by Carol Henry
Who was to stop him?
****
Seth hadn’t counted on the weather. Rain poured down in buckets the next day, and the two days following. The creek beds rose to flooding, and the road down off the hill washed out. When he and Timothy checked the crops in the fields, Seth stood and shook his head.
“Unless this rain stops soon, we’re going to lose the buckwheat.”
“How can we stop mud from sliding down the south slope into the potato field below?”
“I don’t know, Tim.” Seth brushed the hair off his forehead and sighed. The two new crops he’d planted earlier in the year were a wash out. He figured the rain had just cost him two acres of buckwheat alone and about another of potatoes.
“Can’t you replant?”
“Only if the rain lets up soon. I’ll see if I can get more seed from the mill. See if someone over in Richford has any potatoes I can buy.”
“At least you have the herd of goats.”
“Yes. We’ll be okay. But I’d hoped this would be a success.”
His herd of goats was producing milk like the rain falling from the skies. Even if he wasn’t money ahead from the crops, the farm had no debts owing at the moment, thanks to his tin-eaters.
However, once the bad luck started, nothing went right. Michael slipped in the mud and broke his arm the day after the rains let up. The eggs he’d been carrying from the hen house broke right along with his arm. With no eggs in the kitchen, Mrs. Flanagan had to use her imagination to create meals for the day.
But the real problem involved getting Michael down the washed-out road to Doc Wooster’s to have his arm set. Catherine and Mrs. Flanagan wrapped a towel around his arm to keep it from swinging on the trip to town. Catherine rode along to help out and remembered at the last minute to take some of Mrs. Flanagan’s handmade lace.
Maneuvering down the dirt road was a slow process as Seth steered the horses through the muddy ruts, which had only gotten deeper with the flooding. The ride was bumpy to say the least. Several times the wagon skidded toward the steep bank on the right. Seth reigned in the horses just in time to keep them from going over the drop-off into the creek fifty feet below. The back wheel broke loose, and Seth had to get out in the mud to fix it before they finally turned onto the turnpike and were heading toward Candor. The Ithaca and Owego Turnpike trail, however, was just as muddy and washed out from all the rain. The going was slow. At least there were no hills to speak of, and they moved ahead at a steady pace.
By the time they got to Candor, Michael’s staunch pride dissolved as he writhed in pain. Doc Wooster was in and able to care for Michael immediately.
“I’ll give him a dram of laudanum for the pain. Just enough to ease the discomfort while I set his arm. He’s too young for more.”
Doc Wooster administered the vile tasting liquid. Michael made a face but was in too much pain to fuss.
“Help me get him up on the table, and we’ll lay him down.”
The table was a large wooden affair that had seen many medical procedures in its time. The room he was taken to was tidy, clean, and smelled of lemon oil, antiseptic, and kerosene.
“Miss Carmichael, if you will just hold young Michael’s good arm. Seth, you might want to hold his shoulders down while I set this.”
Michael didn’t even blink as Doc Wooster undid the towel and straightened out the arm. Within a matter of minutes, the arm was splinted and wrapped, then tucked tight against his rib cage to help keep it in place.
“Let him stay here and rest for a bit. I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he’s not in more pain when the laudanum leaves his system. I’d say two to three hours.”
Seth and Catherine walked on down the street and dropped off Mrs. Flanagan’s lace at Mrs. Wentworth’s store.
“Such wonderful lace. My dear, of course I’ll purchase some for the store. You tell Mrs. Flanagan to send more.”
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased when I tell her,” Catherine said.
Saying goodbye, Seth followed Catherine out of the shop.
“How about we stop at the Candor Creek Inn for a bite to eat?” Catherine suggested. “It’s all the rave these days.”
“I’ve never had the opportunity to stop in.”
“Then let’s go.”
Walking into the Candor Creek Inn was like walking into a large kitchen, only there were many more tables and chairs. The tables were large, round and sat ten, easily. Instead of white pristine tablecloths, a round revolving tray on a small spindle held an assortment of condiments in the middle of each table. Simple curtains hung in the windows, and the waitresses wore plain white smocks over their dresses. The Inn was a no-frills establishment where the young people gathered to socialize. The smell of pan-fried food filled the room, along with the noisy crowd.
Catherine led Seth past several tables surrounded by people Seth didn’t know. “There’s an empty table in the corner. Let’s sit over there,” she said. “I want to try one of those fried beef sandwiches. They smell delicious, don’t you think so?”
“Yes. I’ll have one as well.” Seth sat and glanced around the room. “Where did all these people come from?”
“You really need to get off the hill more, meet people your own age.”
“I do get off the farm. And I do meet people.”
“Just those old men on your agriculture committee.”
“It’s an important committee if you’re a farmer, Catherine.”
“I suppose. Oh, look. Anna Louise is over there in the corner with her friends from the Women’s Christian Temperance Union.”
Seth’s head shot around. Sure enough. Anna Louise sat across the room with a group of young ladies, their heads all bobbed together toward the center of the table, real intent on something. As usual, Anna Louise was a sight. She was all smiles. She simply glowed.
“Go over and say hello, for heaven’s sake,” Catherine nudged. “She won’t bite.”
“She’s busy with her friends. I don’t want to disturb her.” Seth wanted desperately to talk to her, but not while she was with her friends.
Catherine caught their eyes and waved a hello in their direction. “Don’t be rude, Seth. Smile and wave.”
Seth gave what he considered a friendly smile and attempted a wave. He nodded, then listened as the ladies tittered while they outright stared at him. Embarrassed, he glared at them in an effort to show his displeasure. They turned back to their own business as if he was invisible.
All except Anna Louise.
She still looked his way.
Anna Louise smiled.
Heat radiated up Seth’s neck as if he had a fever.
Seth took hope once again.
Chapter Twelve
“You just walk right between us, Ma’am. We’ll see you come to no harm,” Violet said.
Emily walked beside the two sisters the last half mile into town. A collective sigh of relief washed over the bedraggled group as sounds of the pounding of metal on metal from the local blacksmith hammering away carried over the humid afternoon heat.
“Listen,” Pansy said. “That there hammering is music to my ears.”
Several small shack-like buildings appeared on the horizon. Lined up on either side of a wide road big enough for two wagons to pass each other, hitching posts and water troughs stood ready at various intervals along the way. Entering the town limits, a lone rider and his horse trotted down the center of the town, kicking up a dust trail. Grains of sand flew at the small contingent, and everyone quickly covered their faces ’til the dust swirls settled.
Emily looked around and sighed. Silver Springs didn’t look like much. No flower boxes rested under the windows like back home in Candor. No bushes or trees planted next to the buildings or lining the streets. If there was an establishment where one could have a meal, get a good night’s sleep for the entire contingent, Emily doubted one could be found in this lone town.
“Now, my dear, don’t you become discouraged. This town
only looks deserted,” Pansy said, stoically. “Why, even if it’s naught but a ghost town, we’ll have it all to ourselves. They’ll be plenty of beds to go ’round, I’m sure.”
It resembled an old mining town gone bust Marybelle had written home about. A little one-horse town they were called, places where it proved impossible to grow anything in the hard compact soil, or had lacked the water needed to survive. Once the spring rains ceased, the hot summer drought settled in.
Tufts of dry weeds leaned up against several hitching posts. Two horses were tied in place outside a storefront. The window advertised they bought and sold gold. The streets were empty.
As they entered the town proper, Emily spotted what resembled a stable of sorts, and a barn. Both looked as if they had been put up in a hurry and would only need a slight gust of wind to blow them over. Neither would keep out the rain.
At the further end of the street stood a two-story building boasting the Bottoms Up Saloon. A balcony, painted moon-yellow, circled the upper floor. It was by far one of the best kept buildings in town. Emily considered any fool without an education could tell what the place was about.
The tall, thin-hipped man wearing a Stetson rode up to greet them. The badge on his vest indicated he was the local sheriff. A double holster hung low at his hips, and a Winchester in his left hand was slung over the horse in front of him. At first sight, he looked threatening, but at second glance Emily found him to be handsome. His blue eyes, although cautious, held a spark of warmth.
“Howdy, y’all. Who’s in charge?” He sat very still on his horse. His steady, guarded eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, his back ramrod straight. He took in each and every one of them, sizing them up. He spoke like a gentleman and tipped the brim of his hat back in acknowledgment at the bedraggled bunch.
Emily heard a soft sigh and turned to find Elizabeth Young, baby in arms, captivated by the local sheriff. A slight rosy flush crept up the young woman’s dirt-stained face. Emily smiled as Elizabeth’s mouth formed a stunned ‘O’. She wondered just how long ago Elizabeth Young’s husband had died.
One of the men from the train stepped forward and addressed the sheriff. The two proceeded to shake hands, and then separated everyone into small groups.
Emily, Elizabeth, her baby, Marian and her son, Jonathan, were ushered to one side, along with the two sisters and the woman who had complained about her sore feet.
“Doctor Shay’s place is over yonder,” the sheriff said. “As soon as I get the rest of you sorted out, I’ll escort you ladies there myself.”
Elizabeth’s expression hadn’t changed, except for a darker shade of rose staining her cheeks, her eyes never leaving the tall, handsome sheriff.
Mr. O’Leary and several of the other single gentlemen were herded off toward the yellow building.
“There’s plenty of rooms over yonder,” the sheriff said, pointing the way.
The trainmen and other employees of the railroad were sent to the livery and the blacksmith’s shops where they were assured they would be comfortable for their short stay.
“You’re all welcome at the Bottoms Up Saloon for a meal. The cooks will have everything ready in about an hour’s time.”
The sheriff gathered the small group of women together and motioned them forward. Elizabeth hadn’t taken her eyes off the sheriff, and the sheriff’s eyes kept coming back to rest on her, as well.
“Howdy, ladies. Son.” He tipped his hat. “The name’s Coulter. Levi Coulter. If you’ll follow me, I’ll see you get to the doc’s house. His wife is real friendly and will make you feel right at home. I see we have some who need tending. Ol’ Doc’ll fix you up real fine when he returns.”
No one spoke as they followed Sheriff Levi Coulter like metal to a magnet, afraid to be left behind. As if sensing their trepidation, he turned and confronted them.
“Now, don’t worry none ’bout those Injuns. They might steal a bit of paraphernalia now and again, but they don’t hurt no one in these parts. Ol’ Red Eye and I are acquainted and have great respect for one another. You’re all safe here in Silver Springs. Matter a’fact, Red Eye’s sure to be in town tomorrow to sell some of his buffalo hides to send back east to New York. Fox and wolf pelts, too. They’re worth a tidy sum. Don’t you fret none, though, ol’ Red Eye does his trading behind the livery pretty early in the morning so he don’t scare no one. You won’t even know he’s been ’round.”
Emily shivered to think they had traveled by foot all this way to escape the Indians, and here they were trading in the same town they had just retreated to for safety. Was this trip never going to stop surprising her? Had they gone through all this trouble walking through the desert for nothing?
“Here we are now,” the sheriff said as they drew up to a large sturdy-looking home. A small porch with railings painted white to match the house circled the front and one side. “The doc and his wife will take care of you while you’re in town. It’ll be a couple of days before the train comes this way and can take you on to San Francisco.”
The handsome Sheriff Coulter helped everyone up onto the front porch. He held Elizabeth’s hand just a trifle longer than necessary. His arm circled her waist. She pulled her baby close, while her appreciative smile could have burned down the town. The sheriff didn’t seem to notice the dirt-streaked face of the young, slim woman as he looked down into her eyes. Elizabeth didn’t seem to remember or care that her face was a sight.
Emily smiled and waited outside while she gave a listen to their conversation.
“I hope your husband won’t be too worried when you don’t show up in San Francisco as planned,” Sheriff Coulter said. “Out here all alone with a baby to look after won’t be easy for a young lady like yourself. You can telegraph him after you clean up and rest a bit. Old man Lester, who runs the telegraph office, will be there later today. If you like, Ma’am, I can drop by later and escort you to the telegraph office so’s you can get one sent off to him.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth waved his offer aside. “But no one will be meeting me in San Francisco. I’m a widow. I’m traveling on my own. But I do appreciate your concern.”
“How brave of you to travel all this distance by yourself,” Sheriff Coulter said, hat in hand.
From the corner of her eye, Emily could see his keen interest in the news. She had come to care for the young mother and her baby and was concerned with the immediate attraction between the two. How would she feel if this was her Catherine? She would do much more than eavesdrop. More than likely, she would intervene immediately.
Thinking of Catherine made her think once again of her family. For a short moment, her own trials and tribulations were forgotten. Lord, she was worn-out. She wanted a drink of water and a place to lie down and sleep. A bath would be nice, too. Even a bucket of rainwater would be welcome. Anything to rinse the desert dust away.
This wasn’t at all what she had expected when she left Candor. How could she write home with this kind of news? It would upset Charles. He had enough on his mind with the strike. She would have to be careful what she telegraphed back when she did arrive at Marybelle’s.
The doctor’s wife opened the door to greet them. She was a short portly woman, her gray hair knotted at the nape and held back with long black straight hairpins. She was dressed with a simple crisp white, full apron covering her brown gingham dress and her ample chest.
“Come, come. Sit,” Mrs. Shay coaxed. “I’ve rooms at the ready. Never know when my husband will need to keep people over while he’s tending them.” The woman scurried around the sitting room, helping everyone find a seat.
“I’m sorry Horace isn’t here right now. He’s tending a family up in the hills yonder. The Missus Foster is having a baby. Might be a couple days ’til he comes back down. Babies come when they have a mind, don’t you know. I’ll make you all real comfy until he returns. How’s about I make us all a nice cup of tea?”
“I’ll be going now,” Sheriff Coulter said after he helped set
tle Mrs. Aderley and her son in one of the larger rooms closest to the parlor. “I need to make sure everyone else has found accommodations.” He slapped his hat on his head and let himself out. His dusty boots hit the wooden steps, then silence.
Emily joined the others in the front room where Mrs. Shay set a tray of tea and sandwiches on a small table covered with a dainty stark-white starched scarf. An easy silence filled the room while everyone ate as if they hadn’t seen a meal in months.
They were just finishing up their tea when the sheriff knocked on the door and entered. Elizabeth jumped to her feet, then sat back down, hiding her crimson face in her empty tea cup. He cleared his throat and looked down at his hat, once again dangling in his hands.
“Thought I’d stop by to make sure you ladies are all settled.” He turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll stop back a bit later to escort you over to the Bottoms Up for an evening meal. My deputy will be taking care of the others.”
He hung back, then with an easy smile nodded, turned, and fled.
“What a handsome young man,” Pansy said when the door shut behind the sheriff. “Why, he must be all of six feet tall without his hat. Now, if I was a might bit younger...”
“Oh, give it up, Pansy,” Violet interjected. “The sheriff would never look your way what with Miss Elizabeth sitting right here.”
“There you are, my dear.” Mrs. Shay entered the room, interrupting the conversation.” I have just the room for you and your babe. Come along, Mrs. Young, and we’ll get you and that sweet thing settled. Mrs. Carmichael, I can show you to your room now, as well.”
Elizabeth and her baby were put in a room farther down the hall where the baby’s crying wouldn’t disturb the Aderleys. Emily’s room, although sparse, was adequate and very welcome compared to her sleeping arrangements on the train. Mrs. Shay led the sisters to their room next door. Each of them was provided wash cloths, towels, soap, and a pitcher of water. They were also provided with a clean, starched robe and instructions to hand over their dirty clothes for cleaning.