“Do you ask everybody else around here for birth certificates?”
“No, but—”
“Just make out the damn papers and let her sign them!” she heard Ethan saying angrily. She knew good and well she could never have got through this without the Indian scout who was being so patient with her. Still, she hated having to depend on anyone. No matter how she felt about Ethan Temple, he was an Indian, and certainly not a settling man. Besides that, a feeling much stronger than anything she felt for Ethan had welled up in her soul, a terrible need to show everyone, even Ethan Temple, that she could do this. She had thought for a moment she might like something more from Ethan, but when he touched her breast, the shivering revulsion had hit her all over again. Was that all men wanted? If that was so, she didn’t need one. Never again was any man going to take advantage of her.
She turned then when Ethan shoved some papers under her nose. “Sign these—two copies. Sign for Toby, too. I’ve convinced the land agent to make these out as though Toby signed them and took hold of the land before he died. That will make it even harder for Nolan Ives to give you trouble.”
Ally looked into his dark eyes, again feeling drawn to him in ways she did not understand. “How did you get him to do that?”
“Never mind. Just sign.” Ethan wondered where his mind had gone. He just spent a good deal of his savings bribing the land agent, money he’d meant to use to go and see his father. He didn’t doubt that for the first few weeks, it was the land agents who would be the richest men in these parts.
Allyson signed the papers, and Ethan gave one to the agent, keeping the second copy for Allyson. “Keep that in a safe place. I’ll finish raising your tent and put up a couple of stakes on these lots with your name on them. Then we’ll bury your brother.” He walked off, returning with a blanket, which he laid over Toby’s body. Allyson felt faint from lack of food and sleep, combined with the shock of watching her brother die in her arms and feeling as though it was mostly her fault for insisting they try to claim the lots Nolan Ives wanted.
Ethan saw her eyes rolling back, and he quickly grabbed hold of her, picking her up and carrying her over to the tent. “Sit down here and keep your head bent over your knees for a few minutes,” he told her. “I’m going to bring you something to eat. Once we bury Toby, you’re going to lie down in that tent and sleep for a good long time. I’ll keep watch outside. You’re in no shape to be looking out for yourself right now.”
“I can do it,” she said weakly. “You don’t need to—”
“You don’t have any choice right now.” He left her there, walking back to his horse to get out some food and water. The sounds of a new city mushrooming from land that only a few hours ago was quiet and barren filled the air. Whistles and shouts, horses whinnying, mules braying, pigs squealing, chickens clucking. Sledgehammers hitting metal stakes rang in every direction, and as far as Ethan could see, tents already decorated the landscape. Not far away a gambler had already opened up a game, and beyond that he saw a questionable-looking woman prancing around a group of single men. This land was supposed to have been opened for honest settlers, but half of these people were gamblers and prostitutes, shady businessmen and opportunists.
He looked back at the tent, thinking how tiny and helpless Allyson looked sitting there. Still, in spite of her size, he figured she had more guts than most men. It was just too bad she didn’t have any common sense to go with it. “Damn,” he muttered. How in hell could he go off and leave her alone here? Yet to stay was too dangerous…for his heart.
6
Allyson emerged from her tent rubbing her still-puffy eyes. The last two days had been miserable, as she struggled against her wretched grief and loneliness. So far she had managed to keep back most of the tears, but it made her stomach ache fiercely. She had always found crying a useless endeavor, but watching poor Toby’s crude, wooden coffin being lowered into the ground…
She breathed deeply. No. She couldn’t think about that. Time. She just needed time. For now she would have to get through each day the best way possible, which was to keep busy. Two days ago she had claimed this land and buried her brother. Yesterday she had visited a supplier and had given him a list of items she needed to get started; and today she would get started, even though it would be a few days before her ice box would arrive. Her cast iron cooking stove was to arrive today by train, or so the supplier had promised. She could at least get started baking bread and pies. Already supplies like flour and apples were plentiful, as merchants had descended on Guthrie with a vengeance, hawking everything imaginable.
She gazed at a new, waking city, thousands of tents sprawled everywhere. Activity around the tents, mostly gambling, never ended. All through the night one could hear the voices, laughter, sometimes fighting. Tents and booths for gambling were erected right in the middle of what was supposed to be streets, and already people were complaining and plotting to get rid of them. Guthrie was in need of law and order, but she would leave that to the men who had already begun appointing themselves in charge. It was rumored that before long meetings would be held to elect officials and set rules.
She had decided she could not worry about that right now. Her job was to start making money, as soon as possible. Ethan had promised to watch for the stove and find a man to haul it to her. She was not sure what she would have done without him these last three days, yet she worried she was growing too dependent on Ethan Temple, not just for the physical help, but emotionally as well. She didn’t like being dependent on anyone, nor did she totally trust Ethan’s intentions, not after that kiss the other night and his admission that he cared about her. She had no room in her life right now to bring a man into it, nor was she ready for the physical aspects of such a relationship.
She picked up a bucket of water and poured some into a wash bowl. She wondered how long it would be before Guthrie would devise a well and water tower of its own, or if she should see about having someone dig her a well so she could pump her own water. Their first day here, the railroad’s water tower had become the supply for most people, and it was soon empty. Yesterday two huge tank cars full of water had been brought in by the Santa Fe, paid for by the government. They were moved to a side track, and people had to carry their water daily from the tank cars to their homes and businesses, which were still mostly made of canvas. The air was filled with the smell of fresh lumber, also brought in by train; and with the sound of pounding hammers, as wooden structures sprouted everywhere, replacing the tents.
Today another government-supported train would arrive with a freight car full of blocks of ice, as well as tons of goods being shipped in by various suppliers who had set up tables along the tracks to take orders. She had already presented a long list of necessary items. Besides an ice box, she needed a couple of tables and many small items, like a pastry board, rolling pin, an egg whisk, potato masher, dishes, bowls, pots and pans. She had just enough money to pay for all the supplies, which meant she needed to get started right away, at least selling bread and pies. She would buy what food she could and cook at least a few meals. She had to start earning money so she could continue buying other things and pay for more coal for her new cookstove, which she would have to set up temporarily outside her tent.
There was so much to think about, and that was good. It kept her from dwelling on Toby’s death. She just wished he was here to see what was happening. Just a few days ago she never dreamed she would be part of such an adventure, but Toby’s death had taken any joy from it. She missed him terribly. Now her dream had become a matter of stubborn determination, a way of making up for what happened to Toby, and a form of revenge against Nolan Ives.
She carried the bowl of water inside her tent, wishing there was a better way to wash, aching more from emotional than physical weariness. She took a clean but well-worn dress from her carpetbag, thinking how wrinkled it was. That was another thing she needed—an iron. She wondered when she would ever have enough money to buy herself some new clo
thes. The business had to come first.
“Hello in there!”
It was Ethan. Why did her heart rush so at the sound of his voice? She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about a man. She wondered where he had been. For the last two nights he had camped near her tent in case Nolan Ives tried to give her more trouble, but there had been none. When she first peeked out of the tent in the morning, she noticed Ethan had already been up and gone. She pushed some of her hair behind her ear, thinking how terrible she must look after several days without a real bath, let alone how her face must look after nearly three days of crying and hardly eating. Whenever she was distraught about something, circles appeared under her eyes. Besides that, her face had gotten sunburned and was already peeling. She moved to the tent entrance and looked out. “Good morning.”
“How would you like a real bath, a place to sit in a tub of hot water, wash your hair, the works?”
She squinted against the morning sun. “Where?”
Ethan ached at the way she looked, wishing he could do more to help heal her broken heart. He knew he was getting in way too deep, knew damn well there was no future with this woman, if she could even be called a woman yet. He had been determined to leave today, but the poor kid was still so inexperienced, still needed so much help. He had tried to tell himself that was her problem—she had brought all of this upon herself. The stubborn woman was determined to stay and make a go of it, and if he had any sense, he would get the hell out of Guthrie and let her succeed or fall flat on her face all on her own. So, why was he still here? He knew the answer. He just didn’t want to admit it yet, not even to himself.
“I found a man who’s already set up a bathhouse. Right now it’s just two big tents, one for men, one for women, but he’s got water boiling, plenty of soap and towels.” He held up a package. “I bought you a new dress. Hope it’s the right size.”
“Ethan, you shouldn’t—”
“It’s just one dress. Come on. Climb up here in front of me and I’ll take you over there.”
Allyson hated continually depending on this man, but the fact remained that a hot bath sounded absolutely wonderful. “Just a minute.” She ducked inside the tent to gather her underwear, a comb, and other personal belongings, throwing them all into a pillow case along with a clean dress, in case the one Ethan brought her didn’t fit. She left the tent and walked up to Ethan’s big buckskin horse. He reached down and hoisted her up in front of him, and she could not ignore the shiver of strange desire that moved through her at the feel of his strong arm around her, the closeness of his body as she leaned against him, the warm feeling of safety she always felt when he was around. How could she ever repay him? It was as though he could read her thoughts. Here she had been wishing for a real bath and a new dress, and along comes Ethan Temple offering both.
He left her off at the bathhouse, and minutes later she was enjoying the most luxury she had known in weeks. It felt wonderful to soak in the hot suds, even more wonderful to wash her hair. Each person paid ten cents for their bath and had to carry their own hot water. There were three bathtubs in each of the two tents, with blankets hung between them for privacy. The set-up was rather primitive, but it served the purpose. With the lines outside the tents, Allyson did not doubt that the man who ran the bathhouse would be rich in no time. It made her even more anxious to get started with her own venture. Excitement grew in her soul as she dried off and put on all her underclothes. She heard a train whistle in the distance. Surely some of her supplies were on that train, maybe her cookstove!
She combed through her damp hair and let it hang loose to dry, pushing it behind her ears, then unwrapped the brown package that held the dress Ethan had bought her. Her heart rushed with delight at the lovely bright calico garment, a sky-blue color, accented with little yellow flowers. It seemed too pretty to wear for a hard day’s work. She held it against herself for a moment, vowing someday to be able to afford to dress in lovely clothes. She carefully folded the dress again, rewrapping it. She put it into her pillow case of supplies and took out the faded but clean dress she had packed earlier. She put that one on instead. Someone yelled that her time was up, and she quickly left, as the wife of the man who had opened the bathhouse came inside to drain her tub for the next customer.
When Allyson emerged from the tent, Ethan was waiting. She saw the disappointment in his eyes at the fact that she was not wearing the dress he had bought her. “It’s beautiful, Ethan, too nice for what I have to do today. I want to save it for something special.”
Ethan had looked forward to seeing her in it, but then he thought perhaps it was better this way. Just being bathed, that long, red hair hanging damp down her back…That made it hard enough to think of leaving her. He pictured her sinking her naked body into the hot water, wished he could have gotten right in that tub with her. She was beautiful, even when she wore her plain, frayed, too-big hand-me-downs. It was probably better he didn’t see her in that pretty blue dress that he was sure would fit her every curve just perfectly. “Just so you liked it,” he answered, reaching down to help her onto Blackfoot again.
“It’s so pretty, Ethan, but you shouldn’t have.”
“I just thought it would boost your spirits to have a new dress.” God, she felt so good against him. Now she smelled sweet and clean. He was falling in love, and he damn well knew it. He also knew it was wrong. “Soon as we get back I’ll go check on your stove. A train arrived just a few minutes ago. With any luck, the stove will be on it.”
“I thought the same thing when I heard the train whistle.”
“Well, I hope it’s there so I can get it set up for you. In a couple more days I’m going to have to leave. I’m already overdue at Fort Supply. I should report in. After I finish whatever it is they want me to do next, I’ll be going to Illinois to visit my father.”
I don’t want you to go. Allyson could not bring herself to speak the words. Of course she wanted him to leave. He had done too much for her already, and she must not let herself grow so dependent on him. Besides, wasn’t it wrong for a white girl to be seen so much with an Indian? Somehow she didn’t see him as Indian anymore. He was just a terribly kind and handsome man for whom she had feelings she must not allow to be revealed, even to herself, nor could she allow herself to admit how afraid she would be once he was gone. She was going to be on her own, and that was that.
They rode to her tent. Ethan dismounted, then reached up for her, lifting her down with ease. Allyson ignored the pleasure she felt when his strong hands grasped her around her small waist, ignored the little wave of desire that enveloped her when she grasped his arm for support and felt its hard muscle through his cotton shirt. She even forced herself to ignore how good he looked this morning, clean-shaven, his smile bright. He wore a red shirt, and it was a wonderful color on him. His denim pants fit his slender hips snugly, and his six-gun spoke of a man who knew how to take care of himself. She would never forget how he had stood up to Nolan Ives and his men, how he had helped and protected her since then…all the more reason it was a good thing he was leaving. She was not sure how much longer she could fight these feelings.
“Right now there are long lines at the train,” he was saying. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of thousands of pounding hammers and scraping saws. A wagon clattered by, and the noise of the crowd gathered by the supply train was getting louder. “I’ve already been over there, and it’s a mess. We might as well have some coffee and let the lines go down a little before we go see about your supplies.” He started to build a fire outside the tent.
Allyson brought her belongings into the tent, then came back to join Ethan, who had put on some coffee and bacon.
“I’m going to start right away this afternoon making my bread dough. I decided that until I get an ice box and can store more food and make bigger meals, I can at least bake bread and pies and sell them. I’ve got to start earning money right away. I have almost none left.”
Ethan poured th
em both some coffee. “You’re really going through with this, aren’t you? No changing your mind?” He handed her one of the metal cups.
“No.” Allyson met his dark eyes, and felt a flutter in her stomach when his fingers touched her own. “I have to do this, not just for Toby, but to prove to myself I can be someone important, that I can make my own way without having to steal. If I leave now, Toby will have died for nothing. Besides, it would also mean Nolan Ives has won, and I’m not ever letting that happen. I didn’t let my father break my spirit when he used to beat me. I fought off boys in the streets of New York, and I outwitted Henry Bartel. Now I’ll show Nolan Ives that just because I’m young and a woman doesn’t mean I’m weak or that he can scare me away. He doesn’t realize that by killing Toby, he just made me stronger.”
She sipped her coffee, and Ethan watched her, smiling and shaking his head. “Whatever you say.” He wished he could get his hands on every man who had abused her and had made a sweet, pretty girl into a calculating, determined female who seemed to have no room in her life for emotions or plain old common sense. He knew damn well she was afraid, but the brave little thing was going to charge ahead anyway. He watched her reach over to the fry pan he had set aside and take out a piece of bacon with a fork. She laid it in a tin plate. “Ethan, you can’t go away without telling me more about yourself. I just realized this morning that I don’t know anything about you except your name and that you’re an army scout. You must lead a very exciting life. As long as we have to sit here and wait, you might as well tell me a little bit about it.” She bit off a piece of bacon. “Don’t you have an Indian wife waiting for you somewhere?” Yes, that was the way to put it. Let him know gently that he belonged with an Indian woman, not a white girl. Still, the pain she saw in his dark eyes when she mentioned a wife made her feel guilty for asking. She had touched on a sore subject. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
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