by Sharon Sala
It had come to the attention of the powers that be in the Union army, that one of the largest depositors in Mylam’s Philadelphia bank was also the largest depositor in a Boston bank, as well as one in New York City. It was of no consequence to the war office that the depositor happened to be a woman. Seeing as how the country was at war, Mylam’s superiors decided to use him where he could best serve. Wars cost money. It seemed only fitting that one of the richest women in the country would want to donate to the war effort. The fact that she lived all the way out in the unsettled western territories was a little inconvenient. But Major Carson Mylam had been given a choice—pack his bags and head west, or saddle his horse and head south to join the battle.
He’d opted for the territories. By the time he finally reached Denver City, he’d convinced himself that it hadn’t been a cowardly choice. The hardships he’d endured were far beyond what his cultured life in Philadelphia had been like. He’d eaten food cooked over a campfire, ridden in stagecoaches that had been robbed, been rained on, narrowly missed being struck by lightning, and come face to face with unfriendly Indians. Had he been alone, he would have died on the spot. Being in the midst of travelers who’d been born and bred on the frontier had been guidance enough to keep him in one piece. After all of that, he expected the rest of his trip would be simple.
He presented himself at the Denver City bank with a letter of reference, and a request to meet with one Mrs. Leticia Potter, owner of the famous Potter mine. It came as a shock to learn that she’d shut them down, and when he learned that she’d been widowed only months earlier, and was now carrying her dead husband’s child, he was in a quandary. It seemed a bit hard-hearted to present a business proposition to a woman in mourning. Still, there was the war to consider—and in war time, everyone had to sacrifice.
He took a room at the hotel across the street from the bank, made arrangements to hire a horse and pay a visit to Mrs. Potter first thing in the morning. He didn’t know word had already reached Letty that a stranger was in town asking about her, or that Robert Lee was laying in wait.
***
In Philadelphia, Carson was accustomed to walking to work, or being driven to the bank in the family buggy during winter or inclement weather. Still, he certainly knew how to ride, and the horse he’d hired from the livery seemed amenable enough. The next morning, the owner of the livery pointed out the big house sitting on the mountain above Denver City, as well as the road leading to it. Carson mounted and rode off; aware of the fine figure he cut in the Union officer’s uniform.
However, the dark blue uniform with its bright gold buttons and braid would do nothing for Robert Lee’s attitude toward Letty’s visitor. He wouldn’t have cared if the man had been sporting wings and carrying a letter from God. Visitors had to go through him to get to her.
***
Letty had known since yesterday that a man from back East had come to Denver City to see her. She couldn’t help but remember that the last man she’d met from back East had died in her bed. Sadly, Eulis was no longer here to back her up, but considering the size of her belly and the formidable presence of the gunslinger camped out on the edge of her property, she wasn’t expecting problems.
***
Robert Lee had been up since before sunrise. His tent was roomy enough for him to stand up in should the need arise, but he rarely spent any time in it other than to sleep. He had a small table set up beneath a tree outside the tent where he kept a basin and a bucket of water. Every other day he shaved. Today would have been an off day, but since he’d heard about the man who’d come to find Letty, he hadn’t been able to rest easy, so he’d passed part of the time waiting by giving himself a shave.
His lack of trust in his fellow man had been magnified a thousand times by his feelings for her. Never in his life had he felt so helpless, yet been so driven to be near her. He kept remembering the day he’d first seen her. He’d walked all the way to the mine from Denver City. It had been one of the lowest points in his life—no horse—no money—and he couldn’t remember the last day he’d eaten a meal. He’d been so sick of his life, and so desperate for a second chance, he’d been willing to work at almost anything. He still marveled at the odds of coming upon a man for whom he’d once done a good deed—a deed that prompted the man to return the favor.
The way he looked at it, Eulis Potter had pretty much saved his life. He tried to convince himself that his feelings for Letty were all mixed up with his appreciation to Eulis, but when he was being honest, he knew that was a lie. He coveted his friend’s wife and had, almost from the moment they’d met. And, everything she’d done since had only enforced the emotion. He admired her strength, her faith, and her spirit. He loved her face, her laughter, and her body—even the baby within. Still, he had no rights and no hopes beyond what already was. He’d told himself that he could be happy just knowing that Letty and her child would be happy and live a good long life. Most of the time, he believed it.
***
Carson Mylam rode up the mountain with ease. The weather was a little hot for the wool uniform, but he was convinced it would help make his case. Even though his hired horse was less remarkable than his fine blooded gelding back home in Philadelphia, he knew he looked good.
He had a letter from Abraham Lincoln, himself, as well as letters of reference from two of his superiors, both of whom were generals. He had no doubt that she would be suitably impressed. Lord knows he was impressed with himself. The visions he had in his head of returning to Philadelphia with what amounted to “the fatted calf” were many, and all awash in grandeur.
That he had to get past Robert Lee Slade to make that happen was a situation of which he was yet unaware.
***
Robert Lee saw the man coming from a quarter of a mile away. Seeing that he was wearing a soldier’s uniform was somewhat surprising, but he held his opinions to himself. He didn’t care if the man was sporting badges from every law enforcement agency in the nation. He wasn’t getting to Letty until Robert Lee said so.
He glanced back toward the Potter house. Katie was playing with T-Bone in the front yard. Delilah was digging in the flower bed beside the steps. From time to time, he caught glimpses of Mary, who was at the side of the house, hanging laundry. Since it was nearing noon, he knew Alice would be in the kitchen preparing the meal. He looked up at the second floor, where he knew Letty’s bedroom to be. He imagined her reclining, with her feet up and her body great with child, only his imagination was far from the truth.
Had he been able to see a little farther around the back of the house, he would have seen Letty standing beside an open fire and stirring a concoction in a large iron kettle. But he couldn’t see, and the wind was taking the odor of soap making in the other direction.
Oblivious to the small drama playing out on the other side of her house, Letty was focused on the last steps of making her lye soap. Among other things, it took animal fat, lye, and wood ash to make the concoction, which in itself, made a phenomenal mess. Although she could have ordered tons of fine, scented soap that wouldn’t have put a dent in her finances, she favored her own over what Milton Feasley kept in his dry goods store.
“Need some help?” Mary asked, as she walked toward the house with an empty wash basket.
“Yes. I’m about ready to pour it up,” Letty said. “Tell Alice to come help. It’s going to take all of us to lift the kettle.”
Mary hurried into the house, returning moments later with Alice at her heels. Together, the three women emptied the contents in the black cast-iron pot into four long, shallow, wooden troughs. The liquid soap needed to cool in the troughs before it would solidify. After that, they would cut it into small bricks to be used in washing everything from dishes, to bodies, to clothes. As they were filling the last wooden flat, Major Mylam was topping the hill upon which Letty’s house had been built.
***
It was the sight of a magnificent elk bounding out of the trees and into his path that distracte
d Carson Mylam’s focus. There was a moment when man and animal looked into each other’s eyes. At another time, they would have been adversaries. Fortunately for both, they were focused on other agendas. The elk whistled sharply, then cleared the road in one leap and bounded away.
Carson inhaled deeply, still lost in admiration of the spectacle, and missed seeing Robert Lee’s appearance. When he did look back at the road in front of him, it was to find an armed man standing between him and the elegant, two-story house.
“I say!” Carson exclaimed, and automatically put his hand on his pistol.
“Don’t do it,” Robert Lee said softly. “State your business.”
Carson Mylam wisely obeyed. Although he hadn’t expected this kind of reception, his good mood was broken. He lifted his chin and put his hand on his coat, taking comfort in the crackle of paper from the inside pockets.
“I have an appointment with Mrs. Potter, and letters of reference from the President himself.”
“The President of what?” Robert Lee drawled.
Carson Mylam frowned. It wasn’t the first time he’d encountered uneducated beings in this part of the country and feared it wouldn’t be his last.
“Why… of our country, of course,” he said, and added with a smirk. “Surely you’re aware of your nation’s leader.”
“Out here, the name doesn’t come up all that much. I’d say I’m about as aware of him as he is of me,” Robert Lee drawled, then fixed Carson with a pointed stare. “You’re wearing Union blue.”
Carson lifted his chin.
“Surely I am not in the presence of a southern sympathizer?”
“The only thing in sympathy out here is gold.”
Carson fidgeted. The mere mention of the word was why he’d come.
“As I said before, I have an appointment with Mrs. Potter.”
“Get down and give me your gun,” Robert Lee said.
“Now see here! I am an officer in the United States Army and I—”
“I said it once. I won’t say it again,” Robert Lee said, and then added. “And just for your own information, you might want to downplay the war and officer part. Mrs. Potter’s husband was shot dead right in front of her in her own yard a few months back. At the moment, she’s not too fond of men with guns.”
Carson stifled a moan of dismay. Obviously, he hadn’t thought the mission through from her point of view. He dismounted, handed Robert Lee his pistol, and then followed the man toward the house, leading his horse. It was not the arrival that he’d planned.
“So, how long have you worked for Mrs. Potter?” Carson asked.
Robert Lee gave the man a quick glance, but didn’t bother to answer.
Being ignored by a man he viewed as from a lower class, aggravated Carson enough that he spoke out before he thought.
“Marvelous… he’s not only ignorant but hard of hearing. I say, where were you born… in a barn?”
Robert Lee stopped. For a few moments, he just stared at the ground without speaking. For Carson, the silence became uncomfortable, then threatening. When Robert Lee finally looked up, the glitter in his eyes was all the warning Carson knew he was going to get.
“Actually, I was born in Virginia,” Robert Lee said. “When I left it, which was several years ago, my father, Justin Slade, was governor. I learned to read at the age of four from the tutor father hired for me and my four brothers and sisters. I speak Latin and French…” Robert Lee paused briefly, and then added. “…and nobody has been able to out draw me since the day I shot my first man. So, I suggest you get your sorry blue-ass up to the house, state your business, and then get on back to where you came from while the gettin’ is good.”
Carson felt an instant urge to pee. However, stating the need was not something he could say to a man like this. Not only did he feel out of place in this wild, socially inept country, but he was obviously in the presence of a southern sympathizer. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d gotten himself into.
***
Katie was the first to see the men coming.
“Look, Miz Delilah… Robert Lee’s bringing a visitor.”
Delilah stopped and looked up. She knew Letty was expected a visitor and got up quickly, brushing the dirt from her hands as she waved Katie into the house.
“Go inside and tell Miz Letty that her company is here.”
“No one’s in the house. They’re all out back making soap,” Katie said.
“Oh lord,” Delilah muttered, thinking of what they would all be wearing. Whatever it was, it was bound to be dusty, and smeared with ashes and animal renderings. “It doesn’t matter what they’re doing. Letty still needs to know her company is here. You let her know. The rest of what happens is her affair.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Katie said, and scampered around the back of the house with T-Bone at her heels.
Letty saw Katie and T-Bone running toward her and paused, absently rubbing a hand at her aching back and smiling at the sight.
“Hey there, honey… what’s the rush?” she asked.
Katie pointed toward the front of the house.
“Robert Lee is bringing your company up the road.”
Letty looked down at her hands, then her clothes, and shrugged. In the grand scheme of things, it mattered little.
“Thank you, Katie.”
She patted T-Bone, giving his ears a playful tug as she moved toward the back door. The least she could do was wash her hands and face before attending to the bothersome business of company. As far as she was concerned, the only good part of it was the fact that she would get to visit with Robert Lee, no matter how brief the meeting.
The baby kicked as she moved into the house.
“I don’t like this any more than you do,” she muttered, as she poured some water up into a wash basin and scrubbed at her hands and face.
She removed her work apron and combed the fly-away tendrils of her hair away from her face. The bang of the front door signaled the arrival of her visitors. She smoothed her hands down the front of her gray, stained smock and lifted her chin.
The swell of her belly preceded her entrance into the parlor. She saw the man in Union blue, as well as the perturbed expression on Delilah’s face, but it was the tall, somber man with dark hair and black eyes standing by the fireplace who captured her attention. As always, Robert Lee’s quiet presence intrigued her, and at the same time, filled her with a sense of peace.
“Good morning,” Letty said, letting her gaze linger longest on Robert Lee. “Thank you, Robert Lee.” Then she included everyone else in the greeting. “Please… have a seat.”
“Mrs. Potter, my name is—”
Robert Lee was already on his way out the door when Letty interrupted the soldier and called him back.
“Robert Lee, I know you’re terribly busy, but I would appreciate it if you would stay while this gentleman and I have our conversation.”
Carson Mylam frowned.
Robert Lee pivoted on one heel, walked across the parlor to the chair nearest where Letty was sitting, and sat down with his hat in his lap.
“Letty, would you like for me to fetch some tea?” Delilah asked.
Still hot from her soap making task, Letty was already fanning herself with a small, paper fan. She arched an eyebrow at Robert Lee, who stared at her for a moment, then looked away.
Letty saw a muscle jerking in his jaw and knew he was irked with her for asking him to stay.
“I think these gentlemen would most likely prefer something a bit stronger,” Letty said, and pointed toward a cupboard in the corner.
Delilah was as familiar with men’s likes and dislikes as Letty, and headed for the whiskey decanter and the small shot glasses on a shelf above.
Once Delilah was at her task, Letty eyed the officer again.
“I’m sorry. I interrupted you. As you were saying…”
Carson was out of his element. This woman was nothing like he’d expected. There was perspiration on her face, stain
s on her clothing, and her hands were obviously reddened from some sort of menial labor. He would have expected a woman of her wealth to have her every wish granted by servants. Instead, she appeared as a servant herself, and showed no embarrassment or made an apology for receiving company while being so great with child.
He cleared his throat.
“My name is Carson Mylam, a major with the Union army.” At this point, he pulled his letters of reference from his pocket. “I have letters of reference from President Lincoln, as well as two of my superiors, both of whom are generals. I’ve come on the behalf of the government of these United States to speak of a matter most urgent.”
“I doubt you have been in a single state since you crossed the Mississippi River. This territory damn sure isn’t one, so don’t go throwing the United State government at me. Back there, they don’t even know we exist.”
Carson frowned.
Letty frowned back as she stared at the papers he was holding.
“So what is it you came to talk about?”
“I came to beseech you, on behalf of President Lincoln, to beg for your help.”
“What could I possibly do? I’m near to giving birth. Surely you aren’t asking me to pick up a rifle and go fight your war?”
The skin on Carson’s neck turned bright pink.
“No, Ma’am. I have come to you, because of your great wealth and power.” And even as he was saying it, there was a moment when he realized how foolish that sounded.
Letty stared at him for a moment, and then laughed—out loud—without care for the lack of lady-like behavior.
“And what is it that you think my wealth and power is going to do… stop bullets?”
Carson’s neck flushed a darker shade of pink. He waved the papers he’d carried across hundreds of miles into the air.
“Please read these, madam.” He frowned. “I’m assuming you do read.”
Letty’s smile quit about the same time as her patience.
“I read. I read just fine. However, you need to know that, out here in the territories, reading is about the last skill you need to keep yourself alive. You also need to know that I’ve been making lye soap all morning, and that I’m not sure what hurts worse… my back or my feet. Pissing me off before you state your business isn’t the smartest thing you could be doing.”