by Anna Murray
He grinned, eyes filled with triumph in this small victory, and he instantly decided that one more kiss wouldn't stampede the whole herd. In fact he was sure could stop after just one more, in spite of her shaking like a leaf in the wind.
But just as Cal was lowering his lips to drink more of his sweet Sarah, a shout rang out.
It was Roy. He was yelling for Cal. And he sounded mad. Bull-snorting-fire mad.
"Damn!" The spell was broken. "This had better be good," he blurted.
Sarah felt the hollow feeling of abrupt detachment when Cal reluctantly pushed away.
"Stay here." He lifted her hand and kissed it before he darted out the door.
Sarah sighed, straightened her dress and smoothed her hair. She didn't stay. Instead she walked back to the kitchen to find Ned with Emily and Mama. Ned jumped as soon as he saw her, anxious to get out the back door and find out what was causing -- as he described it -- "as much commotion as a jackass in a tin can."
* * *
The pine-slatted crate was coated with dried blood. Flies swarmed thick and black around it.
Cal met Roy, hands balled into fists at his sides, and standing a good fifteen yards away from the wooden box. Bailey and a cowhand stood alongside, storms brewing on their faces, just outside the corral.
An awful stench drifted from the box, which had "Eastons" sloppily written on the outside. As he edged closer Cal realized that the 'paint' was also dried blood.
"What is it?" Cal's gaze flashed curiously from the crate to Roy and back again.
Roy was taut with anger. "Dogged if I know! Smith found this crate an hour ago, when he was riding the north border. I met him dragging it back here. See for yourself." Roy stabbed his fist at the smelly box.
Cal approached the mysterious coffin. The smell of putrefying flesh forced him to retreat. He yanked the bandanna from his neck and wrapped it around his mouth to mute the odor. Advancing a second time, he peered inside. He paled and then flushed with anger. Therein were the rotting carcasses of four steers, heads severed, along with a hide showing their Mineral Creek brand. The remains looked to be a week or better old. Cal backed away and barked out angry curses.
Ned ambled up; his gray eyes darkened when he peered in at the carnage.
"Hell!" he choked, covering his mouth.
Cal motioned raggedly. "Get rid of it." He turned back to Roy and Ned, and the men strode away from the wonton butchery. They stopped when the smell abated and lowered their bandannas.
"A threat from Dullen?"
Roy nodded. "I figure he was behind the rustling. I got three messages from our inside man. We oughtta hear more from the two we got working in town. He's trying to run us off." Roy wiped his sleeve across his brow. He put his hands on his hips and watched as three men attached ropes to drag the crate.
Frustration burned. "Dullen's a bastard enemy," said Cal, "and even if we could prove it, mighty scarce help would come from back-stabbin' Aiken."
"The hell with the law. We're our own lookouts." Roy seethed. He pulled at his hat. Gray clouds moving in from the west matched their moods.
Cal grunted and kicked at the dirt. Between the ranch war with Dullen and Sarah's predicament he was beginning to feel like a man trying to herd a thousand beefs to hell through a three-day blizzard.
* * *
The next day the clouds opened up. Ranch hands slogged about their chores, donned in dusters, hats pulled low against the lashing. Inhaling the smell of cool, earthy summer rain, Sarah and Emily ran out into the yard and set out buckets and pots to fill. Water from the sky, Sarah believed, was better for washing than any to be had from the pump or creek.
A bolt of lightning streaked from the clouds to the ground. Thunder rattled the ranch house windows. Emily shrieked. They ran faster, just catching themselves as they slipped up the steps and slid across the porch. The girls scampered past the washstand, grabbing towels from the stack as they flew by.
They were drying themselves in front of the stove, sipping warm milk, when Cal and Roy and Ned came to get coffee. Mama was the only dry person left on the spread.
"You two looked like a couple of spring colts slopping in that gullywasher," Ned mused. They were all looking at Sarah, and she noted curiously that they quickly averted their eyes as she looked directly at each man. Roy cleared his throat.
Sarah, bewildered, looked down at herself. Her wet skirt and petticoat were clinging to her legs. Her eyes continued upward. She flushed crimson, realizing that her bodice and camisole were stubbornly fixed to her breasts, revealing every curve, including the cold stiffened tips. Cal took a duster from the back of a chair, and held it out to her.
"Er, you look cold." He cast his eyes discretely downward. Mortified, Sarah slipped on the oversized coat and wrapped it snugly around her.
Thankfully the men went back to being preoccupied, and as grim as the weather.
Cal's chair creaked as he leaned forward. "Roy and I'd be pleased to step out with you ladies on Friday evening. There's gonna be a social to meet the new schoolteacher. Everybody brings food, and we can dance." He smiled expectantly at Sarah.
Emily was already flushed with excitement. "Oh! We've never been to a social! Will you dance with me? Will all the handsome men dance with Sarah?"
Roy and Ned laughed but Cal didn't think it quite as funny. When he'd imagined Sarah dancing she had just one partner.
Roy quipped, "Well, sure, but only if Cal don't hobble 'em. And you bet we'll dance with you." Sarah flushed.
Then Emily blurted, "If there's a teacher, will I be able to go to school?"
Sarah flashed a stern look at her sister. She wasn't to be so brazen in her expectations. But Cal winked at her and drawled, "I expect so."
"Cloudburst is done," said Roy, who was peering out the window. "We'd best be getting back to work."
The men checked their weapons, excused themselves and went out he back door.
Sarah removed the coat, and the girls quietly turned back to the stove to finish drying. An invisible arrow pierced her heart.
"Oh Emily, we can't go. We don't have nice dresses."
Emily's face crumpled. "Why not just wear the ones we have?" she tried innocently. "I want to meet the schoolteacher."
But Sarah looked serious. "Everyone will be wearing fine party dresses," she soberly explained. "We don't have any suitable." Out of the corner of one eye she saw mama blinking. As was now her habit, Sarah picked up the pencil and paper on the table and began 'listening'.
Wear mine.
Sarah and Emily looked at each other. Even if she had pretty party dresses, would they fit? Mama read their thoughts and blinked again.
They can fit with some work. Try them.
The sisters traded a what-can-we-lose glance, and they wheeled Mama down to their shared room and opened the wardrobe. Mama helped them pick among her fancy dresses, approving with her 'yes' blink when they held the prettiest ones up for her inspection.
Emily and Sarah stripped down to their camisoles and drawers. They fumbled with buttons and laces, giggling and whirling about the room. Each piece was judged for color, fabric, fit, and, in Emily's case, skirt fullness when she spun around on one heel.
Sarah liked the light green floral print, but Mama insisted that she take the lavender gingham with lace at the collar and sleeves, and tiny buttons up the back. The color complemented Sarah's hair and eyes, and it would fit perfectly after she took it in. Mama's eyes filled with memories, and she blinked to recount how she'd made it after Cal was born, to wear to church.
Emily swam in the dresses, but then they discovered a lovely blue skirt with a waistband which could be taken in, and of course it had to be shortened. Sarah pulled a beautiful blue silk shawl from the bottom of a drawer. They decided Em could wear the skirt and cover her blouse with the shawl.
"Thank you, Mama! Won't Cal and Roy be surprised to see us dressed so fine?" Joy bubbled in Sarah's laugh and shone in her green eyes. Her heart overflowed when sh
e saw Emily hug and kiss Mrs. Easton. Her sister had never known a real mother.
"We want you to come, too, Mama." Emily looked wistfully at the woman confined to her chair. Fleeting sadness ran across her brow.
I've been to plenty myself. You go and tell me all about it.
Emily's grin was back. "You bet we will! We'll tell you absolutely everything! It will be just as if you were there." She'd taken Mama to her heart just as quickly as she'd attached herself to Roy.
I love you, daughters.
Both girls shouted in unison. "Mama, we love you, too!" Tears shone in their eyes.
Sarah was emboldened by newly awakened hope, and in that moment she decided to live each day fully during her time at the Eastons.
Chapter 22
Busy August days passed ahead of the social. Cal and Roy worked the round up with Bailey and the hands, cutting cattle, road branding those that would take the five-day drive north to the Missouri. At the river they'd load the cattle onto corral steamboats for shipment to two destinations downriver, the first of which was the trading post at the Fort Peck Indian Agency. Cal explained to Sarah that any unmarked stray the cowboys happened upon along the drive were fair pickings, and they'd be branded and added to the herd. Strays were common, said Cal, at the least they'd find Mineral Creek brand strays, lost on previous drives.
The Mineral Creek herd could then travel far down the river on the boats.
Sarah and Emily altered their dresses when they weren't busy cooking or caring for Mama. And more men were hired on. A couple new men looked more like gunslingers than cowpunchers. Rough-around-the-edges, they had to be reminded to curb their tongues around ladies.
If Cal and Roy weren't in the saddle on the range, they were in town. They never left without rifles and gun belts shucked with six-shooters hanging low on hips. Sarah was glad to be occupied inside the house because Ned scowled every time she and Emily walked out the door, and heaven help them if they went past the barn. It was as though Ned had built an invisible fence, and all heck would break loose if they tried to cross it.
The day before the social five bundles wrapped in brown paper magically appeared on the kitchen table. Cal came in after morning chores, and Sarah asked him what she should do with them.
"For you and Emily," he growled tersely, flushing from neck to hairline.
"What are they?" She locked her hands together and stared at the packages.
"Uh, nothing much. Stuff you and Emily might need." He waved a hand in the air. "Seeing as you work for us, we ought provide you necessaries." Then he gave a quick nod and backed away, toward the door.
Sarah stepped up to the table, reached across to the top package, and carefully tore the paper. She unfolded linen and lace. A pair of drawers were revealed, rather fancy ones at that. Now it was her turn to blush. She opened another package. Inside were camisoles and new nightgowns, small ones for Emily and larger articles for her. The next package held fabric, even some delaine, a wool cloth from which the best dresses could be made, and needles and thread and buttons. Another package held bars of honeysuckle-scented soap.
Sarah's eyes were wide, her hands shaking, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Cal must have noticed she had only two dresses, but she'd planned to spend her first month's pay on such things. An employer wasn't obliged to take care of such basic needs, and certainly not so abundantly, she thought.
"Thank you," she whispered. Sarah turned her eyes away from his. "Well, we did need a few things," she muttered. Then Sarah looked straight into his dark eyes. "Please take it from our pay."
Cal was carefully watching her, framed in the doorway, half-ready to jump outside. Now, oddly, Cal looked to be as overwhelmed as Sarah.
"You can thank Mama," he bit off hoarsely.
Indeed, Mama was the one who'd noted the appalling condition of their underclothes, and the woman had wasted no time complaining to Cal about it. Her blinked reprimand had chafed him raw as a leather blister. As if he would have inspected their underclothes! And he knew Sarah would fight him if he tried to take them to town to buy necessities. In the end he settled on hiring a very surprised and amused saloon girl over at the Copper Strike to make the purchases. But he'd selected the dress fabric himself over at Watkins.
"Mama!" she laughed. "Oh, of course." So Cal had marched to orders from the highest command. She giggled inwardly as she pictured Cal purchasing women's drawers. Maybe he'd sent Roy on that particular errand. "I'll be sure to thank her." Sarah smiled and colored prettily.
Cal escaped out the back door.
* * *
The next day was crazy. It seemed all of Mineral Creek Ranch was going to the social. After all, chances for bachelor cowboys to mingle with young daughters of merchants and ranchers weren't common. Sarah and Emily cooked to cover for all the men attending from the ranch. Sara baked five cakes and a small mountain of biscuits, but Ned looked at it and said it wasn't enough. Sarah was ready to throw up her hands when he reminded her they had a chuck wagon cook. The man turned out to be a miracle worker, churning out beef-filled biscuits, fancy enough for the womenfolk and hearty enough for hungry cowboys.
The kitchen chores done, the girls hurriedly made last minute fixes to their dresses. They washed and brushed their hair a thousand strokes, all while discussing ways to style it, settling on elegant French braids. Sarah tucked the silver combs in place at the nape of her neck.
Beaming, they pulled on the new drawers and camisoles. Emily worked the buttons on the back of Sarah's dress, and Sarah fastened Emily's shawl with a pretty brooch.
When Sarah stepped out of the room Cal caught a glimpse of her in the downstairs hall and beamed.
"You're beautiful." His dark eyes penetrated the length of her. He remembered his mother wearing the lavender dress years past, when he was just a boy, but of course he'd been too young to appreciate womanly curves.
"Don't look so bad yourself." Sarah admired back at wavy dark hair touching his best shirt collar.
Cal offered his arm. Sarah shyly moved her hand to the inside of his elbow. Roy pulled up in a livery-rented carriage as Cal guided her out the door. He put his arms around her slim waist he lifted her into the buggy. Next he turned to help Emily, who'd fluttered out like a butterfly and hovered behind them. Mama and Nettie waved and blinked goodbyes from the porch.
The carriage was joined by two more wagons loaded with men and food, and behind rode a string of cow hands, magically transformed from bare rough cowhides into young gentlemen, newly shaved and wearing clean clothes. They were barely recognizable, and even Cal and Roy had to look twice to put names to scrubbed faces.
The town was a larger parade of buggies and wagons and riders. Others came on foot, and what a wonderful sight they made, all dressed in finery, all strolling to the social.
Cal helped the women climb down at the hall. The men hoisted food from the wagons and carried it inside where women arranged it on long tables. Townfolk patiently waited their turn to be introduced to a spinster woman with black hair pulled severely into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Sarah's gaze swept around and lit upon Mr. Jack Dullen. Frowning, she turned back to the door, where people were flowing in and laughing.
They steered to the end of the teacher receiving line. Edward Watkins and his sister Eve were standing just ahead. Ned ambled over to join the party, and Sarah mentioned how handsome he was all dressed up. She'd never tried to guess Ned's age, but right now he didn't look but a few years past thirty. Baldness had a way of advancing a man, she supposed.
Meanwhile men who rode for the Mineral Creek took up positions around the room. A pair stood outside the door, lazily rolling cigarettes as they watched the town assemble. Others stood in corners talking and smiling.
When it was the Easton's turn to meet the buttercup-skirted teacher the acting school committee chairman, Jake Farrel, made the introductions.
"Miss Grayson, this is Cal Easton and Roy Easton. They own the Mineral Creek Ranch.
And this is Miss Sarah Anders and her young sister, Emily." Jake wiped his brow.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Miss Grayson shook hands with each. Her jaw dropped slightly at the sight of Ned. And Ned looked at the schoolmarm as if he was seeing an angel fallen from the sky.
Farrell gawked at the blushing glow creeping up the spinster teacher's cheeks and caught himself. "Oh, and this is Mr. Ned Kingman," he added. "He works at the Easton's place."
Ned puffed up and took her small hand, gently enclosing it in his own large one.
Roy, Cal, and Sarah had never seen Ned so obviously smitten. And the woman was most definitely on the shelf, why she must have been at least thirty years old. Oh, she was nice enough, fine really. But something about the woman nagged and Sarah couldn't quite say what.
"Please, call me Geneva," Miss Grayson cooed. She hadn't released her hand from Ned's. "That's short for Genevieve. But nobody calls me that." Her cheeks took on a glow, and her voice ran smooth as silk.
Meanwhile Emily was impatiently hopping from one foot to the other, full skirt swishing. Just when Sarah was beginning to wonder if she needed to get her to the privvy, Emily decided to butt in. "Miss Grayson, I went to school in Illinois. I'm in the fifth reader. I had the best penmanship at my school with the most flourishes! And I never, ever got the hickory stick." Emily beamed, hoping she'd impressed the woman.
"Wonderful. I'll see you in my class then?" Miss Grayson replied, but she didn't take her eyes off Kingman.
Ned responded before Emily could open her mouth. "Oh, you will. I'll make sure Emily gets to learning every day. Why, she's just like a daughter to me. Of course I've never been married, so I don't have any young 'uns of my own," he ran on as he tried to make the most of the brief introduction.