by Tracey Cross
“Thank you for your advice, sir.” Jane’s voice had taken on the icy tone she used when she had her mind set. Franklin hadn’t known her long, but he knew her well enough to know that she didn’t care for Uncle Nathan’s suggestion. “But I have no intention of getting married until I pay off certain debts my recently deceased husband left me with.”
Bess cleared her throat. “Yes, but we know Mr. Bedlow’s character, Jane. He is not a good man where women are concerned. He owns other businesses in Sidney as well as Deadwood. Most of them cater to the—er—baser side of human nature.”
The air around the room thickened with a tense silence as Jane clearly took in Bess’s meaning. Her face fell. “Then I suppose I shall have to find someone else to hire my wagon.”
Franklin wanted to remind her that the wagon didn’t technically belong to her, but what was the use?
Uncle Nathan stared at her as though this was the first time he had really considered her presence. “You know how to crack a whip, ma’am?”
“No, sir. I have been attempting to learn from the memory of my husband’s handling of it, but so far I have not been successful.”
He scowled and gave a frustrated huff. “Then how do you expect to move the oxen? You have to know how to handle a whip if you’re gonna haul freight.”
Franklin frowned. What was Uncle Nathan doing?
“I—I don’t know. I had hoped I could learn as I go along. I’ve been watching the freighters all day. It seems to be a precise movement of the wrist and shoulder.”
“You can’t learn by watching.” Uncle Nathan speared a bite of meat from his plate and shoved it into his mouth. “Meet me in back of the house before breakfast, and I’ll give you a lesson.”
Jane’s eyes grew wide. “You will?” Her hope-filled voice shot a dart of shame to Franklin. He had done nothing but discourage her since their meeting. But if she had any idea what she was attempting to get herself into, she would surely take him up on his offer of train fare back East for her and Danny.
Uncle Nathan nodded. “You say you got a wagon?”
“Yes, sir. My husband left it heavily in debt. I don’t have much money to purchase supplies to haul, but I could get enough for a start.”
“What I have in mind won’t cost you a plug nickel.”
“Just what do you have in mind, Uncle Nathan?” Franklin didn’t want to believe the worst about his uncle, but what was this sudden interest he’d taken in Mrs. Albright?
“I reckon that’s between me and the widow here.” Uncle Nathan scowled pointedly. “Don’t you think it’s right admiresome that a woman like this little thing wants to work like a man to pay off her dead husband’s debts?”
“Thank you, sir,” Jane said before Franklin could answer. Franklin turned to her. Jane’s eyes were full of unshed tears. “I shall meet you and gratefully accept your kind offer of a lesson in handling the whip.”
“Ma! Ma!”
At the panicked scream from upstairs, Jane shot to her feet, then grabbed onto the table as she swayed. “Excuse me, please.” She steadied herself for a second, then hurried from the room.
After she left, Franklin turned quick attention on his uncle. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Helping out a little lady I took a liking to.” Uncle Nathan sipped his coffee. “What do you care?”
“I just want to know what your intentions are. Why teach her to crack a whip? She’ll never find a freight company willing to allow a woman to haul supplies. It’s too difficult.”
“No, it ain’t. I know a woman with four wagons to her name and a couple of men working for her.”
“I know Sal. She’s rough and strong. Jane isn’t.”
“Jane?” Bess’s voice broke in, filled with amusement at his slipup.
“Mrs. Albright,” he corrected.
Now that Bess had entered the conversation, she stayed in. “What are you thinking of doing, Uncle Nathan?”
“I’m going to let her run with me. We can pay her a fair wage. It wouldn’t hurt to add another wagon. Coop was planning on bringing it up anyway. We were actually thinking another ten.”
Franklin nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing. Deadwood was quickly evolving from a mining camp to a town, and with that came building, and building required wood. But that didn’t mean he wanted Jane to be one of those freighters. Besides the fact that he didn’t believe she could ever be suited to such difficult labor, he didn’t want her to pay the debt. He’d already collected the homestead, and the cattle he’d purchased would be arriving sometime in the fall if all went well. If he allowed her to pay the debt, he wouldn’t be able to connect her land to the adjoining homestead. Consequently, he wouldn’t have enough land for the cattle.
“Her husband was in debt to us. Her so-called wagon is ours anyway.”
Bess’s mouth dropped. “You mean to tell me you’re the one she’s in debt to?”
His ears burned as all eyes at the table accused him. “Not really. I’ve already taken possession of the freight business as well as the homestead, and I have no intention of taking the payments and returning the land. That’s what she wants. The homestead.”
The two actresses glared at him, their eyes giving him a full accounting of their collective opinion of him—as if he cared what two painted floozies thought of him. Still, it stung being on the receiving end of everyone’s disapproval.
“Mr. Lloyd has kindly offered my son and me train fare back East.”
Franklin rose quickly, knocking over his chair, at the sound of Jane’s voice. “That’s right. Wherever they want to go, as a matter of fact, and enough to sustain them until she is able to find employment and suitable accommodations.”
One of the actresses snorted. “Take the offer, honey,” she said. “Get that boy out of this place.”
“I have no intention of taking Mr. Franklin’s offer. I don’t want his money. I want my land. And I intend to pay back every cent my husband squandered and get my son’s inheritance back.”
“For Pete’s sake, son,” Uncle Nathan piped in, “give the lady back her land. You don’t need it.”
Franklin smarted under the harsh judgment of his own family.
Jane took her seat with a sleepy Danny in her lap. She began to fill her plate again, presumably for Danny. “I appreciate everyone’s concern,” she said with a sweeping glance that included everyone who had championed her. “But I do not want Mr. Franklin to give me anything. The homestead wouldn’t be fully Danny’s if I don’t pay what we owe.”
Admiration filled all eyes that settled on Jane. Franklin found himself admiring her all over again too. He glanced down at Danny. The lad didn’t return the smile. Rather, he glared. Apparently, the boy had heard enough to surmise what they were saying. For the first time in his life, Franklin was the villain.
Inwardly he squirmed under the child’s silent admonishment. He turned his gaze on Uncle Nathan. He supposed he could take a payment out of her salary until the homestead was paid off. “All right, Mrs. Albright. You have six months to cover your husband’s debt. At the end of that time, if you haven’t paid in full, you agree to accept fare back East, and I retain the land.”
Jane’s solemn blue eyes settled on him. “That sounds fair. Shall we put it in writing?”
Uncle Nathan laughed. “You have a table full of witnesses. He won’t cheat you.”
“All right then.” She held out her hand. “I suppose we should at least shake on it. And, Mr. Lloyd, I will not lose my land.”
In that moment, he believed her. She had won. Formidable woman. There was nothing he could do but sit back and wait for her to earn enough to settle back onto the land or quit once it became clear to her that freighting was dirty work, filled with danger and hardship.
He lay in bed that night trying to figure out how she had managed to use his wagon, his freighting company, and the salary he would be paying her to buy back a homestead that legally belonged to him and that he had no
desire to lose. Bess was right. He should have just married her. A smart, pretty, godly woman. What more could a man want in a wife?
Jane met with Nathan Crawford before breakfast as he’d instructed. After two hours, she felt she could at the very least lay the whip on the backside of the oxen, should they fail to cooperate with her instructions.
“Now you get cleaned up and have your breakfast,” Mr. Crawford instructed, as though she were one of his nieces and nephews. “Then we’ll go down to the office and set you up. Where’s your wagon?”
“Boarded at Wilder’s Livery, with the oxen.”
“Fine. I’ll have them picked up and brought to our offices.”
“No.” Jane’s heart lifted into her throat. “I’d like to settle up with Mr. Wilder and thank him personally for his kindness.”
Mr. Crawford appeared confused. “Suit yourself.”
As she made her way inside, through the kitchen, she snatched two biscuits from the basket on the counter. She was about to walk out when someone gasped. “She stole them!”
Whipping around, she met the gazes of three girls and a boy. “I didn’t exactly steal…”
One of the girls, a freckled, tiny thing of no more than six or seven, stepped forward. “Miss Bess says there’s no need to steal, because God always provides more than enough to feed us all.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Bess entered. She quietly took in the scene, then asked, “What happened?”
“She took biscuits.”
Bess glanced up and captured Jane’s gaze. There was no reason to explain. From the quiet understanding in the woman’s eyes, it was clear she knew why Jane had done it. “Children, Mrs. Albright and Danny are guests in this house. She is going on a journey today and likely took the biscuits so they won’t get hungry later.”
“Yes, of course, that’s right.” Jane smiled at the children. “I am so sorry I didn’t ask permission. It was wrong of me.”
“Well, I think we should make a full basket for Mrs. Albright and Danny to take on their journey,” Bess said, her eyes bright and smiling toward the children. She reached inside a cabinet and pulled out a basket. She folded a cloth from another cabinet and set it inside the basket. “What do you think? What shall we send with them?”
The children caught the joy of giving, and everyone made suggestions. By the time they were finished, Bess had shoved a basket filled with goodies into Jane’s hand: sandwiches made with thick slices of ham, a jar of apple cider, peach preserves, several more biscuits, and leftover cobbler from the night before.
“All right, children,” Bess said. “Please go to the table.”
When they left, she smiled and handed Jane the basket. “There now,” she said quietly. “This is a much better fare.” She gave Jane a quick hug. “The trip to Deadwood is over two hundred and fifty miles, so the food won’t last long.”
“We’ll be fine. I can hunt and fish.”
Bess shook her head. “We have room here. You could stay on. From the looks of your and Danny’s clothes, I’m guessing you’re more than efficient as a seamstress. The saloon girls always want new costumes. And they pay well.”
Jane’s face warmed at the suggestion. She shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Bess asked. “There is more than one way to pay a debt. It doesn’t have to be freighting.”
“It’s the fastest way to pay him back. You heard what he said. Six months.” Her baby would be here before then, but she was determined. If she had to haul freight with a son at her side and a baby in her arms, that was exactly what she would do. Jane knew the urgency. Mr. Lloyd had been clear that he would be using the land himself. If she didn’t pay him sooner than later, he would be settled into her house and tending her fire before she could shake a stick.
“Frank is reasonable—and a gentleman. You could do worse.”
“I could do worse, what?”
Bess smiled. “You’re being deliberately naïve. Frank was devoted to my sister until her death. I’ve never seen such a good, caring husband. I can see he has taken a liking to you. With a little bit of encouragement from you—”
A gasp escaped Jane’s throat. “I could never marry him to pay a debt. Why, why, that would be—it would make me no better than those fancy women in the bawdy houses. I won’t do it.”
“All right, simmer down.” Bess wrapped her arm around Jane’s shoulder. “I understand your point of view. I don’t agree with you, but I do understand.” She walked her through the kitchen door and the back way around the dining room, to the stairs. “I assume you don’t intend to take Uncle Nathan up on his offer of joining Lloyd Brothers Freighting.”
The knot in Jane’s stomach tightened. “No. I can’t allow Mr. Lloyd to pay me wages that I owe him in the first place. I need to take care of this on my own.”
Bess smiled affectionately. “As silly as that sounds, I understand your stubborn reasoning.”
“You won’t say anything, will you? I want to meet with Mr. Bedlow and make an agreement with him before Mr. Lloyd can object again.”
Worry dimmed the light in Bess’s eyes. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Jane wasn’t at all sure. But she knew Mr. Bedlow was the only freighter in town who had given her the time of day. “I suppose we’ll find out,” she said.
Bess reached out and wrapped her into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll try to stall Frank as long as I can. He’ll be angry when he discovers you’re gone again.” She chuckled. “Personally, I think it’s good for a man to chase a woman. He who finds a wife finds a good thing.”
“Well, I’m not looking for a husband, and even if Mr. Lloyd is looking for a wife, he’s certainly not looking in my direction. He’s made that abundantly clear.”
“He has?”
“Just—something he said when he offered to pay our fair back East.”
“Frank doesn’t know what he wants. But I have a feeling he’s going to find out as soon as you’re out of his sight.” She winked. “Make him chase you, but go slow so he can catch you.”
“You’re hopeless, Bess.” If they’d met at a different time, they definitely would have been friends. “I’m so glad we met. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“I have a feeling we’re going to meet again.”
They said good-bye, and Jane hurried upstairs to collect her already packed bag and Danny. With the basket of food on her other arm, she made her way to Solomon’s Freight office. She had no idea why Bedlow called his business Solomon’s but wasn’t curious enough to ask.
“How come we left without having breakfast?” Danny asked.
“Because I have to see Mr. Bedlow, remember? We met him last night.”
Danny’s silence spoke pretty loudly. Jane felt chastised by her own child. She was sure his opinion of Mr. Bedlow had been shaped by Mr. Lloyd’s rather obvious dislike. She had her own misgivings but wouldn’t allow herself to be misled. After all, she was a grown woman.
The door was unlocked when Jane arrived at the freighting office ten minutes before seven. She ordered Cheyenne to stay outside the door and stepped inside. Lawrence, the clerk, was nowhere to be found. Jane was glad for Danny’s presence at least.
“Ah, not only punctual, but early.” Mr. Bedlow smiled. “A praiseworthy trait in a woman.”
“In anyone, I’d venture to say.”
His smile broadened, and he waved her to a chair. When he offered Danny a candy stick from a dish on the desk, Danny reached, but Jane stopped him with a firm hand on his little arm. “He hasn’t eaten his breakfast yet.”
Mr. Bedlow winked at Danny. “Later then.” His focus returned to Jane. “Shall I send out for breakfast?”
“No, thank you. I brought food enough for a couple of days. What I need from you is for you to allow me the opportunity to haul freight between Sidney and Deadwood.”
“And why, pray tell, would a woman like you wish to do such hard work?”
“We are all designed to
work hard,” she insisted. “I’ve done so for as far back as I have memory. This is simply another sort of hard work.”
Pressing his fingertips together, he pierced her with his gaze. “What if I could offer you a position where you can make double the money freighting would bring you?”
Jane’s shoulders straightened, and she sat a little higher in her chair. “Then I would say you are about to insult me. In which case, I will walk out of your office and never think a kind thought about you as long as I live.”
A chuckle rumbled his chest, and he opened a silver box on his desk. Lifting out a cigar, he observed her as he removed the end and lit the nasty thing. “I certainly couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t think kindly of me.”
The front door slammed, and telltale bootsteps sent a shot of dread through Jane’s stomach. The door to Mr. Bedlow’s office flew open, and Mr. Lloyd’s frame filled the doorway.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed.
Jane rose on trembling legs. “I should think it’s fairly obvious. Mr. Bedlow and I were just about to come to terms of my employment.”
She turned to Mr. Bedlow, whose eyes shone with conspiratorial amusement.
“What sort of game are you playing, Jane?” Mr. Lloyd stepped across the floor. “You came to an agreement with me last night.”
“Indeed?” Mr. Bedlow puffed on his cigar but remained seated.
“The arrangement I made with you was merely to pay the debts my husband left.” Jane turned to Mr. Bedlow. “Our agreement will allow me to honor the agreement I made with you.”
“You agreed to come work for me and Coop.”
“I don’t even know Coop.”
“Don’t twist this, Jane.” He reached out and grabbed her arm.
Mr. Bedlow was on his feet in a flash. “Let the lady go, Frank.”
Mr. Lloyd sneered. “You wouldn’t know a lady if your own mother walked into the room.”