Calico Christmas at Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  “Good afternoon, Annabelle,” Jake said.

  The woman did not answer. Her skin was flushed and her chin defiant. Her face looked kind, even if her eyes were braced for battle and focused on a spot to the right of the doorway. She was past middle-aged and some gray showed in the light brown hair she wore pulled back into a bun. Her white blouse was freshly pressed and her black wool skirt was proper.

  Elizabeth thought the other woman wasn’t going to answer Jake, but finally she did.

  “Good afternoon to you, as well.”

  Only then did the woman meet Elizabeth’s eyes.

  Elizabeth forced herself to smile. Even if the woman wouldn’t want to socialize with them for some reason, surely she would be polite. And, if Elizabeth were even more polite in return, the woman would need to continue answering back.

  “You have a good store here. Your shelves are completely full. I see coffee and spices. Flour, too,” Elizabeth said. “You must be proud.”

  The store looked well enough stocked to meet anyone’s needs. The front counters, showcase and shelves were a dark wood made shiny from repeated rubdowns. To the left, there was a tobacco cutter. Behind the woman there were tins of face powder and hand mirrors with matching brushes. A cracker barrel stood in front of the case. A few leather-bound books lay on the top of the counter.

  Farther back, Elizabeth saw a tin of tea that was the same kind that had been left at her wagon. Beside it was a china teapot with lovely pink roses painted on its side.

  “It’s not my store. I just clerk here,” the woman said stiffly.

  “Still, you must make recommendations and I can’t think of anything your shelves are lacking.”

  “We do have a good selection,” the woman admitted. By now her face looked pale as though she needed to force herself to stand by her words. “For our better customers.”

  Elizabeth could see Jake’s jaw clench.

  “I didn’t know you had different kinds of customers,” Jake said.

  Annabelle was silent for a minute. “Your friends were here this morning, after you left.”

  “Higgins and Wells?”

  Annabelle looked miserable, but determined. “Our other customers complained.”

  “I know they can be a little loud,” Jake said. “But I’ve never known them to mean anyone harm.”

  The store clerk’s face tightened.

  “I…ah—” Elizabeth tried to think of something to say to relieve the tension “—I am surprised to see such a fine store. Back in Kansas, we hadn’t expected to see something like this way out here. My husband would have—”

  Elizabeth faltered to a stop, but then continued. “My husband wanted to own a store like this someday.”

  Annabelle took her eyes off Jake and turned them toward Elizabeth. Something flickered in the woman’s eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

  Jake looked at the shelves behind the counter and then turned to the clerk. “We need to buy a wedding ring.”

  Oh, dear, Elizabeth thought. She was not sure she could marry another man who wanted to spend money so freely. She accepted that she would be the one responsible for providing most of the food and clothing. She had always had to do for herself and those around her. But cash money was hard to come by and she didn’t like to see it slip away no matter who had worked for it.

  “I don’t need a new ring,” Elizabeth whispered as she leaned closer to Jake. She had no desire to embarrass him in front of the store clerk, but they needed to come to some understanding. “We can use the one I already have.”

  “I won’t use your husband’s ring.”

  Elizabeth watched as the clerk turned to look for something on the shelf behind the counter. Elizabeth figured the woman was giving them some privacy. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress.

  “The ring was my mother’s,” Elizabeth murmured quietly. She’d been given it at her parents’ funeral and had kept it all the years since. Matthew had been relieved that he didn’t need to buy a ring for her. “And it’s an expense that we don’t need.”

  Elizabeth watched Annabelle turn around and set a tray on the counter. The woman’s face softened slightly as she studied Elizabeth. “You’re that woman, aren’t you? The one out by the fort who lost her husband and baby?”

  Elizabeth gave a jerky nod. So that was the problem. “The doctor says I’m past the time of getting the fever, though. You don’t need to worry.”

  The woman reached over and set her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “I felt so sorry for you. I sent a tin of tea out with one of the soldiers. I hope you got it. Tea always soothes me when I don’t feel good.”

  Elizabeth relaxed. Maybe the woman was just cautious with strangers. Or maybe Jake’s friends had upset other customers by cursing or something. It was likely a misunderstanding of sorts. Annabelle seemed to be a nice person.

  “That tea was such a lovely gift,” Elizabeth said as she smiled at the other woman. “I don’t know when I’ve had tea that I’ve enjoyed as much. I had some sassafras bark in the wagon with me, but I used most of it up when my husband was sick.”

  Elizabeth didn’t think she’d ever be able to drink sassafras tea again without picturing Matthew dying. Even the smell of it made her feel ill.

  The woman nodded. “That tea was from England. We got it with our last shipment.”

  Elizabeth thought the woman was going to say something more, but instead she glanced up at Jake and all of the friendliness in her face drained away. She looked worried and afraid.

  Jake didn’t see it because he was looking down at the rings, but Elizabeth did.

  “We’ll want a gold ring, of course.” Jake was looking at the tray of rings the woman had set on the counter. Dozens of rings were lined up in shiny rows.

  Annabelle bit her lip and, when she didn’t move, Jake looked up.

  “Perhaps you would care to wait outside while she tries on the rings,” Annabelle suggested softly.

  Elizabeth could see the woman had needed to brace herself to say those words.

  “Some women like to try on several,” Annabelle added as her face flushed.

  Jake nodded, although he looked doubtful. “I guess I should see about sending that note to the reverend anyway. Otherwise he’ll probably leave the schoolhouse before we get there.”

  The store clerk watched Jake walk out of the store and close the door before she turned to Elizabeth.

  “I can’t let you do this,” the woman whispered in a rush. She had bright spots of color on her cheeks. “I’m a widow, too. I know what it’s like. And he is a striking man. But, surely you’re not so desperate that you’ll marry him.”

  Elizabeth stiffened. “I know it’s unusual. And I haven’t known him long, but he seems like a good, God-fearing man.”

  Elizabeth saw no need to tell Annabelle about the arrangement she and Jake had made.

  Annabelle pursed her lips. “A man like him needs to fear God a little more if you ask me.”

  A man like what? Elizabeth wondered. “If it’s the girls. I know they are Indians, but I understand that Mr. Hargrove is not. Besides, I believe we are all God’s creatures.”

  Elizabeth knew that was stretching the truth. She wasn’t sure what she thought about God and the Indians. But she wasn’t going to admit that to a stranger in this town where the girls needed acceptance. She owed them that much loyalty at least.

  “It’s not the girls. It’s him.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth felt herself go cold. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s a wolfer.” Annabelle’s lips deepened in a disapproving line. “At least those friends of his are. They were in today and, well, it’s no conversation for a lady. It’s disgusting what they do. Even the Indians are better.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “He mentioned that he had done some prospecting for gold and some trapping.”

  The woman nodded grimly. “The trapping days have been over for years. Even the buffalo are thinning out. What trappers that are left
have turned to wolfing. His friends wanted to put in an order for that poison—strychnine—this morning. A big bag of it. I told them no. As though we’d carry that. They kill a buffalo and sprinkle the dead animal with it.”

  “Oh, dear, you’re sure?”

  The woman nodded. “I used to think that the one, Higgins, was a good God-fearing man. A little rough in his manners maybe, but he told me he prays and—he even asked if he could walk me home from church if he came someday. I said yes, but then—”

  The woman crossed her arms. “Then he started bragging about how he can poison up to sixty wolves in one night the way they do it. And no holes in the pelts, either, so they get top dollar on the furs. All they do is go out and pick up the dead wolves the next morning. With unblemished pelts just like the folks back East want them.”

  Annabelle paused and looked a little sad. “He’s got all the money he needs now, of course. But…to die of strychnine poisoning. Even for a wolf, well, I simply can’t condone it. The convulsions. The foaming at the mouth. Besides, other animals die, too—it’s not just the wolves. And, birds. I love birds, even the vultures. It’s not fair to the animals, they don’t have a chance.”

  “Oh, dear.” Elizabeth couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t known Jake for long, but he didn’t seem like a cruel man. She had a bit of poison in her wagon, of course. All dyers did. The indigo leavings used to make a strong black dye were poisonous. She was careful with it, though, and always kept it in a lidded jar so no animal could mistakenly eat it.

  “Jake lives out there on Dry Creek by those friends of his. I talked to the manager and he agrees with me. I’m not going to sell the men poison. Decent folks are trying to make Miles City a good place to live. There’s talk all the time that someday the railroad representatives will come to town and look us over. I don’t want to be selling strychnine to wolfers when that happens.”

  “So it’s not the girls?”

  The woman shook her head and then gave a small smile. “Folks around here might shoot an Indian, but they’d spit on a wolfer. If they had the nerve, that is.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m just giving you a word of caution.”

  “I’m grateful.”

  Elizabeth realized she was in trouble. She wanted to help the baby, but she didn’t see how she could marry someone like Jake. Even if the marriage wasn’t real, she would be out there alone with him and the girls—and his wolfer friends. What if they put poison in her tea some morning? She had been willing to die, but she didn’t want to be murdered.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any jobs available in town.”

  The woman frowned. “Virginia Parker got a job recently working at the saloon down the street, playing piano.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t work in a saloon. What decent woman could?”

  “I’ll not hear anything said about Virginia. She’s a fine young woman. There’s just not much work around here and most of it’s in the saloons.”

  “Surely there are other jobs. I could teach a little school. Not Latin or anything fancy. But I’m good with numbers.”

  “The Reverend Olson already teaches school. He even knows Latin. But, between that and his preaching, he barely makes enough to keep body and soul together for him and his wife. The town hasn’t exactly gotten around to paying anyone for the school yet. The parents are going to meet to see what they can do about it. My son, Thomas, goes to the school.”

  “I wouldn’t need to make much. It’s only me to support.”

  “Could you sew enough to be a dressmaker?”

  “If the styles were simple.”

  The woman shook her head. “You’d need ruffles and hoops to please this crowd. Most of the regular women make their own dresses. It’s the women in the saloons—not Virginia, of course, but the other women—they are the ones willing to pay someone to make dresses for them. But they want French lace and that new kind of shimmering braid they’ve been asking for. In silver and gold both, mind you. We stock some of the best silks in the world just for them. But, what’s a good fabric if the thing doesn’t fit right? A handy seamstress could make a good living if she knew fashion.”

  “I could learn. I’d just need to buy some patterns.”

  “We don’t have any of the new styles yet. The owner hasn’t even sent off for them. We have some old ones, of course, but—”

  “Oh, well. I suppose I could take in laundry for a while.” Elizabeth squared her shoulders. She’d do that if she had to and keep the Indian baby with her for the winter. “I’m used to washing men’s shirts and woolens.”

  The woman shook her head. “Sam Lee does that. You may have seen the sign on your way into town—Good Washing and Fireworks Here? He’s a Chinaman who does the laundry for most of the town. He’d be hard to beat.”

  Elizabeth heard the door to the mercantile open.

  “Who’d be hard to beat?” Jake asked as he walked inside and up to the counter. He had the baby in the sling next to his chest. He didn’t know what had Annabelle in such a contrary mood, but she couldn’t have picked a worse time. He’d come to know her because she went to church most Sundays just as he did. He’d always thought her to be a sensible woman and Higgins had praised her extravagantly the last time Jake had shared their evening fire.

  Maybe that was the problem.

  “I don’t suppose it’s Higgins?” Jake asked Annabelle directly. Higgins had been a trapper for decades, as Jake’s father had been. The man was said to have wrestled a grizzly once and gone back to chopping wood afterward as if like there had been nothing to it. But for all of the man’s courage, he had even less of an idea about how to act around refined women than Jake did.

  “I was speaking of the man who does the laundry,” the store clerk said stiffly. “Mr. Higgins is none of my concern.”

  “All right then,” Jake said slowly. That should be good, he thought. He turned to Elizabeth. “Did you find a ring that fit?”

  “Not quite.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Maybe we could use my mother’s ring until we find exactly what we want.”

  Jake searched Elizabeth’s face. “If you’re sure. Most women like new things.”

  Something was wrong. Annabelle had stared at his shoulder most of the time she was talking to him and Elizabeth could barely look him in the eye. He supposed she was finally realizing what she was about to do. Not that he could blame her. He knew he had no business marrying someone like her and dragging her into the problems he’d probably have with the people of this town.

  Of course, why would that make Annabelle so unfriendly? Maybe it did have something to do with Higgins instead.

  “Higgins didn’t propose to you, did he?” Jake suddenly asked. Annabelle had been in town for several months now. Her husband had been a miner over by Helena until he’d been shot and killed. But maybe she’d lived back East before that. “I know things are different out here. Most men don’t feel they have the time to spend courting, so they just get to the point. But they don’t mean any harm by it.”

  Jake figured he was speaking for himself as well as his friend.

  “Mr. Higgins most certainly did not propose,” Annabelle protested. Her face had gone a bright pink and she looked indignant. “He knows better than that. He’s never even come calling. I’m a widow in mourning. A decent women wouldn’t—” Annabelle stopped and looked at Elizabeth. “Oh. I didn’t mean—”

  Elizabeth waved the words away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Jake didn’t know what had happened to his Elizabeth. All of her indignation was gone. She looked tired. For the first time, he felt the urge to put his arm around her shoulders. He didn’t deserve this woman, but he did plan to protect her with all of his might. The problem was he wasn’t exactly sure how to protect her from the discouragement Annabelle was causing her.

  “You won’t need to see Higgins if you don’t want to,” Jake said quietly to Elizabeth. “I usually just go over and sit with him and Wells at their place anyway.”
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br />   It was probably best if he kept his old trapper friends away from her.

  He could see Elizabeth straighten her shoulders. “Your friends will always be welcome at your home. I wouldn’t stand in their way. It’s your house.”

  “It will be your house, too.”

  Now that they were talking about it, Jake wondered what Elizabeth would think of his house. They were mentioning it as though it was a grand place, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even really a house. He supposed it would be considered a cabin if a man were generous in his judging. Jake had given all the smooth lumber he had to the school when they were building that. He was due to get lumber in return when the school had some money, but he planned to let the debt pass. The children needed books more than he needed a better cabin, especially since it was just him.

  Jake stopped himself. Of course, he wasn’t alone anymore. He had his nieces and now this woman. The next thing, he’d be getting a dog. He should have built a better place. But, it was too late now. The smooth lumber was gone and his cabin already built.

  He had used the logs from some of the cottonwood trees that trailed along the Dry Creek when he built his place. The logs weren’t big enough to make a full cabin like they made back East. Folks here dug a trench and put the logs in it upright and then chinked it all together with mud, lime and twigs. They’d done that at the fort. Still, he’d put in a window of real glass opposite the fireplace when he could have just stretched a greased deerskin over the opening. He hadn’t bothered with a proper floor, though. Instead, he’d packed the earth down and spread some buffalo hides around.

  What had looked to him like a snug home for wintering would not appeal to a woman who’d known better. He was a fool if he thought otherwise. Maybe Annabelle had heard about the house from Higgins and warned Elizabeth about it. Something was upsetting the woman he was planning to marry.

  This time Jake did put his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder. Her muscles were tight. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was forcing herself to stand there without pulling away or because she was trying not to give in to his embrace. Neither thought comforted him much.