Winds of Change (The Surveyor's Daughters Book 4)

by Vicki Hunt Budge

  Mrs. Gardner laughed, all the while shaking her head. “You may certainly drop us off and run over to see the Westons,” she said, “if you hurry. You’ve got the whole family interested in this man’s attempt to cross the country in his horseless carriage. I’d like to know where he is myself.”

  “Thanks, Ma. I will hurry.”

  When Cora walked into the Weston’s newspaper office, she was greeted with big smiles from Jake Weston and his father. “Well, they’re not in Idaho yet,” Mr. Weston said before Cora even asked, “but they’re well on their way. I’ve got to hand it to you, Miss Cora, you’ve stirred up quite a bit of excitement here in Clover Creek about this cross-country road trip. Both Milo Henderson and Gideon Lewis have been in this week asking about Jackson. Several other people too. The word is spreading.”

  One of Cora’s eyebrows raised at the mention of Gideon taking the time to stop in to ask about the road trip. The thought of him showing that much of an interest made her smile.

  “Jackson and his automobile have caused quite a sensation in every town they’ve driven through,” Jake said. “People are lining the roads to watch for them because each little town telegraphs ahead to let the next town know their coming. So, Pa’s finally written his first article about them and it’s hot off the press.” He held out a copy of the newspaper to Cora. “Here’s a free copy for you.”

  Cora squealed as she accepted the newspaper. She remembered that Mr. Weston had first said he wouldn’t run an article about the road trip unless Jackson made it all the way to Idaho. “Where are they?” she asked, scanning the article as she spoke.

  “Somewhere between the bottom of Oregon and the Idaho border,” Jake said. “Their new tires finally caught up to them, and they headed out through the desert. They didn’t go far though, before they broke down again. Jackson’s mechanic couldn’t get the Vermont to work, so . . . guess who had to help them?”

  “I . . . I don’t have any idea.” Cora waited expectantly.

  “A cowpuncher lassoed the Vermont, and his horse pulled the automobile to the next ranch.”

  “No . . .” Cora gasped.

  “It’s true,” Mr. Weston said, chortling. “Jackson’s story is so outlandish that it’s hilarious. I still don’t think he’ll make it to New York City, but the story’s causing a great deal of interest. Very good newspaper stuff.”

  “Jackson will drive that Winton into Idaho by sheer determination,” Cora said, “and on to New York. Just you wait and see.”

  4

  Later that evening, with the wayzgoose in full swing, Cora, her mother, and her sisters assisted in serving large platters of food. The air around the wheelwright barn was filled with the smell of roasted goose, beef, mutton, potatoes, asparagus, and hot rolls. It was also filled with friendly talk and lots of laughter. Cora’s whole family was present except for her father and brother-in-law who were still working on the land survey. Cora missed her father, but she understood how important this latest survey was to him.

  When everyone had had their fill of the best feast since the holiday season, they gathered around the fire pit out back and sang a mixture of folk songs and a few hymns. Cora stayed inside to help Mrs. Lewis store away leftover food and clean the kitchen. Gideon, the only Lewis boy who stayed inside to help, quickly shooed his mother out the door to join her guests. He dried the dishes while Cora washed them.

  “So, I hear you’ve been by the newspaper office to follow Jackson’s road trip,” Cora said. She looked up from the pan she scrubbed. Her eyes filled with a twinkle of mischief.

  Gideon chuckled. “Apparently, the newspaper office shares gossip as well as news.”

  “It appears so,” Cora replied, smiling at him. “So, what do you think now? Do you think Jackson will make it to Idaho?”

  “It’s hard to say, but after all he’s been through, I’m amazed that he hasn’t given up.”

  “I don’t think he’s the giving up kind.”

  Gideon finished drying a large bowl and placed it in the hutch. “The guy’s determination is impressive, that’s for sure. Makes me more determined to reach some of my ambitions.”

  “Really?” Cora straightened and looked at Gideon with wide eyes. “And what are your ambitions if you don’t mind sharing?”

  The sound of clapping and cheers came from out back, and then a new round of singing began. “Well . . .” He hesitated as if reluctant to share or was considering what to share. “I’ve always planned to take over the wheelwright barn someday. It’s what my pa wants and it’s what I want. I want to expand out the back so we can handle more orders and support my brothers and their families.”

  “That’s a noble ambition,” Cora said. Wrinkles appeared on her forehead, and she bent to her task of scrubbing the pan in front of her. Neither of them said anything for several moments as though they were each absorbed in their own thoughts. All Cora could think about was how excited people were about automobiles. And if what she read in her father’s newspapers and periodicals were true, change was coming. People were enchanted with automobiles, and surely some innovator or business person would soon produce automobiles that an ordinary person could afford. What would happen to Gideon’s dreams and ambitions then?

  The celebration crowd out in the back finished singing another song, and the sounds of cheers and clapping reached the kitchen. Gideon carried more of the dried dishes to the hutch, and then came to stand uncomfortably close to Cora. “I know you think the automobile is the way of the future,” he said in a soft voice, “but making wagons is part of my heritage. It’s who I am. I’m interested in following Jackson’s road trip to see if he can make it, and because, well because I care about you. But I believe that even if Jackson makes it all the way to New York, there will still be a need for more wagons and buggies. Especially now with more and more farmers and rural communities getting mail service at their doorstop.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Cora said, scrubbing feverishly on the already clean pan in front of her.

  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Truly?”

  Cora straightened and turned to look at him. She dried her hands on her apron, trying to keep them from trembling at his touch. She had to be considerate in what she said to Gideon. She loved this man, had loved him for years, even though he had such a conflicting opinion compared to hers. Her soft blue eyes brimmed with candor, and her voice faltered as she spoke. “Of course, I hope you’re right,” she said glancing around the kitchen area. “This wheelwright barn is legendary here in the northwest. It’s your home. Your Pa and you are the foremost wagon manufactures around. I’ve heard Pa say so. Building wagons is what you love. I hope you’re right. I hope there will always be a market for more wagons and buggies.”

  “But . . . you don’t think that will be the way of things? I can see it in your eyes.”

  Cora looked at her hands. “I can’t help feeling that people will want automobiles more than wagons and carriages in the coming years.”

  She didn’t add, even to deliver the mail.

  Gideon nodded as though he was considering her words. “My other ambition is to have a loving family like my parents and your family have.” His dark eyes took on that same look he’d had out in the potato patch the day before, and his hand, still resting on her shoulder, slid down to her elbow.

  A tingling feeling spread through Cora, filling her with warmth. She looked into his eyes, so intent on hers. To his lips so near. She nearly took a step toward him.

  “Hey, Gideon!” someone called from the backyard when the singing stopped amid another round of clapping. “Come and join the party.”

  Gideon’s look softened and his lips turned up at the corners. “I guess we’d better join the others,” he said, his voice still soft and low. “You go on. I’ll finish here and be out in a few minutes.”

  Cora stepped back and clutched a hand to her chest for a few moments before she removed her apron. She walked outside, wondering what had just happened.
Was Gideon implying that he wanted to have a family with her? She had hoped for that very conclusion for years, but as she breathed in the refreshing night air, she realized that things were different now. Gideon was a good man and came from a good family. She admired his work ethic and his commitment to family, but with the way life was changing all around the country, she worried about his profession. She hoped he was right and that there would be many more wagons and buggies ordered for years to come, but somehow, that plan didn’t feel reasonable in her heart. Why couldn’t Gideon see it?

  The automobile wasn’t just a fad. She had ridden in one, had felt its power and strength. She was convinced that the automobile’s popularity would grow, and that someday the horseless carriage would traverse over the most rural parts of the country and completely replace the horse and buggy for everyone’s practical purposes. Could she support Gideon in his profession if she truly felt it was a dying profession?

  Cora looked around for a place to sit near her family. Her mind reeled in several directions, causing her a sense of distress and sadness. As with the Saturday night dances, Cora’s sister, Ruby, and her husband furnished the music for the celebration with the fiddle and the Lewis’s reed organ which had been carried outside. As they started another lively tune and the crowd sang, Cora felt a strange sensation. It was like she was being pulled in two different directions, one toward the comfort of life as she knew it, and another like life was about to change in extraordinary ways.

  The evening air had turned cool, but the change in temperature felt good to Cora after washing so many dishes and pots and pans. She started to take a seat next to one of her sisters, when Milo Henderson looked up and motioned for her to come sit by him and his parents. Both Mr. and Mrs. Henderson smiled at her and scooted to one side on their bench to make room. Mrs. Henderson also waved her over, making Cora feel the need to go sit with them and help them feel included in their new community.

  Once Cora sat down next to Milo, she noticed that he once again looked like he belonged in the Sears, Roebuck catalog with his colorful cravat and his polished tweed boots. Someone called out the next song suggestion, I’ve Been Working on The Railroad, which caused Ruby and Nathan to immediately start belting out the lively tune on the fiddle and organ.

  Cora, still feeling confused about what had happened in the kitchen and all the changes that were taking place in her life, found it hard to sing. After all, she felt like Gideon had come close to kissing her only moments ago, and now here she was sitting next to Milo, a strikingly good-looking and well-dressed man. Milo was a good person too, learning the banking business under the tutorage of his father. He and his family hadn’t been in Clover Creek long, but they seemed like a fine family. Their banking business would continue to grow no matter whether people bought wagons or automobiles. She wished Gideon would open his eyes to the future. Perhaps she should open her eyes to the future and consider the attention that Milo Henderson had started showing her.

  Milo’s interest in her had impressive possibilities. His enthusiasm for the automobile matched hers. It was as if he could see into the future and see the role the automobile might play. She enjoyed listening to Milo’s strong tenor voice as she sat beside him, causing her to start singing herself until she happened to glance down at their feet. Were her boots longer than Milo’s? He wasn’t a very tall man, and his boots certainly weren’t anywhere as big as Gideon’s, or her brother’s, or her father’s.

  Cora wasn’t positive if her boots were longer than Milo’s, but she discreetly tucked her boots beneath her skirts just in case.

  Gideon waited for several minutes before joining the singers. He had to gain control of his emotions. Twice now in two days, he had nearly kissed Cora. But both times, they had not been alone, or at least they had been in an area where they could have easily been interrupted by someone. Gideon felt like Cora wanted him to kiss her, but he wasn’t positive. He could be misreading those lovely eyes of hers. He had known Cora for years, adored her for years, and was almost certain she had reciprocating feelings for him. So, why was there a sudden hesitation in his feelings?

  The problem between them was the automobile. Cora had been infatuated with the idea of the automobile for a couple of years now, she and her sister reading every article they could find in their father’s magazines and newspapers. Then, after riding in an automobile last year, it seemed like Cora had become obsessed with the contraption.

  Prior to the time Cora had gone to Salt Lake City, and ridden in an automobile, Gideon had started saving and planning to build a small cottage on the far end of his father’s property. The location was perfect, close to both families. He had only recently accumulated enough savings to build the cottage and had planned to ask for Cora’s hand in marriage after his family’s wayzgoose. But, when Cora had started pushing the idea that building wagons and buggies might not be the best occupation for Gideon in the near future, he had lost some of his confidence.

  And now, because of the difference in their opinions, he wasn’t so sure Cora would agree to marry him. But still, as Gideon thought about the look in her eyes when they were so close only moments ago, he had hope. The arguments they’d had over the past year regarding the automobile troubled him, but he would continue to show interest in the contraption and try to never argue with her about it.

  Gideon walked outside with a smile on his face, but his smile quickly turned into a scowl. Cora and Milo were sitting side by side merrily singing at his family party. How had that happened? He planned to sit by the charming surveyor’s daughter, not watch the new banker’s son sit by her. The banker’s son who envisioned the robust future of the automobile as much as Cora, and who also happened to have watched Horatio Nelson Jackson drive out of San Francisco on his foolhardy road trip. The banker’s son who probably had the money to buy an automobile if he chose to do so.

  Gideon admitted that Jackson’s road trip was gaining a lot of attention even though the man had been on the road for fourteen days now, and still hadn’t made it to Idaho. Almost everyone who came into the wheelwright barn during the past few days talked about it, and the local newspaper had even published a story about it. Gideon sighed and leaned against the wheelwright barn, forcing himself to join in the singing. After all, it was his family celebrating the completion of their wagons. He was proud of their work, and what was really worth celebrating was that so many more orders were pouring in. Rural mail routes were springing up all over the west, and even though mail wagons were small compared to the big farm wagons, his family was in the ideal occupation to provide them for the many people investing in rural mail routes.

  Once the wayzgoose broke up, Gideon was the first to approach the banker’s family and thank them for coming. He wasn’t about to let Milo occupy all of Cora’s attention. “I hope you have enjoyed the evening,” he said, smiling at the Henderson family.

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Henderson said. “It’s been a lovely evening, and the food was absolutely delicious!”

  “Especially the pie,” Milo said, winking at Cora and looking quite smug.

  “I’m impressed with these fine wagons your family has made and displayed here tonight,” Mr. Henderson said. “Are they all sold?”

  “Yes, sir. The biggest wagon will be shipped via train to Salt Lake City. The other big wagon is headed to the Spokane area. The buyer is coming here to pick it up. The mail wagons all have Idaho destinations.”

  “These little mail wagons are beautiful,” Mr. Henderson said. “So efficient and practical for sorting mail and delivering it. It’s such a fashionable idea to deliver mail to rural areas where people farm and ranch nowadays.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gideon said, smiling broadly. “I totally agree with you. All our mail wagons are built of high-grade hickory and ash. The cushions have sturdy springs and the doors and windows open and close easily, providing protection from storms. They’re all practical and convenient for the rural mail carriers.”

  “Who pays for thes
e mail wagons?” Milo asked. “The government?”

  Gideon laughed. “No, no. The individual mail carriers buy their own wagons or carts to deliver the mail. The government considers it an investment in their careers. We have back orders for more than ten wagons and a few smaller two-wheel carts. The carts will be lighter, but strong and durable. And the nice thing for the rural carrier is that all he has to do for a pleasant Sunday drive with his sweetheart is remove the rural route sign that we attach to the carts and buggies. Then he’ll have an impressive vehicle for courting.”

  This was Gideon’s moment to wink at Cora, when he mentioned the words sweetheart and courting. Cora smiled in return, but Milo cleared his throat with a harrumph and shuffled his polished tweed boots on the ground.

  5

  Saturday night, Cora, Alice, and a few of their friends gathered in a circle laughing, talking, and waiting for the dance to start. Cora’s brother-in-law Nathan had just begun to warm up on his fiddle when Cora spotted two more friends enter the schoolhouse. She rushed over to greet them, so excited to see them again after a three-month absence.

  Margie and Rose Howell were considered sisters by the Gardner girls because their brother, Evan Howell, had married into the Gardner family. Additionally, Cora considered Margie and Rose best friends because she had grown up and gone to school with them. Margie was one year older than Cora, and Rose was the same age. “When did you get back from Denver?” Cora asked, throwing her arms around each of the Howell girls and hugging them excitedly. “I thought you were staying another month or two.”

  “Our aunt, who owns the dressmaker’s shop where we trained, told us we learned so quickly that she thought we were prepared to open our own shop,” Margie said.

  “So, here we are,” Rose added, “ready to go into business for ourselves.”