by Chloe Garner
“You wanna try again?”
The girl whimpered and Sarah shook her head.
“It ain’t any harder than that,” she said, nodding at the fence post again. “You point, you pull the trigger. If you can, hold the gun. If you miss, it’s a lot better if you get the second shot than if he does.”
Kayla nodded, holding her hand again. Sarah unholstered her own gun.
“Here,” she said, offering it to Kayla. Kayla winced away and Sarah shook her head.
“This here is a one-use gun,” she said, indicating the miniature one. “No one figures on usin’ it more than a couple times. This one, though,” she said, waving the larger gun slightly, “this is a workin’ gun. I been in more firefights than I can count with this piece, and it’s got a bigger kick you’ve gotta be ready for, but it ain’t gonna tear you up like yours.”
Kayla hesitantly took it.
“You’ve killed people with this?” she asked. Sarah nodded.
“Best if you not ask how many.”
Kayla bit at her lips for a moment, then slowly turned and raised the gun, closing one eye and sticking her tongue out. Sarah contained the sigh, taking a step further away. The gun went off and Kayla yelped again, but she managed to hold it. The fencepost jerked with a satisfying thud noise as the lead buried into it.
“Good girl,” Sarah said. “Now, come stand back with me, back here, and try it again.”
Four steps further away, a decent practicing distance, and Sarah showed Kayla how to hold the gun and how to sight it.
“No, no, you keep both eyes open. You never close one eye in a shootin’ situation, you got it? You need as much sight as you got. You just look though one eye.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Kayla whined quietly, trying anyway.
“Figure it out,” Sarah said. “And do it quick. I got places to be this morning.”
“Thought you said you were meeting Jimmy this afternoon,” she said, pulling the trigger. She missed, but by Sarah’s estimation it wasn’t by much.
“Little further right,” she said. “And try it with your damn tongue in your mouth this time. I ain’t only Jimmy’s girl. I got other stuff to do, too.”
The gun fired again, missing by more on the other side.
“Too far,” Sarah said.
“I thought you weren’t Jimmy’s girl at all,” Kayla said, pulling the trigger three times in quick succession.
Two hits.
“Not bad,” Sarah said, putting her hand out. Kayla surrendered the weapon and let Sarah put the small gun into her hands.
“It’s still loaded?” Kayla asked.
“One shot left,” Sarah answered. “I’ll show you how to unload it and clean it, in the kitchen, and I’ll give you some spare rounds.”
Kayla still held the gun with more reverence than Sarah thought was dignified, but she seemed less awed by it than she had been, and that was practice.
“You aren’t, are you?” Kayla asked as they walked back to the house.
“Ain’t what?” Sarah asked.
“Jimmy’s girl,” she said.
“No,” Sarah answered. “Ain’t now and ain’t never been.”
“Will you ever be?” Kayla asked.
“Ain’t likely,” Sarah said.
“Why not?” Kayla asked. “You two seem to be the only ones that the other one will tolerate.”
“I appreciate you bringin’ chocolate muffins to breakfast, but that ain’t gonna give you the right to ask questions like that,” Sarah said.
“Oh,” Kayla said. “Sorry. No, no, I know that. I do. It’s that there’s no one to talk to, up at the house. I love Wade, but he doesn’t care what the other women are doing, and the staff don’t like me...”
“Ain’t in the nature of staff to like anyone,” Sarah said. “Not on your side.”
“I loved the women who worked at our house growing up,” Kayla argued. “But these ones...”
Sarah remembered the housemaids who had lived at the Lawsons’ when she was a child.
“It’s the Lawsons,” she said. “They got a feel for the way of things, and bein’ friendly with the staff ain’t part of it.”
“Thomas is decent,” Kayla said, “but the rest of them act like they’re invisible.”
They were invisible, as far as the Lawsons were concerned, Sarah thought. She shrugged, going back to the pantry to get a cleaning kit pieced together.
“I just haven’t got anyone to talk to about anything. I’ve got all this fabric, but you can only make so many dresses for yourself before you start to feel silly. I just want to open my shop and start to meet the women who live here.”
Sarah wasn’t ready to hold out much hope for the success of that, either, but she didn’t want to kick Kayla while she was down, so again she held her tongue.
“Wade is a good man,” Kayla said. “And I love him. But he doesn’t care. Not about the things I care about.”
“Often men don’t,” Sarah said, sitting down at the table again. Kayla was looking at her like she wanted - needed - advice, and Sarah couldn’t help remembering that she was probably only a few years older than Kayla was. She just had an awful lot more challenging years in that time.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Sarah said. “I can’t tell you what’s gonna work and what ain’t. I ain’t you. I ain’t got the same goals, or the same skills. All I can do is what I do, and it’s the same for you.”
Kayla pressed her lips.
“Well, if you ever want to talk. About anything. Really. I’m a good listener.”
Sarah tried not to give Kayla the condescending look she felt, turning away to dig out the cleaning kit and showing her how to use it.
“Since you ain’t gonna be using this gun very often, you gotta clean it every time you do, you understand? And you put it back together right. Else you’ll ruin it or, worse, hurt yourself tryin’ to use it.”
She made Kayla practice the assembly and disassembly process a half dozen times, then nodded.
“I need to be goin’ now,” she said. “I got families without barns and one without a whole house and they need seein’ to.”
“More than I do,” Kayla said wryly. “I’m sorry I unloaded on you. And for inviting myself over like this. I do have better manners.”
There was too much to do. Sarah sighed.
“Meet me in town tomorrow,” she said. “You find out when Jimmy’s gonna be at home, and you come then. We’ll see about your dress shop.”
Kayla brightened.
“Thank you, Sarah,” she said. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sarah shook her head as she got the rest of her things together, checking both of her handguns and her rifle for magazine and wear, then pulling on her duster and her hat. It took so little to make the woman happy, but she had the feeling that those little things that made Kayla smile would forever be a long way down the list of things that Jimmy or Wade were likely to get done.
Trying to ignore the promise she’d made, Sarah found the black horse grazing at the front of the yard and watching after the little mare pulling Kayla’s buckboard.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Sarah said. “She’s too good for you.”
The horse whuffed her hands, looking for oats or better, then stood patiently while Sarah mounted. Long day. Things to do. Same as always.
––—
She made it to the train station late, after its scheduled arrival, but the lack of a crowd of bewildered young men as she got close confirmed that the train had not yet gotten to Lawrence.
She left the black horse loose near where Jimmy’s dark bay was tied, making her way up onto the platform where Jimmy was sitting in her rocking chair, just waiting.
She had to admit, the team had done an admirable job clearing the rails as far as she could see. There was a pile of red sand on either side of the tracks, like a second set of rails, that stretched to the horizon.
“Train running late?”
she asked innocently.
“Just wait,” he said. She went to lean against the wall.
“Busy day?” she asked.
“They all are,” he answered. “You?”
“About the same.”
He nodded, and that was that. He rocked. She leaned.
There was no sound.
She was just about ready to give up and go get the horse again when she heard the whistle. She went to stand on the edge of the platform, staring at the horizon. Jimmy continued rocking.
“No way,” she said. “No way it makes it today.”
“Just wait,” he said again.
Three minutes later, the train came into view. She stepped back, watching it come down the final stretch of rail and halt at the platform, trying not to show her disbelief. Jimmy didn’t stand as the flock of young men unloaded and the working men started to take things off of the cargo cars. He went to look at the packages they were unloading, pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket and comparing it to the numbers on the boxes.
“What are they?” Sarah asked.
“Just wait,” he said absently. She could have kicked him, but she just stood, trying not to let her temper show. And then:
“Jimmy?”
It was a woman’s voice, the light melodic one that matched, yes, exactly to her petite, adorable frame. Jimmy stood and went to hug the woman.
“Rhoda, I want you to meet Sarah. Sarah, this is Rhoda.”
“Okay,” Sarah said, shaking the woman’s hand only after Rhoda offered. The woman turned back to Jimmy.
“It’s good to see you,” Rhoda said.
“I’m glad you came,” Jimmy answered. “You have bags?”
Sarah hoped like hell the increasing stack of boxes didn’t belong to the tiny woman. She turned and motioned with her arm. Luggage that matched her traveling cape. That figured.
“I was expecting...” Rhoda said.
“We’ll get you home and settled, and then we can talk,” Jimmy said, kissing her cheek. This stung Sarah like a physical blow.
“What?” Rhoda said. “Oh. Okay.” She turned to Sarah. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“You have?” Sarah asked at the same time that Jimmy straightened. Rhoda’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Jimmy.
“Yes. Thomas actually told me all about you. I wasn’t sure how quickly I’d get to meet you. I’m glad you’re here today.”
“Thomas told you,” Jimmy said.
“All about her,” Rhoda finished, feline purr under her voice. Jimmy straightened his collar and went back to checking boxes, just long enough to prove that that had been what he intended to finish before he stood again.
“Everything looks like it’s here. I’ll need to come back and get it all later, with your luggage. Do you mind riding behind me to get home, or should I send someone for a cart?”
“I’m happy to ride with you,” she said, giving Sarah another feline smile. “I’m so glad we met. Will you be around at the house at all?”
“She’s there all the time,” Jimmy said. “I’m sure you’ll run into her again soon.”
“Like he says,” Sarah agreed, feeling at a loss.
The woman was beautiful, but not in the elegant, cool way that Lise was. She was tiny and perfect, put together in a pleasing way with a pleasing voice and what appeared to be a pleasant personality.
Sarah just couldn’t compete with that.
They headed for the edge of the platform and the stairs, and Sarah frowned.
“Hey, now,” she said. “You called me here just to watch you check an invoice?”
“Oh,” Jimmy said, indicating dismissively with his hand as he escorted Rhoda down the stairs. “Those are the lodgings for the investors. We need to get the men organized to get them put up, but that’s our next project.”
“These,” she said.
“State of the art,” Jimmy said, almost out of sight. “Cost a fortune, but worth it.”
And then he was gone, talking quietly with Rhoda as they figured out how to get her onto the horse. Sarah came to watch as Jimmy showed Rhoda how to put her foot in his hands for a leg up. She was wearing a petite, fitted red-and-black dress, and she landed side-saddle like she’d been born to it. Jimmy got up onto the horse behind her and they were off. Sarah watched, empty.
No thought. No emotion. No reaction.
She went to look at the boxes again, noting the brand logo on them but not recognizing it, then, devoid of purpose, wandered back to the black horse and took him home.
She sat at her kitchen table, sand still gritting under her boots as she shifted them under her, and stared at a wall for a bit, then went and got the bottle of amber liquor she kept hidden up high in a cabinet, pouring it into her cup instead of tea and sitting and drinking that until she was adequately numb to go to bed.
––—
The next morning, she woke up with an understanding that nothing had happened yesterday.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed, nothing had happened.
Jimmy had ditched her at the train station, and he’d catch hell for it, but that was it.
She had an appointment with Kayla to keep, and things to do in town until the woman showed up. She was a busy woman, and she didn’t have time for Jimmy’s shenanigans to get in the way of that. With any luck, the men would be back today and she could start peeling off work teams to go raise barns and get things done that actually needed to get done.
None of this foolishness about taking the entire working population of the town and going to dig out the railway. The people here needed to get crops in the ground, needed to shelter their animals, needed life to go on. And she was going to make that happen, come hell or high water, or both.
She tacked the black horse and went into town, pleased to see that the sand was beginning to dry and shift. It would be gone in another day or so. Less pleasing was that the hobflowers were beginning to come up.
Getting the sand out was going to be hard enough. She was in no mood to deal with hobflowers.
She checked on Granger first, but he seemed to be in good spirits. His shop was spotless.
“I found a boy,” he said. “A real teenager, actually. He cleans like there ain’t nothin’ else in the world to do.”
“Glad to hear it,” Sarah said. Granger nodded, wiping down the counter.
“I let him sleep here last night. You got any news on more permanent lodgings for them?”
“No, but if he’s got money in his pocket from a job, he’ll be one of the first in line,” Sarah said, and Granger nodded.
“Ain’t had a boy working here since Peter Lawson died.”
“I think I remember,” Sarah answered. “You need anything?”
“Don’t think so, but I’ll let you know if I do.”
Sarah nodded, then went across the street.
The missing buildings were like a block of missing teeth from the main street. She’d have to put rebuilding those shops on the list. If nothing else, they could put apartments above them that would get some of the men out of the shantytown that was in its very beginning, formative stages again. The amount of random scrap wood around was high, but getting it anywhere was hard, for now. It would accumulate and the men would find ways to shelter themselves. Desperation drove that sort of behavior.
They needed wood. She went back into Granger’s.
“You putting in regular orders out of Jeremiah?” she asked.
“I am,” he answered.
“Add a passel of lumber to that,” she said. “You know what folks typically need. We got a bunch of barns down and I aim to rebuild the rest of Main Street, even if we ain’t got folk to move in yet.”
“I’ve got some. Been tryin’ to figure how to pick who gets it. More on the way, like you said. I’ll get more added to my next order, too. Gonna take a lot of it to get the new homes built.”
New homes. What a strange idea. Sarah nodded.
“Thanks.”
She
went back out and headed to the dress shop, putting her shoulder to the door to force it open against the corrosion of disuse more than any lock that might have been there. The room was full of bottles and the smell of sick. Underneath that was the desiccated scent of dead varmints and dust. There had probably been a dozen or more men in here, riding out the sandstorm. It was going to take a serious effort to get it clean enough for Sarah to even imagine Kayla setting foot in here.
“Well, they trashed it, didn’t they?” Kayla asked. Sarah spun.
“Didn’t hear you,” she said.
“I’m getting the hang of that cart,” Kayla said. “The horse barely wanders back and forth on the road at all, anymore.”
Sarah shook her head at that, but didn’t give an opinion.
“The dummies are in good shape, it looks like,” Kayla said, going to some of the random clutter on the floor and beginning to pick it off of the dressmaker’s dummies laying against a wall and in a corner.
“They ain’t got electricity here,” Sarah said. “You can get a lamp or two from Granger.”
“Oh, I’ll just tell Jimmy I want a generator,” she said passively, standing up one of the dummies and walking around it. Sarah raised her eyebrows.
“You think he’s gonna bring electricity to Main Street, just like that?”
“Why not?” Kayla asked, pulling pins out of the mannequin and sticking them in her mouth. Sarah thought that even she wouldn’t have put something from this shop into her mouth, but it didn’t appear that Kayla was thinking about it.
“Yes, this will do well,” Kayla said around the pins. “Will you help me with this one?”
She went to pull a stack of lumber off of another dummy, and Sarah lifted it so that Kayla could edge the dummy out from under it and go to stand it up in the front window.
“I’ll get some nice fabric on these, and the women won’t be able to stay away,” she said.
“You’ll have to get the place cleaned out, first,” Sarah said.
“Oh, and carpeted and draped, too,” Kayla said. “It’s going to be beautiful.”
She stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her ribs, spinning slowly with a distant look in her eyes.
“I think I’ll use yellow fabric on the walls,” she said. “It’s much nicer than paint. Gives you a soft feel to the sound, you know?”