by Tracey Cross
Danny tugged on her skirt. “Is he talking about those men that wanted to marry you, Ma?”
Jane’s cheeks grew hot as the man’s grin widened. “Yes, Danny. That’s precisely what he is talking about. But he should know that I am not referring to foolish men trying to marry the first decent woman they’ve seen in only the dear Lord knows how long. I am referring only to the men in the freighting companies who will not allow me to haul their freight into Deadwood.”
The man straightened and quickly closed the distance between them. He stretched out his hand. “Please allow me to beg your pardon. My manners have been deplorable. My name is Trent Bedlow.”
Jane accepted the smooth, proffered hand. If this man had ever done a day’s work, it hadn’t been recently. The feel of the soft, smooth hand turned her stomach a little. But that wasn’t all. The way he looked her down, then up, made her feel uncomfortable and unclean. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bedlow.”
He turned his attention to Danny and held out his hand. Danny scowled but politely shook, then let go as quickly as possible.
Jane turned back to the clerk. “Are you going to go get me the manager? Or shall I go exploring until I find him myself?”
The clerk’s ears turned red. “But ma’am, he’s—”
“What Lawrence is trying to tell you is that I am, in fact, the proprietor of this freighting company. And it would be my pleasure to discuss an arrangement over dinner, if you would allow me to escort you and the lad.”
“No thank you,” Jane said decisively, though her stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food. They hadn’t eaten since lunch many hours earlier, and she was certain Danny was just as hungry as she. To his credit, though, he’d never said one word of complaint.
“Are you certain? I am headed out to eat now. If you’d rather wait, we can speak in the morning.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes, we are getting ready to close.” He smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes.
She recognized his intent. She could either go to dinner with him to discuss the freighting, or she could wait until morning. Feeling helpless, Jane released a breath. “I suppose…”
The door flung open. Jane whipped around and came face to face with Mr. Lloyd.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“Mr. Lloyd!” Danny’s joyous shout filled the room. “You woke up. Ma said she thought you were so tired you’d probably sleep all the way until tomorrow.”
Mr. Lloyd stared at Mr. Bedlow. “It’s a good thing for your ma that I’m a light sleeper.”
“To what do we owe this pleasure, Frank?” Mr. Bedlow’s words were like ice.
“It’s none of your business why I’m here.”
“Indeed? And likewise it is none of your affair if I escort a lovely young woman and her son out to a nice meal.”
“It is when the lady in question is Mrs. Albright. I’ll thank you to remove your hand from her arm.”
Jane stared from one man to the other, trying to make sense of the exchange. “You two know each other?” She waited for Mr. Lloyd to demand the return of the oxen and wagon. She could kick herself for being so frugal with the laudanum. She hadn’t wanted to risk giving him too much. Clearly she hadn’t given him enough.
Mr. Bedlow increased the pressure on her arm. Almost painfully so. “Frank and I go way back. When he first made an appearance in Sidney preaching hellfire and brimstone. Of course it was quite a different man who rode into Deadwood a year later.”
“Preaching?” Jane turned her question to Mr. Lloyd.
“That was a long time ago. And it isn’t the reason I can’t allow you to have dinner with him.”
Jane’s ire rose. Who did he think he was? “You won’t allow me? Excuse me, sir. I may owe you a debt, but that certainly does not give you leave to choose my dinner companions for me.” She turned her head sharply. “Thank you for your kind invitation, Mr. Bedlow. I would be delighted to accept on behalf of Danny and myself.”
Mr. Bedlow turned a triumphant grin to Mr. Lloyd. “Spunky, isn’t she?”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Lloyd said. “Have you forgotten why I’m here?”
The depth of his determination filled the room, as did the silence that followed. Jane’s face burned. “I haven’t forgotten, Mr. Lloyd. But Danny still has to be fed.”
“Then I will take the two of you to dinner myself.”
Mr. Bedlow drew her closer. “I have to object.” His voice remained calm, but the challenge in his eyes was undeniable.
Mr. Lloyd stared back, equally challenging. Wide-eyed, Danny stared between the two men. He slipped a chubby, clammy hand inside hers. Jane knew she needed to settle the issue in such a way that Danny wouldn’t be upset.
She was just about to open her mouth to speak when Mr. Lloyd spoke first. “I have a legal matter to discuss with Mrs. Albright.” He turned his attention to Jane. “I won’t be put off, Jane. I’m in no mood to track you down again.”
Jane pulled herself from Mr. Bedlow’s grasp and gave a sigh. “You win, Mr. Lloyd.” Turning to the other man, she gave a nod. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I suppose I will have to come by in the morning and talk business then.”
Mr. Bedlow’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Certainly. I shall be here at seven.” Reaching forward, he traced her jaw with his finger. “I would love to see you then.”
Jane stepped back sharply, away from his too-familiar touch, and backed into Mr. Lloyd. His hands moved to her shoulders. “She won’t be here.”
“No, I don’t suppose she will be.” Mr. Bedlow winked at Jane and left the building.
The clerk cleared his throat. “I’ll be closing up now.”
Mr. Lloyd took her arm and led her to the door. Jane held tightly to Danny’s hand as they stepped out onto the street that still bustled with activity, even more than earlier, despite the late hour. On the homestead, she would dish up supper, they would clean up the dishes, wash before putting on pajamas, read a chapter from the Bible, say prayers, and be in bed by eight o’clock.
Jane tried to yank her arm from Mr. Lloyd’s grasp, but he held tightly. “Do you want to tell me what you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“First of all, I’m not giving you a chance to run away from me again.” He glanced at her, his eyes dark beneath a furrowed brow. “With or without drugging me.”
Jane frowned and motioned her head toward Danny. “Listen, Mr. Lloyd, about the coffee,” she whispered.
“The coffee? I should have known when you weren’t drinking any.”
“Please accept my apology. It was unforgivable.”
“No.”
His short reply startled Jane. She sidestepped a wad of used tobacco. “No?”
“No. I do not accept your apology. It was only asked for based on your new predicament. If you had gotten away, you never would have given me another thought.”
He was wrong about that, but she would never admit to him that he had filled her thoughts since the moment she awakened and found him taking such tender care of Danny. “Are you taking me to the authorities?”
“No. Not that you don’t deserve it.”
“Where then?”
“I’m taking you to get something to eat,” he said as though speaking to a child.
Danny’s steps faltered, and Jane stopped short, causing Mr. Lloyd to scowl as her arms slipped from his grasp. She bent down and gathered the little boy in her arms.
“Here, give him to me.”
Danny went readily into Mr. Lloyd’s arms and giggled as he was swung up onto strong shoulders. Cheyenne gave a yelp.
“Look, Ma,” Danny yelled. “I’m bigger than you.”
“You certainly are!” She smiled, then lowered her voice, addressing Mr. Lloyd. “Be careful with him.”
Without a reply, he turned into the next building. Jane looked up and her eyes opened wide as she took in a two-story home, much like the orphanage where she grew up. It
was whitewashed and tidy from the outside. A rocking chair sat, gently swaying in the breeze. She longed to sink into the chair, which had a floral print pillow on the seat.
As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Lloyd motioned to the chair. “Go ahead and sit down with Danny. I’ll go talk to the owner of the boardinghouse and see what we can do about getting you a place to sleep tonight.”
“Mr. Lloyd, I can’t.” Humiliation burned in her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was remind this man that she already owed him more than she could likely pay in five years. Why would he even bring up such a matter? Was he being deliberately cruel in his effort to repay her for this morning’s actions?
“The owner is a friend. Family, in a way.”
She drew herself up to her highest point of dignity without standing on tiptoes. “I can’t allow you to pay for mine and Danny’s keep, sir.”
“And I have no intention of suggesting such a thing. As I mentioned, the owner is family. I’m sure we can work out an arrangement.” He scrutinized her. “Are you up to doing domestic work to pay for room and board?”
Relief flooded her. She’d rather scrub a hundred floors than be further beholden to anyone. “I am able to work for our keep.”
He gently lowered a droopy-eyed Danny to the porch. Jane gathered the boy into her arms and sat in the rocking chair.
Mr. Lloyd wiped his boots on the mat outside the front door as he rang the bell. A little girl of no more than eight or nine years answered the door. Her face split into a wide grin. “Uncle Franklin! Miss Bess! Come quick!” She stamped her foot and grinned broadly. “What are you doing here?”
Mr. Lloyd laughed and swung the child into his arms. “Would you believe me if I said I came to see you?”
“No, sir, I would say you’re telling a falsehood. And you know what Miss Bess says about those.” She tapped his shoulder. “Besides, I’m too big for you to pick me up like this.”
Chastised, he set her down. “You are getting to be quite the young lady, aren’t you? Well, are you too grown up to hold my hand and take me to Miss Bess?”
The door closed on the reunion, and Jane drew Danny close to her and rocked. Her heart lifted in prayer. Lord, what will we do now that Mr. Lloyd has found us so quickly? However will I care for my boy?
A breeze floated across the porch. Danny sighed, and she looked down at him. A thought came to her worry-ravaged mind. God loved Danny even more than she did. He wouldn’t leave them helpless.
Chapter Five
“For heaven’s sake, Franklin, why don’t you just marry the girl? It’s time you settle down anyway. Martha wouldn’t have wanted you to stay alone the rest of your life.”
The words twisted like a saber, deep and slashing. “I know.” Staring at Jane sound asleep with her son nestled in her arms, Franklin couldn’t deny—to himself anyway—that he was tempted to suggest the arrangement to Jane.
But the image of her slaving away on that dirty homestead flashed through his mind, and Franklin shook his head at his sister-in-law, Bess Crawford. “I’m in no position to marry again until I can build a proper home.”
She gave a huff. “I’ve never seen a man so in need of a wife. You’re getting so set in your ways, you’ll wake up one day and find yourself just like Uncle Nathan.”
“And I’ll get around to finding one as soon as I’m settled on my homestead and can be a proper husband and father and not before. So let’s not talk about it anymore.”
He hadn’t intended for his voice to rise. But it had, and Jane’s eyes popped open. She glanced between Franklin and Bess. “I must have fallen asleep.”
With characteristic nurturing, Bess reached down. “Let me take the boy. We’ll lay him down in your room.”
“Gracious,” Jane said, standing. She smoothed her skirt. “You must be ready for my help in the kitchen.”
Bess frowned. “Don’t be silly, honey. Supper’s been ready for ten minutes.”
“Oh, well. I suppose I’ll help with dishes and anything else you need from me. I appreciate you putting Danny and me up for the night.”
“Your presence here is payment enough.” Bess waited while Franklin opened the door. “It’s very rare indeed that I have the opportunity to speak to a lady.”
“How is it you came to be here?” Jane asked, her arm brushing against Franklin’s as she followed Bess inside ahead of him. She looked at him as though to apologize, then turned back to Bess. “I mean, if there aren’t many women who aren’t…” Her face turned a becoming shade of pink. “Perhaps it’s none of my business.”
“Not at all. I came out with my twin sister when she got married.” Her eyes cut to Franklin, but she didn’t tell the secret that wasn’t hers to share. “When she died a year later, I stayed on and took over her house and turned it into a boardinghouse.”
“You and your husband?” Jane asked.
Bess chuckled. “Heavens, no. I’m still waiting for my man to find me.” She led the way up the narrow steps and down the hall into a neat bedroom.
“You’re forgetting Coop,” Franklin said, amused.
“You’re forgetting Coop is about the biggest heathen I know. When he decides to settle down and let God do a work in him, then I might consider one of his marriage proposals.”
Noting Jane’s look of confusion, Franklin took initiative. “If you’re wondering about the children peeking out from different rooms, those are children Bess has taken in from here and there. She’s like a beloved old aunt.” He grinned fondly at her.
Bess chuckled as she laid Danny on the bed. “I may be an old maid of twenty-four, but God has given me children anyway.”
“Where do the children come from, Bess?” Jane asked, sitting next to Danny’s feet, removing his dusty boots.
Bess darted a gaze to the doorway where four or five children peeked in. Jane followed her gaze and nodded. Explanations would have to wait.
“Children, go get ready for bed. I’ll be up to hear your prayers after we adults have our supper.” She shooed them away. “The children eat in the kitchen earlier than the boarders,” she explained for Jane’s benefit. “Some of our boarders don’t enjoy the laughter of children.”
Franklin smiled at the children as he left the room. Bess and Jane followed to the dining room. The boarders were already seated and the table set. Nathan Crawford boarded with Bess and paid a fair price for his room and meals. Several other boarders were family men looking for a decent place away from the bawdy houses or the hotel above the saloons. Two of the boarders were performers. The women sat properly, but their gowns were too low-cut, and the paint plastered across their faces seemed indecent. Franklin hated that Bess rented rooms to them. But she was adamant. “If I don’t, they’ll end up in the saloons. Performing is bad enough, but at least they aren’t doing worse.”
Franklin held out a chair for Jane. She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you.” Taking her napkin, she set it gently in her lap. Bess folded her hands and bowed her head. “Lord, once again we thank You for the bounty You have set before us.”
Franklin shifted. Long ago he’d stopped praying, and now he felt like a hypocrite. He kept his eyes focused on the china plate in front of him. The china Martha’s mother had passed down to her the day of her wedding. Franklin had laughed when Martha had insisted upon bringing it. “We’re going to the basest of towns. If there’s a rougher town out West, it’s Deadwood.”
She had smiled with her green eyes and kissed him on the nose. “Then, my darling, you bring the Scripture, and I shall bring the culture. We’ll each have our part to play in God’s marvelous plan for Fort Sidney.”
Three years had come and gone since that moment, and though the pain had eased greatly, he still couldn’t quite forgive the one who had taken his Martha. He had moved to Deadwood and struck it rich in mining. But he tired of that life quickly. He had made his fortune, hired men to mine his gold, and kept a steady income for himself and several family men, whom he paid good wages. Deadwood i
tself was rife with moneymaking opportunities. Men hoping to strike it rich paid the exorbitant prices charged by the freighters who risked life and limb to bring food and supplies to the dusty mining town.
Freighting companies were springing up in Sidney as fast as a man could blink, and Franklin saw no reason he shouldn’t begin his own. So with the help of his uncle, Nathan, and his brother, Coop, he had started the business in Sidney. They ran Lloyd Brothers Freighting from Sidney, and he oversaw the goods from the store in Deadwood.
“Franklin?” Bess’s voice brought him back from his memories. He glanced up and took the bowl of potatoes she held out. “We said amen.”
“I beg your pardon.” He took his potato and passed the bowl to Jane.
Franklin sat silently as the talk around the table buzzed. He rarely allowed his mind to recreate the past, but when it did, only time could remove the fullness of it and allow other thoughts to push it back. But Bess’s next words jolted him back to the present. “Jane, what are your plans?”
Without missing a beat, she said, “I intend to meet with Mr. Bedlow in the morning. He said he would be at the freighting office at seven. I hope to persuade him to hire my wagon and me with it to haul supplies into Deadwood.”
Bess frowned. “Meet with Bedlow? He’s a despicable man. Besides, why on earth would you want to haul freight?”
Jane’s cheeks reddened. “I thought him pleasant enough.” She quickly sipped her water.
Uncle Nathan scowled. “Bedlow’s a crook and a liar. If he wants to talk to a pretty thing like you, it ain’t freighting on his mind.” The silverware clinked together as his fist came down on the table to emphasize his point.
Jane’s shoulders squared, and Franklin recognized her stubborn streak setting in like a determined sun peeking through clouds. “I do not know what sort of man Mr. Bedlow is, but he is the only man in any freighting company willing to give me a moment of his time.” Her lips trembled. “I must find someone who will allow me to haul freight to Deadwood. I have a little boy to take care of.”
Uncle Nathan shook his head and pointed his fork at Jane. “Stay in Sidney two days, and you’ll get yourself a dozen proposals. Shoot, I’d marry you myself if I wasn’t so old and ornery.” He grinned, showing a mouth with only half the teeth God had given him.
