“What does that mean, Mama?” Simon asked.
Lance chuckled. “Gluttonous, Peter. It means you eat more than you should. But you’re growing boys, and you’ll eat a lot more before you’re through.”
Eleanor sighed. “I’ll speak with her. I’d much rather have you eat a midnight snack in the kitchen than in your bedrooms. I do not like mice being upstairs.” She shivered at the thought.
As they continued the journey to town, the rolling hills became more barren as they left the foothills of the mountains behind. Soon, few trees were visible, and the bright blue sky was a stark contrast to the burnt brown of the land. A hawk flew overhead, swooping and soaring as it searched for prey.
A short time later, the wagon rattled into the town of Rattlesnake Ridge. What had once been little more than a blip on a map was now a growing, prosperous town due to the productive silver mines. Although not as profitable as they would have been before the Panic of 1873 and the US government’s move to the gold standard due to the Coinage Act of 1873, a market remained for the silver mined in the hills. The town was set at the base of the hills, with the mines above, and there was little relief from the harsh Nevada environment. Few trees were visible from town as they had been cut long ago for lumber for support beams in the mines. The mines scarred many of the hills and filled the town with dirt and soot. The overwhelming bleakness astonished Lance once again as he rode beside the wagon. He gave silent thanks that he had found work on a ranch outside of town.
As they made their way through town, they passed the office of the town paper, the Rattlesnake Ridge Recorder, and the bank. Zachariah paused at the intersection of Main Street, waiting for a wagonful of lumber to roll past before he steered the horses to the nearby church. The streets were busy with commerce and residents traveling to hear the weekly sermon.
Eleanor turned around and looked at her sons. Already numerous wagons were in the open space near the church. “I don’t want any more calamities occurring to your Sunday-best clothes, boys. Behave today.”
“Yes, Mama,” they parroted at the same time as their shoulders slumped. However, their spirits quickly rose when they saw friends arriving with their parents.
“There’s Isabelle and Ishmael!” Simon said and yelled his hello as he waved. He toppled over as the wagon lurched to a halt but pushed himself up to see if his friends were still in sight.
“They’ve gone in, Simon,” Lance said as he dismounted Amaretto and tied him to a post next to their wagon. “Rub the dirt off your jacket and pants before your mother sees it.” He winked at Simon as the boy patted at himself to rid the dirt from his mother’s notice.
Lance hauled the boys down from the back of the wagon so their clothes would remain cleaner and waited as Zachariah helped Eleanor down. Lance walked a pace behind the family as they approached the church, watching as they were warmly welcomed by all who loitered outside before the day’s sermon. He nodded to those who stared at him with curiosity, and watched as Simon and Peter bristled with pent-up energy to run and play with boys their own age. However, they soon entered the too-hot church to hear the reverend’s sermon.
* * *
Lance stood outside after the service and took a deep breath of the relatively cooler air. The church had been stifling with the mass of bodies pressed together on the warm summer day. He nodded in a friendly, but noncommittal manner to others leaving the church. He had no desire to strike up a meaningless conversation. Instead, he stood to one side of the church as Eleanor spoke with friends, and Zachariah stood on the opposite side of the church talking with other ranchers. The boys raced around, playing with their friends while attempting not to dirty their Sunday-best clothes. Lance smiled as he watched Simon trying to keep up with Ishmael and Peter and knew it was a matter of time before they ended up in a pile of something that would offend their mothers.
The warm July sun beat down, and Lance moved farther into the building’s shadow, leaning against the whitewashed wall. Wagons rattled by, and the sound of men hammering in the nearby hills could be heard as a new mine was dug and the walls shored up with freshly cut lumber from the nearby sawmill. Mine tailings formed small hills near the entrances to the mines. There was little beauty in the town in summertime with the landscape parched dry.
As he leaned against the wall, he puzzled through Eleanor’s reaction to the reverend’s impassioned sermon about the perils of gossiping. Why had she been uncomfortable, and why did many of the townswomen glance in her direction? He set aside his concerns and watched Zachariah’s approach. Lance stood tall, nodding to the man next to his boss.
“This is Lance Gallagher,” Zachariah said to the man next to him. “He’s our new hand. Has a way with horses, but lately he’s been busy with a hammer as he makes repairs so the place doesn’t fall apart around us.”
Lance looked up to meet the inquisitive gaze of one of the tallest men he’d ever met. The man had a scar along his chin which caused his welcoming smile to appear crooked. “Nice to meet you,” Lance said with a nod.
“I’m Jack Hollis, the deputy,” Jack said as he stared intently at Lance. He seemed to be taking Lance’s measure after mentioning he was a man of the law, and, when Lance failed to bristle, he relaxed subtly. “It’s a relief to hear Mrs. Ferguson has hired a competent hand willing to do more than ride around chasing cattle.”
“I do what I’m asked to,” Lance murmured.
“My wife, Barb, and our children were at the ranch last week. I think you saw them.” At Lance’s nod of agreement, Jack said, “She was impressed with all the work you’d managed to get done in the short time you’d been there.”
“Sometimes all you need is another set of hands to turn things around,” Lance said. “I know how hard it can be to run a ranch with limited help.”
Zachariah tipped his wide-brimmed black hat back on his forehead and looked at Lance with curiosity. “Do you? I’ve never been able to figure out much about what you did before you arrived at our ranch.”
Lance looked at the two men with wary concern as though belatedly understanding they had subtly cornered him. “I believe there’s little use in focusing on the past when all we have is the here and now. I drifted about, and I’ve seen my share of the country. As I told you, the last place I called home before Rattlesnake Ridge was Deadwood.”
Jack looked at him and crossed his arms over his strong chest. “Did you fight in the War?”
Lance nodded. “Yes. In the Union Cavalry.” He watched the deputy calm at the mention of fighting for the Union. Although a decade had passed since the Civil War had ended, he understood that some wounds took years to heal.
“That’s why you’re so good with horses,” Zachariah said.
“I’ve been around them since I was a boy, and I’ve always had a way with them. Anyone who mistreats their horse is a fool.”
“That he is,” Jack said. “Come, you should meet Reverend Brown.”
Lance stiffened. “Coming to church was one thing…” he protested as the two men corralled him in the direction of the reverend standing near the church steps.
“Reverend Brown!” Jack called out with a friendly wave. “Wonderful service.”
“Aye, I thought a wee sermon about gossip a timely message.” He smiled as Zachariah glowered, and Jack nodded. The reverend spoke with a soft Scottish burr in his voice and a welcoming glint in his brown eyes. He stood with his hands over his slight paunch, and he looked as though he could burst into a rendition of a Scottish folk tale at any moment. However, his gaze focused on Lance, and he nodded in welcome. “Hello, young man. I’m certain your help is appreciated at the Ferguson ranch.”
Lance held his hat between his fingers, tracing its rim and fighting the urge to fidget under the reverend’s inquisitive stare. “I believe it is.”
“’Tis good for the townsfolk to see the ranch begin to prosper again. It’s been long enough since Mr. Ferguson departed this earth.” He bowed his head, as though in honor of his me
mory a moment, and then patted Lance on his arm. “Come to tea someday.” He wandered down the steps to converse with the women watching their children.
Lance sighed and put his hat on. “He isn’t serious, is he?”
Zachariah shrugged, frowning as he saw the panicked look in Lance’s gaze. “Yes. When he asks you for tea, it means he wants you to visit soon. I’m sure you’ll have a formal invitation within the next week.”
“And don’t even consider missing your time with him,” Jack said in his deep voice. “He’ll just hunt you down and force you to talk with him.”
Zachariah shivered. “Believe me, that’s worse.”
Lance sighed again, muttering, “Meddlesome preacher,” and glared at the two men as they chuckled. His gaze focused on Eleanor as he saw her speaking with Barbara before walking into town.
Zachariah followed his gaze and shook his head in resignation. “She’s the most mule-headed woman you’ll ever meet.” After a moment, he murmured, “But the strongest, too. She won’t let a little gossip prevent her from going to the General Store.”
“You’ll never know how thankful I am that Barb does the shopping there now. I always hated Mrs. Handley’s meddling.” He, too, watched as Eleanor strolled down the street, greeting all she passed. “Mrs. Ferguson’s always been brave.”
Lance frowned at the men as they discussed Eleanor without offering any insight into the subject everyone in town seemed to understand except him. As Eleanor turned down Main Street in the direction of the General Store, he fought an urge to race after her so as to protect her from an unknown foe.
* * *
Eleanor walked the short distance from the church on the outskirts of town to the large mercantile closer to the center of town. Barbara had agreed to watch her boys while she placed an order for supplies at the store. She smiled to the townsfolk she passed and ignored the inquisitive stare from Mr. Langhorne, the town reporter, as he lounged against the doorjamb of the saloon across the street. Although a friendly, energetic man, she knew he was always eager to find an interesting story to report. She had no desire for her family to appear as a frequent topic in his publication.
The bell of the General Store rang as she opened the door, and she squared her shoulders and pasted on a friendly smile as she entered the Handleys’ establishment. The subtle fragrances of licorice, coffee, and soap mixed together to form a miasma of scents. Bright sunlight entered the front windows on either side of the door, and the lower windows were open as the day warmed further. Bins filled with spices and foodstuffs lined one side of the store, while items for the home or ranch lined the other wall.
After glancing wistfully at the fabric display, Eleanor forced herself to ignore it and to focus on the necessities needed at the ranch. She gripped the list she and Mrs. Wagner had made and approached Mrs. Handley. Eleanor’s smile dimmed as she saw the mischievous intent in the storeowner’s gaze. “Good day, Mrs. Handley. I have a list of items we need at the ranch.” She set her list on the countertop.
Mrs. Handley smiled at her but did not reach for the list. “How wonderful to see you in town again, Mrs. Ferguson. I imagine it has been quite a trial for you, all alone on your ranch these many months. As you can imagine, we’ve been quite worried about you.”
Eleanor stood straight, her smile rigid and devoid of warmth. “If you were truly concerned, Mrs. Handley, you could have visited me at the ranch. You would have been quite welcome.”
Mrs. Handley laughed and ran a hand over her indigo blue dress. “I’m much too busy for such social calls.” She reached forward and tapped Eleanor on her arm. “But never fear, dear, I’ve been kept abreast of your situation by Mr. Hayden. He is most concerned about the state of your ranch. It seems it is on the verge of collapsing about your ears any day now!”
Eleanor bristled. “We’ve had a difficult time keeping qualified help willing to do the work required. I’m sure you will be relieved to learn a new man is working on the ranch who is quite adept at all that needs to be done.”
Mrs. Handley chuckled and shook her head. “Well, let’s hope he stays on the good side of Zachariah. We know why the previous hands left, and it had nothing to do with competence.” She raised her eyebrows in expectation of Eleanor’s agreement and then frowned as Eleanor glowered at her.
“Mr. O’Neill is a trusted friend, a hard worker, and an excellent foreman. There should be no doubt as to his judgment regarding the competence of a ranch hand.” Eleanor glared at Mrs. Handley and sighed as she realized a small crowd of women had gathered behind her as she spoke with the shopkeeper. “If you would be so kind as to fill this order, we will return as we leave town.”
Eleanor waited for Mrs. Handley to reach for her list and then nodded to the meddlesome woman. She turned away from the front of the store and smiled at the town’s women who now avidly studied china patterns or debated the merits of tea over coffee. When she stood outside again, Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief before returning to the church to collect her family.
* * *
That evening, Eleanor sat on the front porch after her boys had gone to bed. She’d read three bedtime stories to Simon before he finally settled. She smiled as she thought about her spirited boy.
“It’s good to see you pleased about something,” Zachariah said as he climbed the porch steps after walking over from his small foreman’s cabin. “You were too quiet after coming back from town.”
She looked at her friend and flushed. “I had my reasons.” When he looked at her in confusion, she shrugged. “What’s the matter, Zachariah?”
He sat with an appreciative groan in the chair next to her and stretched out his legs. “I want to head to the upper pasture. To ensure that all is well with our herd.”
She frowned at the fine tension that seemed to thrum through him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked at her and met her concerned gaze. “Nothing. I promised you after Alan died that I would always be honest. That I would never keep secrets about the ranch from you. And I haven’t. There’s no reason for me to be worried.” He looked to the mountains in the distance again.
She whispered, “But you are.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I have this feeling something’s not right. That something bad is going to happen. I spoke with Jack about it, but he assures me there is no reason for concern. He’s heard of nothing nefarious occurring. But I worry he’s missed something.” He gripped her hand when she gasped in dismay. “It doesn’t mean something bad will happen, El.”
She blinked away tears. “It feels like, no matter how hard we work, we’re doomed to fail.”
He squeezed her hand and chuckled. “No need to be dramatic. We aren’t failing. We’re a long way from failing.” He took a deep breath as he looked at her. “You pay the loan on time, and there’s money in the bank in case the cattle prices remain low.”
She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “I hate worrying about what might happen if prices remain depressed like last year.”
“That’s why you have savings, El.” Zachariah attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but his bolstering smile did little to alleviate her worry as she hugged her arms more tightly about her middle.
“I’d far prefer to use them to pay my foreman and ranch hands more than room and board.” She looked in the direction of the barn. “And to continue to have money set aside in case of a true emergency.”
“Not paying the bank loan is an emergency. You don’t pay that loan, you won’t have a ranch.” Zachariah bit back an oath as he saw her flinch as his tone was harsher than he intended. “El, I’m sorry.”
“No,” she murmured. “You’re honest. And I’ve always wanted honesty from you, Zachariah.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “It’s why you’re my best friend.”
He nodded. “Although that’s only brought you trouble.” He frowned as she stood, lowered her head and hand, and stepped away from him. “El, even I know what that sermon was about today.”
&
nbsp; “How mortifying,” she breathed. “I can’t imagine …”
He fought a smile as he stared at her. “You can’t imagine being more than my friend? It’s mortifying considering a relationship with a man who’s your brother in every possible way?”
She smiled and relaxed. “Yes. I hate that they continue to find a way to hurt me with their vicious words and innuendoes.”
He shrugged. “Their words only have power if you give it to them. You and I know the truth, El. We know that Simon is Alan’s.”
“They know the truth, too, if they bothered to pay attention,” she said in a disgruntled voice.
He laughed. “Yes, but it will be all the sweeter when those women are forced to eat crow.” He winked at her. “I look forward to watching them choke out an apology.”
She ran her hands over her arms. “I doubt they will.”
“Oh, if Reverend Brown has anything to do with it, they will.” He laughed. “And if he doesn’t, his wife will ensure they do. No one trifles with Adeline Brown.”
She giggled. “No, no one would dare.” They stood in companionable silence for a few moments as a cool breeze blew.
“Will you and the boys be all right if I’m away for a few weeks? Even a month?” Zachariah asked in a low voice.
“I’ll miss you, Zachariah. And I’ll hate not having you here for Sterling’s visits,” she whispered as she sniffled. “But you must ensure the cattle are well tended. If we don’t have cattle, we don’t have a ranch.”
“There’s the Eleanor I know. The fighter,” he said with admiration. “I’ll speak with Lance tomorrow before I leave. I feel better leaving knowing he is here.” When she frowned, Zachariah said, “You already trust him with your boys, El. You’ll have to trust that he’ll work to keep you safe if need be.”
She shivered at his words and nodded.
Drifting from Deadwood: The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge, Book 6 Page 4
