by Karen Baney
Will’s mind kept drifting back to Mrs. Anderson. After eleven, Paul came around asking the men to move out so they could close and clean the dining hall. Will lingered a little longer and was just about to be the last out the door, when Mrs. Anderson’s voice halted him. He turned toward the sound, smile stretching across his face.
“Wait,” she said. “Yesterday you said something about God directing you to the Arizona Territory. What did you mean?”
That certainly was not what Will expected. “That is not a quickly answered question, ma’am. Perhaps best left for another day.”
“Do you believe God has plans for us?”
His heart slammed into his chest at her wording. She could not possibly mean “us” as in him and her. The thought warmed him and he felt his lips curl in a half smile.
“Yes, I do,” he replied. Let her interpret that however she might, he thought, as he walked the short distance back to the bunkhouse.
The next morning, as soon as Hannah finished the breakfast dishes, she took off down the street towards Don Manuel’s store. After patching up Jensen, she must have received half a dozen proposals yesterday afternoon before word circulated that she was a widow. It was time to do something about it.
Stepping into the dim log cabin, Hannah waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. The store was no more than a few rows of shelves containing various items, scattered in no particular order. The place was an eighth of the size of Francis’ mercantile back in Ohio. Scanning the shelves, she looked for anything she could use to dye her clothing black.
Her boots clopped loudly on the wooden floor, drawing more attention to her presence than she would have liked, though there were only a few customers in the store. Making her way to the last isle of shelves, she sighed in frustration. There was nothing.
She walked to the counter where Don Manuel stood. “Excuse me,” she said, “Do you carry any black dye?”
“Got nothing like that here. What’d you need it for?” Don Manuel replied.
Nerves got the better of her. Any hope of a composed conversation died. “I am a widow,” she blurted out, hoping the reason would be obvious.
“Well, if you want I can order it from Santa Fe, but it will probably be a few months before it gets in. And I’ll need the money up front.”
When he told her how much it would cost, Hannah choked. The price was insane.
“Don’t mean to intrude, Mrs. Anderson,” another customer said. When Hannah turned his direction, she recognized him as Captain Walker.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said with a sympathetic smile on his lips. “It would be a shame to ruin such a pretty dress.”
Hannah didn’t know whether to be flattered or angry. “But, I’m a widow. I should be wearing black,” she argued.
“Maybe back east. Or in the big cities in California. But you’re in the western territories. Things are a mite different here. No one in this town expects you to wear black. Everyone knows the story of how you arrived here,” Captain Walker said, kindly. “And no one questions that you are still in mourning.”
Looking down at the floor, Hannah wanted to object. If that were true, why did so many men ask for her hand in the last day?
“Mrs. Anderson,” Captain Walker continued, “Life in the west is different. A month seems like six, a year seems like three. Putting food on the table and staying alive are the priorities here. I know you womenfolk put a lot of importance on following the rules of society. But in a place as remote as this, there are more important things.
“I’ve traveled all over the territories. Ran into more widows than I’d like to count. Most aren’t wearing black and most aren’t waiting a year or more to get hitched again.”
Hannah’s head snapped up to see if Captain Walker was serious. He was.
“I certainly hope, for your sake, that when the right man—”
A crash of merchandise falling to the floor in the next aisle caused her to look that way. A light tan Stetson ducked below her eye line in a flash.
Walker continued without missing a beat, “comes along, you’ll consider that some rules of society can be bent in the wilderness.”
Stunned, Hannah could not think of a proper response.
“I don’t mean any disrespect. Just making an observation,” Captain Walker finished before taking his leaving.
Whether she wanted to or not, she may just have to take Captain Walker’s unsolicited advice. She could not justify spending that much for dye. Maybe if she stopped wearing the light blue calico and stuck with her gray and green dresses it would be close enough. Without another word, she started out the door.
“He’s right, ma’am,” Will Colter’s voice startled her.
“Pardon?”
Pushing away from the side of the cabin wall where he had been leaning, he said, “It’d be a shame to ruin such a pretty dress.” Touching his fingers to the brim of his light tan Stetson, he bid her good day.
Chapter 27
Prescott
June 24, 1864
Since Will’s last visit to the town, he thought of Hannah often. The more time he spent alone in the big, empty ranch house, the more he thought of her.
And he had the same argument in his head over and over. Should he try to get to know her better? Or was she still grieving the loss of her husband? On one hand, he could not deny she intrigued him. But, he wanted to respect her need to mourn. But, he really wanted to be near her.
A playful smile stretched across his lips as he remembered her shocked look when Captain Walker suggested she not worry about wearing widow’s black. She seemed scandalized by the idea. He wondered if she took Walker’s advice or not.
As Will neared the town he immediately noticed significant changes. Newly named streets and new buildings made the town almost unrecognizable from a month ago. The road he entered on was called Gurley Street. As he neared the center of the town, he saw a brand new building for the Arizona Miner, the semi-monthly newspaper, near Don Manuel’s store. The building was the first of its kind—finished flat board planks, whitewashed and new. All of the other buildings more closely resembled log cabins of varying sizes and in varying stages of construction.
On Cortez Street, there were other buildings being erected near Lancaster Boardinghouse. One looked like it might be a restaurant. Another, perhaps a store. On Montezuma Street, the street parallel to Cortez on the other side of the grassy town square stood a new saloon and several other temporary or unfinished buildings. The next street past Montezuma was Granite Street, near which construction had started on the Governor’s Mansion.
The streets were wide, large enough to pass two wagons, with enough room left for wagons to be parked alongside the streets. Leaving the wagon in front of Lancaster Boardinghouse, Owens and Whitten decided to check out the town’s new digs—and most likely the saloon.
Will, on the other hand, was eager to see Hannah. Grabbing the first of several crates of smoked and preserved meat, he entered the dining hall. All was quiet—not even a sound from the kitchen. The back door was propped open. Peeking out, he didn’t see anyone so he left the first crate on the table.
Surely the ladies were around somewhere. The clothesline in the back was empty, though a tub of clean water and soap waited nearby. First he checked the Mother Lode. Opening the door he listened for the slightest sound. Still no one. He pulled the door shut behind him and walked the few steps to the Gold Mine.
As he reached for the door handle, the door flew open and Hannah ran headlong into his chest showering him with a stack of dirty laundry. Instinct caused him to grab her upper arms, steadying her, and saving them both from toppling to the ground. The contact sent lightening up his arm. She was mere inches from him. She was wearing the light blue calico dress, not widow’s black, he noted. As he looked down he swallowed hard at the sight of her lovely deep blue eyes looking into his. His gaze dropped to her soft, pink lips.
---
When Hannah opened th
e door with an armload of laundry, the last thing she expected was to crash into Will Colter. Tilting her head back, her gaze moved from the buttons on his shirt, up his neck to his golden brown eyes. His dark brown hair was crowned with his trusty cowboy hat. His jaw was strong and angular coming to a nice smooth chin. She didn’t remember him being this handsome or tall. And he was still holding her arms. Embarrassed, she felt the heat rush to her face before looking down at the laundry scattered on the ground.
“Hannah, is something wrong?” came Betty’s voice from the bunkhouse. Catching sight of Will with Hannah in his arms, she broke into a wide grin.
Will abruptly released her, saying, “Sorry, ma’am,” as he bent down to help pick up the laundry.
“I can get that,” Hannah said lamely as she stooped to pick up the clothes, nearly bumping her head on his. She let out a nervous laugh. Taking a step backwards, she knelt again, this time with a little more distance between her and Will.
“Will, so good to see you,” the still grinning Betty said, mischief shading her voice.
“Betty. I’m here with the monthly supply of beef,” he responded. Placing the last of the laundry in Hannah’s arms, he added, “Pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Anderson.” His gaze held hers, steady, unmoving.
Clearing her throat, Hannah replied with a brief nod, “Mr. Colter.”
“Hannah, dear, why don’t you set that laundry over by the wash basin and then show Will where to put the supplies.”
Still flustered, Hannah dropped the laundry in a pile, aware that Will followed close behind. Turning towards the front of the dining hall, she was careful not to accidently launch herself into his arms again. Her nervousness increased. She needed to get him talking. Otherwise, she might just keep thinking about his touch. “How are things at the ranch?”
“Good. We had a good breeding season this year. The cattle seem to like this Arizona weather as much as I do.”
Hannah laughed, “This weather is incredible. Not nearly the cold spells I was used to in Ohio. What is your ranch like?”
“It’s northeast of here, nestled in a series of rolling hills near one of those granite looking mountains. I’ve never seen such bright white rock. Not too far from the ranch house is a small lake,” he said. His eyes lit up with excitement as he described his home. “The bunkhouse is set farther to the east, near the barn.”
“You have a ranch house built already? Tell me about it.”
“It’s a three room log cabin. I built out two bedrooms and then the large room has a cooking stove on one side and fireplace on the other. There’s not much to it. Kinda empty.”
Hannah picked up on the far away tenor of his voice. Loneliness? “Do you ever get lonely out there?”
His hesitation made Hannah think she was right. He was lonely.
Hefting one of the crates from the wagon, he said, “It can be at times. Mostly the boys and I are out taking care of the cattle so there’s always someone around.”
“Someone or some cow?” teased Hannah as she led him through the dining hall to the kitchen.
He chuckled. “Probably more cow.”
Hannah directed him to put the crates on the table so she could unload them. Once they were empty, she found herself wishing for an excuse to keep him there.
“Would you care for some coffee?” she asked, directing him to sit at the table.
“Love some.” Will answered, his smile lighting up his face. As she turned to warm the coffee, he asked, “How do you like working for Betty?”
“Oh, I like it a great deal. Betty and I became friends on the Santa Fe Trail, that’s the route we took to get here. We traveled the entire length of the journey in the wagon in front of hers. She’s the one who taught me how to cook over an open fire. I had never been without the luxury of a stove before, nor would I want to be again.”
Pulling two mugs from the shelf, she filled them with coffee. “Sugar?”
Will shook his head. Drew had liked his coffee black, too.
Handing him the mug, she continued, “Betty is a real sweet woman. Almost like a mother.”
“Was it hard to leave your mother?”
So many questions from the quiet man she met last month. Seems he could carry a conversation after all. She debated for a brief moment, under the guise of sipping her coffee, whether or not to tell him about her childhood. Last time she had so little to say that was not gloomy. This topic was no better.
Plunging ahead, she said, “My mother died in child birth when I was twelve. We lived on a farm and after she died, my pa sent me to live with my aunt for a few years. I was almost fifteen before he brought me back to the farm. I never was sure why he sent me away for so long. Then, when I was eighteen my pa died. The doctor said it was his heart.” Shaking away the sad memories, she finished, “Anyway, Betty is what I wished for in a mother and I love working with her.”
Will’s eyes were full of compassion as he listened to her story. “What did you do after your pa died?”
“I don’t have any brothers or sisters, so the whole farm was left to me. I certainly couldn’t run a farm by myself and there were crops in the field waiting to be harvested. My uncle advised me to sell the farm and with his help I got a good price. Then I moved into the city and worked at the mercantile until I married Drew. We never spent any of the money from the sale of the farm until we left for Arizona. It made the trip much easier.”
She looked up from her coffee mug into his warm golden brown eyes. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much she was talking, she mumbled, “I’m sorry to go on so.”
His smile lit up his face, sending waves of warmth over her.
Before he could respond, Betty bounded in through the back door. “Dear me, we better get started on dinner.”
Hannah asked him, “Will you be staying for dinner?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said as Betty rushed him out of the kitchen with a stern look and shake of her arm.
Mixing up the biscuit dough, Betty commented, “You two sure did talk for awhile.”
Hannah’s cheeks flushed as she turned to grab items for the meal. One thing was for certain, she did enjoy talking to the man now that he found words to contribute.
---
After being kicked out of the kitchen, Will decided to take a stroll around town. He stopped by the Arizona Miner and picked up the latest edition from just a few days ago. Tucking it under his arm, he looked around the booming town. Paul Lancaster drew water from the well at the center of town. The well sat next to a large grassy section that was rumored to be reserved for a government building and town square. Odd how such a new town thought to reserve space for social gatherings.
Taking a seat in the shade, Will read the newspaper. An advertisement for Jackson’s Boardinghouse on Montezuma Street caught his attention. The man was offering lower rates than Betty. Apparently, the establishment opened today. Seeing how busy Lancaster’s was the last time he was in town, Will doubted the competition would hurt Betty’s business.
The newspaper also made mention of holiday celebrations planned for the fourth of July. He assumed the town would not have a celebration since it was so new. But, after today’s visit, he saw the town had grown considerably and understood the desire for the festivities. He would plan to corral the cattle for the day, so he would only have to leave a few men at the ranch. They could use something fun to look forward to.
A shadow fell across the ground in front of him. When he looked up he saw Whitten and Owens shifting from foot to foot.
“Are we gonna get some grub before we go, boss?” Owens asked. The man was always thinking about food.
Nodding his head, they walked to the dining hall at Lancaster’s. The place was busier than he expected, since most of the miners usually ate their packed lunch at whatever creek they were mining. Will recognized several men from the town meeting last month including the journalist for the newspaper. Owens found a spot for the three of them to sit.
; Hannah came around with coffee, and paused, looking at Will. “Who do we have here?”
“This is Daniel Owens and Sam Whitten. Boys, this is Mrs. Anderson.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said smiling.
As she continued on to the next group of men, Owens jabbed Will in the ribs. He said, rather loudly, “I can see why you’ve been insisting on making the deliveries, boss.”
Both Whitten and Owens chuckled heartily, having fun at Will’s expense. Hannah glanced back over at them, her flushed face indicating she heard the teasing. Will just gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged. He wasn’t sure but he thought she smiled back before going to the kitchen.
Arms loaded with plates of food, Hannah made the rounds. “Mr. Hand, I was excited to read your article about the upcoming holiday. Mr. Binks, how is the Governor’s Mansion coming along? Mr. Smith, in town for the day?”
Will watched amazed that she appeared to know everyone in the town by name and what business they pursued. No wonder Lancaster’s was so busy. Then another thought occurred to him, one that he didn’t like at all. With all of this attention, she would not remain unattached for long.
“Mr. Colter, Mr. Owens, Mr. Whitten. How long are you gentlemen in town for?” she asked, making direct eye contact with Will.
Whitten beat him to the punch. “We’ll be heading back after the meal, although we’d rather stay and chat with you, pretty lady,” his teasing meant for Will.
“So soon?” Hannah questioned, her expression giving away her disappointment.
“I’m afraid so,” Will answered.
“Will we be seeing you on the Fourth?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Will replied with a broad smile.
A few more men entered the dining hall, drawing Hannah’s attention. As they took their seats, Hannah quickly fetched them coffee and a meal. As she set a plate down in front of one man dressed in a rather expensive looking suit, he grabbed her wrist.