by Carré White
“How could I forget? That’s when you told me I had inherited five children. I was rather shocked by the news.”
“And then you proceeded to rail at me.”
“And you said I was the most obnoxious woman you ever met.”
He grinned, nodding. “You gave as good as you got. I was properly chastised, I’ll tell you. I’d never suffered such a verbal lashing. That’s when I knew you were the perfect woman for me. You had fire and passion.” He murmured, “You still do.”
“Oh, my land.” Her cheeks had reddened. “You’re teasing me horribly, but I’ll forgive you.”
It was entertaining listening to them discuss their first meeting. From what I remembered, they argued frequently in those early days, and then I had foolhardily run away, which inadvertently brought them together. It was while they were searching for me that they realized they were in love. They had been inseparable ever since.
I didn’t want to envy them…but I did.
Chapter Eleven
By some miracle, Fanny and Jack’s crops weren’t ruined. The insects hadn’t discovered this cultivated portion of soil, as they had swarmed off in another direction. Paulina and Hannah’s yield would be greatly diminished this season, although Fanny had declared that their harvest would be shared equally among the families. Other farmers in the area had suffered, while neighboring fields had been left alone. It was a strange and unfair disaster, but everyone hoped the winter freeze would kill any eggs that had been laid.
My anticipation of Friday evening could not be overstated. I had chosen the dress I would wear, having taken it out of a drawer the night before and hanging it on a hook. When this did not smooth the wrinkles enough, I worked on it in the kitchen, applying a flat iron. The lovely peach and champagne, shot silk gown, which had belonged to my mother, was now ready to wear. My mother had worn it on the night of her engagement. It was slightly out of date, but, with a crinoline and petticoats, it would pass tolerably, especially in a frontier town like Denver City.
“Well, don’t you look nice,” said Fanny, who had come to peer into the bedroom. “That’s a handsome color. It suits you.”
I stood before the mirror fixing my hair. “Thank you.” The bodice draped across my chest, exposing a hint of cleavage. I had never worn such a revealing outfit before, although this was still quite modest compared to the gowns I had seen in the fashion plates from Paris.
“You’ll put us all to shame. I’ve nothing as nice to wear.”
“It was my mother’s favorite dress.”
She approached, standing behind me. “I can see why. The material is fine. The Bertha trimming is divine. It must’ve taken her forever to sew it all on.”
“I remember her working on it.”
“It’s fortunate you were able to take it with you. I’ve had to leave so much behind when I came out here.”
“Ladies!” called Jack. “When are we going? I’ve been expecting you for the last ten minutes.”
“Well, that’s it then,” said Fanny. “You better hurry to finish.”
Turning from the mirror, I faced her. “You’ve been so kind to me, even when I don’t deserve it.”
Surprise lit her eyes. “What brought this on?”
“I’m grateful you took over my guardianship. I’m happy here with you and Jack. You’ve been the best foster parents an orphan could ask for.”
“Oh, bosh. Stop that now.” She dabbed the corner of her eye.
“It’s the truth. You put up with me when I was at my worst. The thing is, I can’t promise that I won’t ever make another mistake again. But with you and Jack, I know you’ll always be there for me, if…I do have a mishap or two.”
“What have you done?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m just grateful to be here. Thank you for letting me attend the social.”
“Give me a hug.” She drew me into her arms. “You’ve always been a rather strange and mysterious girl, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“Thank you, Fanny. I adore you.”
“I adore you too.”
“For the love of Pete!” called Jack. “What in heaven’s are you two doing up there?”
“We’d best get going.” Fanny handed me a pair of satin gloves. “I, for one, am looking forward to a happy distraction tonight. We’ve had a dreadful week with all the grasshoppers and things. I just hope your brothers behave themselves when we’re gone. The last thing I need is my house to burn down.”
“That won’t happen,” I laughed. I snatched a shawl off a chair. “They’ll read stories and go to bed.”
“I hope so.”
We left the house after giving Peter and Connor implicit instructions not to light any candles or the stove, and to make sure the windows were closed in the event of rain, but the skies were clear. In the wagon, I sat with Fanny and Jack on the bench, while my sisters were in the back, chatting happily. For once, we were going to town for pleasure and enjoyment. Fanny was right; we needed a distraction from the events earlier in the week.
I longed to see Ryan again, having kept the flowers he had given me in a vase, until they wilted. In hindsight, I should have dried them, thereby preserving them forever. I chastised myself for this oversight, but it was too late now.
The social was held at the public hall, which was where the school was temporarily located, until a new one could be built. The town bustled with activity, as the saloon brimmed with men, while saloon girls could be seen through the windows, parading around in scandalously short dresses and feather boas. The public hall was down a few stores from the saloon; its lights were bright, as dozens of lamps had been lit. Wagons and horses waited outside, tied to hitching posts, while couples chatted in the street. The atmosphere was festive, the sounds of laughter and music spilling out. I scanned the crowd eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryan, but I wasn’t able to see him.
Pastor Bailey tied Sally Anne securely. Then he helped Fanny and I alight from the wagon, leading us to the boardwalk. Susanna and Mary followed; their eyes were wide with anticipation, as they had never been to a dance before.
“Will we get to practice?” asked Mary. “I can’t remember a thing about the Virginia Reel, can you?”
“It’s easy,” I said. “I’ll show you. Not everyone’s here yet. We’ll be able to practice in a corner.”
The chairs and desks had been pushed against the walls, where someone had draped them with tablecloths. An assortment of cakes and goodies were available, along with ice tea and lemonade. Musicians tuned their instruments across the way, while several couples danced, practicing the steps. I recognized a few people I had gone to school with, and waved.
Someone tugged at my sleeve. “You have to show us the dance, Jane,” implored Susanna. “We’ll make fools out of ourselves, if we don’t practice.”
I led her to the corner. “You’ll need a partner.”
“Mary!”
“I’m coming.”
“Then I can show you the essentials. You’ll have to learn the other dances by watching. I hope they have the Patty-Cake Polka and the Carolina Promenade.”
“Gee willikers!” cried Susanna. “One thing at a time.” The excitement had flushed her cheeks. “I’m sorry now we didn’t practice at home.”
“This isn’t a test,” I said. “This is supposed to be fun. You don’t need to do it perfectly. Most will be learning as they go. I doubt many people know the steps anyhow.”
“I’m planning on following a strong partner,” said Mary, craning her neck. “The pickings are awfully slim, though.”
Once I had gone over the basic steps for the Virginia Reel, the musicians began to play. Couples flooded the dance floor, eager to participate in the festivities. Fanny and Jack were among the first out, and we stood to the side admiring their movements. Mary was asked to dance by a young man in a brown sack coat. Susanna, being younger, hid behind me, finding the experience slightly overwhelming.
“You’re waiting
for Mr. Hartsock, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I am.”
“He invited you to the dance, and now he’s not here.”
“No.” My spirits had begun to wilt, wondering if, perhaps, he had changed his mind. “I’ll take a turn around the room, and maybe I’ll find him.”
“I’ll go with you.”
There were people chatting and drinking; their faces revealed enjoyment. Quite a few had battled the grasshoppers earlier in the week, during the height of the infestation, and they welcomed this distraction, as did we. The dance allowed the unmarried members of Denver City’s society to gather and connect. From the look on Mary’s face, she had found an amiable partner. More than one interested glance came my way, as I worked through the crowd, heading towards the front of the room where the windows where. I intended to take a look outside, hoping to find Ryan.
“What a crush,” muttered Susanna. “A hundred more people just arrived.”
“There’ll hardly be any room left to dance soon.” I took her hand, bringing her with me.
“Where are we going?”
“I want to take a look outside.” We were near the windows, and I peered out, seeing some sort of commotion. There were a group of men surrounding what looked like a fight. “Oh, dear.”
“What? Do you see him?”
“No, just the drunkards from the saloon behaving badly.” When one of the men grasped the other by the shirtfront, bringing him to a standing position, I gasped. There was Ryan Hartsock, his nose bleeding, while two men grabbed him, holding him back, as another began to throw his fists. “Oh, no!” I grasped Susanna. “Go get Pastor Bailey! Now!”
Seeing the horror on my face, she dashed into the crowd, disrupting the dance, and pulling Jack away. Fanny followed, appearing slightly bewildered.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Mr. Hartsock’s being beaten outside! Someone has to help him!”
Jack flung open the door, stalking onto the boardwalk. “What’s the meaning of this?” A large group of men had gathered, and, seeing the commotion, several men from the public hall appeared. “Five to one is hardly a fair fight, gentlemen.”
“This don’t concern you,” said a haggard-looking man in a vest and necktie. His hand rested over the weapon that was holstered at his thigh.
“Oh, my God!” I cried. “You have to stop them!”
The sight of Ryan being treated in this manner was beyond upsetting. He’d been attacked for some time now, his nose bleeding, his lip split open, and blood on his clothing. His left eye was bruised and swelling. I felt a wave of nausea, but my worry over him prevented me from being sick. I’d begun to panic, wanting the violence to end.
“That’s enough!” bellowed a tall gentleman in a frock coat and breeches. “This is a family gathering, and your behavior is abhorrent. Release that man at once.”
Fanny’s hand was over her mouth. “Oh, no.”
“I say, let that man go,” insisted Jack, who approached the melee, intending on intervening. Ryan struggled against his captures, thrashing for freedom, while a man kicked him in the gut. “Stop this lawlessness at once!”
“Be my guest, mister! We’re takin’ care of Indian vermin. I’d stay outta it, if I were you.”
“I’m Pastor of this town, and someone has to do something to keep the peace.”
A fist connected with Jack’s face, stunning him, and bringing forth a scream from Fanny. The person who had insisted the men stop strode towards the angry crowd. Others joined him, outnumbering Ryan’s attackers, but they had yet to let up on pummeling him, as another fist connected with his bruised and bloodied face.
“Stop it!” shouted Fanny. “Stop it!”
“There are women and children here!” yelled a man. “Take yourselves on outta here! Drunken scum.”
Ryan had been released, but he fell to the dusty street, lying on his back, while holding his stomach. I raced to him, heedless of the danger; the only thought that went through my mind was that I needed to help him. The unsavory men had been driven off; their unhappy mutterings could be heard, as they returned to the saloon.
I knelt beside Ryan, while tears filled my eyes. “How bad is it?”
He saw me and groaned. “Don’t know.”
“Son, are you all right?” asked a man. “Do we need to get Doc Caldwell?”
Jack was on his other side. “Do you think anything’s broken?”
“I can’t tell,” he murmured.
“I’ll help him,” said a man, kneeling next to us. “Let’s have a look. I’ll feel your ribs.” He placed his hands on a torn shirt, feeling where his ribcage was. “It seems sound, although they’re probably bruised something awful. Does it hurt to breathe?”
“A little,” he rasped. Struggling to sit up, he groaned in pain.
“We’re going home,” said Jack. “Thank you for the help, fellas.”
“We got plenty of witnesses. Someone outta let the sheriff know.”
“No,” said Ryan. “No sheriff.”
“But they nearly killed you.” I stared at him, not quite believing he wouldn't want his attackers punished.
“Just leave it. I’ll be fine.”
“Let’s get him into the wagon.” Jack rubbed his cheek, from when one of the men had thrown a fist at him. “I’m finding Mr. Hartsock’s continued persecution a little tiresome now. This has to stop. I’ll be speaking with the mayor on Sunday to complain about it.”
It pained me to see Ryan this way, but what made it worse was knowing that it had been my fault. He had come to town to see me, and he had put himself in harm’s way. He wasn’t able to live his life freely because he was mistaken for an Indian at every turn. Jack and several men helped to lift Ryan into the wagon, while Susanna went into the hall to collect her sister. Mary, who had been enjoying herself, appeared a moment later.
“What’s happening? Why are we leaving?”
“There’s been an accident,” said Fanny. “We’ll come again to a dance, but…tonight’s ruined, I’m afraid.”
“By mighty!” she exclaimed, seeing Ryan lying in the wagon. “Is that Mr. Hartsock? What on earth happened to him?”
“The drunken idiots of the town got to him,” I said, lifting the skirts of my dress and stepping into the back of the wagon. “I’m sitting with him. You can take my spot, Mary.”
“He’s in sorry shape.” She stared at him, her expression troubled.
“He is.” I sat next to Ryan, not caring that my mother’s dress now had the dirt from the street smeared all along the hem, or that I had gotten blood on the bodice. “Oh, Ryan,” I breathed. “What have they done to you?”
Susanna sat with us, handing me a handkerchief. “This might help.”
“Thank you.” I dabbed at his face, but he grimaced each time I touched him. “At least nothing’s broken.”
“Don’t forget Banter. He’s my horse. I can’t leave him.”
“I’ll get him,” said Jack, springing from the wagon. “He can follow behind.”
We ambled from the public hall, leaving the noise and commotion behind, as men stood outside of the saloon watching us go. It angered me that Ryan’s perpetrators would not be brought to justice, that this man, who happened to look like an Indian, could not live in Denver City without the threat of brutality hanging over him at every turn.
I scooted closer, sliding an arm beneath his head, letting him use it as a pillow. He turned to me, his eyes glistening with wetness. Seeing him this way affected me greatly, as an intense wave of tenderness came over me, flooding all of my senses. I cared not that there was now blood on my face, because I’d pressed my cheek to his. While Susanna stared at us, I lay my arm across his belly, while he held me, the gentle motion of the wagon jostling us ever so slightly.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you in pain?” I whispered.
“A little, but I’m better now.” He grinned, but grimaced, groaning. “I got a shiner, huh?”
&nb
sp; “Yes.” The stars hung overhead, brilliant in a nearly black sky, while the wagon continued down the rocky and rutted road. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“He’s at Hannah’s, isn’t he?” said Fanny.
“Are you?”
“I am.”
“He’s still there.”
“Then that’s where we’ll take him.”
“You’re ruining your dress,” said Susanna. “You’ve got blood all over it now.”
“I don’t care.”
“I…never got to see you in it.”
I met his gaze. “You will.” Then I remembered something. “Drats! I forgot my shawl.”
“Someone will return it,” said Mary.
“I doubt it.” I moved a strand of hair away from his forehead, examining his eye, which had bruised substantially. “You didn't get to dance.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“They accosted me as soon as I arrived. I hadn’t tied up Banter for three minutes before they were on me.”
“I’m sorry things are so hard for you. I’m truly appalled by people.”
“It’s been that way my whole life. I’m used to it.”
“But it shouldn’t be like that!” I cried passionately. “You’re being harassed and judged on solely what you look like. It’s unfair.”
“It is,” agreed Jack. “Something’s going to be done about it too. I’ve had enough.”
When we reached Hannah’s house, all the lights were on. We hadn’t been at the social long, and everyone was still awake. Nathan appeared on the front steps, having heard the wagon.
His hands were on his hips. “Pastor Bailey?”
“We brought your ranch hand home,” said Jack. “He had the misfortune of meeting up with a coupla drunks. They made a mess of him.”
“Again?”
“What do you mean again?” I asked, hating that the locals were treating Ryan in such a manner. “How often does this happen?”
“What’s going on?” Hannah stood near the door with Charlie in her arms. “Fanny, is that you?”
“Yes, and Mary, Susanna, and Jane.”