“Yes, ma’am, it hurts like fire.”
“Artie, please hold Bo down while I remove his boot.”
“I shore wish you didn’t have to do that.” Bo’s voice was laced with fear.
“Relax, Bo. Mrs. Marcum can fix ya up.”
Artie gripped Bo’s shoulders as Evangeline worked the boot off, pressing all his weight into keeping the young man from moving. Bo’s shoulder’s bucked with the final pull of the boot, propelling the smaller man backward. Artie found the floor with his backside, but rose quickly and resumed his position near Bo’s side.
The swollen ankle carried a deep-purple bruise, with a red tinge forming near the toes from lack of circulation in the too-tight boot. The odor of a week-old, sweaty sock caused Evangeline to wrinkle her nose. “It’s not broken, which is good, but you have been using it too much. You have to let it heal. I’ll wrap it securely.” Turning to Artie, she said, “Mr. Weaver, I need something to elevate his foot.”
Artie pulled a blanket from a nearby bunk and deftly folded it for the purpose. Once the ankle was bandaged, she rested Bo’s leg on the heavy material.
“You must keep your foot propped up. For the next week, you are not going anywhere.”
“A week?” Bo attempted to rise from his place.
Evangeline pressed him back to a lying position. “Maybe longer. You only made it worse by walking on it.”
“But Bart needs my help.”
“Whatever Bart is doing, someone else can help him. You are going to stay here and not move. You do, and I’ll tell Mr. Marcum to fire you.” I sure hope it doesn’t come to that. Guilt grabbed her as Bo stared at her. Then she wondered if Jake would really fire him on her say-so.
“Yes, ma’am.” Bo flopped back on his pillow with a moan. “And thank you.”
Once Evangeline heated some water on the stove and made willow bark tea to reduce his fever, she gathered a few more blankets from the unused beds to further elevate Bo’s foot. The dirty blanket he was covered with was exchanged for a somewhat fresher one. Washing bedding apparently didn’t take top priority in the bunkhouse.
When Bo finished the tea, Evangeline took the cup and mixed a little laudanum with water. “Here is something for the pain. I’ll check on you later this afternoon.”
“Mr. Weaver, can you get the wagon ready? Juliet and I are going to town. Jake told me you would be our driver. Bo will sleep away most of the day, which is what he needs. Find someone to check on him while we are gone.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure Solomon will do it. And please, ma’am, call me Artie. I don’t much care for being called Mr. Weaver.” He tipped his hat before heading out.
***
Artie put a blanket in the wagon bed for Juliet. “So’s your dress don’t get dirty, little miss. My, don’t you look dandy.”
“Thank you, Artie.” Juliet smoothed her new dress. “You’re a real gentleman.”
Evangeline paid close attention to the road ahead, careful to memorize landmarks for future reference. Unlike the city streets she’d traversed in recent years, the trail from the Double M to Charleton had only a few distinguishing characteristics. A chimney, the only remnant of a burned-out cabin, stood to her left. A large boulder caused the otherwise straight road to curve to the right about a mile later, then miles of flat prairie.
The quietness in the wagon surprised Evangeline. “A penny for your thoughts, Juliet.”
“I’m thinkin’ ’bout how to describe this ride for my journal.” Juliet stood and pressed herself between the adults on the buckboard seat. “I brung it to write in while we go along.” Resuming her place, she steadied herself as the wagon wheels rocked in and out of a pothole. “Artie, tell Aunt Evangeline ’bout yourself. I can put down you two talked while I was writin’.”
Artie and Evangeline glanced at each other, both trying not to laugh. Evangeline’s voice was laced with humor when she finally spoke. “Very well, sir, tell me about yourself.”
“Ask away.” Artie turned his head slightly and yelled over his shoulder. “Juliet, don’t write my words in your journal, you hear.”
“Don’t talk to me, I’m writin’,” Juliet responded.
Evangeline began her interview. “Where are you from, Mr. Weaver?”
Artie took his time answering. “Born in Massachusetts, but grew up in Illinois.”
“Why do you wear that Confederate hat if you are a Northerner?”
“To rile Duke.” Artie’s gentle laughter caught Evangeline by surprise. Perhaps he was younger than she supposed.
“I’m only jokin’. I lost my hat and won this one in a poker game. Duke hates it.” Artie picked up his narrative as the road smoothed out. “I lost my brother and cousin to the war and my parents to savages. My sister Eleanor and I stayed a spell in both New Madras and Dolton. Them’s minin’ towns. At least they use to be. I got restless and drifted around till I come to the Double M. Like ranchin’ better than minin’.”
“What happened to Eleanor?”
Artie hesitated before answering. “She got a job … in Dolton … housekeepin’.”
Evangeline glanced at Artie, his face expressionless.
***
Calling Charleton a town was being polite in Evangeline’s estimation. About a dozen homes occupied the two streets paralleling the main street. Charleton General Store, with its colorful signs indicating its additional services of post office and telegraph station, occupied one corner. Sharing the same side of the unpaved street was the livery, undertaker, and a gun shop. Evangeline could make out a blacksmith shop, restaurant, hotel, and a very busy saloon. The edge of town had an Asian influence.
They passed a dilapidated church. “Does it have services?”
“Ever three or four months a circuit rider comes ‘round.” Artie glanced up. “It’s pretty big doin’s when he comes. There’s a potluck, and if anyone wants to get married or baptized, that’s the day to do it. I heard tell the last parson had a run-in with the saloon owner, and he lit out like a cat with his tail afire. That’s why we have to settle for a circuit rider.”
Evangeline cringed at the thought of a saloon having more influence in a town than the church.
Artie stopped the wagon near the Charleton General Store. “I’ll leave you ladies to your shoppin’. I got a few things to pick up for the boss.”
Juliet took Evangeline’s hand, and they entered the store. A tinkling bell announced their arrival.
“Welcome, ma’am,” the storekeeper greeted them. “How can I help you?”
Before Evangeline had a chance to introduce herself, a woman extended her hand. Her bright-yellow dress made Evangeline think of a large canary.
“I’m Cordelia Hanks. This is my husband Angus, and you must be the new Mrs. Marcum. Welcome to our emporium.” She looked Evangeline over thoroughly. “I can see by your lovely dress you are a woman of style. And I saw you admiring my new dress.”
Admiration is not exactly the word I would use. The color gave the woman a sallow appearance, and the garment clung tightly to her large frame in an unflattering manner.
“I just finished it yesterday. This is made from some of our newest yard goods. You must have a look at the rest of my selection.” She drew Evangeline to the back of the store where all the bolts of material were kept.
Mrs. Hanks seemed to suddenly notice Juliet and gave her the same scrutinizing look. “My, oh my, Juliet Marcum, I would never have recognized you.” She patted the young girl’s head. “I can see a lady’s touch has already made a difference over at your place.”
As the woman chattered on, Evangeline examined the yard goods. Many bolts of material were similar to Mrs. Hank’s dress, which seemed more suitable for tablecloths and window curtains. She found nothing she cared for.
“I’m sure you have lots of work to do there with all those men and that greaser woman.”
“Excuse me?” Evangeline’s sharp tone was either unnoticed or ignored by Mrs. Hanks. “Let me clear up y
our misconception. Selena Hernandez is exceptional at everything she does. She has taught Juliet proper manners. I consider derogatory remarks such as greaser to be offensive to any woman of good breeding. In the future, you will consider how you speak of anyone in our employ. Now, if you will mail these letters for me, I would appreciate it.”
Mrs. Hanks seemed taken aback by Evangeline’s forthright words but cleared her throat and made a feeble attempt at a smile. “Of course, I can take care of those right away.” She moved to the postal counter, the bustle of her yellow dress swishing back and forth.
“Thank you. I’ll give this list to your husband. I have a few more stops to make. We’ll return for the items later.”
Outside, Juliet put her hands on her hips. “You sure told that old bat what’s what.”
“Juliet, we do not refer to people as old bats no matter how irritating they are.” Evangeline forcefully opened her parasol, releasing some of her irritation for the proprietress.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“I am not particularly proud of how I behaved. I know the Lord wasn’t.” Evangeline placed Juliet’s hand in the crook of her elbow. “I want to explore the rest of this little town. You shall be my guide.”
They headed toward the Chinese section. The building with the dragon on the door contrasted with the general store in its neat and organized appearance. The contents were similar, but many items were distinctively Asian.
An older gentleman dressed in a Chinese robe bowed to Evangeline. He smiled a broad smile and swept his hand around the room to indicate she was welcome.
Evangeline bowed in return, hoping it was the proper response.
A young woman in a simple black dress approached. “May I help you?”
“Selena Hernandez recommended your store as the superior place to shop. She works for my husband, Jacob Marcum.”
The woman turned to the older man. The language between the two had a melodic quality.
“I am Wong Mae, and this is my father, Wong Chow. We hold Miss Selena in high regard. She is kind and brings us much business from the households of white ranchers. If she is your friend, you are ours. My father did not know Mr. Marcum married. He says to give you the best price on anything in the store.”
Evangeline smiled her thanks and looked through the material on display. The quality of the fabric was far superior to the general store. Her fingers ran over a thick brocade. “I would like to see some more of this fabric.” The texture of the fabric appealed to her seamstress touch, as did the green embroidered with peacocks and delicate vines. She was drawn to a similar pattern in blue with gold threads.
Mae took a few more selections from beneath the counter. Each pattern was delicately woven into the material. Here was something she could do and do very well. Reupholstering and sewing were things she’d enjoyed. Helping Katie in her seamstress shop taught her to sew quickly and with expertise. Excitement beat a pattern in her heart at the prospect of contributing something of value to her new world. “I need about forty yards.”
“Forty yards! What you make?”
“I’m going to cover two chairs and a settee, as well as two large windows.”
“The blue better. It is heavier and good for cushions.”
“I agree,” Evangeline said with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt since arriving. “How much?”
Mae spoke to her father. “He says it is wedding gift. Your husband saved his life. When we first come here, some of the cowboys fight him and try to cut off his queue.”
“His queue?”
“His long braid. He believe in old ways. It is disgrace to cut off. Your husband fight the men for my father. Now father has paid debt.”
“Very well. I appreciate your kindness and will be sure to tell my husband.” Evangeline did not wish to take advantage of them and explored the rest of the store, determined to make a purchase. “This box is lovely, such fine carving.” She picked up the ornate trinket box and found hair ribbons for Juliet. “Do you have any medicines?”
“Yes, over this way please.”
Mae took Evangeline to a side room lined with shelves of herbs labeled in Chinese and helped her select what she wanted, even writing out the English translations.
“Why you buy medicine here? Most whites not believe in our cures.”
“I believe in them. A friend of mine introduced me to a Dr. Lo. He is a fine doctor whose remedies saved lives the white doctors had given up on.”
“You are a healer?”
Evangeline pondered how to respond, not wanting to break her promise to Jake. “With the Lord’s help, yes.”
***
Evangeline and Juliet returned to the general store just as a young woman wearing a plaid wool skirt, oversized flannel shirt, and a hat with large feathers entered. She stomped toward them. Evangeline liked the woman’s infectious smile.
“Howdy, I’m Bertha Eugenia Woods.” She extended her hand. “And who might you be?”
“Evangeline O … Marcum.” She smiled back and took Bertha’s hand.
“You Juliet’s new ma? I heard tell she was gettin’ one.”
“I’m her new aunt. It is very nice to meet you, Bertha.”
“Really? Well, wonderful. Would you like to come over for a visit tomorrow?”
“So nice of you to ask. Where do you live?” Evangeline ignored Juliet’s tug on her sleeve.
Bertha turned at the tinkle of the doorbell. Artie’s appearance caused a crooked grin to form on the young woman’s face. “Howdy there, Artie. How are you this fine day?” Bertha flashed her lopsided smile. “Do you know Mrs. Marcum?”
“Yep, I do. I work for her husband.”
“Course you do. You work for her husband. You work for Juliet’s uncle. Her uncle, Jake Marcum. Yes, you do indeed. Can you bring Missus Evangeline Marcum for a visit tomorrow? Pa and me could use the company.”
Artie looked at Evangeline, his eyebrows raised in question.
“I’ll see if we can make the time. I’m sure Artie can take me if Mr. Marcum doesn’t have something else for him to do. Juliet would love a ride out to your place.”
Evangeline disregarded Juliet’s open-mouth expression and the stare from Mrs. Hanks. Her heart warmed to the delightful, innocent woman.
Bertha curtsied to everyone. “I gotta go and tell Pa. It’s time to go. He’s over at the saloon havin’ hisself a drink. Gotta go now.”
Once Bertha left, Mr. Hanks approached. “Mrs. Marcum, I have everything ready for your order except the laudanum. We’re all out, but I can order more.”
“Please do. And I’ll make a list of a few other medicines I would like for you to keep on hand, if possible.”
“Should take about a month to get here. You know, it’s hard not to overhear Bertha when she’s conversin’. Since you’re new to the community, let me offer a piece of friendly advice. If I was you, I would ignore her invitation.”
“She is the first neighbor to invite me for a visit. I look forward to getting to know her.”
“But you must see she’s not right.”
Evangeline found Mr. Hanks as annoying as his wife. “Not right compared to whom?”
Mr. Hanks snorted and twisted his lips in what appeared an effort to recapture his words. “I’ll put this order on the bill with everything else.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather pay the bill in full at this time.”
“This purchase?” Mr. Hanks inquired, looking a bit confused.
“The whole bill, if you please.”
The man’s eyes were as round as his belly. “It’ll take a minute to add it all up.” His chubby finger slid down the row of figures. “Let’s see, that’s three hundred fifty-two dollars and seventeen cents. Let’s round it up to three hundred fifty-three to cover the fee for carryin’ the credit.”
“That much?”
“Most of the ranchers wait till after the cattle drive to settle their accounts. Jake’ll be in to pay it then. So why don’t I just a
dd these items to your bill?”
“No, I’ll pay now, but I would like to check your figures if you don’t mind.”
Mr. Hanks turned the ledger book around, looking quite surprised at her request. Evangeline ran her finger down the page and totaled it in her head. “The total is two hundred fifty-two dollars and seventeen cents. You appear to have miscalculated.”
The man frowned and rechecked the figures. “You’re absolutely right. My apologies.”
Artie approached the counter with a new Stetson in hand. “How much?”
“Three dollars seems about right.”
Evangeline studied the hat before she spoke up. “It can’t be worth more than two dollars. At least that is the going rate in Missouri.”
Mr. Hanks frowned at her again, then turned his attention to Artie. “Let’s split the difference and say two-fifty.”
“Sold.” Artie handed over the money, placed the new hat on his head, and left Evangeline to finish her business. She withdrew the exact amount for the bill from her purse.
“Ma’am, I don’t recommend carryin’ large sums of money around these parts. Some unsavory character might try to steal it from you. That’s why the menfolk don’t let their women come and pay the bill.”
“I find credit an unsavory robber. Please, may I have a receipt?”
Evangeline experienced a deep sense of relief as she left the store. Artie, who was waiting beside the wagon, took her purchases and stowed them under the seat. The wagon bed, now loaded with a crate and two bales of barbed wire covered with a tarp, left no room for any further purchases.
“I ain’t never seen anybody barter with Mr. Hanks before. I appreciate it, ma’am. How did you know I only had three dollars?” Artie adjusted his new hat.
“I didn’t. But he struck me as one who prices things according to his customer.”
On the trip home, Juliet shared from her journal and rambled on about what she would write next. The journal was full of misspellings, but her vivid descriptions demonstrated a real talent for writing. Once home, the girl jumped off the wagon. “Hey, Selena, wait till you hear what happened in town.”
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