside and walk him over to the opposite end from where the rest are so you can get the fresh team hitched up.”