In Love's Territory: A Western Historical Romance Page 4

  The town, such as it was, seemed to have just one large street that cut through the center like a knife, splitting Mineral Point into two halves. As they descended, she could see a few things that were clear even at a distance. There was the church, of course, standing aside from most of the other buildings in town as if not wanting to get too close to them, its steeple towering over the other buildings and its graveyard lying low. Nearest to them, just at the close edge of town, was a school, either recently built or recently painted; the white building practically gleamed in the bright morning sun. The main street appeared to be lined with false-front buildings and a few larger buildings she couldn’t identify from afar; the rest of the city spread itself out around the center in no recognizable pattern. Shacks nestled up next to good-sized houses, streets ran at odd angles and there was even an thin sliver of cornfield that poked at one edge of the city, like a leafy green spear surrounded by homes on all sides.

  “This town looks like it was laid out with no rhyme nor reason,” Kate said.

  Sam snorted. “That’s the truth,” he said. “It was growing so fast a while back that nobody seemed to care very much about how it looked. It’s calmed down a little bit now, though.”

  The traffic on the road had increased markedly as they came closer, with large, overloaded wagons struggling up the hill, passenger carriages streaming everywhere, and a good number of men on foot, all dressed in what Kate now realized was the uniform of the lead miner: muddy boots, dirty trousers, sweaty shirts. More than a couple of the diggers stared at her openly as they passed, sending a shudder through her as they leered.

  Once they entered the town proper, Sam pointed out several places along the way. “You saw the school as we came in,” he said. “Over there’s the post office, and that’s Mike Turner’s barbershop.”

  “What’s that big building over there, the one with the columns?” Kate asked, pointing to an unusually ornate structure. The classical design and large size made it stick out from the smaller, plainer neighbors.

  “Oh, that’s the theater,” Sam said. “Time was, they had lots of big plans for the place, but they pretty much just use it for town meetings and the like. Once in a while we get traveling shows, though,” he said, pointing to a large poster which had been tacked to the front doors.

  “A Shakespeare production?” Kate said, reading the poster. “Really? They actually perform Shakespeare here?”

  “Why not? We’re cultured,” Sam said.

  Kate smiled at the image of a theater full of diggers, caked in mud, swirling drinks in hand at the intermission and going to retrieve their shovels from the coat check after the performance.

  Kate turned to her brothers. “We should go see it! It’s been ages since we were at the theater,” she said. “I wonder where you buy tickets.”

  “Couldn’t be easier,” Sam said. “Usually when we have shows like this come through, John Gray sells them at his store. It’s just up here,” he said, pointing to a huge false-front building with a bright red-and-white sign reading GRAY’S GENERAL STORE. “I figured I’d take you all there anyway; we can ask about the tickets.”

  As they pulled up in front of the store, Sam expertly guiding the carriage between two others, Mark and Jake both leaped down and started up the steps, leaving Kate perched on the seat.

  “Boys,” she called, but neither of her brothers appeared to hear her.

  “No problem, Miss Taylor,” Sam said. He put on the brake and hopped down, moving around the carriage and raising his arm to take her by the hand.

  “Thank you, Sam,” she said, placing her hand in his and stepping down. “It’s nice to see that not everybody has forgotten their manners.”

  “My pleasure,” Sam said. He hurried up the steps and opened the door for her. “After you, Miss Taylor.”

  “Again, thank you, Sam,” she said, stepping inside.

  The store was even larger than it appeared from the outside; though the space inside was somewhat narrow, with only three aisles, it extended far back and created a very spacious room. Or, at least, it would have been spacious had it not been crammed full of items, but the store seemed to offer everything one could possibly want. The first aisle had every sort of canned foodstuff Kate could imagine running down one side, while the other had baskets of fresh vegetables waiting for purchase; the second aisle was stocked with goods for the household, and the third seemed to be devoted to tools, farm supplies and odds and ends that hadn’t fit elsewhere.

  “Afternoon, folks,” called a clerk, who was perched on a ladder behind the counter, dusting some cans on the shelves behind. “Let me know if you need any help finding anything.”

  While her brothers headed to the last aisle to look at the tools, Kate started down the middle aisle to the household goods, with Sam following behind.

  “Sam, if you’d rather look at the farm items, I don’t mind,” she said. “You said you needed to pick up some things.”

  “That’s all right,” he said. “Won’t take me more than a minute; I know just where everything is over there. Haven’t spent a lot of time here, though,” he said, picking up a china cup to examine it. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just go along with you.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Kate said.

  They slowly continued down the aisle, stopping now and again to look more closely at kitchenware, bedding, and a large section of fabric and sewing supplies. When they reached the end of the aisle, they turned and returned to the front of the store by going up the first aisle, pausing frequently to look at the canned goods and vegetables. By the time they again met up with Kate’s brothers, more than half an hour had passed.

  “My goodness, I don’t think anybody would need to ever shop anywhere else,” Kate said.

  “Yeah, they’ve got pretty much everything under the sun in here,” Sam said.

  “Hello, Sam,” Kate heard behind her, and she turned to see a tall man in his fifties, so thin that his shirt collar hung loose around his neck. He reached out and shook hands with Sam as he approached them.

  “John, good to see you,” Sam said. “I want you to meet the Taylors. This is Mark, Jake and Kate. They’re Bill Taylor’s kin.” Sam turned back to Kate and her brothers. “This is John Gray, the store owner.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Gray said, shaking hands with everybody. “We’d heard you were coming out after Bill passed. How are you all settling in?”

  “So far, so good,” Mark said. “It’s quite a store you have here.”

  “That’s nice of you to say. Have you all had a chance to look around?”

  “Just now,” Kate said. “There’s a lot to see.”

  “Well, let me know if you can’t find anything,” Gray said. “And by all means, let me know if you need any help settling in or whatnot.”

  “John, before I forget, they wanted to go see the next show at the theater,” Sam piped up. “Do you have tickets?”

  “Sure do. Just remind me when you’re ready to go and I’ll get some for you.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Kate said. “You know, I think I’ll have a new dress made for the show,” she added, turning to her brothers. “I saw some nice fabric back there. Now I’ll just have to find a seamstress.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” Gray said. “As a matter of fact, my wife is the best seamstress in town.”

  “She is? When do you think I could see her?”

  “You can see her right now, if you like. She has a little space back in the storeroom,” he said, pointing toward the rear of the store. “Sam can show you back there and she’ll get you all set up.”

  For the next hour Kate was in the company of Mrs. Gray, a businesslike woman whose face seemed to only exhibit variations of the same vaguely annoyed expression as Kate flipped through a folder of clippings showing a selection of women’s clothing. She finally found a drawing of a dress which caught her eye. With a fitted bodice, pagoda sleeves and braided trim, Kate imagined that it
would make a fine addition to her wardrobe.

  “You sure you want this design? I’ll have to make silk undersleeves for you too,” Mrs. Gray said. “That’ll cost you extra.”

  “That’s no problem,” Kate said. “This is the one I’d like, in the dark green cotton you have on display out there.”

  Mrs. Gray grunted at her and proceeded to quickly take her measurements. “When do you need it by?”

  “We’re going to the Shakespeare performance at the theater,” Kate said. “So I’ll need it no later than next Saturday morning.”

  “Gonna be a rush job,” she said. “That’ll cost you extra too.”

  Kate forced a smile. “That won’t be a problem, I assure you.”

  Mrs. Gray scribbled a few lines on a scrap of paper and handed it to Kate. “You can pay up front,” she said, then turned back to hunch over her work table with her shears and began to cut some fabric.

  Kate found the men outside on the steps, and after sending Mark in to pay for the tickets and her dress, they returned to the carriage and resumed their tour of Mineral Point. Kate found it difficult to pay attention, although she couldn’t fault Sam—when the highlights of the tour consisted of the town hall, the saloon and the barbershop, it was hard to stay interested. On the other hand, the thought of the upcoming show, complete with a new dress, was the first thing she’d had to look forward to in quite a while—the first thing she’d been excited about since she’d learned they were coming to Wisconsin, in fact.

  The ride back out to the farm looked a lot different this afternoon; when she’d passed over these roads a few days earlier, Kate had been hungry, exhausted from traveling and covered in road dust—certainly in no mood to appreciate the view. Now, however, on a warm day beneath a brilliant blue sky dotted with clouds and surrounded by lush green fields, things were different. She felt almost optimistic. She felt almost happy.

  As they arrived back at the house, pulling up to a stop in front of the porch steps, Sam put on the brake and hopped down in a flash, immediately turning and raising a hand to help Kate down from the carriage.

  “Thank you, Sam,” she said, and she felt an unusual warm glow in her tummy when he smiled at her. He really was quite handsome, she realized, with thick black hair and shining dark eyes that seemed cut from onyx. How come I didn’t notice that before? Oh yeah—I was too busy tripping on sheets and hiding in barns. She looked at him for a long while before she realized that she was still holding his hand, and she only reluctantly let go.

  “My pleasure, Miss Taylor,” he said. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. I’d better get the cows into the barn before it gets too late.”

  “Speaking of that, did you think of a name for your cow yet?” Kate asked as she went up the steps after her brothers.

  Sam looked at her for a moment. “Actually, I was thinking about it on the way back. How about I name her Kate? You know, after you?”

  Kate’s back stiffened. “You want to name your cow after me?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

  “Sure, if you want me to,” he said. He smiled at her as if he were genuinely pleased with the idea.

  “So when you look at that cow, the first thing you think of is me?”

  His jaw dropped slightly. “Well, I, uh—”

  “When you look at that huge, stinky animal, the first name you think of is mine?”

  Now it was finally Sam’s turn to blush. “Miss Taylor, I didn’t mean any disrespect. It was supposed to be—”

  “Thank you for the ride into town. It was lovely until just now.” Kate stepped into the house and slammed the door shut behind her.

  ~

  “—an honor.” Sam finished, but the door was already closed. He let out a long sigh and watched through the glass as Kate walked down the hall, her form soon becoming a vague outline and then disappearing as she went into the dining room.

  Sam turned and went down the steps. That could have gone better, I suppose. He drove the carriage down to the barn, berating himself all the way. Having a cow named after her. Yeah, a real honor for a high-society girl. Boy, you really stepped in it, didn’t you?

  With one poor suggestion he’d undone all the good will he’d built up so far, and the thought sat in his stomach, eating away at him for the rest of the evening. He completed his chores as if asleep, only paying the slightest attention to what he was doing, and although he stopped to check in with the other farm hands, he’d forgotten everything they talked about only a few minutes later. By the time he made it back to his cabin, the sun had sunk out of sight and an orange-and-red sky was blooming overhead.

  Sam let himself collapse onto the stump outside the door and looked down the hill at the house. He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Well, maybe we’ll look back on this and laugh about it someday. Like my dad’s old sock.

  He burst out laughing at the memory. His parents hadn’t had many problems communicating when they’d first gotten together—certainly not as many as one might have expected for an English husband and a Lakota wife, anyway. Still, there had been some moments that had stuck with them for some time.

  Sam had heard the story countless times, and now that both his parents had gone on, it was a memory that he relied on to raise his spirits when he thought about them.

  Working the farm—especially back when his dad had been running things, when there were fewer hired hands to spread the work around—was very tough on clothing, and his father had absolutely no skills when it came to repairing his clothes. As a bachelor he had simply thrown things away instead of trying to fix them, and he continued to do so as a married man.

  Sam’s mother had hated that. She, in fact, was able to repair most things, and what she couldn’t fix, she used for something else, so his father’s waste of what she considered perfectly good fabric drove her absolutely crazy.

  They had actually had a knock-down, drag-out fight one time that began when his father tossed yet another undershirt onto the ash heap out back; when his mother saw the tiny ripped seam that had prompted him to throw it out, she had blown up at him and forced him to promise not to do it anymore.

  A month or so later, in the heat of the high summer, Sam’s father had come home for dinner after a full day of working out in the fields. After entering the cabin, he’d taken off his shoes and seen that his socks were a lost cause; they were mostly holes, barely connected by the thinnest threads. He peeled them off and was about to throw them away when he remembered what his wife had said, so as a dutiful husband, he turned to her, raised the sweaty, stinky, threadbare rags in the air, and asked “Do you want these?”

  Needless to say, she didn’t, and his father had learned some interesting new Lakota terms that day.

  Sam laughed again as he thought of his dad. He had been well-meaning but sometimes not as quick on the draw as he might have been. Still, it hadn’t stopped him from landing a good woman; maybe Sam would get lucky too.

  He stood up and went to the well alongside the cabin, drew up a bucket of water and returned inside to cook himself some dinner. As he ate in the dim light, his thoughts were jumbled, with memories of his parents mixed together with thoughts of Kate. By the time he cleaned up and was sitting by the fire, he found it difficult to keep his attention focused on his journal. Instead, his mind kept flitting back to the image of a gray-haired Katie, leaning on an equally gray Sam and telling the grandkids how he had once tried to name a cow after her.

  Chapter 4

  As Sam drove the runabout back to Taylor Farm, he couldn’t help but wonder what Kate would look like wearing the dress. Mrs. Gray had taken far too long to finish it, and even today he had waited nearly half an hour while she made some last-minute adjustments before bundling it into a large paper package tied with string. Now Kate would have only a few hours to get ready before the performance tonight, but Sam was sure she’d look terrific even if she threw the dress on and made no other preparations at all. Maybe they’ll want me to drive them, he t
hought. Better to spend at least a little time in her company than alone at home.

  His hopes weren’t very high, however. In the days since he had suggested naming the cow after her, Kate had made herself scarce when he was around, and it was only the fact that she needed her dress that had gotten her to talk to him again, asking him to go fetch it. Hopefully she’ll appreciate this and things will go back to normal. His hopes weren’t very high about that either, however.

  She did look glad to see him, though. As he drove down from the main road, he could see Kate and Becky both rise from their chairs on the porch, and Kate even clapped her hands together in excitement as he pulled up to a stop in front of the house. When he stepped down from the carriage and lifted the package from behind the seat, Kate gave him a smile that quickened his pulse and made him forget all about his worries.

  “Sam, thank you so much,” she said, taking the dress from him. “You’re a lifesaver.” Her voice was warm and friendly again, and suddenly it felt like all was right with the world.

  “My pleasure, Miss Taylor. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

  “I will,” she said, throwing another smile his way before they went inside. Sam nodded at her and Becky before he turned to go, and he drove the runabout down to the carriage house. The girls’ laughter and light voices carried to him as he turned to watch them enter the house, and it felt like a pain he’d been carrying around with him had just disappeared. He took a truly deep breath for the first time in what seemed like ages, grabbed his lunch bucket, and headed out to the field.

  ~

  Kate stood in front of the mirror, finally wearing her brand-new dress, and felt like she was about to cry. This is a disaster, she thought. How absolutely horrible.

  “Does this look as bad on me as I think it does?” she asked.

  Becky let out a low sigh. “Miss Taylor, I’m afraid it does,” she said.

  Kate closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. I have plenty of other dresses to wear. This doesn’t matter very much in the grand scheme of things. In fact, perhaps it doesn’t even look as bad as I thought. When she opened her eyes again, however, she realized that her first impressions had been accurate. The dress hung from her only slightly better than the bed sheet had, in fact. The neckline left a gap far too large—though it would have been perfect if she’d been cursed with two heads—and one sleeve was noticeably longer than the other. It hung loosely at the waist, as if she’d decided to put on a gunny sack, and was far too long, piling up on itself at the floor. No, I was right. It’s a disaster.