by Kim Redford
“I bet she’s all involved with Wild West Day plans,” Craig said. “I think she said she’d be coordinating with the sheriff’s department to make sure everything is ready for extra EMT, fire, and security.”
“That’s it exactly. We don’t want any slipups with so many people depending on us for safety.” Morning Glory clasped her hands together over her heart, bracelets jingling on her wrists. “Anyway, I’m just so excited to share what I found in the old archives.”
“What archives?” Fern asked.
“Well, I guess you wouldn’t exactly call them archives, but that’s the way I think of them.”
“What do you mean?” Craig sounded impatient and glanced around the store as if wanting to be on his way.
“When I bought this place, I found a bunch of disintegrating cardboard boxes in the storage room. They’d been stacked and shoved out of the way behind newer boxes and file cabinets.”
“Really? That’s interesting.” Fern was intrigued by the idea of so much resource material about the county.
“I think so, too. Anyway, it was a bunch of different stuff, like old newspapers, assorted business papers, yellowed telegrams, tintypes, and faded photographs. Those pictures of downtown are really interesting. I need to get them scanned and preserved for everyone.”
“I’d like to see them,” Fern said.
“All in good time.” Morning Glory gave her a big smile. “I’m still sorting through everything.”
“And there’s something in your archives to help us?” Craig asked.
“Well, wouldn’t you just know that pack rat of a former owner would squirrel away some old plats of the town and surrounding areas. And wouldn’t you just know that all these years later, they’d be just what we needed for research.”
“You’re kidding.” Fern could hardly believe her ears. “I figured we’d be going to the county courthouse.”
“That’s always an iffy proposition, what with fires over the years.” Morning Glory flicked a hand in dismissal at the idea.
“Yeah,” Craig said. “But who knows what’s still standing out on the prairie.”
“That’s not our concern…not at the moment.” Morning Glory whirled around and headed deeper into the store. “Come over to this counter.”
Fern followed with Craig right behind her. She looked over MG’s shoulder at several faded, cracked, yellowed papers on top of a glass countertop.
“There you go.” Morning Glory flicked a hand toward the papers.
Craig leaned closer. “Are you saying this is…”
“Sure-Shot and environs.”
Fern looked closer, realizing it was hard to tell much from the lines and notes on the paper. “This is what you wanted to show me?”
“Yes. And you can thank me later.” Morning Glory grabbed several sheets of regular typing paper. She thrust them toward Fern. “I made copies.”
“I can read a plat.” Craig took the pages, then quickly examined them.
“Excellent.” Morning Glory smiled at him. “That’s all I have for you right now, but it’s enough to get you started on your journey. And remember, time’s a wasting. Every moment you delay means structures still standing will most likely deteriorate even more.”
“Go?” Fern asked, feeling surprised at MG’s suggestion. “You mean, right now?”
“Yes, of course.” Morning Glory pointed toward the front door.
“We’re chairing Wild West Days. That has to come first.” Fern glanced up at Craig for confirmation.
“Right,” he said. “We hadn’t planned on following up on Fern’s idea until our big event is over.”
“Wild West Days isn’t going anywhere,” Morning Glory said. “But another gully washer or wild wind, and you could lose whatever is waiting to be found out there so you can preserve it for posterity.”
“But…” Fern started to say, then stopped at the determined look on MG’s face.
“Thanks.” Craig rolled up the papers. “We appreciate your help.”
“No need for thanks just yet.” Morning Glory gave them each a brusque nod. “Just get out there and get the goods.”
“Right.” Fern put a hand on Craig’s arm to let him know it was time to get out while the getting was good. MG was on a crusade, so their best bet was to simply not get in her way.
Morning Glory walked with them to the front door, opened it, and gave them a big grin and a thumbs-up.
Fern gave a little wave, tugged Craig out onto the boardwalk, and headed toward the Chuckwagon, where they were parked in front.
“You’re not thinking about going on this wild-goose chase right now, are you?” he asked.
“Bet she’s watching us. Let’s just get in your truck and head toward Sure-Shot.” She grabbed the rolled up paper from him.
“I don’t care if she is watching us. We can’t just take off and waste time on something that doesn’t need to be done till later.”
“I know. But we don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“That’s true.” He unlocked his truck and opened the door. “She’s more sensitive than she lets on. And your idea seems to mean a lot to her.”
Fern stepped up on the runner, sat down on the leather seat, and placed her purse on the floorboard.
He closed her door, walked around the front end, and joined her inside. “We still haven’t been to the Lone Star.”
“Let’s do it later. For now, let’s just go.”
“Where?” He started the engine and pulled onto Main Street.
She hesitated a moment, considering the copied plats, considering their workload, considering just a bit of escape. “Sure-Shot. Why not?”
“What do you mean ‘why not’? There are lots reasons to stay in town versus leaving it.”
She held up the plats. “I think things are pretty much under control here. I’m curious, aren’t you?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure I’m curious enough to drive to Sure-Shot and tromp across overgrown pastures.”
“When we check the plats, I bet all the structures were built near railroad tracks or old roads.”
“Winter would be a better time to look, when things aren’t so overgrown.”
“We’re wearing boots. And jeans.”
“You’re really serious, aren’t you?” he said.
“It’s kind of like a treasure hunt.”
“A bunch of rotted wood is not my idea of treasure.”
“You’re just grumpy because it’s not your idea.”
“If I’m grumpy, and I’m not saying I am, it’s because I’m about to get caught up in another problem.”
“You said it was a good idea.”
“That was several days ago. Now we’re a lot closer to Wild West Days.”
“Guess you’re right.” She looked down at the roll of plats, feeling let down in a way she hadn’t expected. He was right. She should be practical. They already had too much to do. And Simon was still out there, as far as she knew, although there’d been nothing more from him. Maybe he had given up and gone away for good.
“Do you really want to do this now?” Craig spoke in a quiet, gentle voice, glancing over at her with concern in his eyes.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You’re disappointed.”
“Really, it is okay. Let’s just go back to Wildcat Hall. I’m being silly about wanting to tackle something new and intriguing that could lead to even more interesting and exciting things. Now is not the time. You’re right.”
He groaned but didn’t say another word. He just headed his pickup toward Sure-Shot.
Chapter 22
“Thanks.” Fern leaned over, squeezed Craig’s shoulder, and then moved around in her seat until she was more comfortable. “Maybe I just needed to get away from all the pressure.”
“It’s been nonstop since you got back.”
“I hadn’t realized it’d built up. That must be why I jumped at the chance when MG offered a reason to get out of town that had nothing to do with work.”
“Makes sense.” He glanced over, as if evaluating her, then looked back at the road. “I also think you’d really like to find something we could use.”
“I know it’s an outside chance, but I want to know right now, not tomorrow or next week or next month. I feel this driving force to find another dance hall if one still exists.”
“I don’t want to disillusion you, but structures built of the old growth pine will decay in ten to sixty years.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“But we’re looking for hundred-year-old-plus buildings.”
“Those won’t be pine.”
“Why would anyone build with it?”
“Cheap. It’s probably all they could afford at the time. Plus, cow towns didn’t usually have long shelf lives, because the trails kept moving west. Quick and cheap was the order of the day, so tents and knocked-together pine buildings suited folks just fine.”
“That’s why you didn’t seem in any rush to get out here.”
“We could still get lucky. If we do, we’re looking at a building made of hardwood because that wood will last over two hundred years.”
“Hardwood?”
“Oak. Cherry. Hickory. Elm. That type of tree.”
“And it’s more expensive.”
“Yesterday and today, too.”
“Maybe it’ll be a log cabin, so they could’ve just cut down hardwood trees on the spot and built it cheap but good.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“We’re probably on a wild-goose chase.” She tapped the roll of papers on her knee thoughtfully.
“It could be unless we decide to make more of our afternoon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t I stop at the Easy In & Out. I need to fill up with gas before we hit the highway. You could pick up bottles of water, snacks.”
“Picnic! What a great idea.”
“It won’t be the same caliber as the Chuckwagon or the Bluebonnet, but we can make it fun. I have a couple of blankets and towels on the back seat. I always carry them in case of a grass fire that I need to knock out, but we can make good use of them for ourselves.”
“I love the idea.” She squeezed his shoulder again. “Thanks. I really needed to take this afternoon away from town.”
“And I needed this time with you.”
“Me, too…with you.”
She leaned back in the seat, content to watch him drive to the edge of town and pull up to a pump at the convenience, gas, and bait store.
He glanced over at her. “If you don’t want to move, I can pick up stuff inside.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “I want to be lazy, but not quite that lazy.”
“You don’t have a lazy bone in your body, but if you want to sit this one out, it’s okay with me.”
“Not on your life.” She grabbed her purse from the floorboard, opened the door, and cast a quick glance over her shoulder. “And this picnic is on me.”
He grinned. “I’d never argue with a woman on a mission.”
“Smart man.”
She quickly crossed the parking lot, hit the sidewalk near the entry, and walked past a freezer with bags of ice, a newspaper stand, and a live bait container. As the automatic doors slid open, she saw a notice announcing hunting and fishing licenses for sale. Once inside, the big open area looked a lot like most convenience stores with bright florescent overhead lights, back wall of refrigerated drinks, fresh coffee dispensers, and a center console for fast food and payment. It had everything a busy traveler could want to enhance their trip.
She made a quick stop in the bathroom, came out, and was on her way to the food dispenser when she saw a ball cap display. Cowboys tended to wear colorful caps when they weren’t wearing hats. And she could use something to keep the sun off her face. She quickly looked through the display, knowing Craig must be waiting on her by now.
Nothing…nothing…nothing suited until… She stopped with a pleased smile on her face. She plucked two matching red caps with black Old West type that read WILD WEST DAYS on the first line, then HELLIONS VS RUFFIANS SHOOT-OUT on the second line. The caps were a perfect way to promote the event.
She plopped one on top of the other and snugged them both down on her head. She picked up four bottles of water and headed for the food counter. She set the water on the counter in front of the cashier, then pointed to chicken strips, potato wedges, okra pieces, and two fried apple pies. When they were selected and wrapped up, she paid for the food and the caps, picked up the sacks, and headed outside.
She saw Craig right away, since he’d pulled up in front. He leaned casually back against the passenger door, one ankle casually crossed over the other, looking like a hunk and a half, with his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. All cowboy. All man. All hers.
A little half smile on his lips let her know he was watching her watching him…and liking it.
She walked right up to him, holding the sacks against her chest, with a smile on her face that said it all. She wanted him right then and there, in the parking lot of the Easy In & Out. And he knew it.
“What’ve you got for me?”
“What do you want?”
“There’s only one thing that’ll satisfy me.” And he looked her up and down with enough heat in his gaze to turn the asphalt beneath their feet into soft, sticky goo.
She felt that heat turn her insides into molten lava, but she rallied to get through the moment till they could be alone. “Will a new cap stave off your hunger?”
“No…but it’ll tide me over till we get to the good stuff.” He gave her a little bit more of a smile to let her know he knew she was changing the subject but he was letting her get away with it.
“They’re good promotion, and they’ll keep the sun off us.” She realized she was trying to sell the caps when they both obviously wanted something that had nothing to do with her purchases.
He plucked the caps off her head, then pulled out a knife, snapped it open, cut off the tags, and stuffed them with his knife back into the pocket of his jeans. He tugged a cap onto his head, covering up his thick hair, and then gently placed the other one on her.
“Do you like?” Now she wanted his approval for her choice, making her only too aware of just how far down the lane she’d gone in needing him.
“Yeah. They’re great. Thanks. But I like you best.” He lifted the sacks from her arms and set them on the floorboard of his truck. “Let’s get out of here.”
She was more than ready and quickly sat down in his pickup, inhaling leather, testosterone, and his unique scent. It was a heady combination…and she hoped the cap helped to hold in place what was left of her unraveling wits.
He pulled out and headed west on 82, a divided highway with a wide swatch of green grass between double lanes.
Inside the enclosed cab, she caught the rich aroma of fried food just begging to be eaten right away.
“Smells good.” He glanced down at the sacks, then back at the road. “It’ll get cold if we don’t eat it soon.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Let’s make this fun.” He pointed up ahead. “There’s still one of those little roadside parks left over from the fifties. I doubt anybody uses it much anymore, but the state maintains it anyway. Want to stop there?”
“Sounds like fun. And it goes perfectly with a picnic.”
“Okay. You got it. Doubt if we’ll get too much traffic going by there.”
Up ahead, she saw a curve off the road in front of a cement table with attached benches under the shading limbs of a
n old elm tree. A big drum rested in a container near it for trash. The old-time park looked to be an idyllic setting for a warm summer afternoon.
Craig pulled in front of the table and stopped the truck, shielding the area with the bulk of his pickup from the road. He turned to look at her with a smile. “You get the food. I’ll get the blankets and my guitar.”
“Always the music.” She returned his smile, knowing they never went anywhere without an instrument because you just never knew when inspiration might strike, particularly in a beautiful setting. Plus, life simply wouldn’t be natural or right without music.
When he got out of the truck and opened the door to the back seat, she picked up the sacks of food and stepped down to the packed dirt around the table of cement, pitted and scarred from years of use and weather. She brushed off a few dried leaves from the top, then arranged her sacks on the cleared area.
“Here you go.” He set his guitar in its case on top of the table, along with towels, before he draped blankets across the bench closest to the pasture.
“Thanks.” She spread out the towels to use as place mats, then opened the sacks and set food and water on top.
“It smells even better outdoors.”
“And I’m so hungry.” She sat down on the bench, opening the packets of napkins and plasticware before putting a set on his side.
He joined her, turning his cap around backward before he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “You were so right to get us out of town.”
“Just remember how right I can be in future.”
“If I don’t, I’m sure you’ll remind me.”
“No doubt.”
And those were their last words as they dug into the food, listening to a vehicle pass by now and then, but mostly enjoying a mockingbird’s medley in the treetop above as the pretty blue bird watched them to see if they might throw away something worth investigating to eat.
When they were almost done, Fern tossed several fries to one side and watched in delight as the bird flew down, grabbed a fry, and flew away with the prize.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to feed wild things? If you do, they’ll never leave.”